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reverieblondie · 9 months ago

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Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter.

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?”

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.”

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself.

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture.

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare.

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?”

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment.

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation.

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace.

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.”

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…)

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!”

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class…

“Miggy~”

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.”

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age.

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…”

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest.

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic.

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement.

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them.

“Well…technically…I didn’t”

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.”

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man.

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?”

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…”

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment.

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions,

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow.

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…”

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-”

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him.

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!”

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!”

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile,

“It’s like density!”

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush.

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same.

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…”

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips.

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt.

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye.

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this…

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?”

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…”

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.”

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…”

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you.

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap.

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain.

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?”

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight.

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do?

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again.

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious.

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat.

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…”

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.”

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly.

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?”

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shake through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again.

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…”

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain.

“Miguel, I liked the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t had run away…”

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, liked when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now.

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat.

“I thought you were sweet…”

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you.

“Could I make it up to you somehow?”

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.”

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest.

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect.

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you.

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want.

“Miggy, I always liked you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more.

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…”

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver.

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass.

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you.

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…”

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him.

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses.

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~”

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets.

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly caresses up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can.

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and caress his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?”

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine.

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick.

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~”

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit.

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more.

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste.

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop.

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more.

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length.

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering.

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch.

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine.

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper.

“So eager, Miggy~”

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling.

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths.

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile,

“Good…”

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce.

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high.

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin.

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more.

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.”

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you.

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt.

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting.

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently.

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort.

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question,

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?”

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer.

“Miggy, about time you asked…”

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

5K notes · View notes

asahicore · 2 years ago

Text

cherry pits - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?

(Spoiler: wrong.)

genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl

word count. 12.9k

a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!

You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.

Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.

One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.

That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money.

Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.

Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.

You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.

The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.

A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.

Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.

As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.

You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty.

You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.

You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.

“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”

“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over.

The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.

“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.

You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”

You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.

—

That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.

Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.

You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice.

Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.

“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.

“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.

“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house.

“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”

He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples.

“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.

A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior.

“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.

“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.

He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”

“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.

“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.

“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.

“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.

“Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.

“Just water is fine.”

A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.

“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”

“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).

“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”

“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.

“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”

“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”

“So you're a student?”

“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”

You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms.

You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?

You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.

“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.

“She’s turning eight this summer.”

“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”

“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”

“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts.

He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”

You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”

“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”

“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.

He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.

“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”

He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”

“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.

Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.

“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.

“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away.

On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of.

Your parents ask you where you’ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly.

“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.

“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”

“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.

“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”

“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.

“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you.

“C’mon, mom!”

“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”

“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.

“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”

Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.

He does live right by, after all.

That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.

“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”

You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.

“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”

“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”

You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic.

—

One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.

Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.

Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care.

Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.

You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.

“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein.

“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.

You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.”

He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”

“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”

A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”

And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.

“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.

And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right?

Wrong. It’s unbearable.

Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.

At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.

Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-

Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us.

You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.

“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”

“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”

“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”

“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.

He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”

“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.

Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”

You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”

“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.

“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.

Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.

You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well.

You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice.

He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.

Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you.

He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them.

His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.

You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss.

A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.

“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.

“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.

“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.

Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”

“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.

“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.

—

Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor.

A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table.

“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you.

Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.

This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy.

It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.

The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.

At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.

The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.

When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.

Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.

You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.

He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.

Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.

Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.

Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style.

Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.

She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”

“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.

“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.

“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.

He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”

“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”

“No, that’s the thing-”

“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”

“No, just listen-”

“So let’s just forget about it, and-”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.

“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.

“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”

There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”

“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”

“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.

“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.

“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.

“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.

Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.

You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.

Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.

As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly.

“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.

“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.

“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.

“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.

“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.

“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.

“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.

He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.

You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Really?”

“Really.”

After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.

You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”

“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.

You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.

You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”

You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.

“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.

“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.

“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”

He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.

He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.

“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”

The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.

“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax.

You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.

Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.

His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.

“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.

“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.

“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.

His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.

You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.

He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.

“Was that too much?”

“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.

“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.

“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.

“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.

You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.

—

You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.

“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.

“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.

“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”

“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.

“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.

“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”

“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.

“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn.

“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.

There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?

The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.

this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)

#enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen hard hours #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon fanfiction #enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines

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yeonzzzn · 10 months ago

Note

pleaseee im begging for your next sunghoon one-shot to be toxic hoon. maybe an exes to lovers type of situation where he's losing his shit seeing you finally move on shdhjwjd 🧎‍♀️

I hope this is what you were looking for anon🤭 this is sooo angsty but I hope you enjoy it anyways 🩵

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

unsteady: park sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 2.6k

“I hope one day someone will love me as much as I loved you.”

Those were the last words you said to him as you stormed out of his apartment. Slamming the door in his face and leaving him alone in his living room.

Sunghoon stared at the door, counting down the seconds until you’d walk right back into his apartment and into his arms, apologizing for the fight, apologizing for breaking up with him.

But you never did.

He stood at the door for a good ten minutes before he finally realized you weren’t coming back.

It was the first time Sunghoon was actually scared of losing you. Scared he’d never see you again. Hold you again. Kiss you, take you to his bed, take you to your bed.

For half a second Sunghoon had regrets, but shoved it down with a smirk on his face, “She’ll be back.”

It’s been almost a year since you last saw him or spoke to him. You never once contacted him about the stuff of yours that still lingers in his apartment or your favorite hoodie you left in his car. You didn’t have the heart to try and get it back. Too afraid you’d fold right back into him.

Sunghoon was toxic, manipulative, and gaslit you daily. Was he a bad person? No. He was actually and honestly, a really good guy? Absolutely. You fell in love the moment you met him. Sunghoon had a reputation at college. The cool guy who slept with any girl who batted their pretty little eyes at him. The guy who was at every party, you’d never see him not at one. The guy who held a smirk on his face the entire time around his friends as they walked around campus.

But with you? He wasn’t that guy. He was sweet, loving, caring, and soft. He was the guy who worked at the local animal shelter to take care of the abandoned animals. He was the guy who would curl up in bed with you in his arms as he reread his favorite book. The one who’d whisper praises in your ear as he fucked you gently. Who’d cook for you and buy you flowers.

But on campus? He went back to the cool guy persona. Eventually, over time those lines got blurred. His two personas fused until the cool side overtook the sweet one. You didn’t recognize him anymore. He stopped being the sweet Sunghoon you grew to love, and become the one you hated.

You still loved him, but hated him all the same. When fights would break out, you always ran back to him. It was a repeated process over and over and over. Until you gave up and walked out that door for good, saying those final words to him.

And oh god did those words ring in his ears for that entire year.

You finally moved on, or well, tried to. You started finally going on dates again, meeting new people, and trying new things out. But unfortunately, it never worked out.

“I don’t get it,” you sigh, dropping yourself onto your best friend's couch, “They just—“

“Aren’t Park Sunghoon?” he said, giving you a teasing smile before waving his hand for you to quickly sit up.

“Sunno,” you pouted, waiting for your best friend to sit down so you could lay your head in his lap, “Sunghoon was an asshole.”

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugged, “But you’re looking for him in every man you’ve met, that’s why it’s not working.”

You roll your eyes, “It’s been practically a year, I’m so over it.”

Sunno rolls his eyes back, “Right. Keep telling yourself that YN.”

Before you can protest, your phone vibrates in your pocket, receiving a notification that you’ve gotten a new match on the dating app you’ve been using.

You sat up, scrolling through his profile, “I may have found someone.”

Sunoo raises his brows and glances at your phone and nods in approval.

—

You’ve been on multiple dates with Soobin since then. You haven’t been able to get over how sweet he was. Always opening doors (including car doors) for you. Pulling chairs out and waiting until you sat comfortably before pushing you closer to the table.

He always paid for your meals and coffee. Has even brought you meals and coffee to your workplace and when you’ve gotten out of class. He takes your hand before you cross the street. And walks you to your front door of your apartment, kissing you softly and not walking away until he hears the lock bolt shut.

He was everything you could have hoped for in someone. He did what Sunghoon did and more. You were lucky to have met Soobin.

But something still held you back. You didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend yet, or that you hadn’t met his friends. Or maybe you were just scared.

But you clung to Soobin anyway, walking down the street with him as the late winter snow started to fall. Soobin stopped walking to step in front of you, pulling your jacket tighter around you, “Are you too cold? Need my jacket too?”

You shook your head, “Thank you, Bin, but I am okay. You need to keep yourself warm too.”

Soobin gave you his bunny smile that you adore so much, watching as his blonde hair waved in the cool wind as he bent down and placed his lips against yours.

Sunghoon just happened to walk out of the coffee shop across the street when he noticed your arm linked with someone he didn’t know. Watching as this man stops in front of you and then kisses you.

Even though his face was tight and non-activated, his heart was breaking. Chills were sent down his spine at seeing someone who was him kissing you.

Sunghoon watched as the guy cupped your face, giving you a couple more kisses before planting one on your forehead and then pulling you to his side to continue walking. Sunghoon ran back inside the coffee shop, praying to whatever god was listening that you didn’t see him.

He spent that night pacing in his living room. Fingers between his teeth chewing at the nail. It was driving him up a wall at the image of Soobin kissing you. It repeated in his brain over and over again and he hated it. Why did he hate it? Why did it bother him? It’s been a year. He’s already done his time of pouting over your loss in his life. Why did he care so much?

Sunghoon kept asking himself that question as his thumbs hovered over your contact information, the photo of him kissing your cheek and the biggest smile on your face was still his contact photo for you. A pink heart emoji was still by your name. His hands trembled looking at the contact.

So he locked his phone and tossed it onto the couch, deciding he wasn’t going to worry about it.

But luck wasn’t on his side as he continued to see you around town with Soobin. And the more he saw you with him, the more Sunghoon started to lose his shit.

Every time Soobin would lean down to kiss you, Sunghoon’s heart would stop beating. Anytime he saw Soobin practically eye fuck you, it took everything in him to not march over and start swinging.

He had to do something—ANYTHING—to get you away from Soobin. To break up with him. To stop smiling at Soobin the way you used to smile at him.

It all kept him awake at night. And one night, Sunghoon broke. Sitting up so fast in bed and grabbing his phone from the charger and dialing your number.

ring…ring…

“Hello?”

Sunghoon nearly had a heart attack, he wasn’t expecting you to answer, “Hey, YN…”

“Sunghoon?” you sleepy said, pulling your phone from your ear to make sure you indeed were talking to Sunghoon. You blinked a few times to make sure you saw the name correctly and then the panic set in. Why was he calling you? When your phone started ringing you just naturally picked it up, being too tired to check the caller ID.

“Yeah, it’s me, love,” he whispers, hands shaking, “Did I wake you?”

You yawn on the other end, “I mean, yeah.”

Sunghoon sighed, “I’ll let you go back to sleep, I’m sorry.”

“No, Hoon what do you want? It’s two AM.”

“I just…wanted to talk to you. Come over? Please.”

You wanted to say no. To hang up the phone and go back to sleep and act like the call never happened. But his voice, the tiredness, and restlessness in it…something was wrong. You felt it.

Now you stood in his living room, standing in front of him as he leaned against the back of his couch. His hair was a mess, heavy bags were under his eyes and he looked like he hadn’t eaten much lately.

“Hoon,” you whispered, “What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t look at you, “How have you been?”

You cross your arms, “I know for a fact you didn’t wake me up at two in the morning to ask me to come here just to ask how I’ve been. Texting would have worked.”

Sunghoon scoffed, immediately putting that barrier over his heart, the one he put up when he realized how madly in love he was with you all that time ago, the barrier that eventually caused you to leave him. Sunghoon has had way too much time lately to think about what went wrong, and after seeing you with Soobin…it was all clear to him, “Right, but I can’t text you if you have a boyfriend, right? Can’t chance him seeing it.”

You looked at him confused, “What boyfriend?”

Sunghoon crossed his arms now, narrowing his eyes at you, “Don’t play stupid, YN. The blonde guy you were making out with on the sidewalk two weeks ago.”

He saw. He’s seen you with Soobin. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you happy, knowing that Sunghoon knew.

“Are you stalking me now?” you raised a brow and scoffed, “Didn’t take you to be that type.”

“I’m not stalking you. I just happened to have seen you with him.”

You roll your eyes, “Soobin isn’t my boyfriend, but if that’s all you wanted to say, then can I go?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer, he just stared at you, trying to find the words to beg you to not go. To stay with him.

You poked your tongue in your cheek, starting to turn away, “Is he better than me?”

You whipped back around to look at him, “Excuse me?”

Sunghoon shrugged, “Is he better than me? There’s no way he is,” he chuckles, “If he was you’d be fucking him right now instead of standing here in front of me.”

Oh, you were heated, “You know what, Sunghoon, this reason right here is why I ended it with you. You’re so toxic and say such shitty and hurtful things and you don’t even care.”

He shrugs, looking away from you and to the hallway, “Can’t blame me when all you do is yell at me.”

There it was. That toxic side. That part where he tries to flip the tables against you.

Tears swelled in your eyes as you looked at him, “I don’t need this,” you turned and walked towards the door, “Goodbye, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon was immediately at your side, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him, “No, baby, please don’t go.”

You tried to push out of his grip, “Don’t call me that! It hurts too much!” The tears were now falling down your face, blurring your vision as you continued to try and push him off you.

Sunghoon gripped both sides of your arms, “Please don’t walk away from me again!” he gently shook you, “I am so fucking in love with you. I won’t be able to handle it if you walk back out that door again.”

Tears were now in his eyes, his body shaking and his knees weak.

You blinked a few times to regain your vision, seeing the man in front of you, seeing how the tears rushed down his face.

Sunghoon fell to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding to your waist and resting his head against your stomach, “I couldn’t stand seeing you with him. It hurt too damn much,” his voice became shaky, unsteady, “I need you, baby, and I am so so so sorry for how I treated you. You didn’t deserve it. I lost sight of who I was. I was scared to let myself fully love. To let you fully love me. And it’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I let you walk away. I was toxic, I was an asshole. But I can’t lose you again. Not again. I couldn’t handle it. I don’t know how I survived the first time and I sure as hell know I won’t this time if you walk away from me.”

He sobbed, not being able to stop his tears from drenching the carpet at his knees, squeezing his hands tightly at your side, begging and pleading with you to not leave him.

You slowly rested your hands in his hair, parting it neatly like how he likes it done and slowly sliding your hand down his face. He leaned into your touch, your thumbs wiping away the tears that stained his face.

You still loved him. Every piece of him. Sunoo was right, you looked for Sunghoon in every man you met. Didn’t want to commit because they weren’t him. Soobin was different, yeah, but he still wasn’t Sunghoon.

You knelt down in front of him, not at eye level with him, “Please stop crying,” you whispered, “I’m right here.”

He shook his head, “I can’t lose you again.”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, resting your forehead against his, “You won’t. I’m right here.”

Sunghoon pulled you into his lap, holding onto you for dear life as if someone was going to rip you from him. He dug his face into your neck, squeezing you tightly to him, “I love you and I am so so sorry.”

You leaned into him, “I love you so much, I forgive you.”

You’ve never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so open, and wearing his heart on his sleeve. He’s never held you so tight before. Never kissed your neck and shoulder like he was right now, with so much love and desperation to keep you.

You stayed in his lap until his crying slowly and breathing was steady again. You played with his hair until you felt his grip on you loosen, “You need some sleep.”

He barely was able to shake his head, “I don’t want you to go.”

You forced him to look at you, slowly placing kisses on his moles, “I’ll stay the night.”

Sunghoon slowly nodded, wrapping his arms tightly back around you and carrying you to his room, gently laying you down on his bed and cuddling up to you, pulling you to his chest.

“Baby?”

“Yes, Hoonie?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You looked up at him, giving a small smile and nod, “I would love that.”

Sunghoon didn’t waste a moment to cup your face and kiss you softly, completely breathing you in.

He was unsteady without you, and it took losing you for him to realize it. You kept him centered. And he’s not going to risk losing you again.

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

#yeonzzzn asks #myiceprince #sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #reader x sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #exs to lovers #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst #yeonzzzn writing

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oddinary4bts · 7 months ago

Text

Chasing Cars | ch 7 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: hangover, curses, alcohol, leg day at the gym, jungkook's reputation, a v dangerous game of spin the bottle, explicit content: jungkook's ass, hickeys, oral sex (female and male receiving), praising, fingering, marking, mouth fucking, hair pulling, spitting, degradation, protected sex,

☆word count: 15k (whoops)

☆a/n: more frustration?? and then not. Enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, March 2nd

[08:12 am] bröther👽: call me when ure up

You’ve been ignoring the text since you woke up an hour and a half ago. Pretending that you never received it, pretending that Jimin held his promise and didn’t tell anything to Taehyung.

It’s a foolish dream – the text is proof enough that Taehyung knows, or at least perhaps suspects something about you and Jungkook. You don’t know what to do, what to think, so you ignore it altogether.

Maybe if you ignore it long enough, it’ll disappear.

Maybe if you ignore it long enough, yesterday won’t have happened.

Jungkook invades your thoughts, his drunken kiss chasing everything else away. Your blood heats up, your cheeks redden, and your heart is beating faster in your chest as you relive the scene, again and again.

You’ve been reliving it all night long, the ghost of his soft lips on yours haunting you in your sleep.

You sigh, rolling on your side, hiding your face in your pillow. You’re aware you should get up, but you can’t bring yourself to, too afraid to run into Jungkook. Though you haven’t heard him move from his room, and you assume he’s fighting against his hangover, or maybe he’s still asleep. Another sigh escapes your lips as you turn on your back, looking up to the ceiling.

Maybe Jungkook was drunk enough to forget about last night. It’d make things easier - maybe then you won’t have to confront him at all. But you know it’s wishful thinking - he was steady enough to kiss you dumb, so you highly doubt he’ll forget.

Especially if the kiss stole the breath from him like it did to you…

You groan, turning to hide your face in a pillow again. Maybe you should disappear, vanish into shadows until you don’t have to talk to your brother or to Jungkook. Or maybe you should just move to another country and start a new life.

You hate this. You wish it’d be easier, simpler, but of course you had to get involved with your brother’s best friend. It feels like the start of a corny teenage drama, the kind of thing you’d once watched with reverence.

Now you know it to be hell.

Your phone vibrates a couple of times on the mattress where you left it, multiple text messages coming in at the same time. You raise your head from the pillow, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen, but from this angle you can’t see who texted you. Annoyed, you roll until you can grab your phone, and you look down at the screen, squinting your eyes.

Your eyes widen, and your heart stops beating far too long for it to be normal. And then you gulp, rereading the messages to make sure you aren’t imagining anything.

[10:12 am] bröther👽: plz call soon, got some plans tonight [10:12 am] Nabi: do u want to go shopping this afternoon? [10:12 am] JK: sorry about last night. do we have painkillers?

The texts don’t change. In truth, you don’t mind about Taehyung or Nabi. You just didn’t expect Jungkook to text you, especially not to apologize. It makes you think about the kiss, though differently this time.

Is he really apologetic? Or does he only believe it to be the right thing to do? You can’t tell. But you still get out of bed, going to the bathroom so that you can retrieve painkillers for him. You make a pit-stop by the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and then you walk to his bedroom. You stop in front of the door, heart suddenly beating out of your chest.

This is just Jungkook, you try to remind yourself. Nothing to be worried about. Except that he’s your brother’s best friend, and that you fucked, and that you can’t really get him out of your head now…

You take a deep steadying breath, and then you gently rap your knuckles on the door. You wait for a few seconds, awaiting an answer, but none come.

“Jungkook?” you let out.

A long groan replies, and you can’t stop the smile that grows on your lips.

“Can I come in?”

Another groan answers, though this time Jungkook eventually says, “Yes.”

So you turn the doorknob, pushing the door open. Jungkook’s room is neater than you’d expected it to be - a few scattered items of clothing lay on the floor, and the dark monitor of his PC setup faces you. You scan the rest of the room, your cheeks turning bright red when you notice Jungkook.

Mostly, you notice Jungkook’s ass, as he’s lying on his belly, naked, over the covers.

“Put some damn clothes on,” you blurt, looking away from him.

He groans. “Don’t speak so loud, shit.” A few seconds of silence, and then he adds, “Besides, you’ve seen me naked before.”

“You have no shame,” you grumble, but you still step into his room. “I got you painkillers.”

“Why have shame when you’ve got a body like mine?” he teases, raising his head. A boyish smile sports his lips, though he quickly lets his head fall back down, grunting. “Thanks for the painkillers.”

To your relief, he pulls a blanket over him as he turns, hiding the lower half of his body. He sits up, wincing, and you hand the water and the pills to him. He looks at them like they’re foreign, before patting the bed next to him.

“Don’t be shy,” he says, leaning back against his headboard. The one you’ve heard banging in your wall way too many times. “I don’t bite.”

You roll your eyes. “Just take the damn pills.”

He pouts, lower lip jutting out, and you ignore the way it makes your heart race in your chest. He finally grabs the painkillers, and you blush as your fingers brush, electricity jolting through you.

How can he have such an effect on you?

“Thank you,” Jungkook lets out once he’s taken the white pills and downed the water.

You nod. “I’ll let you sleep it off, now.”

“Is my room so not inviting?” he teases as you’re walking out.

You turn around, leaning against the door frame, arms folded on your chest. “We can’t do this.”

“We can be friends,” he says, features serious as he holds your gaze. Though you struggle to keep your eyes on his - his strong body invites the gaze, and you seek to explore the planes of his body.

He must have noticed it because he breaks into a smirk

“Friends wear clothes around each other,” you reply.

He rolls his eyes, sighing deeply. “Is my body that bad?”

“Do you really need the compliment that bad?”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “So you admit it would be a compliment?”

You shut your eyes in annoyance. “You’re insufferable, Jungkook.”

When your eyes flutter open to that same boyish grin on his lips, you feel yourself folding. You tell him you’ll just get your phone in your room, and then you walk back to his bedroom, hesitantly crossing the threshold. He’s already lying down again, and he’s thankfully pulled the blanket higher over his body.

You sit on the side of his bed, clutching your phone in your hands as if it’s a lifeline. Jungkook’s gaze is heavy on your profile, and you glance at him.

“Don’t worry about yesterday,” you tell him, meeting his gaze.

Big eyes welcome you in, and you feel entranced. You wonder if he feels the same - if your gaze is prison to his eyes as well.

“Are you sure?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

You shrug. “I kissed you back, didn’t I?”

“You did.” He slowly breaks into a smirk. “You seemed to enjoy it quite a lot.”

“Oh my God,” you let out, making to get up and leave. Jungkook is quick - he grabs your wrist, stopping your motion.

“I’m just teasing you, peach.”

“You can’t tease me like that,” you scold him. “We can’t do that.”

He lets go of your wrist, almost reluctantly. His fingers twitch as they fall on his bed between the two of you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, and you’re surprised at how genuine he sounds.

You nod once. “No worries.”

Eyes locked on his, you both fall silent. You feel like you’re falling forward, like Jungkook really is the sun pulling in the comet that you are. You wonder if he reads everything in your eyes - if he knows that the moment you fucked for the first time, you were gone.

You hate that you are. You feel weak, but how can you resist?

The sound of ringing startles you, cutting through the tension in the room. You look down at your phone in your hands, and your heart drops to your ass at the picture of Taehyung looking back at you.

And maybe you’re hungover too, or perhaps still drunk. Because you don’t think about it - you answer the Facetime call, and you smile a tight-lipped smile as you wait for it to connect.

“Hey loser,” Taehyung greets you when you appear.

The moment his eyes narrow, eyebrows bunching together, you realize your mistake. Somehow, you take it in stride, immediately crafting a lie out of thin air.

Or maybe half a lie.

“Your loser of a best friend got so drunk he needed me to give him painkillers,” you offer as an explanation, and you turn the camera towards Jungkook, who gives a thumbs up, face hidden in his mattress.

“Sounds on brand,” Taehyung replies, features relaxing. “Tough party yesterday?”

“He hosted your friends over here,” you explain, surveying Taehyung through the screen. “He and Jimin got pissed out drunk.”

“Hey, I wasn’t that drunk,” Jungkook interjects, faking offence.

“Shut the fuck up, JK,” Taehyung says, and you really try to read his features.

Has Jimin told him anything after all?

“What are your plans tonight?” you ask your brother, trying to stir the conversation away from yesterday.

Taehyung smiles. “Date night with this girl,” he says, and he turns the camera towards a pretty girl that you recognize from the Instagram Jungkook showed you.

“Tae!” she shrieks, and she turns away from the camera.

“She’s shy,” Taehyung says, chuckling. “But we’re going to go eat at a restaurant near the Eiffel Tower.”

“Romantic,” you chime.

His smile grows wider, and you see it in his eyes. You see the light overtaking them, the fond softness that makes him look so young and vulnerable. “Always.”

There’s a shared silence, interrupted by the shuffling of Jungkook behind you. You look over your shoulder to find him sitting again, and you can’t stop your eyes from dipping down.

You hate that the sheet has slipped. Because you see his semi for half a second before he’s able to hide himself again. If he noticed, Jungkook doesn’t let it show, instead saying into your phone, “Partying without you isn’t the same, bro.”

“We’ll party when you get here,” Taehyung promises. “The French know how to party.”

You stare at Jungkook’s reflection on the screen of your phone, at the smirk that grows on his lips. “Oh, we’ll have catching up to do, I’m sure.”

“Think I can still beat you at beer pong?” Taehyung asks, grinning at his friend.

“Good luck with that,” Jungkook replies. “I’ve been perfecting my form.”

Taehyung bursts out laughing, and Jungkook chuckles behind you. It’s a cute sound - the one he reserves for his close friends. You like the sound, like that he’s comfortable enough around you to let you hear it.

The two friends keep on talking, Jungkook seemingly healed from his hungover as he goes on and on about stuff that happened yesterday. He avoids everything related to you, but he speaks about Lisa, far more than you expected he would.

So you gulp, listening to him praise the girl, listening to Taehyung asking when he’ll fuck her. It does something ugly to you, and your features fall, though the two men seem to be too focused on their conversation to notice.

Until Jungkook’s gaze dances on your features, and he says, “Sorry, I hi-jacked the conversation.”

You shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

Yet he slightly furrows his brow, concern seeping into his gaze. It stays for the rest of the conversation, as Taehyung’s girlfriend - Ariane - finally joins in. They look happy, and for a moment, jealousy steals your heart. You’re good at hiding it though, far better than you hide your disappointment from Jungkook speaking about Lisa, and soon enough the conversation reaches its natural end, Ariane and Taehyung needing to head to their reservation.

You tell them goodbye, Jungkook waving at them over your shoulder. The moment the call disconnects, Jungkook says, “You know I don’t care about Lisa.”

You glance at him. “Okay?”

“I’m just trying to make sure he’s not unto us…” he sheepishly adds. “Jimin texted some shit in the group chat last night.”

Your throat goes dry. “He did?”

Jungkook’s tongue darts to toy with his piercings, and he nods once. “Yeah.”

You wait for him to say more, but he only looks at you, features unreadable. “What did he say?” you ask after a few seconds of holding his gaze.

“That you and I are pretty friendly,” he admits. “With a lot of emojis.”

You shut your eyes. “Tae is going to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t be worried about you,” Jungkook reassures you, chuckling lightly. “If he kills someone, I guarantee it will be me.”

“Fuck.”

He nods, then shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.” He holds your gaze for a few more seconds, before glancing outside. “Anyways, I think I’ll head to the gym.”

You tilt your head to the side, a small, disbelieved laugh escaping your mouth. “Aren’t you hungover?”

“Working out helps with headaches,” Jungkook explains. “At least for me.”

Unconvinced, you nod once, and then you get up from where you were sitting on his bed. You cast another glance around his room - your eyes still on a frame with two young boys in Disney World, smiling brightly. You recognize Jungkook in the youngest one, and something about the fact he keeps a picture of him when he was younger on his bedside table is far too endearing.

“You have a brother?” you ask.

His eyes trail to the pictures. “Yeah, Junghyun.”

“I’ve never heard about him before.”

He smiles, winking at you. “You never asked.”

You roll your eyes, though a smile curves your lips upwards as well. “Alright then, I’ll let you go to the gym.”

“Want to come with?” Jungkook asks.

You widen your gaze. “I don’t really go to the gym.”

Jungkook slips out of bed, keeping his sheet around his waist. The muscles on his abdomen move under his skin, and you can’t help but glance down, remembering his semi-erection earlier. You flush entirely red, and Jungkook laughs, clearly knowing where your mind went.

“Never too late to start, peach,” he teases. “I can help you.”

“I’m supposed to go shopping with Nabi this afternoon,” you say, though you haven’t accepted your friend’s invitation yet.

“You don’t need more clothes,” Jungkook says, heading towards a drawer. You watch as he rummages through it, before pulling a pair of black Calvin Klein underwear from it. “You’ve got plenty enough already.”

“And?” you let out. “Girls go shopping for more than clothes, Jungkook.”

He winks at you, before turning his back to you. The sheet drops to the floor, and you immediately look away as he puts his underwear on, facing you again when he’s finally hidden himself from you.

“Please?”

“Please what?” you ask.

“Please come with me?”

There’s a light in his eyes. Something hopeful, vulnerable, and it takes you aback. So much so that you almost take a step back. Your heart goes wild in your chest again, and you hold his gaze.

What would have happened between you and Jeon Jungkook if he wasn’t your brother’s best friend?

“Why do you want me to come?” you ask, sounding a little breathless.

“You’re fun to be around,” Jungkook offers as an explanation, shrugging. “And I prefer working out with people.”

“Can’t you invite Jimin or someone else?”

Jungkook pouts. “Jimin’s hangovers are a lot worse than mine. He won’t want to go out.”

You sigh, holding Jungkook’s gaze as you ponder if you should go or not. If it’s a good idea to spend friendly time with Jungkook after everything that’s happened. But you don’t seem to be able to escape his orbit. Not when his gravity is so strong, his eyes so open.

“Alright,” you say. “But don’t expect me to lift heavy.”

*****

You meet Jungkook in the hall after you’ve both eaten a small breakfast - nothing too heavy before the gym, as Jungkook said. He offers you a friendly smile, and then he looks down your frame, the smile melting into a smirk that makes your blood eat up in your veins.

“You look hot, peach.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “You’ve never seen a girl in sports leggings before?” you ask as you make your way to the closet so that you can pull your coat out.

Jungkook is already wearing his, and he watches you as you put your coat on, stuffing your phone in the pocket before zipping it up.

“None that look as good as you,” he flirts.

“Shut up,” you grumble, slightly shaking your head.

“What! It’s true,” he insists, and you push him towards the door so that he moves away from your boots.

You put them on, before grabbing a pair of sneakers from the closet as well. Once you straighten, Jungkook grabs the shoes from you, stuffing them in his gym bag as you go to retrieve your purse from where you left it in the kitchen, cursing yourself for not grabbing it before putting your boots on.

You meet Jungkook in the hall again, and he leads you outside, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Careful, it’s pretty icy.”

You nod, and you hold onto the railing of the staircase, following behind Jungkook after you’ve locked the door. You successfully make it to the bottom, and then he guides you to his car. As you climb in the passenger seat, Jungkook throws his gym bag on the backseat, before walking around the car to sit behind the wheel.

As he turns the key in the engine, you pull your phone out of your pocket. You go to Nabi’s conversation, feeling bad that you will have to decline her invitation.

[11:09 am] You: can’t, going to the gym

Jungkook pulls out in the street, and then he’s driving towards his gym, turning the music on. He hums to the radio, seemingly fully at ease. You don’t know how he does it - your heart is racing in your chest at the perspective of going to the gym with him.

[11:11 am] Nabi: the fuck [11:12 am] Nabi: who are you going with

You debate telling her the truth for the whole ride to the gym, and some more as you walk in. Jungkook hands you your sneakers as you stop in the place where you have to take your boots off, and then he offers to keep your coat and purse in a locker with his stuff. You accept, though you ask to buy a water bottle for yourself first.

“I got you covered, peach,” Jungkook says, flicking your nose. “I brought a reusable one for you.”

“How kind,” you tease, and he grins boyishly before heading into the men’s locker room.

You wait for him outside, eyes on the conversation with Nabi. You wonder what she would say if she knew - would she tease you about the Incident? Would she freak out like you know Ria would?

You say to hell with it, and you reply to her last text with the truth before turning the screen off, looking up to watch Jungkook as he walks out of the locker room, now clad in athletic shorts and a skintight black t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination.

“Ready?” Jungkook asks, and he hands you the water bottle he mentioned.

It’s already full, and you take a small sip before nodding your head. “What do we start with?”

Jungkook smiles softly for a few seconds, and then his features grow conflicted. He looks away from you, his Adam’s apple bobbing once as he swallows. You’d give a lot to know what he’s thinking of right now, though life doesn’t work that way.

And would you be able to handle the truth anyway?

“We warm up with cardio, and then it’s leg day,” he tells you as he motions towards the corner with all the cardio machines. “Let’s see how much you can squat, peach.”

You snort as you follow him. “Are you just trying to get a good look at my ass?”

You’re relieved when he bites, offering you his usual cocky smirk. “So what if I am?”

“You’re disgusting,” you say, though you laugh with him as you reach the treadmills. “By the way,” you let out as you both climb on a treadmill, turning them on. “I’m hosting some friends at the apartment tonight. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh are you now?” Jungkook teases. “And you were mad at me for it yesterday?”

You glare at him, right as he helps you with increasing the speed of the treadmill. “I got it,” you say, swatting his hand away. “This is not my first time at the gym.” You pause, adjusting the walking speed and the inclination of the treadmill to your preferred setting, and then you turn to look at Jungkook again. “I wasn’t mad at you for hosting friends, I was mad because you didn’t warn me.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t planned in advance,” Jungkook reveals. “Jimin cornered me at the library while I was finishing my shift with Sera and they looked way too excited. I suggested our place because they’re always the ones hosting us.”

You’re not surprised Jungkook would offer - he’s a good friend to those he cares about.

“Makes sense,” you let out. “So I’m telling you about tonight in advance, see?”

“It’s tonight,” he says, cocking an eyebrow.

“And?”

“I’d hardly call it in advance.”

You sigh, looking up to the ceiling. “Whatever.”

“Hope your friends don’t mind me around,” Jungkook says after a whole minute of silence.

You shoot him a surprised look. “Don’t you have plans tonight?”

“Yeah, your party.”

“It’s not a party.”

He shrugs. “I’ll be there nonetheless.”

The thought of Jungkook staying when your friends will be there makes you anxious, and you quickly shake your head no. “You can’t.”

He frowns. “Why not? It’s my apartment too.”

“I don’t…” you trail off, thinking of Ria and her obsession with him.

You know her enough to know she’d jump on the occasion to seduce Jungkook. If she knew what happened between the two of you, she wouldn’t approach him at all - but she doesn’t know.

None of them do, except Hoseok, and even then he doesn’t really know.

“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Jungkook says, winking, and then he increases the speed of his treadmill to a run that doesn’t allow a conversation at the same time.

You follow suit, just so that you can blame the hammering of your heart in your chest on something else than the fear of what is going to happen tonight. You’d hoped Jungkook had something planned - anything, really - but maybe that had been wishful thinking.

Maybe you should have told him well in advance, asking him to clear the apartment tonight. But he’s been nice, if you forget about the fact he kissed you stupid last night. You don’t have it in you to push him away when he’s acting so… nicely.

And he keeps acting that way all through the gym. Even though you’re not nearly as strong as him, Jungkook encourages you, helps you with every exercise. You do notice him ogling your ass while you’re squatting, but you do the same to him, and he calls it even as you roll your eyes, blushing furiously.

It’s fun. It always is – spending time with Jungkook, that is. His easy laugh and smile keep the conversation alive, alight, and you don’t notice the time fly when Jungkook guides you to the mats, where he claims you’ll do some planks and then stretch.

You plop down on the mat, legs feeling like jelly, and Jungkook’s giggle fills your ear, warming your chest. You glance at him, catching him as he smiles down at you.

“We went easy,” he teases, sitting next to you. “You’re adorable.”

“You call that easy?” you let out in fake outrage. “I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“Oh, won’t you now?”

You roll your eyes at the innuendo in his voice. “Shut up.”

He grins, patting his pockets. As a frown moves on his features, you push yourself up, sitting.

“Is there something wrong?” you ask.

“I think I left my phone at the squat rack,” Jungkook answers. “Wait here, I’ll go see if it’s still there.”

You don’t have time to say anything before he’s jogging away, and you follow him with your gaze as he makes his way to the squat rack you used earlier. He doesn’t find his phone there – he shoots a look in your direction, and then he’s heading to the reception, to likely ask if someone brought his phone there.

You sigh before grabbing your own phone. You’re about to turn it back on when someone clears their throat, and you look up, eyes slightly widened in surprise.

“Hey,” a buff guy says. “You’re with JK?”

It takes you an awkward four seconds before you reply, “Yeah?”

The guy smiles, nodding once. “Thought so. I just wanted to warn you, that guy is a dick.”

“Excuse me?”

You can’t help it – the offence that takes over you at someone insulting Jungkook burns like acid in your mouth, and you frown as you look up at the buff guy. He raises his hands in defence, but you just keep on staring him down.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.” The guy’s hands fall at his side, clenching into fists once before he releases it. “We used to be friends, until my ex cheated on me with him,” he offers as an explanation. “I’d hate to see him hurt someone else.”

Though you do feel bad for the guy, you’re still offended – does he believe Jungkook is out to hurt you?

Is Jungkook out to hurt you?

“Listen, don’t worry about me,” you eventually say, not wanting to fight with someone that looks like they could kill you with one well-placed punch. “We’re just friends.”

The guy’s features relax, and his smile feels more genuine now. “Good, I’m glad.” He doesn’t move for a few seconds, and then he catches sight of Jungkook jogging back towards you. You meet Jungkook’s gaze at the same time as the guy says, “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

You don’t say anything, and Jungkook stops next to you, barely winded from jogging around. He drops on the mat next to you, phone in hand.

“What did Colton want with you?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “Nothing, really. He was just wondering if we were together.”

“Together?” Jungkook repeats, teasing tone in employ.

You cock an eyebrow. “Not like that, dumbass.”

He pouts, though he doesn’t say anything else. And when you look at him like this, you can’t believe he’d cheat on one of his friends. He’s always seemed like a good friend – hell, an hour ago you’d thought him to be a good friend to those he cares about. Which means he probably never cared about the guy – Colton.

But isn’t there something ugly in the act of cheating with someone that’s in a relationship?

“So we’re doing three minutes of planks,” Jungkook tells you.

“Three?!” you shriek.

He chuckles. “One minute of regular plank, and then one minute on each side.”

“Bruh.”

“You can do it, peach.”

He gets into position, and you reluctantly imitate him, mind still swirling with what he’s done. At the beginning of the semester, you wouldn’t have been surprised by that fact, yet now it feels odd, strange, even a little disturbing. As if for a moment you forgot how much of an arrogant asshole Jungkook can be, as if you forgot the reputation that follows him.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s broken up other couples than this Colton and his ex.

If Jungkook notices your unease, he doesn’t mention it. He does his planks like a champ, while you’re shaking for your life next to him, and then he shows you his stretching routine. You copy everything, and then you follow him back to the man’s locker room, waiting outside for him to change back into his clothes.

Colton goes into the locker room before Jungkook comes out, and he nods to you as he passes in front of you. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, and then watch him disappear at the bend in the hall. Jungkook gets out a couple of minutes later, as you’re turning on your phone again.

At the sight of the frown on his features, and the light red tint on his cheeks, you can only assume that he and Colton had a talk.

“Something wrong?” you ask him.

“No.” His answer is curt, almost cold, and you widen your gaze slightly as he hands you your stuff.

He barely waits for you to put your coat on before he’s walking to where you can grab your boots, and you awkwardly jog behind him, thighs burning, almost afraid he’s going to leave without you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you insist as you kick off your shoes, putting your boots on.

“Honestly peach,” Jungkook says. “Just drop it.”

It’s your turn to frown. “Did Colton speak to you?”

His silence is answer enough.

“Fuck that dude, Jungkook,” you try to reassure him, but it doesn’t look like it works.

Maybe because you’ve changed since Colton spoke to you, thoughts of Jungkook being a cheater haunting you.

“Just put your boots on,” Jungkook dismisses you, and anger starts welling in your chest.

You don’t say anything until you’re out of the gym, Jungkook’s car just a couple of meters away.

“You don’t have to act like a dick with me, you know?” you tell him.

Jungkook spins around to face you, and you almost bump into him. You catch yourself at the last second, and you look up to meet Jungkook’s dark gaze. Even in the light of the day, shadows are hiding behind his pupils. It makes him look raw – like he’s been chased by demons of his own, thoughts haunting him in ways you can’t understand.

“I’m not being a dick with you, peach,” he drawls. “We’re just friends, and I don’t feel like talking.”

Oh.

“Are you upset because I told him that we’re just friends?”

“I’m upset because that fucker told you stuff I’d rather you not know,” Jungkook answers, voice slowly rising as he fails to put his anger in check.

You furrow your brows. “Everyone knows your reputation, Jungkook.”

He recoils. He physically recoils, taking a step back as if you’ve just punched him in the face. You feel bad – you feel infinitely bad, as his gaze grows pained for a few seconds before the anger hides it away again.

“Right.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Why do you want to be my friend, then?”

“Because people are going to say shit,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

He laughs, but it’s so cold, devoid of any warmth he’s offered to you recently. “Before you start believing some shit, I was fucking the girl before Colton got in a relationship with her. I told him she wasn’t trustworthy, and we fucked at a party again after she told me she dumped him.”

“You don’t need to tell me this.”

“Oh, but I do.” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “Colton’s always been jealous of me, and when I told him what happened he just got mad, and refused to listen to me.”

You get why – whoever that girl was, Colton probably had feelings for her. And it sucks to see someone you like getting it on with one of your friends.

Jungkook’s gaze moves from yours to the door of the gym, and you look behind you to see Colton walking out. He notices the two of you, and you think you see him rolling his eyes in the distance.

“Let’s go home,” you tell Jungkook, walking around him to reach his car.

Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, but then he does, unlocking the doors as he makes his way to the driver’s side. You get in, and the engine purrs to life as Jungkook turns the key in the ignition.

There are a few seconds of silence as he adjusts the warmth, and then he looks at you.

“I wouldn’t have slept with her if they were still together,” he says.

His big eyes hold so much innocence that you immediately believe him. You don’t know if you should, if you’ve just been ensnared, the prey to the spider, but you’re in too deep him.

You’re already in too fucking deep.

“I know, Jungkook,” you reassure him. “Don’t let this dude get to your head.”

You see his Adam’s apple bobbing once, and then he nods and faces forward, getting ready to drive. You can’t divert your gaze from his profile, and you find yourself gulping.

You really are in too deep.

*****

Turns out that letting Jungkook stay for your get-together was a good idea. Indeed, he’s cooked noodles for everyone, and your friends have been eating, praising Jungkook for his skills. He only shrugged his shoulders, as if to say it’s nothing, but you know he likes the praise.

It shows in the way his eyes swim with stars, so far from the shadows that invaded his gaze earlier at the gym.

And you’ve been trying not to think about it too much. Not to think that whenever Ria looks in his direction, you feel something ugly twisting in your chest. So far, Jungkook hasn’t given her any attention, but you know her – she doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants.

Tonight, what she wants is Jeon Jungkook.

You’re not the only one who’s been monitoring the two – Seokjin, with his quiet and calm presence, has been looking at your friend ever since everyone got to your apartment. You think you see his disappointment as Ria barely speaks to him, though you don’t know him well enough to tell.

Jungkook turns out to be a good barman as well. He takes everyone’s order when you finish eating, and then he heads to the kitchen to make every drink. Ria follows him, and you clench your jaw, though Hoseok immediately follows as well, offering you a wink.

You’re lucky you have him. Otherwise, tonight would surely go to shit real quick.

“Didn’t know your roommate was so chill,” Yoongi says from where he’s sitting on the couch.

You’re currently sitting on the floor next to Nabi, with Namjoon on the other side of her. They’ve been conversing just them two for a while, but Yoongi’s statement attracts their attention.

“I mean, with the reputation that he has…” Namjoon trails off.

You cock an eyebrow, indignant. “What’s wrong with his reputation?”

Nabi turns to you, eyes going wide, while Seokjin’s lips spread into a small smile. Yoongi snorts, though you keep the eyebrow cocked, meeting Namjoon’s gaze.

“I mean, isn’t he the guy that’s fucked most of the campus?” Namjoon asks, sounding far too innocent.

“What’s wrong with it?” you challenge. “Wouldn’t you fuck the whole campus if you could?”

Namjoon looks scared now. His gaze falls to Nabi, who shrugs and meets your eyes again. “Why are you so pressed?” she asks, though her lips spread into a smile. “Is it because of the Incident?”

You roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “It’s not.”

“The Incident?” Yoongi chimes in.

You send a warning glare towards Nabi, before saying, “Nothing.”

“What’s nothing?” Jungkook’s familiar voice says as he walks back from the kitchen.

He’s holding two gin and tonics, and he offers the first one to you, before handing the other to Seokjin. Everyone stays suspiciously silent as Jungkook walks back to where you’re sitting, before plopping down on the floor next to you.

Nabi loses it. She bursts out laughing, and your cheeks burn as you punch her in the shoulder.

“Ow!” she shrieks.

Hoseok and Ria walk out of the kitchen then. Hoseok has two beers – one for himself and one for Namjoon – while Ria carries a cranberry vodka for herself and a whiskey on ice for Yoongi. You see the slight frown on her face as she notices Jungkook next to you. It’s only there for a fraction of a second, and then her gaze slides to you, an eyebrow cocking.

When a small, knowing smirk grows on her lips, you feel like disappearing through the floor.

After that, conversations start around you once more, as Ria sits on the couch between Yoongi and Seokjin, and Hoseok sits in front of you, on the other side of the coffee table. Jungkook leans closer to you, trying to catch your gaze, and you turn your head towards him.

“What?” you ask.

“Do you like your drink?”

He’s cute like this. Big eyes awaiting your answer as if it’s the most important thing he’ll hear all night, tongue toying with his piercings anxiously. The glint in his eyes resembles a star, and for a moment you bask in its glow.

Until you snap back to reality when he slowly frowns.

“Is it bad?” he asks.

“No!” you quickly say. “Not at all. I like it.” You make a show of taking a big sip, and though it’s stronger than your usual, you still offer him a small nod. “See, it’s delicious.”

His lips curve upwards. “Good.”

You smile softly, your eyes falling to his empty hands in his lap. The tattoos on the back of his right hand are stark on his skin, and your eyes slowly trail up his arm up to where the ink disappears in the sleeve of his oversized white t-shirt. He’s smirking by the time you meet his gaze again, and you gulp, eyes falling to your drink as if searching for a safe haven.

“You’re not drinking?” you ask.

“Never two nights in a row,” he replies.

You don’t buy his act at all, as you’ve seen him drinking more than two days in a row a lot of times already.

“Bullshit,” you call him out.

He narrows his gaze. “What do you mean, bullshit?”

“You drink all the time,” you state.

Though as you say it you remember the parties when you’ve seen him as the designated driver. It makes you furrow your brows, right as he says, “I’ve been trying to drink less. Besides, I work tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you let out.

He’s about to say something else when Hoseok, beaming with mischief, says, “Should we play Truth or Dare?”

A chorus of yes and nos answers, until Nabi says. “We should just play Spin the Bottle. Truth or Dare is for kids.”

“Hey, Truth or Dare is fun,” Hoseok says, pouting, his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

Nabi winks at him, especially as her suggestion ends up winning, and Yoongi and Hoseok clear the coffee table and move it to the side so that you can all sit in a big circle on the floor.

“Younger should spin first!” Ria suggests, knowing fully well that she is the youngest.

You all agree, and she reaches for Namjoon’s empty beer bottle that was put on the floor between you all. She grabs it by the body, then looks at everyone, gaze shining with amusement.

“Who wants to kiss me?” she teases.

You wonder if you’re the only one who notices Seokjin’s cheek turning pink as Nabi bursts, “Me!”

As everyone laughs, and Seokjin catches up with a small chuckle, Ria finally spins the bottle. You watch as it spins once, twice, thrice, slowing down on the fourth spin until it fully comes to a stop, facing Hoseok.

“Well, I guess it’ll be you, Hoba,” Ria says, shrugging her shoulders, and then she kneels so that she can reach Hoseok across the circle.

He grabs her by the cheeks, and he lands a big peck on her slightly parted lips. Both of them didn’t close their eyes for the kiss, and they start laughing awkwardly as Ria sits back.

Yoongi’s cool smile tells you everything you need to know, and you hold in the knowing smirk that wants to split across your features.

Hoseok spins the bottle, and it turns for longer than it did with Ria. It stops on Seokjin, who lets out a startled sound as Hoseok turns towards him, grabbing his cheeks.

“Come here, Jinnie!” Hoseok exclaims.

Seokjin lets out a disgruntled sound, which quickly turns disgusted as Hoseok kisses him, with a lot more lips than he did with Ria. It earns a lot of laughs, especially as Seokjin repeatedly wipes his mouth, using the sleeve of his shirt as a napkin.

“Why was that so wet?” he complains, but ever so the good player, he still spins the bottle.

It turns and turns, a never-ending dance until friction finally slows it down.

You purse your lips when it lands on you, and you look up to meet Seokjin’s gaze.

“Well, well, well,” you let out.

“I’d much rather kiss you than him,” Seokjin grumbles as he leans across the space.

“What do you mean, he’s a good kisser,” you tease, and Hoseok beams as Ria and Nabi let out a prolonged “Ew!” at the reference to the fact that you and Hoseok used to sleep together.

Though they don’t know that you’ve stopped, and that Hoseok is dating Yoongi now. Not that you’ll be the one to tell them.

You lean forward, meeting Seokjin in the space over the bottle. Right before your lips press on his plump ones, you turn towards Ria. To your surprise, she isn’t looking at you – her eyes are on Jungkook, and the knowing smile from earlier comes back in full force.

It’s too late for you to look behind you, and your eyes flutter shut as Seokjin’s lips find yours. They are soft, warm, and his kiss is gentle, as if he doesn’t want to scare you away. If it wasn’t for the fact that Jungkook is here, you think you’d indulge, but you immediately pull away, sitting back next to your brother’s best friend.

Next to the man with whom you’ve been pretending you haven’t fucked like animals just a few weeks ago.

Unable to resist, you glance at him. He is frowning, though he quickly hides behind an easy smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and for a moment you want to scream at him that he’s stupid, that he shouldn’t care, that you need to pretend… but you resist.

Not because you’re surrounded by your friends, no. Because you want him to want you – you want to be the moon he chases at night, and you don’t know what to make of it.

You look away from him, reaching in the middle of the circle to the glass bottle awaiting your spin. Seokjin nods encouragingly, and you spin the bottle…

Only to have it end on Seokjin again.

“Bruh,” Nabi lets out. “I want to kiss people too.”

This time, you don’t miss the muscle ticking in Ria’s eyebrows. So you offer her a wink as you lean towards Seokjin, who meets you with a smile on his lips.

You make to pull away again, but Seokjin grabs your cheeks, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body immediately reacts – heart racing in your chest, blood pumping in your ears. Your friends cheer as Seokjin’s tongue teases your bottom lip, and then he lets you go, sitting back in his spot while you stay still for a few seconds, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

He’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are on Ria, who’s looking down at her drink.

So he’s trying to make her jealous… You slowly nod your head, before sitting back in your spot. Jungkook shifts next to you, and his knee brushes against the side of your thigh.

You shoot him a look, and he offers you a tight-lipped smile, before settling his attention on Seokjin as he spins the bottle again. This time, it lands on Yoongi, and they exchange a small peck, though Seokjin fake-gags through it all.

“What’s wrong with kissing the homies?” Hoseok teases him, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Nothing,” Seokjin grumbles. “I love you guys, but I’d rather not kiss my friends.”

“You seemed to like kissing Y/n, though,” Ria says, an innocent look on her face that you know she’s faking.

You snort, hiding it behind a long sip of your drink, as everyone watches Seokjin as he looks at Ria, gaze wide, trying to find something to say but clearly coming up short with ideas.

Silence stretches, growing awkward, until Seokjin says, “I’d kiss you like that too.”

Both Nabi and Hoseok let out a long “Oh!” though Nabi immediately follows hers with, “Then kiss her.”

Seokjin flushes fully red, and Ria grins, cocking her head to the side.

“I’m game unless you’re too shy,” she says, voice a little sultry.

Seokjin seems afraid now. He looks around the group, as if searching for salvation, but everyone is just looking on with expectation lighting up their gazes.

“Well…” Seokjin lets out, and he gulps. “Hopefully we’ll spin the bottle on each other.”

“Come on, bro,” Jungkook interjects. “Don’t tell me you need that to kiss her?”

Before Seokjin has time to say anything else, Ria grabs his face from where she’s sitting next to him, and she pulls him into a languid kiss that, despite his shy demeanour, he reciprocates right away. People cheer, and you smile widely, your eyes turning to Jungkook amidst the chaos ensuing.

He’s already looking at you. His eyes dip down to your lips as if he’s considering kissing you right then and there as well, but he glances away, sucking on his piercings. Though the interaction might have passed as nothing to an outside gaze, you feel your blood boiling in your veins, far more than when Seokjin kissed you earlier.

Because no one other than Jungkook can have that effect on you.

When Ria and Seokjin finally pull away, Yoongi hesitantly reaches for the bottle, making a joke that everyone laughs at except you, as you’re still reeling from the way Jungkook looked at you. The bottle spins, and it stops on Nabi, who beams.

“Finally,” she jokes.

The peck she exchanges with Yoongi is cold, that of two friends more than anything, and then Nabi is spinning the bottle as well.

You don’t miss the way her gaze slides sideways to Namjoon. You also don’t miss the way Namjoon slightly leans into her – what you do miss is the bottle as it stops.

Pointing towards Jungkook.

“Oh,” Nabi lets out, and she turns red.

Jungkook, suddenly the picture-perfect arrogant asshole that you know him to be, says, “Don’t sound too disappointed, I’ve been told I’m a good kisser.”

Nabi chuckles awkwardly, and she meets Namjoon’s gaze. He motions towards Jungkook with his beer, as if to encourage her, and she nods once before leaning towards Jungkook.

They kiss right in front of you, and you feel the blood leaving your face as Jungkook has the nerve to tease her mouth with his tongue. As she has the nerve to let him in, their tongues meeting for a few seconds before Jungkook pulls away. He winks at her, smiling triumphantly, and she sits back, face so red she’d put a tomato to shame.

Jungkook slides his gaze to you, winking at you next, before leaning towards you. And though he has to be aware that everyone is carefully watching you, he says in your ear, “Had to make you jealous too.”

Yep. The arrogant asshole.

You push him, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off,” you grumble, and you meet Ria’s gaze as she looks at you way too excitedly for your own sake.

He laughs it off, sitting back in his spot, and then he grabs the bottle spinning it. Whether he meant it or not, it spins twice before stopping, and you stare down the neck of the bottle as it points towards you.

You think Ria is about to leap up, screaming, ‘I knew it!’ Especially as you just keep on staring at the neck of the bottle, refusing to turn your face towards Jungkook. You see his smirk in the periphery of your vision. See the way he wets his lips, far too ready to kiss you dumb like only he knows how to do.

“What are you waiting for?” Nabi asks from beside you, nudging you with an elbow.

You take a deep breath, chuckling. “Let’s pray Taehyung never learns about this,” you say, referencing everything that your friends don’t know, and then you turn towards Jungkook.

Your comment has made him pensive. He’s lost the smirk, and his eyes scan your face, lingering on your lips for far longer than necessary. It makes you blush, makes you feel vulnerable and naked, and you try to find a spark of defiance in you.

All you find is his gravity, and you lean towards him.

He meets you halfway – with none of the fire he had for your friend. Instead, his soft, pink lips move against yours, slowly, and your eyes flutter shut as you instinctively cup his cheek. It feels like time stretches, endlessly. Your mouths dance together, like suddenly eternity found you in its hold.

When Jungkook’s tongue teases your bottom lip, you let him in, circling it with your own tongue. You hear the cheers now – they’re distant, like they are on the other side of a veil, in an entirely different universe. You ignore them, focusing on the man next to you, kissing you.

You feel Jungkook’s hand as it finds your thigh. He holds you, thumb digging slightly into your skin, and memories of your bodies entwined flash behind your eyelids. So much so that you sigh in the kiss, rhythm suddenly accelerating. It grows frantic, though still just as languid. For a moment, you’d wish for your friends to disappear, to leave you alone with Jungkook but…

“Damn, get a room!” Ria yells, then bursts out laughing with the rest of the friend group.

You startle, pulling away from Jungkook. Your gazes meet, both wide as if scared, as if you just crossed a line. Though you reckon you’ve crossed the line a while ago already.

You can’t focus on the game after that. You spin and kiss Ria, who then kisses Yoongi. You lose track after that, and thankfully the bottle doesn’t point towards you or Jungkook again. All you can do as your friends exchange kisses and saliva is try to tame your wild heart, but it’s started a race you are bound to lose – a race to the man by your side.

You wonder how Jungkook is feeling. If he, too, feels deeply affected by that kiss. If it rendered his mind a blank canvas like yours, erasing thoughts and memories, leaving just him, him, him.

You’re going insane. You’re going insane for someone you can’t have, for someone who you told to never kiss you again, not even twenty-four hours ago. But his lips and his tongue are drugs you’re starting to like too much – they are an addiction waiting to ensnare you in its web.

You only come back to your senses when, bored, your friends decide to stop the game in favour of watching some dumb movie and making a drinking game out of it. You participate in the drinking game, hoping that it will numb the beating of your heart, but it does little to no good.

Perhaps because Jungkook sits next to you, and you’re all too aware of every spot where your bodies touch. And you wonder – in a universe where he isn’t your brother’s best friend, would you be leaning in his side? Would you let yourself be ensnared, even though his reputation follows him like smoke follows the fire?

You think about what Colton said. You think about Shelly, and about all the other girls Jungkook has had under him. It finally douses the beating of your heart, fire returning to a slumbering ocean, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time since the bottle landed on you and he kissed you.

The second movie the group decided to watch after that drinking game is almost over. Ria fell asleep with her head on Seokjin’s shoulder, who sits with a straight-back, his cheeks turning pink when you notice their position. Hoseok and Yoongi sit next to each other on the couch – pinkies subtly linked, which brings a soft smile to your lips. Jungkook is next to you, though his deep breathing and soft snores tell you enough about what state he currently is in.

You don’t know how you missed it. But Namjoon and Nabi aren’t in the living room anymore. You wonder where they went off to, and the answer comes by itself as they walk back in, clothes wrinkled and hair undone, both of them sporting small, satisfied smiles.

You can’t resist. You pull your phone out, heading to the group chat you have with Ria and Nabi.

[2:43 am] You: I hope you guys didn’t fuck in my bed

You snort to yourself before turning off your phone, and the movie comes to an end a few minutes later, rousing those that had fallen asleep. Jungkook offers you a sleepy smile, and your heart skips a beat. So you look away, think about Colton and Shelly, and the emotion passes.

“I guess we should be going,” Hoseok says as everyone stretches.

Everyone agrees with that statement, and you walk your friends to the door. You make round eyes at Nabi, motioning towards Namjoon, and the shade of red she turns to is enough to let you know that she and Namjoon really did it. You stifle your laugh as you hug her, and then Ria comes to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“I’m so tired,” she whines. “Can I sleep over?”

You don’t know why. But your eyes go to Jungkook, who’s watching the interaction unfold from where he’s leaning against the wall. Your throat goes dry, and you look away from him, telling your friend, “Nabi will get you home.”

Nabi nods, “Come, baby. Your bed awaits you.”

Ria grumbles, but she follows Nabi, and slowly everyone filters out of your apartment.

Everyone but you and the guy you’re starting to think you should maybe avoid.

“So,” Jungkook lets out, and he laughs lightly. “Tonight was fun. I didn’t know your friends were so chill.”

You lean against the door. The cold from outside lingers, but the way Jungkook is looking at you is warm, hot.

“They are,” you reply.

“I should hang with you guys more often.”

You gulp as he tilts his head to the side, toying with his piercings. “What would Taehyung say?” you ask.

“Who cares what Taehyung says? I’m allowed to have other friends.”

“Right.”

Jungkook’s tongue pokes at his cheek and then he sighs. “Are you upset about the kiss?”

You shake your head no, shrugging your shoulders. “It was just for the game.”

Though, was it really just for the game?

“Right,” he echoes. He changes tactics, chuckling lightly. “Your friend Ria wants me. She told me while we were in the kitchen.”

“I think you lost your spot to Jin,” you quickly reply, and he doesn’t miss the undertone of jealousy in your voice.

“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Nabi.”

“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Jin.”

He wets his lips. “Oh, peach. I loved watching you kiss him, looking all guilty after.” Another chuckle. “You think you can fool me?”

“You’re an asshole.” You don’t mean the insult. Or maybe you do. Maybe some part of you thinks about Taehyung, about what Colton has said. Because you want him to be an asshole – a red flag, so easily avoidable. You want him to be easily pushed away, like the emotions you thought you pushed away earlier.

Though maybe you’ve just been fooling yourself.

You don’t want Jungkook taking a step towards you, stopping where he’s now standing a couple of steps in front of you. You don’t want the conflict unfolding in his big, doe eyes. You don’t want any of it. You just want peace, you want to protect a heart that’s barely healed from Sam Hwang’s passage in your life.

You want peace so much that you walk closer to him as well, stopping close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him.

“I’m an asshole?” Jungkook repeats, making it sound like a question.

You nod. “Yeah. Because we shouldn’t kiss again. Because you said that it meant nothing, that we have to pretend nothing happened.”

He’s so still in front of you you’d imagine he was turned to stone.

But yes, here’s why your heart has been going crazy. You’re trying to blame it on Colton, on Taehyung and on everybody else. But the fault has always been Jungkook’s. The fault was the way he made you feel, and how just a day later he decided that it wasn’t enough, that it wasn’t what he wanted. Though maybe that was you, and your constant fear of Taehyung learning about you and Jungkook despite the ocean between you.

“But it meant nothing, right?” Jungkook challenges, dark eyes searching for the truth in yours. “Is that why I haven’t been able to fuck anyone else since then?”

Your mind empties out.

“Jungkook…”

“Is that why I kind of want to just say fuck it and tell your brother?” His hand reaches between you, and he runs a hesitant finger on your jawline. “Is that why we’re oh so pretending that nothing happened when you’re the only thing I look at when we’re in the same room?”

“You wanted this,” you remind him.

“You wanted Taehyung to never know, peach,” he counters. “I’ve been wanting you since the first time I saw you.”

You don’t know what to make of this revelation. You don’t even know if you believe him, or if Jungkook is just too good at spinning words into beautiful lies countless hearts have wanted to believe in, only to end up broken.

You do want to believe him. You do want to believe that every time he’s called you peach, he meant something more. That that first kiss in the kitchen, during a power outage that’s brought you far too close for comfort, meant something to him the way that it meant something to you as well.

“Then why the fuck do I still see you flirting left and right?” you ask.

His jaw clenches. “This is about what Colton said, isn’t it?”

It is, and it isn’t. “Jungkook, I saw you at that bar. I saw you tonight with Ria. It is what you are.”

“What I am?” he repeats, chuckling bitterly. “Is your opinion really so low of me, peach?” He leans towards you, and you tilt your head to the side, letting him run his soft lips up the side of your neck.

Your breath hitches in your throat. “I’ve heard you fucking girls in this apartment.”

“And I’ve heard you touching yourself at the same time,” Jungkook whispers right in the shell of your ear. “I’ve heard you and that Hobi dude too.”

His hand finds your waist, and he holds you in place as you say, “I think we never should have fucked.”

He leans his forehead against yours. “Why?”

You offer him the truth, in all its vulnerability.

“Because there is no going back now.”

He laughs, yet it sounds void of joy. “And is that a bad thing?”

“You will just hurt me.”

“Not planning on it.”

You wonder if his heart is beating just as loudly as yours, or if this is just an act to him. It’s hard to tell, and your soul vibrates on a frequency you can’t ignore anymore. It takes everything in you and builds you anew, destroys all the restraints you’ve been trying to have in order to protect yourself.

The spider caught you in its web, and you have no escaping now.

“You can’t say that,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as he finds the other side of your waist, and he pulls you closer.

“Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?”

Because you’ve never given me a reason to believe otherwise, you want to reply, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. Not when his thumbs are tracing idle shapes on your waist, speaking in a language you think your body already knows.

“Because it’s the only way that I don’t end up getting hurt,” you whisper in a voice smaller than the atoms holding you together. “When you believe the worst of people, they never disappoint you.”

Jungkook moves one of his hands to your back, and then it glides up until he’s lost it in the hair at the back of your head. “But if you don’t risk anything, you don’t get anything,” he says.

He’s right, and you almost purr as he gently massages your scalp. “I risked once, and it wasn’t worth it.”

“That asshole didn’t know how to handle you, peach,” Jungkook affirms, softly. “And trust me when I say this – he will regret it later.”

Sam Hwang comes to the forefront of your mind. You remember the summer, remember the easy smiles and the dancing and the driving with the windows down. You remember it all, and then you remember the date yesterday, and the way the dream he’d once been had curdled like milk left outside of the refrigerator for too long.

Sam was poison shaped like the prettiest flower. His lies were your undoing – has Jungkook ever lied to you?

You don’t think he has. He’s always been crudely honest, playful in his arrogance. But he’s never once lied to you, or at least you want to believe so.

“And do you know?” you ask, murmuring the words so close to his lips you feel them move when his mouth slightly falls open.

Time stops, the whole entire world holding its breath. Your arms are around his neck now – you don’t remember moving at all – and you tighten your hold, just a little bit. As if you think he’ll walk away now, flick your nose and tell you that this is all just a joke.

That he’s played your heart better than anyone before, and that you can laugh about it now.

“Let me show you,” he answers instead, and you think you hear thunder in the distance.

Or maybe that’s your heart, as Jungkook ravishes your lips in a languid kiss that makes you melt into his touch. His large hand finds the small of your back, pushing you into his strong body. You mold yourself to him, arch your back as his feathery soft lips move against yours, his piercings pushing into your lower lips.

He tastes like addiction, like you’ll never be able to kiss someone else. And right now, you don’t think you’ll ever want to. Because you’ve never been kissed the way that Jungkook kisses you. Like he’s branding himself on you, burning his name in your heart so that his flames will keep you warm, always.

He turns you around, pushing you into the wall. A second later he makes you jump so that he can wrap your legs against his waist, and though his lips have momentarily disconnected from yours, he’s quick to kiss you again, to push his tongue in your mouth. You suck on it, and he retaliates by grinding into you.

He’s already hard. He’s already fucking hard and you’ll go insane.

“Jungkook,” you breathe the second he pulls away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He stops at the neckline of your shirt, lips ghosting as he moves back up.

“Do you know how mad you made me when you said you wanted to keep things between us?” he whispers, and he teases your earlobe with his teeth. “When you said that Taehyung doesn’t need to know everything?”

Your head is too clouded with thoughts of him, of what you know is about to happen, so you barely remember. You thought he was the one who wanted to pretend like nothing happened, but then again, he did say that that was you.

You’re confused, and you don’t have time to revisit the past before he sucks on the skin of your neck, hard enough to leave a hickey behind. You run your hands through his hair, and pull at the longer strands on top until his mouth finds yours again.

“I’ll tell him,” Jungkook adds when he pulls away from the kiss. “I don’t care what he says, I’ve been wanting you so bad.”

“Kook…” you trail off, and he grinds into you, before pulling away from the wall to carry you towards his room.

“I’m serious,” he says in your ear, and he does sound more serious than he’s ever been with you. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You nuzzle your face in his neck, peck the mole you find there. “Can we just figure shit out between us before we tell him?”

You think you feel Jungkook stiffen, but it might just be because one of his hands let go of you so that he can open the door to his room.

“Sure,” Jungkook whispers. “Just let me know when I should speak to him and I will.”

You appreciate it, but you reckon you should be the one to break the news to your brother. You have a lot more chance to be able to handle the tantrum he’ll likely throw, but you don’t want to think about that right now.

You just want to think about Jungkook, about the way he’s gently putting you down on the edge of his bed, amidst the mess of blankets.

And then he’s taking off his shirt, throwing it to the side, and your mind eddies out.

He’s beautiful. You’ve known this, you’ve seen him before, but there’s something about him that’s different right now. Maybe it’s the neon light coming from the street outside. Or maybe it’s just because the fear that’s been plaguing you finally disappeared, and the relief of knowing he wants you too overpowers everything, painting him with all the beauty he beholds.

And he beholds far too much for your frail heart to endure. Yet you still gaze at him, admire all the strong planes of his body as he fishes his cell phone from the pocket of his pants to turn on the LED lights in his room. They shine red, and he winks at you before strutting to the window so that he can pull the curtains shut.

“Red lights?” you tease.

“It’s to set the ambiance,” he says confidently as he walks back towards you.

“You’re an idiot.” It’s said affectionately, with a twinkle in your eyes that you know he doesn’t miss. Because he grins, that bunny grin that does funny things to your insides, and then he stops in front of you.

He drops on his knees, his hands spreading your legs. You widen your gaze, but he’s already bending down, pressing a kiss to your clothed pussy.

“You’ll come on my tongue, mmh?”

Cheeks burning, all you can do is nod your head.

“Good girl.”

Jungkook makes quick work of getting you out of your pants, but he leaves your underwear on. He watches the wet spot where you’ve already soaked through, smirk curving the corner of his lips.

“Gosh, look at you,” he says. “You’re already so ready.”

He pushes your thong to the side so that he can see your glistening pussy. You know you’re wet – you feel your juices dripping out of you, and it only increases when Jungkook leans in, turning his head at the last second to kiss the inside of your thigh instead.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“Huh?” is all you’re able to let out.

He laughs, and he grins up at you. “You’re adorable.” He kisses your thigh again, and then his lips ghost on your clit. You try to move your thighs, but he’s firmly holding you against the bed, refraining any motion from you. “What do you want?” he repeats.

This time, you were ready for the question. “Your mouth,” you breathe out.

He hums, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. “Where?”

“Eat me out,” you say.

“That’s what you want?”

You nod.

“Then that’s what you’ll get.”

And then his lips close around your clit and he sucks hard, tongue flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You immediately grip at his hair, moaning softly, your eyes shutting as he moves from your clit to your entrance. His tongue pushes in, laps your juices, and all you can do is pull at his hair, as if that will keep you grounded.

As if you’re not already floating towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse.

“You like that?” he queries against your pussy, the movement of his lips making you shiver.

“Yes.”

He sucks on your clit again, eyes shutting in concentration as he switches to drawing circles around it, sending bolts of lightning up your spine. You moan, and you feel him smirk against you as he keeps going. As one of his hands hesitantly leaves your thigh to slide between your legs.

He teases your entrance with a finger, circling it in time with his ministrations on your clit. The breathy sound you let out is interrupted by a louder moan as his finger slips inside, immediately curving to find the right spot inside of you.

Jungkook shifts, pushing your leg on his shoulder so that he can reach around your frame, his hand resting on your belly. He pushes just enough for you to know that he wants you to lie down, and then he holds you there, the new angle making you see stars.

“How can you-“ It breaks into a moan. “Be so good?” you conclude.

Jungkook laughs, pulling away to meet your gaze. “I’ve seen how you touch yourself,” he reminds you. “I’m just trying to reproduce what you did.”

Which makes no sense because he barely saw anything, but you’re too blissed out to question him. You just take the pleasure in, feeling it rise like the crescendo of a song.

You’ll come. It only grows more evident when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, and he fucks you like that, relentlessly. His tongue on your clit draws expert figures, and he mixes it with just enough sucking for you to not fall into oversensitive land. No, he keeps you at the edge, pushing you towards your orgasm so quickly you think you’ll explode.

And you do. The second you climax you let out a broken moan, your thighs closing around his face. That doesn’t deter him, and he milks your orgasm out of you, letting you crash into walls and walls of it, until you feel like you’re not even in your body anymore.

Only then does Jungkook sit back on his heels, your juice dripping from his chin. He doesn’t dry it yet – instead he climbs on top of you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips that tastes of you. And the kiss is savage, wild, with his tongue in your mouth and your hands pulling at his hair.

He grunts, pulling away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses on your neck as your hands move to his back, where you leave scratches behind.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Do that when I’m fucking you and you’ll make me come in no time.”

“Then take off your clothes,” you say through the haze. “I want you to fuck me.”

He obeys, standing up to take off his pants and boxers. His dick springs free, proud and tall, precum on the tip that looks far too inviting. So you sit up, hand grabbing the base of his cock, and Jungkook stills as you take him in your mouth, looking up at him.

His precum tastes salty on your tongue, and you lick him all clean before pulling away, jerking him off slowly.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I couldn’t help myself.”

He grabs your cheeks, bending down so that he can steal another languid kiss on your lips.

“Don’t apologize, peach,” he says as he straightens. “I’ve wanted to know what your mouth feels like on my dick for a really long time.”

So you dive in, wrapping your lips around his dick to suck on his tip. He bucks his hips, pushing deeper, and you hold the gag reflex in as he hits the back of your throat, immediately pulling out.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” you ask, and the line of drool that connected his dick to your mouth breaks.

“I didn’t mean to fuck your mouth,” he explains.

“What if I want you to?”

He just looks down at you with so much lust in his eyes that you think you’ll drown in it. To your dismay, he says, “Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll come before I can fuck your tight pussy if I fuck your mouth right now.”

Yet he doesn’t move right away, so you keep jerking him off, licking at his slit. “Do you always come so easily when you fuck girls?”

He doesn’t like what you say. Indeed, he pulls on your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back as he bends down.

“Open your mouth,” he orders.

You obey, far too pliable, and Jungkook spits in your mouth.

It takes you aback, but he doesn’t let you think about it before he pushes your head closer to his dick.

“Now you can suck my dick.”

You glance up at him as he lets go of your hair, gently brushing it as if to make sure he didn’t hurt you.

“Damn, Jungkook,” you let out.

He freezes, his lustful gaze turning apologetic. “Oh… wait, I’m sorry if-“

“No,” you interrupt. “That was hot.”

“Are you sure?”

Without breaking eye contact, you swirl your tongue around the tip of his dick, mixing his drool with yours that was already there. “Yes.”

And then you unleash yourself, taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. You hollow your cheeks, swallow around him, and then pull away so that you can lick from between his balls up to the tip of his cock. You apply pressure to his frenulum, teasing it for a little longer, and then you circle the head of his dick again, sucking on it.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses.

And he keeps on cursing as you keep going, the taste of his precum far too inebriating. You want more of it, you want all of it, and you give it to him, show him just how much you’ve wanted him too. Just how much you’ve always found him hot, how much you’ve always dreamed of choking on his dick when he bucks his hips again, and this time the gag reflex makes you choke.

You pull away with drool on your chin, teary-eyed as you look up at him.

“Listen,” he says. “If you keep going, I’ll come. I’m down if you are, but I really, really want to fuck you.”

“Put a condom on your fucking dick, JK,” you tell him. “I want you.”

You don’t have to say it twice. Jungkook walks to his nightstand, fishing a condom out of the drawer. He’s quick to rip the tinfoil package, pulling the condom out so that he can wrap it on his cock. You watch from where you’ve lied back down on the bed, fingers mindlessly drawing circles on your clit after you’ve taken your panties off.

“You’re so fucking desperate for me, peach,” Jungkook purrs. “You really are just a dirty slut for me.”

And then he’s climbing on the bed, pulling you up. He rids you of your shirt, and he curses under his breath at the sight of your lace bralette.

“You’re keeping this on,” he says, and you nod as he pushes you back down on the bed so that he can climb on top of you. “Stop me if it’s too much, okay?”

You blink once, not sure you heard right, and Jungkook bends to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You weren’t expecting it, and your heart melts in your chest, even as his tip nudges your entrance.

“You sure you want me?” he asks. “We can stop-“

“Jungkook, fuck me before I go insane.”

He smirks, and he pushes in unforgivingly, slamming his dick in to the hilt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mouth falls open, though no sound escapes your lips. Jungkook grunts, and his dick twitches inside of you, bringing back stars to your vision.

“How can you be so fucking tight?” he asks. “Am I not turning you on?”

“Oh, you are.” You shudder in delight at the feel of him inside of you.

He pulls almost all the way back, and then snaps his hips forward again. “You better not be fucking anyone else,” he says. “Your pussy is mine.”

A part of you wants to say your pussy is no one’s but yours, but Jungkook immediately starts pounding into you, so hard his headboard hits the wall repeatedly. Once, you would have been on the other side of the wall, thinking about him fucking some girl, but now he’s fucking you.

Now he’s fucking you, his large dick dragging on your walls so perfectly you understand his reputation. He’s good, far too good, and you know he’ll easily be able to get you to come again. Especially as he bends forward to hit a better angle, and your hands find his thighs so that you can mark him there.

“Peach,” he moans, and you’re surprised to hear the nickname in the heat of the action, yet it makes so much sense.

It makes so much sense for you and Jeon Jungkook, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You feel so good,” you cry out, and Jungkook slows down so that he can lower himself on top of you, his forearms framing your face.

He pecks your lips. “It’s because you take me so well.”

You moan as he increases his pace once more, jackhammering into you. It hurts a little, but there’s something so sinful about the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix that all you can do is beg for more, even though he’s already pounding into you.

He doesn’t disappoint, clearly understanding what you want. Indeed, Jungkook pulls out, flips you over, settling himself between your legs so that he can hit it from the back. He raises your hips, just enough so that he can align himself with your entrance, and then he’s fucking you again, the new angle so good your orgasm approaches you at light speed.

“I’ll come,” you warn him in a high-pitched sound.

“Yeah?” he grunts, and all you do is moan his name in reply, right as he reaches in front of you, fingers skillfully aiming for your clit.

The second he’s pressing circles on your clit you climax, vision turning fully white as he slows down inside of you, giving you a respite so that he can milk your orgasm out of you.

“That’s it, peach,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a growl. “You’re such a good fucking girl for me.”

The words barely register, yet they make your head swim with ecstasy, swim with desire for the man behind you, on top of you. And once he’s sure to have milked your orgasm, Jungkook resumes his unforgiving speed, and his headboard bangs in the wall so loud you wonder if it’ll break.

Jungkook breaks first, bending down as his high hits, and he grunts and moans, his dick twitching inside of you. You wrap one hand around his forearm closest to your face, your walls fluttering around his dick as he shakes, spurting his cum into the condom.

He comes for a long time, but eventually his high recedes, and all that’s left to be heard in the room is your heavy breathing mingling with his. He’s wet on top of you, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, yet you don’t want him to move.

You feel safe here, under him. Like his large frame will keep all atrocities of the world away from you.

Jungkook takes a deep breath and presses a kiss on your cheek. A tired smile grows on your lips, and it only gets bigger when he does it again, his lips lingering on your skin.

“That felt good?” he asks against you.

“Mmh,” you let out.

“Good.” He pauses, pressing another kiss on your cheek before straightening, returning to his previous kneeling position. He massages your ass, and you almost purr from how good it feels. His softening dick falls out of you, and you look at him over your shoulder.

He’s dishevelled, sinfully so. The top of his chest is red, and wet strands of hair cling to his forehead. Yet he’s more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him, and it makes your heart flutter in your ribcage.

“You look good,” you tell him, even though you didn’t mean to say the words aloud.

He takes it in stride, a grin growing on his lips. “Thanks peach.” And then his gaze falls to your ass, and he playfully slaps it. “So do you.”

You snort, rolling on your back as he moves off from on top of you. He discards the condom, tying a knot in it before throwing it in the trash can, and you watch as he carefully cleans himself with some tissues. You should probably do the same thing, but all you can do is watch, feeling content in the swimming bliss, in the red light and Jungkook’s company.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks.

You hum, nodding lazily. “I should.”

“I’ll come with you,” he offers, hand extended towards you.

You can’t say no, so you take a shower with him, revelling in the feel of his large hands as he washes your back. You offer him the same treatment, and he teases you about it, yet it’s lacking its usual bite. His tone only holds endearment now, and maybe that’s why you don’t get angry.

Maybe that’s why you both are a giggling and blushing mess when you step out of the shower, and he wraps you in a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dries his hair first, and then wraps the towel around his waist, uncaring that he’s dripping water all over the floor. It’s usually something that drives you crazy, but right now you really can’t bring yourself to care.

Instead, you brush your teeth beside him, shrieking when he pokes your ribs.

“Jungkook!”

He laughs. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t look apologetic at all, and so you narrow your gaze at him, before spitting the toothpaste in the sink, letting the water carry it away.

“I’ll get my revenge someday,” you warn him.

“I’m terrified,” he teases, and you roll your eyes as you put the toothbrush away, leaving him alone in the bathroom. He’s quick to follow behind you as you aim for your room.

You’re not surprised when he follows you in, looking far too at ease in your space.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Aren’t we sleeping together?”

You widen your gaze, letting out a small laugh. “You want to share a bed?”

He frowns, lips jutting out in a small pout. “Yeah?”

“You’re simping.”

His mouth falls open, and then he laughs, though it’s short-lived. His eyes darken, and he steps closer to you, one large hand wrapping around your throat. You gulp, and he tightens his grip, bending down so that he can steal a languid kiss on your lips. He tastes of mint, and you let out a breathy sound as he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue in your mouth.

“Then I’ll let you sleep alone, peach,” he says when he pulls away, his hand falling to his side.

He’s already in the hallway when you call behind him, “Wait!”

Jungkook stops, but he doesn’t turn to look at you. So you walk over to him, pulling on his arm.

“Stay?”

He slides his gaze to you, a smirk adorning his lips. “Look who’s simping now?”

You clench your jaw, yet all he does is flick your nose as he moves back into your room, plopping down on your bed.

“My mattress is more comfortable,” he comments.

You glare at him, though your expression softens when his eyes shift from the ceiling to you.

“Then do you want to sleep in your bed?”

“With you?” he asks. As you nod yes, he adds, “Absolutely.”

And that is how you find yourself in Jungkook’s bed, his inked arm wrapped around you as he holds you close to his chest. He turned off the LED lights, and his breathing is steady and deep behind you.

Your thoughts slide to Taehyung. To how he’d react if he saw you and Jungkook right now, all cuddled up in his best friend’s bed. You wonder, would he kill Jungkook or you first?

You reckon that that will be a bridge you’ll cross when you get to it. You don’t want to ruin what you might now have with Jungkook, not when getting to where you are tonight was such a hassle already.

A hassle, yes, but worth every step of the way. If only for Jungkook to tighten his arm around you, pressing a kiss on the back of your head.

“I’ve been thinking,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you let out as he doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds.

“Now I’ll allow you to call me crazy,” he adds, and you laugh, turning in his hold so that you can face him. His features are barely visible in the dim light filtering from behind the curtains, yet you’re pretty sure his eyes are soft as they meet yours. “But I want to go to New York with you.”

Your brows furrow. “To New York?” you press.

“My brother has an engagement party next weekend, and I’ve been dreading going.”

Now you’d say your heart just dropped to your ass because, is he really asking you to meet his family?

“You want me to go with you to your brother’s engagement party?” you let out.

He chuckles. “Yes.”

“But we’re not…” you trail off.

You’re not delusional enough to believe you’re suddenly dating Jeon Jungkook. Just because you both admitted your attraction to the other doesn’t mean that you have to dive head first into a relationship… right?

“No, we’re not,” he says as if sensing your unease. “My family sucks and I just… I’ve been dreading going, but I thought that it could be fun with you.”

You feel bad for him, for that vulnerable mention of his family, but you don’t want to push, so you say, “And what will you tell your family that I am?”

“Would you mind pretending to be my girlfriend?” he suggests. “Just for the weekend, so that you don’t get any wrong ideas.”

You roll your eyes, and he laughs, having probably seen the gesture. “What do I get in return?” you ask.

“My undying love and gratitude?” he teases, his bunny grin on display.

“Are you saying you love me, Jeon Jungkook?”

The silence is a little too long for comfort, and your heart races in your chest, awaiting his answer. Yet he only shrugs his shoulders, before saying, “You wish. So, is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s from next Friday to Sunday?” you enquire.

He nods, and you truly take the time to ponder. Because you don’t know if it’s a good idea. If it means just getting attached more when one day this is all bound to go up in flames.

Or maybe it won’t. Maybe Taehyung won’t be the overbearing asshole that you’ve known him to be your whole life, and maybe he’ll let you do whatever it is that you have to do with Jeon Jungkook. Maybe he’ll let you live what you have to live with Jungkook…

But then you think about Colton, you think about Lisa, about Shelly, Jungkook’s reputation once more haunting you. You’re not delusional enough to think you’ll be the one to change him.

Yet a weekend away, just the two of you… It sounds like heaven, though you’re aware it might just be hell disguised as a beautiful memory that will taunt you somewhere along the line.

College is meant to experience things though, right?

So you find yourself asking, “At what time do we leave?”

Prev | Chapter 7.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

gosh where are these two headed :') next chapter is v special to me and i'm really excited for you guys to read! But first, let me know what you thought of this chapter? did we like it?<3

#chasing cars ch 7 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswriters #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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mountkennedie · 4 months ago

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Late Nights

Edward Cullen x reader

Summary: you have a cozy night with edward

warnings: none

A.N. this quickly became one of my favorite fics ever written

"Edward?" You asked. Currently you splayed out horizontally on your bed on a cool fall day. The sweater you were wearing provided you an extra dose of comfort to the general energy of the room. Edward, your boyfriend, was laid parallel to you. His dark blue sweater matched yours. The color coordinating plaid fleece pajamas were also a nice touch on the pair of you. It was something cute you've always wanted to do, couple twinning. And Edward was willing to do whatever to make you happy.

"Yes?" He maintained a easy going smile while looking at you. You had been rereading A Wrinkle In Time. An easy read of course, but always put your mind at peace. Edward didn't have a book to read or really anything to pass time. He says he is perfectly content in your company, but you still wonder what he would be doing had you not been here. Probably pressing those same piano keys in infinite rhythms until disturbed.

"What is your favorite color?" A very innocent question. But what is the harm in that? The both of you have shared some crushing memories and experiences, you may as well know the mundane as well.

His smile grew and his eyebrows knitted. "Blue. Why do you ask?" He didn't have a genuine serious undertone behind the question. He was always trying to learn the way you were. Being unable to read your mind made you a puzzle he reveled in attempting to crack. Every time he would expect you to act in a certain way, you gave him a surprise in return.

"I was curious," you turn on your side and face him. Edward being Edward, he mirrors you. "You seem like a lover of blue. But I could also see a deep green. Like forest green," your voice was kept quiet. The wind looting the leaves can still be heard as you speak. You didn't need to speak so soft, your family was away for the night. You could scream for all that mattered, however keeping a small vocal presence felt appropriate. Anything louder than a calm word would be disturbing the peace of the environment.

His face pinched up for a moment, but then returned to his normal expression. "I fell out of love for green a long while ago. Blue is so rarely seen here, at least in the sky," he finished that quip with a cheesy smile. "Blue being rare has given itself a new place of importance," his eyes glanced down to your sweater then back into you, "in my heart."

Your bodies both hanged off different ends of the bed, luckily your heads were in the same placement. So when you lifted your hand to rest on his cheek, it wasn't a far reach. Your thumb brushed the cool skin, Edwards eyes never left yours for a moment. The golden iris' were filled with adoration. His hand came to rest on yours. The chill adding to the comfort he was already bestowing.

"What do you think mine is?" You whispered.

"Purple, for sure," he answered without even thinking. And of course he was right.

"Asking Alice counts as cheating," he leaned into your hand and chuckled. The kiss he left on the palm made you smile a little harder than you already had been.

"I didn't cheat," he spoke into your hand. "Everywhere we go shopping, your eyes are drawn to the same three colors. Green, black and purple, with a special affinity for purple. Oh and you wear a lot of purple in the pictures of you on your family's mantle."

"Am I that easy to read?" He pressed another kiss to your palm. He shook his head lightly at your comment.

"If only," he joked. After his joke the wind picked up outside, this time accompanied by a steady flow of rain. You sat up and looked at him, he copied you once again.

"If you ran home fast enough, how wet would you be? Would you even get wet?" He listened to your questions while helping fix your hair that had flattened due to laying down.

"Well I would get wet regardless. Probably not too bad but definitely damp." He finished his work and pulled you close to him so your entire body faced him. "And is this your way of kicking me out?" He chuckled again at his smart remark.

"It is very thoughtful that you worry on the safety of a hundred year old vampire." He placed a kiss to your eyelid, "I'd be sure not to run too fast. And I am fully comfortable staying in for the night. But," his voice matched your previous tone, "you must sleep tonight. I want 8 full hours."

"No you are staying." You threw your arms over his shoulders, your faces a few inches apart. "I don't want you outside, especially running in this weather. The roads are slippery," your tone changed to one more serious.

"I was going to sleep!" you argued. "...once I finished the next chapter of my book," you hoped the small smile you sent him would win him over.

"Of the book you've reread numerous times?" You didn't respond, only looked at him and shrugged. "Fine," he always gave in to you. "At least let me read it to you."

You smiled and got comfortable under your covers. You pulled back your comforter for him to join you underneath. He smiled and shook his head. But still wanting to do whatever makes you happy, climbed in. You clung onto his arm, he responded by kissing your head. You were convinced he read the book in a soft, quiet voice on purpose. Because no matter how strong your will to finish the chapter, you still were whisked away into sleep.

#edward x reader #edward cullen fanfiction #edward cullen fanfic #edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #twilight x reader #anakin fluff #edward cullen fic #edward cullen fluff #twilight fluff #twilight #mountkennedie

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simpingsavant · 1 year ago

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Late Night

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3

Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.

Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.

The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.

“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.

The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.

You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.

Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.

You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.

Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.

From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being.

Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips.

Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.

For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?

Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.

In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.

So far, you only got:

“Hi.”

“How’s your night going?”

“Good, and you?”

“Fine. Do you want a bag?”

“No, I have my backpack.”

“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”

Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.

“Have a good one.”

“You too.”

His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.

During your third month, that reason finally came.

He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”

“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.

“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.

“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.

“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”

“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”

“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.

“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.

He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”

“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.

Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.

“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.

“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”

He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.

“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”

“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.

You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.

You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.

“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”

You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.

“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”

“What’s at five?”

“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”

“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.

Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.

The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.

You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.

Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.

“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.

“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”

“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”

“Yeah?”

“Interesting.”

The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”

Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”

“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.

“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”

“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”

“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”

“Don’t say that stuff.”

“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”

You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?

“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.

“Yes, actually—”

You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.

Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?

After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.

“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.

The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.

“I finally finished with inventory.”

He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.

12:56

“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?”

“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”

“For sure. See you tomorrow.”

“Later,” Michael says.

He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.

You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.

You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.

You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.

This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.

His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.

“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.

“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.

“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”

“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”

“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”

“Is this your final year?”

“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”

There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.

You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.

“Are you still working here over the summer?”

“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.

God, you wanted him so bad.

“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”

“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”

His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.

“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.

“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”

With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.

The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.

“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.

“Oh, right.”

Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.

“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.

“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”

You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.”

Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.

You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.

They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.

“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”

“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”

“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.

“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”

“Damn, sounds like an ass.”

“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”

“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.

The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.

“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”

“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.

Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.

He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.

When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.

“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.

Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.

“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.

“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.

“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.

God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.

“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.

After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.

As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?

“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.

“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”

“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”

“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.

“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”

“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”

You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.

You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.

“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.

You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.

You can deal with this on your own just fine.

The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.

“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.

“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”

You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”

“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.

You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”

“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”

You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.

“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”

Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.

Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.

“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.

With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.

“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”

The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.

“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.

“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”

“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”

“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”

“I was staying safe,” You defend.

“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”

“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.

“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”

“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.

“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.

His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.

“How often does this happen?”

“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”

Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”

Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.

“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.

2:21

“Damn, that’s a long time.”

“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”

When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.

“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”

“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”

“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.

The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.

“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”

“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.

You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.

“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”

“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.

“Your pick, I guess."

You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.

“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.

“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.

When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about.

“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.

“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”

“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”

“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”

A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”

Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”

“What?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.

“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”

Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”

“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”

The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”

“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”

You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.

“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.

“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”

“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”

“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”

Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”

“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”

You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”

“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”

“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”

Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”

You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.

“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.

“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.

“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”

“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”

“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”

“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”

“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”

“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”

“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”

#smosh #smosh games #smosh fanfic #smosh fanfiction #spencer agnew #spencer x reader #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew fanfic #spencer agnew fanfiction #spencer agnew imagine

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cheapshrimpysheep · 6 days ago

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2 Hot Chocolates & a Fortune Cookie

SUMMARY: “Never forget to tell people how much you love them. They may not know.” is what is written on the little piece of paper in your fortune cookie. But maybe the boy who gave you the cookie feels that these two phases applies to him too.

CHARACTERS: Deuce Spade / Kalim Al-Asim

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Kiss

WARNING: Spoilers from "Sam's New Year Sale"

WORD COUNT: An average of 1.180 words per character.

COMMENTS: I like to write things based on the cards and I wanted to write something with the New Year's cards but I never thought of anything good enough. Until I reread the story looking for an idea and here it is.

I hope you all enjoy 🥠 And Happy New Year! 🎉

About the currency in Twisted Wonderland: From what I understand, on the JP server the Madols would be the equivalent of Japanese Yen while on the ENG server the Thaumarks would be the equivalent of US dollars. Which personally makes it easier for me to tell whether something is expensive or not in this world.

P.S.: In the second Sam's New Year Sale event, Vil is the one who says that the Mystery Bags cost 40 Thaumarks.

CONTEXT: You even thought about buying one of Sam's mystery bags, but when you saw all the commotion that there was every day in that store, plus the fact that the bags cost 40 Thaumarks (and it's not like you could afford to spend that much on a simple bag considering the money Crowley gives you), you ended up giving up on the idea and not even going to Sam's store to say hi to Deuce and Kalim.

It was evening and you were in the lounge of Ramshackle Dorm when you heard someone knocking on the door. You open it and see Deuce still in his New Year's Attire.

“Good evening, (Y/N). Sorry to show up so late, but I wanted to give you one of these.” He hands you one of Sam's mystery bags. “I bought one and saved it for you. You never went to the store, did you? Neither Kalim nor I saw you. I thought maybe you were too busy or couldn't make it because it was always full. But I thought you might like to receive one. ...Hm? Oh, don't worry, you don't have to pay me back. It can be a New Year's gift for you. Open it! I'm curious to see what you got.”

You thank him, take the bag and open it. You take out a large box that says ‘Hot Chocolate Kit’. In the box there is a bag of mini marshmallows, a packet of chocolate powder, a bag of cookies and two edible spoons.

“Did you like it? I'm glad. Since it’s random, people often receive things that have nothing to do with their tastes. But who wouldn't like a hot chocolate in this cold?”

You put that box down on the entrance table and take out a second box which is a set of matching winter themed mugs. You suggest to Deuce to use those new mugs with you and taste that hot chocolate together.

“I would love to!” He accepts with a smile. “I'll help you prepare it. I hope we can make a third mug for Grim too, otherwise he'll be mad at us.”

But you see something else inside the bag, it looks like shiny paper. You put the box with the mugs on the entrance table too, put your hand back inside the bag and take out a golden ticket.

“It can't be!” Deuce is shocked! “It’s an Amazing Ticket! So they really are true!” He is very happy and excited for you. “You don't know what it is? The students were crazy about Sam's mystery bags because of this. From what Jamil-senpai told us these are tickets you can trade for any one thing in the Mystery Shop. And there's no price limit. You can trade it for literally anything in the store! This is the first time I've seen one. You're so lucky! That’s awesome!”

You feel a little guilty because it was Deuce who paid the 40 Thaumarks for that bag. So you try to give him that ticket.

“What? No! The ticket is yours. I gave you the bag as a gift. I made enough money from this gig to buy what I wanted, don't worry. If you were lucky enough to get it, it means you deserve it. Really, keep it and buy whatever you want.” He gives you an encouraging smile. “Oh! One more thing.” He takes a small bag out of his pocket and takes out a fortune cookie and gives it to you. “Don't worry, these were free to any customer in the store.”

You take the cookie, break it in half, take out the paper inside, give one half to Deuce and keep the other for yourself.

“Never forget to tell people how much you love them.” You read the message on the paper. “They may not know.”

Deuce chokes on the cookie but quickly recovers.

“Y-yeah, I'm fine. Sorry.” He chuckles awkwardly.

You jokingly ask if he forgot to tell his mother that and he laughs awkwardly again.

“Ha ha, no, I always end my calls telling her I love her." He gets a little embarrassed by this statement, but he continues. "W-what about you?”

You say making Grim's favorite dishes is an ‘I love you’ enough for him. Deuce laughs with you and suggests that the two of you go make the hot chocolates. Even if you seem as flustered as he is, he's too oblivious to notice these things.

He thinks about that message a lot while he prepares the hot chocolate with you in the kitchen, to the point of getting distracted from time to time. When you're already putting the marshmallows on top of the hot chocolate, you make a heart with them and give the mug to Deuce. He blushes slightly when he sees the marshmallows heart, but maybe it was the incentive he needed.

“Hum... (Y/N)...” Deuce starts saying, a little nervous, but then he takes a quick and deep breath and looks at you with renewed courage. “I was thinking about the phrase in your fortune cookie and...” He looks away to the hot chocolate you gave him. “I know I always call you buddy and stuff like that but...” He starts blushing again. “The truth is... I think... I like you as more than a friend.”

He won't be able to say much more than this, it's all still very new to him. So, you are the one who takes the next step and tells him, just as the cookie advised you, how much you like/love him. He looks back at you, surprised and with a sparkle in his eyes.

Now knowing that you feel the same way about him, he no longer needs to hold back and attacks you with a hug that lifts your feet off the ground while kissing your cheek.

He puts you back on the ground but continues to hug you. He doesn't have the courage to kiss you on the lips even if he wants to. But if you do it, he'll try to reciprocate with the most affectionate kiss he can muster.

After that, you two will go to the lounge with your hot chocolates. Grim will start complaining that you didn't make him one and Deuce will reveal a third mug of hot chocolate for him.

While Grim burns his tongue because he tried to drink the still-scalding chocolate right away, you and Deuce sit on the couch together with one of his arms around you.

“Happy New Year, (Y/N).” He wishes you with one more kiss.

It was evening and you were in the lounge of Ramshackle Dorm when you heard someone knocking on the door. You open it and see Kalim still in his New Year's Attire.

“HI (Y/N)!” Kalim greets you with his huge smile. “Happy New Year!” He reaches out and hands you one of Sam's mystery bags. “I didn't see you at the store, so I thought maybe you didn't want to get in the meddle of all that crowd. These have been some really crazy days. Ah hah. That's why I bought a mystery bag for you. Here! I'm so curious to see what you've got!”

“Wow! So cool! You have everything you need to make hot chocolate. It tastes so good in winter. Did you like it?” You say yes. “That's great! I saw many students who were disappointed with the things they got. It's great to see that it was a nice surprise for you.”

You put that box down on the entryway table and take out a second box which is a set of matching winter themed mugs. You suggest to Kalim to use those new mugs with you and taste that hot chocolate together.

“Really?! I would love-!” His overly enthusiastic smile fades, giving way to a sad one. “I... would love to... but...”

“You cannot eat or drink anything that has not been approved by Jamil first.” You finish his sentence.

He gives you an apologetic smile.

“Yeah... But I can keep you company and help you prepare it if you want. I'm sure it's great.”

However, you have another idea. You pick up your phone and search for something while asking Kalim if Jmail knew he was there. He tells you yes, that he told Jamil that he just wanted to give you a New Year's gift before going to Scarabia. You find Jamil's contact and call him. He answers immediately.

“Did something happen to Kalim?!” It's the first thing you hear Jamil say.

You say no, that everything is okay, and tell him about the mystery bag and the hot chocolate to ask if you prepare it and taste it before Kalim he can drink it with you.

“Hmm... I don't know...” You hear Jamil's uncertain voice say. “It's not that I don't trust you. I know you would never hurt Kalim but...”

“No one needs to know.” You add.

There was silence for quite a while.

“*sigh* Okay. But only because it's you. And if this came in one of Sam's bags it could have gone to any student, which makes it difficult for it to be something directed at Kalim... Still, be careful you hear!”

You thank Jamil and consequently Kalim also shouts a ‘thank you’ to him. Kalim's sunny smile returns and he is now more excited than ever to make this hot chocolate with you.

But you see something else inside the bag, it looks like shiny paper. You put your hand back inside the bag and take out a golden ticket.

“WHAAAT?! IT CAN'T BE!” He sees you looking at him perplexed. “Sorry. But you got an Amazing Ticket! Deuce and I were wondering if they were even real. And now you got one! Hm? You don't know what they are? It seems that it was because of them that so many people were buying Sam's mystery bags. Jamil told us that these are tickets you can trade for any one thing in the Mystery Shop. And there's no price limit. You can trade it for literally anything in the store! Isn't it amazing?! You’re so lucky!”

You would feel guilty for being the one who got that ticket and not the person who paid 40 Thaumarks for the bag. But Kalim was filthy rich, there was no reason for you to feel bad.

“Oh! Speaking of luck, I almost forgot to give you this.” Kalim takes a small bag out of his pocket and takes out a fortune cookie to give to you. “Sam was offering them to all the customers in the store.”

You take the cookie, break it in half, take out the paper inside, give one half to Kalim and keep the other for yourself.

“Never forget to tell people how much you love them.” You read the message on the paper. “They may not know.”

“Aww. That's a really nice message.” Kalim says as he eats his half of the cookie. “I love you, (Y/N)!” He tells you smiling.

“Aw, I love you too, Kalim.” That's what you felt was the best response back.

He said it so naturally that it seemed like something he would say to any friend, like Jamil for example. So you kind of responded the same way, even though you may really meant it.

You and Kalim went to the kitchen to prepare hot chocolates. Kalim looked like a child with a new toy, he was so excited to do something like that with you. He commented that the cookies were cute, the mugs were pretty, asked how to make chocolate with that powder, read the instructions on the back of the box with you, etc.

He was very happy to see the hot chocolate made, and all that was left was to put the mini marshmallows on top. He made a heart with them and gave you the mug with a cute smile. You do the same for him and he is very happy with your gesture, but something seemed to be bothering him a little.

“Hey, (Y/N)... When you said you loved me back, did you mean it? Because I did!” He smiles at you, blushing a little. “You didn't realise that? Why not?”

You explain that since he is always very affectionate with everyone, it is difficult to realize when he is not just being nice or considering the other person just a good friend, or if it’s something more than that.

“Really?! Ow, I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to confuse you. Looks like your fortune cookie was right. Well, I need to fix that now!” He comes closer to you and holds your both hands with his warm ones, looks you in the eyes and smiles affectionately. “You are the best friend I have ever had. Every second with you makes me happier and more loved than I could ever imagine. I wish I could do the same for you, if you'd let me. I love you (Y/N).”

He's not afraid that you'll reject him. Will it hurt him? Sure, but the most important thing is that he was honest with you and you deserve to know that you're loved.

You confess that the feeling is mutual. He is so relieved and extremely happy to the point of hugging you and lifting you off the ground while doing a spin. He gives you all the kisses on the cheek he's ever wanted to give you and can't stop hugging you.

He doesn't want to go too fast so he lets you kiss him on the lips first if you're comfortable with that. And if you do, you will feel all his love and passion for you in response.

After that, you both go to the lounge and sit together on the sofa. Grim appears, attracted by the smell, and starts complaining that you didn't make him a hot chocolate too. Kalim starts to apologize but that's when you reveal a third mug of hot chocolate that Kalim hadn't even realized you had made. Grim thanks you and Kalim praises you.

While Grim burns his tongue because he tried to drink the still-scalding chocolate right away, Kalim puts one of his arms around you and starts imagining and talking about possible dates and that he should give you the best quality hot chocolate in Twisted Wonderland next time.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Deuce Spade #Deuce Spade x Reader #Kalim Al-Asim #Kalim Al-Asim x Reader

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meetmypointlessaddiction · 2 months ago

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anything for love (but I won't do that) | l.howlett

Summary: you wake Logan up real early in the morning and he isn't too happy but for you, he'll do anything

Warnings: none that I can think of

You were always on the go, Logan knew that when he started dating you. What he wasn’t prepared for was the constant early morning wake ups.

“Logan? You sleeping?” You whispered, knowing the man was a light sleeper.

“Mhm. Go back to bed, bub.” He grumbled and pulled you closer, resting his head on yours.

“Can’t. Brain won’t let me.” You complained, relaxing in his arms as he groaned.

“Close your eyes and shut up. That’s normally a good place to start.” That seems to get you to sleep again or so Logan thinks. The peace lasts for about ten minutes before you roll over in his arms to face him and press a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. “I love you but fuck off and go to sleep.”

“Your morning voice is hot. Should use it more often.” You said bluntly, running a finger over his beard as he opened one eye to glare at you. “What? You don’t like me complimenting you?” Logan just huffed and rubbed his eyes tiredly with the arm that wasn’t under my head.

“It is 5:30am. No. No I do not want compliments right now. I want you to turn your ass back around and let me cuddle you until it is an appropriate time to wake up. Understand?” Logan mumbled and you just looked at him before nodding when he raised one of his eyebrows, signalling that he expected an answer. You rolled back over to face away from him, letting him pull you closer as he buried his face in your neck and pressed gentle kisses there. “Just stay in til 7 bub, that’s early enough.”

“But Logannnn… brain needs something to do.” He huffed and let you get out of bed. “I’m gonna grab a book. That should keep my brain busy right?” Logan just grumbled back some kind of response and rolled on top of you when you got back in bed, his head resting on your stomach.

You rested the book on the top of his back, one hand holding it while the other fell to his head, running your fingers through his hair, only removing it to turn the page. The book kept you busy for a grand total of 4 minutes and 43 seconds (Logan was counting), before you realised that you had reread the same sentence 4 times and not taken any of it in. Now, you resorted to styling Logan’s horrendous bed head into his usual wolverine ears.

“Baby. Seriously what the fuck is wrong with you?” Logan looks up at you, half-annoyed, half-amused. He huffs and sits up, glaring at you through half lidded eyes. “Alright, I’m up. 5:37. What do you want to do?” He watched as you thought it over for a few seconds before smiling.

“Let’s go downstairs and make hot chocolate and watch a Christmas movie!” Logan was quick to cover your mouth with a stern look.

“Just because I didn’t kill your ass for getting me up early doesn’t mean everyone in the damn mansion will take too kindly to your yellin’. Just… let me get changed and we’ll go downstairs alright?” You nodded eagerly, pulling on your own slippers and dressing gown before standing at the bedroom door, waiting for Logan. “Alright, let’s go.”

You were snuggled up under fluffy blankets on the sofa while Logan made you a hot chocolate in the kitchen, grumbling about being “dragged out of bed” and then being “turned into a fuckin’ maid to make hot chocolate”.

“Bub? You want cream and marshmallows on your hot chocolate?” Logan listened out for your response and frowned when he didn’t hear one. He huffed a sigh of annoyance before storming into the living room and seeing you curled up in his shirt and your dressing, bundled up in fluffy blankets, snoring like crazy with drool dripping down your chin. “You have got to be fucking shittin’ me!” That was the day Logan realised he would do anything for love but never again would he entertain your claims of not being able to go back to sleep and he would certainly not be getting out of bed at 5:37am to make hot fucking chocolate.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please like a reblog to encourage others to read. If you have any requests don't be scared to ask in the comments or in an ask and I'll try my best to do them.

Dividers: @coolcatsgraphics

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fluff #logan x reader #hugh jackman #james logan howlett #logan wolverine #logan howlett fic #logan howlett x reader smut #lo #Spotify

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trustmypoison · 2 months ago

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Ruby

The three times Jihoon tries to confess through lyrics and the one where you finally get it.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none that I can think of, just some fluff

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reactions.

One

You punch in the code to the door like it’s an old habit, mostly because it is. Jihoon doesn’t turn to you right away and you know better than to distract him in the middle of something. You sit the takeout bags on the table and plop down on the couch in the corner. Your couch, to be exact. He doesn’t often have visitors just hang out in here with him while he’s working, but you’ve long insisted this might be the only way to see your best friend sometimes. You assume he agreed because a small sofa just appeared here one day along with a couple fuzzy blankets.

“Hey,” he finally greets. “What’s for dinner?”

“Is that all I’m good for?” You tease as he comes to sit next to you. “Just some Chinese take out from the place down the street. I hope that’s okay.”

Jihoon shrugs, digging in as soon as he can. “Doesn’t matter. I’m too starving to care.”

“How’s the song going?” You ask, not expecting much. He can be really hot and cold about sharing his stuff with you before he feels like it’s perfect, so sometimes a non-committal ‘okay’ is all you get.

Today must be a good day, because he’s gesturing for the both of you to move to the desk. “It’s missing something and I can’t quite put a finger on what.” He hits a few buttons and lets you listen. Everything about it has you smiling, much like it always does.

You can’t help but tease him when the song ends and he asks what you think. “Jihoon, are you in love?” It’s not a new jab and he shoves you by the shoulder hard, making you laugh. “I’m kidding. Let me hear the chorus again.” He rolls it back and replays it for you. You recommend a few tweaks and when he makes them and replays the part, he sighs in relief.

“Are we done for the day now?” You chuckle, and it turns to a full blown laugh when he scoffs.

“Do you know how long it takes to prepare an album, Y/N? I hope you brought some entertainment.”

“You think this is my first day being your friend? Please,” you roll your eyes, pointing to the backpack you brought with you. “You’re stuck with me.”

You know he’d send you away if he didn’t like that. He lets you stay until you’re barely keeping your eyes open before he finally packs his things up and drives you home.

Two

A red notebook lands in your lap. It’s unfamiliar, only because the last one Jihoon handed you was blue. “Ran out of room?” You say as he spins back around in his chair.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Read the last entry, nothing else.” You do. You’d never overstep how much he’s willing to share, so you’re careful not to linger on pages that you aren’t invited to look at.

“What am I looking for?” You ask, skimming the page. It’s chaotic, notes in the margins, lines crossing out certain things that he’s rejected. Some writing is squished between lines and you have to squint to read it.

“It’s not flowing in my mind the way I want it to. I want a second opinion.”

Like you’d ever turn down that opportunity. You pull out a pencil, because you’d never permanently mark up these ideas. What you think about it is only a suggestion - one that can be erased. You make some notes, rereading, trying to grasp the vision that he has for the song. You aren’t a musician but you do have a good idea of how his mind works.

When you hand it back, he doesn’t look at your notes right away, pinning you with a look. “Well?”

“Romantic as ever. One of these days you’ll make such a sweet boyfriend.”

He snorts, skimming through what you’ve marked up. “Yeah, right. Explain to me what you did here.”

You plop into the seat next to him. You’re touched that he involves you in his work like this. That he’s willing to hear what you think when you’re so far from being an expert. He’s never shot down your ideas, even if he doesn’t end up using all of them. He still wants it to feel like ‘his’.

Today’s a good day and most of the pencil marks stay in place. He even teases you about giving you some song writing credits. He knows you’d never accept them, but he likes seeing both his and your marks on the page working together.

Three

Today is not a good day. Due to some unforeseen circumstances, they’ve lost some work and have had to re-record some parts. You’re surprised when you arrive to his studio and it’s packed. You fade into the corner as to not be in the way. You watch Jihoon obsessively save copies of files in various spots and when everyone else wishes you both good night to go home, you give him a minute to collect himself.

“How can I help?” You finally say. You watch his shoulders tense and it makes you sad. “Would you like me to go? Give you some space to work?” He shakes his head and you finally approach him, sitting next to him. You rub his back lightly. “What do you have left to do?”

“Rearrange everything so someone can look at it tomorrow. It’s not usually my specialty, but I have to have something to give them to work with.” He looks like he might pull his hair out so you gently turn his chair.

“Come on,” you say, opening your arms to him. You know he’s not the most physically affectionate person, but it won’t stop you from offering some comfort. To your surprise, he barely hesitates, arms coming around you too. When you feel like he’s lost some of the tension in his body, you let go. “Get started. I’ll go make some coffee.”

You miss the way he turns to watch you leave. He doesn’t know how to say thank you for your presence on days like today.

Four

The comeback is over and so are the promotions for it. It’s been many, many weeks since you’ve seen your best friend, and this time, it’s amazingly not at his work. He lets himself into your apartment and plops down on the couch next to you. You’ve planned a lazy day of just lying around and relaxing. You’ve sworn off work as a thing to so much as discuss today, so you glare at him when see the flash of a red notebook come out of his backpack.

“Lee Jihoon, I told you no work today,” you admonish.

He doesn’t listen to you. He never does. “Y/N, I may not show up to work every single day, but I’m probably going to write every single day.”

He’s right, of course. Sometimes it just pours out of him into these notebooks, like the one he’s handing you. “What am I looking for?” You ask with a huff.

“Last entry,” he says. It’s almost always the last entry, but you don’t want to go blindly flipping through his private thoughts. You find it and this sheet is actually pretty clean, with very little notes in the margins or lines crossed out. You can’t help but smile, just like you always do when he shares something like this with you.

“One of these days you’ll tell me who these songs are about,” you muse.

He groans and the sound surprises you. He usually rolls his eyes and asks what you think, but this time, he looks like he’s almost in pain. “I’m in love with an idiot,” he mumbles, hand rubbing down his face.

“That’s no way to talk about the love of your life!” You cry out. “You write all of these sweet songs for her and you call her an idiot?”

“I’m talking about you, Y/N. You’re the idiot.”

Your mouth pops open. “Oh.”

He rolls his eyes, snatching back the notebook, tossing it onto your coffee table. “They’ve always been about you, every single notebook over the years. You can’t be that dense.”

You barely hear the insult because you’re thinking of all the various notebooks he’s handed you over the years, only small portions of which he’s let you read. “All of them?” You whisper.

He sighs. “I’m sorry.”

You pout at him, not that he’s looking at you. He’s leaning back into the couch, arms crossed over his chest. You understand why he’s apologizing, but there’s really no need. “You didn’t ask me what I think of the lyrics.”

He hesitates, glancing out of the corner of his eye at you. Finally, he clears his throat. “What did you think of the lyrics?”

You lean forward, pressing a light, lingering kiss to his lips. You hear his breath catch and the sound is just as sweet as the contents of all his notebooks. “I loved it, just like every other page you’ve ever let me read.”

“I’ll bring over the rest tomorrow. They’re all about you anyway.” He says it so simply that you can’t help but fling your arms around him. He calls you an idiot again but he’s laughing regardless.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #woozi #woozi x reader #lee jihoon

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wildrangers · 3 months ago

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Book Lovers // Quinn Hughes

Word Count: 5K

Summary: Quinn x fem OC author

Content: prolonged meet cute, flirty banter, fluff. Truly, I saw the clip of Quinn sharing he's a reader and knew I had to write something based on that.

Quinn took a deep, contented breath as he perused the shelves before him. He had a rare day off and was doing one of his favorite fall activities: book shopping.

Normally, he just went to Chapters or Barnes, depending on what country he was in, but he’d decided to explore a new place. He’d been discussing books with Lauren, the new social media manager, and she’d ranted about how they and Amazon were “destroying local markets and harming author profits.” Most of her argument had gone over his head but he took away enough, so here he was at Thomas’ Tomes–the closest locally-owned book shop to his apartment. He figured that was as good a place to start as any and it certainly didn’t hurt that it was a block from his favorite coffee place.

Which is how he found himself, pumpkin spiced latte in hand, soaking in the relaxing energy of the cozy shop. He’d already selected a few historical fiction novels and was scanning the mystery section he’d just entered. He pulled his phone out, scanning his notes app for the title Lauren had recommended. She’d said it was pretty gruesome but he figured he could handle it…probably.

“Can I help you?” a voice nearby asked, startling him. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Are you sure a mystery book is a good idea?”

His gaze rose to meet warm, golden brown eyes filled with amusement. “What do you mean?”

“It’s broad daylight in a public setting and you almost dropped your PSL because I greeted you.”

“You didn’t scare me, I was just in my own world” he argued, but felt his cheeks pinkening. She really had set off a fight or flight response just by doing her job.

“Of course” she replied and he couldn’t tell if he was being sensitive or if there was a teasing glint in her eyes. “My offer still stands.”

“I’m sorry what?” he asked, confused and scrambling to keep up.

“To help you find something…preferably a book. I don’t know how much help I’d be beyond that.”

“Oh sure, yeah, thanks” he mumbled, setting his stack of books down on the table next to him so he could more easily show her his phone screen. “Someone recommended this book to me, do you have it in stock?”

He caught a whiff of something earthy and relaxing as she leaned closer, her eyes scanning the note. “Ah, yes we actually have a display over this way. Theo’s a local author.”

He picked up his items and followed her, moving much quicker than he anticipated having to to keep up as she weaved through the store. “Have you worked here a long time?”

“My whole life essentially” she chuckled, throwing a grin over her shoulder. Just as she turned back, they passed a window that set her red hair aflame in the midday sun.

“Oh, yeah? No labor laws then?” he teased, he hoped, successfully.

“I mean, I basically harassed my parents to let me stock shelves or talk to customers. Now I’m slightly less enthusiastic about inventory.”

He laughed at her light tone, drawing to a stop as she did. “Wow, is this a series or something?” he asked, taking in the full display.

“Well, the one your girlfriend recommended is the first in a new series” she answered, pointing it out. He was about to correct her but she continued quickly, “And the sequel isn’t out until early next year, so you’ll be waiting a bit for answers. Maybe start with this one?” she suggested, pointing out a title with the fewest books available.

“Only a couple copies left, it must be popular. Have you read it?”

“More times than I can count” she huffed.

“You’d think if you kept rereading it’s because you enjoyed it, no?” he chuckled.

She simply shrugged, turning fully to meet his gaze, “Well, what’s the verdict? I do feel the need to warn you, these books are much closer to horror than just a normal mystery or thriller.”

“Why does no one think I can handle these books?” he sighed in mild annoyance, grabbing the one she’d recommended off the shelf.

“You just don’t seem like a horror enthusiast, that’s all.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Do you want me to answer genuinely?” she responded, eyebrow quirked in a challenge he couldn’t help but rise to.

“Sure but if you hurt my feelings, can you at least give me a discount?” he joked and she snorted out a laugh.

“You’ve got yourself a deal” she smirked, offering her hand to shake on it, which he did. He wasn’t at all surprised when her handshake was firm and she maintained eye contact the entire time. “Well, you have two historical fiction books with you and that was the first section you went to when you walked in.”

“You were watching me?” he laughed, earning him an eye roll.

“It’s 11AM on a Tuesday, there’s not much else to do,” she replied, gesturing to the otherwise empty store. “Plus, it’s a fun game to play when I procrastinate on doing actual work. Anyway,” she emphasized, closing her eyes briefly to seemingly get herself back on track. “Once you found those, both of which are part of long, ongoing series, you debated going left to nonfiction or right to mystery. My guess is, you normally would go pick out some biographies, maybe some historical nonfiction or even, oh, maybe some kind of ‘how to maximize yourself’ guide. How close am I?”

He felt his cheeks warm from pink to scarlet, “I mean, close but that doesn’t mean I can’t also like mysteries…” he argued weakly.

“True enough, who’s your favorite thriller writer?” The long silence was answer enough so she continued, “If you want, you can go pick out a nonfiction book and I’ll throw the thriller in for free.”

“You don’t have to do that, my feelings weren’t that hurt.”

She shrugged, “I can’t in good conscience let you pay for that book, you must have done something to piss off your girlfriend.”

“My coworker, actually” he corrected and her eyebrows rose. “What?”

“What did you do to the poor girl?”

“Nothing! I even took her suggestion to shop locally.”

“Our hero” she fake swooned and he rolled his eyes, making her laugh. “Fine, how about when you’re done you bring up your haul and I’ll throw in a surprise? I feel like you’re making it a pride thing to buy the book now.”

“Color me intrigued, we have another deal” he replied. “My name’s Quinn, by the way.”

“Dora” she replied but a loud snort erupted from near the registers. “Fuck off, Richie” she snapped, turning away from him to seemingly go yell at whoever laughed at her.

Quinn tried to relax back into the calming routine of ambling through a bookstore but he kept hearing her voice and couldn’t focus on much else. He grabbed a biography Jack had recommended, both dreading and eager to be teased by the redhead.

“Don’t let her manipulate you into buying that garbage” the guy, presumably Richie, called as soon as Quinn was in his line of sight.

“I’m doing no such thing! Tell him, Quinn” she replied, cheeks flaming red in annoyance, her golden eyes fierce with indignation.

“My coworker actually recommended this author. A different book but still…” he shrugged, placing his other selections on the counter. He noticed her eyes appraising his selections and the quick, amused quirk of her mouth before she whirled to focus on Richie.

“See I told you!”

“I’m sorry for not believing you” Richie said, seeming sincere to Quinn’s ears but Dora’s eyes narrowed. “It’s just that Theodora here often tries to swindle impressionable young men to improve her book sales.” The heavy emphasis on the girl’s full name made Quinn pause.

“Wait a minute…” he blinked rapidly, processing this new information. “Your family owns this shop, right? Thomas’ Tomes?”

“...yeah” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring daggers at the giggling Richie.

“And when you gave your name as Dora, he laughed. And this book, it’s written by Theo Thomas. And he just called you Theodora, which I think means you wrote this?” he questioned, feeling proud of himself for putting the pieces together and a little embarrassed it took him so long.

“He’s solved the mystery! Maybe he can handle your book after all, dear sister” Richie teased.

“I was going to tell him!” Theo argued, grabbing a pen and opening the book. “That was the surprise, Quinn, now you have a signed copy of the book. You’re welcome, you can thank my asshole brother for ruining the reveal. I also signed a copy of the one your coworker recommended, can you pass it along to her? On the house.”

“Are you sure?” Quinn questioned and she nodded, shifting to ring up the rest of his purchase.

“Theo, stop” Richie huffed, shifting her away from the till. “You need to stop procrastinating and finish that last round of edits, they’re due within the week.”

“It’s just garbage anyway, you said so yourself” Theo replied mopily, sitting down on the stool next to the register.

“Oh come on…” Richie sighed, pausing his scanning to give his sister his full attention. “I was just messing with you. I know the sequel’s giving you a hard time but you’re at the finish line now, just a few more days of work then it’s out of your hands. And you’re an incredible, if worryingly grotesque, writer so I have every faith it’ll be amazing.”

“Did you hear that, Quinn?” Theo asked, grinning widely. “He finally admitted I’m a good writer.”

“Oh fuck off, you guilted me into it!” Richie replied, grabbing the debit card from his outstretched hand. “Quinn, right?”

“...yeah?”

“Quinn, can you please take my sister anywhere other than this shop? The cafe, the movies, a strip club? I literally don’t care, she’s driving me nuts.”

“Richie! I’m sorry, he’s kidding, he knows that would be a weird, rude thing to request of a total stranger.”

“A total stranger you’ve been flirting with…” he mumbled and Theo jammed her elbow into his side.

“Here, let me walk you out…” Theo said, grabbing his bag of books and rapidly leading him away from her brother. Once the cool fresh air surrounded them, she turned quickly towards him. “I am so sorry, Richie thinks he’s funny when he’s really just weird.”

“I have two brothers, I get it” Quinn assured her, reaching to grab the bag from her hands. “It was nice to have someone sign something for me for once.”

“Do you sign things for people often?” she questioned, confusion evident in her eyes as she scanned him, trying to place who he may be.

“Most nights yeah” he chuckled shyly, embarrassed by his comment. “Forget about it though…”

“No, no, I’m curious now” she smiled, head tilted in appraisal. “Not an author, I’d know you already. You definitely don’t give off musician vibes…but I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything either so not an actor. Who are you really Quinn? Here I was feeling bad for putting you through the ringer for my own amusement back there and you were a celebrity the whole time.”

“I wouldn’t go that far” he laughed anxiously, running his hands through his hair.

“Well you’re either someone of import or completely delusional and just handing out signatures to people on the streets, so which is it?”

“I’m a hockey player.”

“...okay, and?”

“We’re in Vancouver.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“This is a huge hockey city! You don’t know the Canucks?”

“I don’t live under a rock, of course I do” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was raised in a bookstore though so sports aren’t high on my list of interests.”

“Are they on your list at all?”

“Take a wild guess, Quinn” she replied sarcastically. “I guess you’re a big deal then?”

“I mean, I am the captain…”

“Is that normally what gets girls interested in you?”

“Damn, tell me how you really feel” he answered, averting his eyes and trying to play off how the quip hurt him.

“Hey, I’m sorry” she replied, her voice gentle as she tugged softly on his coat sleeve “That’s not how I meant it. I guess I’m just surprised you felt the need to try to impress me when I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since I walked over to you in the shop.”

He was briefly stunned into silence, causing her to rapidly continue, “Oh god, I’m leaving. I hope my book doesn’t traumatize you and I’m sorry for assuming you were trying to impress me, that was weird and presumptuous of me.”

It was his turn to grab her sweater sleeve lightly, “Can I have your number?”

“Are you sure you want it? I’m clearly an expert at putting my foot into my mouth…”

“I’m 100% sure but only if you’re interested. There's no pressure.”

Theo reached into the shopping bag, adding her number to her signature before returning it. “Text me when you finish chapter eight, not a minute before okay? You need to know what you’re getting into here.”

***

Theo sighed, finally closing her laptop for the night but not before catching the time: 1AM. She’d procrastinated most of the day before forcing herself to do the one chapter she’d promised herself she’d get done. She was confident in the overall story but she felt like a single thread was missing that would lead to the next book’s central plot. Should the apparent villain be more gray and get a redemption arc? Or should she double down? Or maybe…her phone vibrating across the desk stopped her obsessing.

Respectfully, your mind must be a truly terrifying place. What the FUCK was that twist?

She smirked, butterflies tentatively taking flight in her stomach at the unknown number’s text.

I’m sorry, who is this?

How many men do you secretly sell your book to, sign said book with your number, and give detailed instructions on when they can use that number?

At least three today that I can think of, so any additional information would really help.

It’s Quinn.

Ah yes, the biography and historical fiction lover! What twist are you referring to?

I think if I typed it out I’d get flagged by an FBI agent or something…that was gruesome

I tried to warn you…

Take my advice, try harder with your next group of guys

I’ll do my best. I suspect the more I’d try to warn you off the more you would have dug your heels in though

Nah, I don’t have a competitive bone in my body

Of course, my bad. Will you finish the book or is it too much? You can always give it to your girlfriend

*Coworker. I wouldn’t be texting a beautiful girl I just met if I was in a relationship

How charming and reassuring of you!

Are you always like this?

Like what?

Chirping

…I’m sorry what?

You don’t know what chirping means? That’s disappointing given you're a writer, Theo…

Please, enlighten me

Chirping is a hockey term for when you’re ribbing someone. During a game, guys will chirp or make fun of each other to get under their skin.

Are you saying I’m getting under your skin?

I’m saying I feel like my brain has to work overtime to keep up with you

That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me

That can’t possibly be true

As she mulled over what to say next, the three blue dots popped up so she paused until his response appeareed

Can I ask you a forward question?

Shoot

Are you free tonight?

Are you asking me on a date?

Not quite, I’m asking you to come to my hockey game

And why’s that?

Because you’re clearly smart and cute and have a twisted mind that I’m curious to learn more about. But you gave me a warning, so asking you to go to my game is mine

Ah, so since you passed my test you want to see if I can pass yours?

If you want it to be a challenge, sure. I just think it’s fair for you to get a glimpse of my weird life before I actually ask you out. Just like how you showed me a glimpse of your weird brain.

Challenge and pre-date screening accepted. Where do I go and when?

Which is how Theo found herself weaving through the crowds at Rogers Arena. Quinn had offered to get her a second ticket so she’d have company but she figured it was fair she went it alone since he was game to read her book. How terrifying could a hockey game be in comparison to a brutal serial killer story?

Quite scary, it turned out. The crowd was electric, the arena was sold out, and the noise was deafening. She’d never admit it to Quinn but she did watch some basic hockey rule videos on YouTube so she wouldn’t be totally oblivious. By the third period, she felt settled into the rhythm of the game and was actually enjoying it a bit. Especially when a fight broke out and she could cheer for violence against a random man she didn’t know alongside thousands of people. There was something very cathartic about the experience.

It also turned out that Quinn, in this world, is a big deal. She’d immediately noticed that a huge percentage of fans were wearing his jersey. And as the team warmed up, Quinn had traded a puck for a piece of candy causing the teenage girl to scream in hysterics afterwards. It was both bizarre and fascinating to watch given she’d met this random man the day before at her family’s store. Maybe she should have asked for a signature, it probably would sell for a pretty penny…

A roar from the crowd pulled her attention back to the ice and her heart dropped to her stomach. Fights were a lot less fun when you knew and had budding feelings for one of the guys involved, especially when who he was squared off against had almost half a foot on him. To her surprise and relief, Quinn could hold his own, using speed to his advantage. When they both fell to the ice before finally being separated, she took it to mean it was a draw but the crowd screamed like he’d single handedly won the championship game, even as he was guided off the ice by the officials. There was less than three minutes left in the game so she hoped that was why rather than that he was hurt. She worried her lip between her teeth as she pulled out her phone.

Idk if you’ll see this before the end of the game but are you okay?????

She sighed as the minutes passed, the final buzzer sounding without a reply, so she stood to leave with the tide of people. Just as she tucked her phone in her pocket, she felt it buzzing insistently with a phone call.

“Quinn, are you okay?” she asked without greeting him. She was focused on his answer but noticed a few fans within hearing distance whip their heads towards her at his name.

“Yeah, sorry I jumped right in the shower after the major.”

“I don’t totally know what that whole sentence means but I’m relieved you’re alright.”

His warm chuckle through the phone made her toes curl. “Did I scare you off?”

“I’m offended you’d think so” she replied but if he’d been with her, he’d easily tell she was a little shaken by the experience.

“If you say so, Dora…” he teased and she laughed loudly, accidentally drawing more attention her way. “Can I take you out for a drink then?”

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’m currently in a sea of your most devoted followers though so I’ll need some help finding you.”

He stayed on the phone as he guided her through the arena to the parking deck where he’d meet her shortly, only hanging up once she confirmed she was at the right car by reading his license plate number back to him. She scrolled through her phone while waiting but she felt eyes on her. She couldn’t help but be a little uncomfortable at the thought that these strangers knew Quinn’s car or at very least understood players would be emerging into this section of the parking garage. As a lifelong Vancouver resident, she obviously knew how hockey-obsessed her city was but she never thought much about these details.

She heard male voices approaching from the opposite direction of where she’d come so she tucked her phone in her purse. Quinn emerged with a tall blonde, their two heads bent together in serious conversation. When a young boy approached, they both paused, kneeling down to greet him and sign his jersey. They repeated the motion a few times before excusing themselves from the small crowd that had formed.

“Hey! How’d you like the game?” Quinn asked, briefly pulling her in for a hug.

“I really liked the fighting until you were involved, then it was less fun” she admitted, smiling to greet Quinn’s companion. “I’m Theo.”

“Elias, good to meet you. Enjoy the rest of your night and maybe help Theo into your car before loading up, yeah?” Elias suggested and she felt her brows furrow. Quinn quickly glanced back towards the small group of people and her eyes followed his, noting that several phones were out and seemingly recording everything.

“Thanks man, drive safe” Quinn replied, placing his hand on the small of her back to guide her to the passenger side “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine” she replied despite her confusion and frazzledness. He must have seen it on her face though because he quickly unlocked the door and helped her in. A moment later he was in the driver’s seat, backing up and speeding through the parking deck.

“I think this is the longest silence I’ve experienced in your presence” Quinn mused at the long, but not uncomfortable, quiet that had settled.

“I’m sorry that was just…”

“A lot? Too much? I can drop you off if you’ve changed your mind, I get it” he nervously filled in.

“Quinn, stop,” she laughed. “That’s not what I was going to say, it’s just a lot to process. I really thought you were trying to, like, gas yourself up when you said people wanted your signature daily but the girl you gave a puck to almost burst into tears afterwards”

His cheeks flamed a deep crimson which she found wildly endearing, “Yeah, it’s a lot to process for me and it’s my life.” She took in his tired eyes and the dark circles beneath them.

“Why don’t we go back to my place? I have a full bar cart and you seem like you could use some quiet” she offered.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Quinn, I extended the invitation, of course I’m sure. Just take the left at the next light.”

She guided him through the city to her apartment, allowing silences to stretch while he seemingly decompressed from the game and its aftermath. Contrary to his initial impression, she was comfortable with quiet and enjoyed when someone’s company didn’t require constant banter and attention.

“Here, park in this spot, my neighbor’s away this week so no one will care if you're there.”

He did as instructed and she went to open the car door, nearly knocking him with it, “Jesus, Quinn! Did you sprint over here? I can open the door myself, you know…”

“I didn’t sprint, I just moved quickly. And I know you can open the door, I just wanted to do it for you” he mumbled and she smiled at his nervousness.

“Well, thanks and I'm sorry for almost injuring you. It seems like something that could really fuck with your job.”

“Just a little” he chuckled, offering his hand to help her out of his truck. She took it, enjoying how warm and calloused his fingers felt against her own. He went to remove his grip but she squeezed his fingers in a silent request to keep holding on, which he did.

“This is a great spot” he complimented as they rode the elevator up to her floor. “I guess the writing’s really working out?”

“I moved in about a year ago. I’d been doing pretty good but then my most recent book, the one your coworker recommended, kind of blew up. Which is great but also has made getting the sequel done a bit stressful” she admitted, reluctantly releasing his hand to unlock her door.

“Why’s that? Wouldn’t the success kind of add to your confidence?”

“It did, for a little, but if this next one tanks then it just proves it was a fluke and then what?” she questioned, flicking on the lights. “Penny!” she called, squatting down to pet her beloved dog.

Penny wiggled into her body, pushing her over and onto the floor making Theo chuckle. “Settle down, it’s only been a few hours.”

“She’s beautiful” Quinn complimented from behind her, closing the door as he stepped inside. Penny was immediately investigating him, sniffing his hands as her tail wagged excitedly. “What a sweetie. You said her name’s Penny, right?”

“Yeah, short for Pennywise” Theo elaborated as she stood back up to slip her shoes off.

“Of course, how silly of me to not make the connection” he chuckled.

“I mean, I’m named after a horror novel character so I had to continue the family tradition with my own child” she explained, making her way towards the kitchen.

“Are you really?”

“Yeah, Theodora from Haunting of Hill House. Richie was named after Tozier in Stephen King’s It.”

“That makes your choice of genre less surprising.”

She laughed and shrugged, “What can I get you to drink?”

“Honestly? I don’t really drink, I just wanted to see you tonight since the game didn’t scare you off.”

“I tried to tell you, I don’t scare easily,” she teased. “I don’t really drink either. Hot cocoa?”

“Sounds great, thanks” he replied and she busied herself getting the ingredients together. “Seriously though, what did you think of the game?”

“Like I said, it was fun until I worried you were hurt, then it was significantly less enjoyable” she answered, handing him a warm mug. “Want to hang in my library? Your book taste is questionable but I still think you’ll enjoy my collection.”

“Why is my taste questionable?” he scoffed but followed her down the hall.

“It’s just very…dude bro-y.”

“How elegant” he teased and she rolled her eyes.

“Maybe not elegant, but accurate, no?”

“Whatever, Dora” he grumbled and she laughed.

“Is that going to be a thing? You call me by my least favorite nickname when I annoy you?”

“To be fair, it was you who offered that name up.”

She sighed, sipping her drink and settling into the couch in her study. She watched as he slowly made his way around the room, every wall lined with books from floor to ceiling. “This room is incredible.”

“Thanks” she beamed, genuinely thrilled at the compliment. “It’s kind of my pride and joy, aside from Penny, of course.”

“I can tell,” he replied earnestly, settling beside her. “There has to be some nonfiction in here, right?”

“Sure, if you’re into true crime, psychology, forensics, and/or mental health memoirs.”

“I actually really enjoy psychology, it’s helped my game a lot.”

“Really?” she asked and couldn’t hide the surprise from her tone which earned her a light glare. “I just meant that hockey seems much more physical than cerebral.”

“Oh it’s super mental actually” he argued and she nodded her encouragement for him to continue. “Okay so tonight for example. I didn’t have to drop my gloves and fight but doing so showed my team that I have their back and the other team that even though I’m smaller, they can’t push me around. Since I’m a quieter guy, I choose my actions carefully to kind of speak without speaking if that makes sense.”

“It does but you’re not small, silly. Not that it would matter even if you were but you’re not.”

“I’m hockey small” he corrected and she didn’t know enough to argue. “Oh, another example. When a player is approaching the goal, they have to strategize what they can physically do while also anticipating the goalies expectations. Which is hard because the goalie is doing the same thing. So, it becomes really strategic in addition to the skill you need to play at this level.”

She nodded, genuinely intrigued by this new element of the game she watched tonight. He must have taken her silence for boredom because he quickly continued, “I’m sorry, I can be a bit of a hockey nerd.”

“Don’t be sorry, it honestly makes the game more interesting to me to think of it that way. Plus, I already knew you were a book nerd, what’s one more level of nerdiness?”

He rolled his eyes and she laughed, lost in their deep blue. The air shifted between them, tension developing where there had been none. She set her mug down, eyes dipping to his lips and back up. She really wanted to know what his mouth would feel like against hers.

“I come with a lot of baggage” he admitted quietly and she shrugged.

“Don’t we all?” she asked, matching his quiet tone. She couldn’t help herself from raising a hand to gently trace the curve of his cheekbones. “I really like looking at you” she mumbled before she could think the comment through.

He chuckled softly, covering her hand with his own, “I really like looking at you too, weirdo.”

She grinned at his response, closing her eyes as his mouth finally met her own.

A/N: Sorry for the cut to black, I'm debating if I want to continue with this OC so let me know what you think! It's my first OC in a very, very long time so sorry if the grammar is wonky in spots.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes oc

249 notes · View notes

gerec · 5 months ago

Note

best long fics? i've only been reading oneshots lately. i like cherik which can be a book too.

To make this list even a tiny bit manageable I'm choosing to define 'long' as over 100k. There are a lot of superb fics on this list, Anon; happy reading!

Nine Eleven Ten by Subtilior (WIP - the definition of a fandom classic with fantastic worldbuilding)

Years later, Charles would remember that day. Sometimes he would wonder if he could have changed anything; other times he would despair over what he had since become. But he would always hold the image in his mind: Raven, laughing, and his thoughts flying alongside her on strong wings, silver-gold through the winter air. Once upon a time.

The stars incline us, they do not bind us by ikeracity, Pangea

Intergalactic Federation pilot Lieutenant Charles Xavier is assigned last-minute to a high profile mission: transporting over two thousand prison inmates from an old and overfilled prison complex to a newer, higher-capacity prison stronghold located on the outer reaches of the galaxy. Just as he's settling down for a long and uneventful ride, things take a turn for the worse after the inmates riot and stage a hostile takeover of the ship, leaving Charles to find himself at the complete mercy of cold-blooded killers and facing the chilling prospect that he might not ever make it back home alive.

A Curious Carriage of Crystal and Cold by Etharei

Charles, a miner from a poor village in the countryside, saves the life of Erik Lehnsherr, scion of a successful business family and the richest man on the planet Eisen. Charles is a telepath and somewhat anxious about it, while Erik abstains from relationships because the lights flicker and doors open and electronics vibrate when he gets too excited.

Also featuring a long-suffering sister, a foul-mouthed bodyguard, and a best friend with a heart that is definitely not gold.

In which there are princes, spaceships, long journeys, and old secrets uncovered. (An AU sci-fi fairytale)

Tessellation by nekosmuse

He had been following Xavier's career for years. He had read and reread and reread again everything the man had written. He had tried, on more occasions than he could count, to recruit Xavier into the Brotherhood, but each request for a meeting had been denied. Aside from his work, no one knew anything about Xavier. Not what he looked like, not the full extent of his power--though from what little they did know, he was by far the most powerful telepath in existence--and not what his intentions were.

The man was a recluse. As far as Magneto knew, Xavier had never once stepped foot outside his impenetrable Westchester manor. And now he was scheduled as the keynote speaker for the largest pro-mutant conference in the world.

The Marriage Bargain by kianspo

Erik Lehnsherr had made a fortune manufacturing steel in Europe. When he wished to expand to the New World, he discovered that no one would do business with him unless he was affiliated with one of the First Families, the creme de la creme of the NW aristocracy. When Lord Marko holds an auction to give away his 14-year-old stepson's hand in marriage, Erik sees his chance and takes it. He has no interest in Charles himself, but now that he has him, can they make it work?

Everyday Love in Stockholm by tahariel

Prompt: Magneto is the ruler of the posthuman world.

His only secret? Charles Xavier, the human he's kept locked in his bedroom ever since his right-hand woman, Mystique, came to him pleading for mercy for her stepbrother, who accepted her mutant form and protected her as a child. The human he started fucking after Mystique was killed in battle, despite the guilt he feels at contaminating even this last promise to the woman who was integral to his life's work and happiness.

The Proper Care of Actors by afrocurl, Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etharei (series)

Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.

The Associates by ikeracity, Pangea (series)

Being a mob boss' associate has its ups and downs. Having sex in the back of a limo on Valentine's Day is definitely one of the ups.

The Sonnet Series by afrocurl, nekosmuse (series)

Erik Lehnsherr is a visiting professor at Columbia University, as well as an acclaimed and award winning poet. Charles Xavier is a lead researcher with the Genetics Department who is well on his way to tenure. But what happens when Charles has to cancel a class because half his students abandon him in favour of a mysterious new English Lit professor? Naturally he ends up sitting in in the class, where Professor Lehnsherr mistakes him for a student. It's really too bad Erik has such a strict policy against dating students. It's also too bad Erik doesn't seem to know how to use Google.

Space Oddity by MonstrousRegiment, Pangea (series)

Prince Charles Xavier is Deputy Commander of the TEF Heartsteel and the newest mission they've been assigned starts out less than desirable and quickly goes downhill from there. It's alright, though, he'll cope.

It doesn't help, though, that he's in unrequited love with his best friend and Commander of the Heartsteel, War-Prince Erik Lehnsherr.

Nation Building and other Diplomatic Negotiations by Pookaseraph

With the recent passage of a submissive registration law in the United Kingdom, there are now only two industrialized nation with a relatively stable government to have neither a mutant nor a submissive registration law. Erik Lehnsherr, the newly minted King of Genosha, and his Prime Minister Emma Frost intend to take advantage of this turn of events to bring the Xavier Institute to the island nation of Genosha. They both know bringing Charles Xavier, the noted activist of mutant and submissive rights, to the island will necessarily politicize the man, and create all manner of complications. With a constitution not yet finalized and external threats to Genoshan security all around them, Erik, Emma, and Charles will fight for what they believe in to shape Genosha into what it should be.

Do You Love Me by cgf_kat

Charles and Erik have been married for 25 years, thrown together by a mandatory post-apocalyptic pairing system attempting to increase and strengthen the population. They have seven children. They have never spoken of love, but change is on the horizon.

Ritual Self-Torture by TurtleTotem

For the following prompt: Shaw is King, Charles is his royal consort and Erik is a Knight/Lord. Shaw is sterile but his kingdom can't find out, so he asks Erik to impregnate Charles.

He doesn't know Erik and Charles are in love.

But I Would Walk Five Hundred Miles, And I Would Walk Five Hundred More by luninosity (series)

In which Charles isn't really an escort, Erik thinks he only wants a one-night stand, everybody's got a past, and there's quite a lot of sex on the way to the happy ending.

We Met At The Park by StarRose

AU, no powers, based on McAvoy's performance as Martin in Murder In Mind. Unable to sleep one night Erik takes a midnight walk in the local park. He finds himself being followed and propositioned by a rent boy named Charles, and begins to fall rather rapidly for his charms. Charles however has never known what love is, and doesn't recognise it even when it's staring at him in the face. As for Erik, he doesn't realise a creeping illness is slowly affecting Charles, and his dark past is something he couldn't have imagined.

Strict Machine by euphorbic

When Professor Charles F Xavier accepted a visiting professor position in Arizona, he did so in order to be geographically closer to his sister. What he did not expect to find was the living, breathing specter of the sportbike gang-oriented past he’d been trying to put to rest.

A tale of sport bikes, consequences, and sacrifice.

MAD Dogs by ClarkeStetler, Goosenik (series)

Charles and Erik are (loosely) friends with benefits. They don't share personal details, last names, or anything concrete about their lives. This is ruined rather spectacularly when Charles gets recruited by the Mutant Apprehension Division of the FBI. Surprised is a bit of an understatement for their reaction to finding themselves partnered up and sent out on cases with the team.

Bit of a detective fic? Really just an excuse for us to play around with MAD (Mutant Apprehension Division) that we created in Playing House.

A Doll's House by lachatblanche

Welcome to the Dollhouse, where all your dreams and fantasies come true. At a price. Based on the TV show Dollhouse.

#gerec rambles #cherik #long fic #>100k #long post #fic rec #gerec's fic rec

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come-on-darling-honey · 2 years ago

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colourblind [paul lahote x reader]

AN:// this pushes all of the wolves and new moon plot to summer.

summary: based on this post of how the shift Paul and the others experience would give them physical attributes akin to a wolf, which is being colourblind. Which Paul finds himself in, until of course, he sees you for the first time in months on the first day of summer.

warnings- mature language and themes. one suggestive scene. 18+ word count 10k.

“La Push baby! Its LaPush!”

“Do you have to say that every time we go to LaPush?” I asked, staring at the back of Mike and Eric’s heads in the van. They were singing and screaming into the warm air as we drove down to First Beach.

“He said that to me when I first came to LaPush,” Bella added, meekly. I laughed, lightly pushing against her. She was wearing a white blouse and tan shorts, opposing my dark shorts and tight blue shirt, Angela had gotten me it when she went to the Grand Canyon with her family. It read “visit the Grand Canyon today!” on the back, so ugly I loved it.

“He’s been saying it since we were five and our parents would carpool us in the summer.” I whispered to Bella; we were both laughing at the terrifying attempt from Mike to sing ‘Wanna Be’ by Spice Girls. Butchering the lines didn’t matter to Mike, it was summer. First day of it. Bella was finally out of the pit she had found herself in.

I’d spent almost every Friday and Saturday night of the past seven months sleeping over at the Swan house, waiting for Bella to come through. At first it was scary, the screaming and the vacancy of her mind, but she’s better now. At least I hope she is, Charlie thinks so, but I’m worried she’s becoming dependent on our friend Jacob. Coming to First Beach did mean a far chance we could run into Jacob, but it also means she’s surrounded by other people, and as annoying as Mikes singing is, I can tell she’s enjoying it.

“Are you okay?” I heard Bella say, we’d parked, and the boys were getting their surfing gear on. I hadn’t even noticed; Bella was wide eyed like a little deer and grasping onto my shoulder. “Is it to do with Paul?”

“No,” I laughed uncomfortably shaking her off as I got out of the seat into the back, taking of my clothes to reveal my favourite bikini underneath. “Not even thinking about him.” Which was true, to an extent. I had been thinking about Paul Lahote all morning and all last night and the day before, and every day since three weeks ago but that wasn’t in this moment. So technically… not a lie!

She watched me in clear disbelief but didn’t push it. She knew some rumours about Paul from Jacob, not kind ones but as the days go on, I’m starting to believe them myself. Hall monitors on steroids. “What book are you bringing?” Bella asked, changing the subject.

“The Metamorphosis by Kafka, are you rereading Austen again?” I said, searching through my bag for suncream. The only way id gotten Bella to agree to coming today was to promise I’d stay by her side all day and we can just read on the beach. Which worked out well for me, I always hated getting changed after leaving the ocean, everything stuck to you; clothes, sand, everything. She nodded and sheepishly pulled Persuasion out of her bag. Bella grabbed the towels we were going to lay on as I surveyed the beach for the best spot, there were a lot more people than usual but it’s what I expected. The remote spot in the south corner seemed perfect. Setting down camp, I heard laughter and colliding footsteps coming towards us, Mike, Eric and now Tyler ran to our spot, and all jumped over one another to lay on the sand. Not a single cloud in the sky, not that the boys noticed, too busy apologising to Bella for covering her towel with sand. Laughing it off quietly she shook the towel and threw all the sand on the boys. She stopped laughing as she looked over my shoulder. Standing up I saw, Sam Uley talking with Jared, Paul and Embry? But Embry was huge and at least half a foot taller than when I last saw him. They began kicking a ball around until Paul suddenly turned in my direction. Swivelling quickly, I stared into the sea. Sitting down on my towel that I was apparently sharing with Jess, I looked over at Bella. Giving me a comforting smile, she nodded towards our books that sat in the bag at the foot of her towel.

A few hours had passed when Jacob and Quil had made their way over to us, Jess, Angela, and the boys had all decided to go on an impromptu adventure leaving Bella and I in peace, that is until Quil collapsed on my towel and Jacob calmly sat next to Bella.

“See how normal Jake is?” I asked kicking Quil with my foot, “Be more like Jake.” They all laughed as the fiend on my towel rolled over.

“Figured you needed protecting.” He said, puffing his chest put lightly with a boyish smile.

“From what?” Bella laughed.

“Lahote’s been staring at you for a while,” Jacob said staring at me. Turning around I saw Paul from a distance, I could barely make out his face but saw that he definitely wasn’t happy.

“Well thank you gentlemen, but we can handle ourselves.” I said, laughing when Quil got hit with a rouge baseball.

We spoke for a while, making jokes at each other’s expense and avoiding the subject of Embry completely. Bella and I had come to an unspoken agreement that if they wanted to talk about it, they would. I looked around the beach and saw a stall on the pavement beyond the pavilion, an old lady selling handmade jewellery. I told Bella, Jake, and Quil that I was going to see what she was selling and grabbed my purse from my bag. Making my way over across the hot sand I regretted not grabbing a shirt from Quil or Jake or even making a detour to the van, so many people were looking at me, even if they were wearing the same thing, I felt so exposed.

“Hello dear, having a good day?” The lady asked as I finally reached her stand. We spoke about the weather and then about her creations, one with a beautiful orange crystal in the middle had caught my eye. “Citrine, they bring positivity and happiness” she winked once she caught where I was looking. I grabbed my purse but before I could hand over the $5 someone else passed it to her. Following the tan hand, I saw Paul; he was looking at the lady and explained he’d buy it for me. She smiled and accepted the money, handing him the necklace over. Paul looked at the necklace in his hand and squinted, looking oddly heartbroken.

“I can buy it myself.” I said as he walked a few steps out of earshot of the old lady. He still hadn’t actually looked me in the eye yet. It was infuriating. “You know its super fucking rude of you to ignore me for weeks, replace me with new friends, act like I don’t exist and then pretend like nothings happened.” He tensed at this; I kept going. “And now you won’t even look me in the eye!” I laughed, his large shoulders straightened, God when did he get so big.

As he turned around something shifted, I’m not sure what but it was definitely something. He stared at me wide eyed, speechless and I saw tension fall from him. But I had no patience for him.

“Are you going to give me the necklace or should I just go and buy one for myself.” This seemed to snap him out of it, he passed me the necklace and kept looking at me. Not staring anymore, more of a gaze. Not voyeuristic as the other gazes from men on the beach but an intimate one, one I wanted to avoid. His eyes are a stunning brown, I think to my painting at home, I’d made him sit for hours, waiting for the result when I’d spent twenty minutes alone painting half an eye, he waited.

Tearing myself away from him I look down at the necklace, it was beautiful. I had to not owe him this. I took the $5 out of my purse and pressed it to his chest. He finally caught on and gently pushed my hand away.

“Take it.” I demanded.

“It’s a gift.” He whispered, the way he used to.

“Please take it.” I begged lightly; I couldn’t owe him for this.

“What is going on?” A harsh voice interrupted us. Quil had stood in front of my right shoulder, not hiding me completely but being a clear attempt to shield me. He didn’t know any of the details of what happened between Paul and I, but honestly, I didn’t either. He just knew how broken I was, crying to him when Bella, Jake, and Embry weren’t around. Knowing I couldn’t handle their silent looks.

“None of your fucking business, Ateara.” Paul snapped, his body tightening. Quil pushed him, suddenly Jared was holding Paul back and Sam had appeared in front of us. He had whispered something to Paul that I couldn’t catch but it looked more like a demand. One I wasn’t entirely sure was in Quil and I’s favour or not.

Jacob had arrived by this point, staring at Embry in disbelief who had told Quil to ‘back off’, Embry was normally so sweet and quiet. The way he was acting as he was influenced by the others was a clear sign to the mentality that I didn’t want anything to do with. Paul had caught my eye from over Sam’s shoulder, a pleading sense to him. I looked away, staring at Quil’s back. I couldn’t do this, get caught up in whatever teenage boy bullshit was going on. I was 18, Paul 19, Quil 17. I had no fucking interest. Ignoring the yells of my name I walked back to Bella who had watched the whole affair in bewilderment. I walked back to Bella in more confidence then when I had left, I couldn’t explain it, but I knew the people looking know, weren’t looking at me and if they were it, was a good thing. Sitting on the towel I thanked Bella for staying with the stuff and picked up my book. Not before placing the Citrine necklace in my bag. She watched me as I lied back down but I couldn’t care, knowing I’d have to tell her every detail later anyway. Jess practically ran to us, monopolising my towel once again and demanding to know what she had seen from across the beach.

“I mean not only was he completely eye-fucking you but who were all his friends?!” She practically screamed, I hit her shoulder lightly with my book for ‘eye-fucking’ as Bella blushed, but explained who the boys were.

“Oh, they’re coming over!” Jess said, elated with the drama unfolding right in front of her. My legs slid over Jess so she wouldn’t leave and who ever was coming wouldn’t stay, which thankfully she understood as she grabbed my legs lightly with a comforting rub.

“Can you believe the nerve of Embry?” I heard Jake yell as he was approaching us, Bella’s cheeks were as pink as Jess’ bikini. Jess’ jaw dropped as she ate up Quil and Jake’s physique, I watched her over my book, smirking as she stared at the long haired boys.

Quil called my name, and I looked up, with my head laid down I saw him as a giant, which made me laugh.

“What the fuck was he saying to you.” Quil demanded, staring at me.

“It’s over, don’t worry about it.” I said calmly.

“Don’t worry? He’s a fucked-up dude! Literally almost exploded on me, again!” he gave Jess context, that Paul had almost ‘attacked’ Quil in a convenience store a few weeks ago. She looked down at me in surprise. I still read my book.

“As hot as he is,” Jess said with Quil and Jake protesting as she ignored them, “no boy is worth it if he has anger like that.” She said with the older sister tone she normally used on her younger siblings. Quil and Jake agreed with her, but Bella stayed silent, I looked at her from the corner of my eye and saw her staring at the pavilion.

“Honestly, if you go back to him, I can’t be your fucking friend.” I caught Quil saying. I stood up so quick I dropped my book on the towel, loosing the page. Where did this come from? Bella, Jake and even Jess went quiet. Quil had snapped, he never snapped at me.

“First of all, that would be my decision, second, I wasn’t ‘with’ him in the first place and thirdly you don’t get to be so fucking rude to me.” I snapped, pointing a finger at his chest.

“He’s a bad fucking person and you know it.” His eyes stared into mine, harsh and true.

“You don’t know him how I know him.” I defended Paul, for some unknown reason. I didn’t even fully believe myself I was just so hurt with how Quil was acting everything was blurring out of anger.

“After everything he did, you’re defending him!” Quil yelled, desperation in his eyes, he was looking at me as if I was crazy, which I was beginning to feel.

“You don’t fucking care about me.” I yelled back. Storming away, grabbing only my bag and purse, leaving my book and towel. All but Quil yelled after me.

Opening the van, Mike was sat in the back struggling to get the sand of his feet. “Pass me my clothes.” I said, I couldn’t hear myself due to the anger raising and blurring everything, but I could tell I was being rude, Mike’s smile dropped into a worried expression as he gave me my clothes. I dressed in silence as he asked me if someone did something, like the protective older brother he always acted like. I shook my head, unable to fathom words that weren’t a string of swears. Did Quil really think that lowly of me? Did he think he could just give me an ultimatum like that, and I’d accept it? Fuck this and fuck him.

I told Mike I was going home and as he asked if I wanted a lift, I slammed the door of the van shut too hard and made my way to the back streets of first beach. I knew if I got to the centre of LaPush that I could find the bus stops I used to use when I’d hang out with Paul. Lead hit me over the head when I thought about him. I suddenly had an urge to sit by his side unlike the recent weeks where id sworn him off and cried and cried.

A truck pulled up beside me, old and worn I recognised it as Sam Uley’s. I looked over to see him sat in the driver’s seat looking at me.

“I’ll give you a ride.” He said, in a way I felt oddly comforted by as I got in. Normally, I would’ve told him to fuck off, but I felt way too emotional to walk the twenty minute walk to the centre of town. We sat in silence for ten minuets after I’d told him my address. I wanted to ask him about Paul, even about Emily and Leah but it didn’t feel right. This would be the fifth time I’d been near him let alone speak to him, so it just felt wrong. But he must’ve been thinking the same thing.

“It’s not Paul’s fault.”

“What?” I asked, looking at him. He was staring intensely into the road, it was weird, it felt like Sam was effortlessly the comforting older brother figure Mike had tried to be. Yet he seemed guilty like he’d made a mistake, not know but before.

“I told him to stay away from you, it was my fault. He had no choice.” I decided to listen, to make sense of what he was saying. “There’s somethings you need to know, do you remember Emily?” I nodded, unable to speak in fear he’d stop speaking. “I’ll write her address down for you, visit any time and she’ll help you.” How cryptic could one person be.

“Why did Paul listen to you?” I questioned, staring at him. His dark brown hair was swooped back so he could see the road.

“He had no choice, you’ll understand.”

“I don’t understand anything.” He laughed.

“You will.” He pulled over and stopped driving, we’d reached my house. He pulled a notebook from the glove compartment. “Here’s her address and my number if you need a ride.”

“I can get Bella to drive me.”

“No, Bella can’t know about this, it doesn’t involve her. I’m sorry but you must trust me.”

“I tell Bella everything.” I said, taking the sheet of paper from him.

“But does she tell you everything?” he asked, his tone wasn’t accusatory like Quil’s had been, no, Sam asked me like he was genuinely worried about me. He was right, I knew Bella wasn’t telling me something. I couldn’t ask, hoping she’d finally tell me.

“I guess this means don’t tell Jake or… Quil.” He nodded, I got out of the truck, thanking him for the ride.

“You hike a lot, right?” It was my turn to nod. “Take a break for a while, with all those attacks it really isn’t safe.” I agreed, sadly, and went inside, after thanking him again for the ride. “Ever need a lift, just let me know, I’ll sort one out for you.”

I was glad it was summer break. All my free time had been spent on art: painting, sketching, and avoiding literally everything else. I’d been missing all of Bella’s calls and thankfully when she came over to my house I was working. Sam had been giving me lifts to work since I normally did a small hike there. I worked on the other side of Forks at a plant shop and nowhere near Bella. Whatever she was hiding from me had been eating away at me for a while. Summer break had also given me an escape from running into Jess, I loved her, but I had literally no answers for her. And the theories I had were so bat-shit crazy I had feeling no one would believe them.

Quil had called seventeen times. I couldn’t call him back, still angry at the way he spoke to me. Maybe he was right about Paul, but a small voice in the back of my head I’d nicknamed ‘stupid consciousness’ told me I should give Paul a fair chance and listen to Sam. Maybe it was some crazy mastermind ploy to pull down my defences, but id started to befriend Sam, and Emily as she’d joined him a few times to take me to work. I couldn’t figure out why they’d decided to help me out suddenly, but I decided to just go with it, I felt safer, loved and they never brought up Paul.

8:30am on a Tuesday morning I sat in the garden waiting for Sam. My headphones blasting Noah Kahan’s new album. It was chiller then it would be for this time of year, so a loose fleece hung around my body. We had another month of beautiful sun until the constant hood of clouds and rain returned to Forks. I had started worrying this morning that Sam driving me to and from work was an inconvenience, I hadn’t been insecure about this before, but it was daunting on me now. What if I was just pushing him out of his way and annoying him? Annoying Emily? I felt suddenly sick. But the truck in front of me pulled me out of the haze. Sam’s brotherly grin made me smile, my older brother was away at college, and I missed him. He opened my door form his side and I got in, the fear of inconvenience looming over me. Taking off my headphones I heard the soft folk music playing form the old truck. It was a twenty-minute drive to my work; we made nice conversation till Sam said something that struck me.

“Come to Ems tonight, I’ll finally explain it to you.” Weeks had passed since Sam initially asked me, it was clear I didn’t want to ask, so he’d decided to tell me. I nodded, silently looking out the window. Five minutes till we got there.

“Will he be there?”

“Yes.” He was short, sweet, and blunt. I knew I couldn’t hide from this, so I decided to ask what had been looming over me all morning.

“Why do you drive me? You work on the res; this is completely out of your way.” I still held my gaze out of the window. But I heard him grin as he told me.

“Well, I like your company, I always wanted a baby sister,” I scoffed at ‘baby’ which he caught and laughed, “plus it really is not safe if you walk to work, you walk through the bush, it isn’t safe.” His tone was serious at the end. I knew he was telling the truth. When we arrived, he looked over at me, smiling he passed me a brown bag. Holding back a laugh he told me “Em’s worried you aren’t eating enough”.

“She does know I’m an adult right?” I laughed, taking the bag.

“Well do you have any lunch today?” the silence from me made him laugh as I clearly did not, infact, have lunch. I threw a piece of card from the car door at him as I mumbled in protest.

“Pick me up at four?” I asked, putting the brown bag in my own. He nodded, as he drove away, I realised how long today was going to be.

I was right. So annoyingly, right. The day dragged, it felt that five hours had passed when in fact it was only two and I couldn’t even go for my lunch yet. If one more old lady asked me to point her in the direction of the roses, I was going to lose my mind. Not only was it weird that roses were extremely popular among old ladies but that they couldn’t see that the roses were at the front of the store, they were the first things you saw as you walked in.

At 1:25pm I heard a familiar gruff voice echo in the small shop. Charlie Swan. I was praying he was talking to a friend, or that there had been a horrible crime and the shop was under investigation. But as I heard a small, feminine voice I knew I wouldn’t have such luck. Of course, when I was working Chief Swan would decide to finally re-do his front garden. My lunch break was in five minutes if I could just hide here then my 60-year-old co-worker Henry would serve them. Henry was a true one, he’d help me in my hour of need. I hid behind the seeds, staring at Iris in its many forms as I heard Bella ask Henry if I was working too, I wasn’t sure if Henry and I had some super cool intuition or if he had genuinely forgotten I was working as he told her I wasn’t today. As I snuck away for my lunch break, I internally praised Henry for being the best co-worker that has ever lived.

Checking my phone, I noticed a missed call from Sam and a text.

“Can’t pick you up, Em is going to, she’ll be using her truck- its blue same make as Bella’s. Will be there when you arrive. Sorry.”

As weird as that was, I was just thankful I had a ride, I didn’t trust Henry behind the wheel.

The afternoon had passed quicker than the morning, the lunch Emily had made me was embarrassingly good and oddly comforting. As I finished my shift I gave Henry a fist bump, he laughed the way old people do, as a reflex showing that they’ve been laughing all their life. Emily’s blue truck pulled up; it had a better paint job then Sam’s but I had a feeling Sam worked on her truck more than his own.

“How was your day?” Em gleamed as I got into the car.

“Dull but the lunch was amazing, thank you.” I laughed as she grinned like a fool.

“I knew you’d like it! Paul told me you were vegetarian, and I’ve been dying to pull out those veggie cookbooks! The boys always avoid vegetables, it’s ridiculous!” she laughed as I wound the window down, warm air sifting through. My fleece cocooned in my bag form this morning, abandoned in the heat. I smiled, feeling warm at the casual mentioning of Paul. I’d assumed Sam’s business was something to do with work and that it wasn’t my business but at Em’s odd avoidance of it, something felt different.

I’d told her about Henry and Bella, talking more about Henry then Bella, Em laughed so hard she coughed. Pulling up to her house, I was shocked. It was beautiful. When we got out, I stared at the cabin, two stories and covered in flowers and plants. Wooden furniture, big windows, and open doors. It was beautiful. Em pulled me in, it was even more perfect inside. Bright colours and paintings everywhere. Sitting at a round, wooden table Em beckoned me to join her.

“Your home is… wow just amazing,” I was still looking at everything, the open kitchen and dining room was so homely and comforting. She smiled and grabbed my hand.

Emily was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen. The scar on her face to her arm didn’t change that. She was even more beautiful; she wore it proudly. When she smiled part of the scar creased at her eye. Her long black hair hung over her shoulders, bangs perfectly trimmed. My hair was almost as long as hers, but she had a few inches on me.

“How are you feeling?” her caring tone standing through.

“Nervous, I have no idea what is about to happen.”

She nodded, squeezing my hand. “I’ll be here the whole time, if you don’t want to be here at any moment just say and we’ll go, no questions asked.” She must’ve noticed the apprehension in my face. “Nothings going to hurt you, Sam and Paul have made sure of that.” I trusted her, more than I trusted the people I grew up with. I knew for certain there was something going on, that involved Paul and Sam, probably Jared and Embry too. Whatever it was I hoped it didn’t involve Quil and Jake too.

Voices came through the door behind us that led out to Emily’s extensive garden. Sam and Paul came in. Both shirtless and only wearing shorts. Which was weird but I guess they felt the heat more than Emily and I, Emily was wearing a stunning white sundress and I white pants and black shirt, my apron from work stuffed in my bag along side the fleece.

Paul looked at me, he looked horrible, dark bags under his eyes, and it looked as if he had to hold himself back from me. Not in a threatening way, not the relief in his eyes told me this was good, that I was safe. Sam rubbed my shoulder as he passed me to get to Emily. As they hugged and kissed, I saw Paul still watching me, turning back to him I saw the weight in his eyes.

“Are you joining us?” I asked him, an olive branch being thrown in his direction.

He took a moment to process what I asked then silently nodded and sat a chair away from me, which did hurt. But I ignored it and looked to Sam and Emily who had both sat back down. Emily’s hand was once again in mine, Paul looked with an odd… jealousy? Till his eyes trailed up my arm to my neck, where the necklace laid. I’d worn it every day since the beach that I didn’t even think about it anymore.

“So,” Sam started, “there are some things we have to tell you, but I think it’ll be easier if we show you then explain.” Emily’s head snapped to him as Pauls hung in shame. He smiled at her reassuringly and guided us all to the garden where Jared and Embry were talking. They both greeted me with a relaxed voice I was deeply confused as to what was going to happen.

Sam and Paul stood slightly in front of me, Emily’s grip tightened as she held onto my arm. Without warning Jared had… disappeared? And there was a wolf in his place. I looked in frozen shock to Embry who was grinning ear to ear and then his body contorted itself into another oversized wolf. Both started chasing each other and I couldn’t find it in myself to be scared. Instead, I found it hilarious, two boys had just turned into great big wolves, and I was worried about my friend not liking me anymore! All my problems felt so small as I watched them both. Emily pinched me, whipping my head to her in pain I asked her what’s wrong.

“What is wrong? What is wrong! They just shifted into wolves and you’re acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world!” She yelled, trying to grasp anything from me.

“Let’s go inside.” Sam said, leaving Embry and Jared to playfight in the garden. Emily dragged me in, I couldn’t stop watching them. Enamoured by how small it made my problems feel. Everything had been feeling so all-consuming as I experienced every little emotion, it was awesome to feel so insignificant.

“How familiar are you with the tribe’s history?” Sam asked, trying to read me as we sat back in Emily’s kitchen. I finally turned away from the wolves in the garden to face him.

It all hit me, everything Paul had told me growing up and Quil had been telling me before the beach. About the vampires, about the three bloodlines that became protectors. Quil was in that bloodline. So was Jake. Fuck.

“I know a fair bit.” I said. The next ten minutes were spent by Sam monologuing everything they knew so far but I could tell he was leaving something out. Something I knew that I knew. Paul or Quil must have mentioned it. After he had finished, I sat processing, knowing there was something else. The leaches. Was it just the one Sam had mentioned. Oh god. I dropped the glass of water I was holding, Paul caught it.

“The Cullen’s.” I breathed, looking at Sam and Paul in horror.

“You caught that quicker than I thought you would,” Sam laughed, “the treaty doesn’t allow us to tell people what they are.”

“I sat next to them in classes… Bella dated one!” silence. “She knew?” I was bewildered. She knew that Edward Cullen was an ancient old man murderer and dated him? What is wrong with her. I can’t judge her completely, as gross and weirdly necrophiliac as that is, I didn’t know her story. I’m glad Sam warned me that she wasn’t telling me everything.

“Does she know about you guys?” Sam shook his head.

“Only the people in this room, Jared and Embry and the tribe’s elders know. Its safer that way.” I nodded. Embry was 17. He must’ve been so scared.

Suddenly it hit me how cruel I’ve been to Paul; Sam had explained the gag order he’d put on Paul. Thinking about him, I knew there was something else, but I couldn’t help but just feel horrible for how I acted. The way I spoke about him to Quil, not meaning a single word but loving how good it made me feel. Without looking at him I let go of Emily’s hand and held his. He squeezed in and I could practically feel the smile radiating of him. I knew I shouldn’t feel too bad for how I acted; I didn’t know. But I wish I did. Sam explained lightly how his transformation was, how painful and terrified he was. I didn’t want to imagine a similar story leaving Paul’s mouth.

“I’m thankful you told me but why exactly are you telling me?” I asked, Paul stiffened, my thumb absent and idly ran circles around the back of hand as I stared at Sam. He shifted uneasily under my gaze. Which felt wrong, Sam was never uncomfortable. What was he avoiding? What am I forgetting?

A ring ran through the silent kitchen, and I dropped Paul’s hand to look at my phone. Jakes name read across the screen, which was weird. Jake never called me. He texted me when he was picking me up to come hang out and that was it. It’d been radio silence on both ends since I had that argument with Quil.

“Erm, I’m gonna get this.” I went outside to Emily’s front porch rather than the open garden.

“Jake?” I asked to the empty phone line.

“Hello?” He panted; his breaths disjointed.

“Jake what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, something-” he was cut of by a pained groan. “Somethings wrong.” He sounded like a child, one who couldn’t understand the pain of a broken arm or where a relative had gone and why they wouldn’t come back.

“Jake? Is Quil there?”

“No, I just got back from the movies with Bella.” He screamed again. Then began pleading with me. I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly two wolves ran past me into the Woodline, I turned back to see Sam telling Paul and Emily something as he shifted into the clearly biggest wolf.

“Listen to me okay. Deep breaths Jake, help is coming. You just gotta keep calm. Please, okay?” I asked, figuring out what was going on. Jake was shifting. I was panicking and felt like crying at his screams of pain.

“How are you feeling?” a pained yell was all I got in reply, Emily came to the porch behind me and put a hand to my back, ‘keep going’ she mouthed.

“Focus on- Bella! Think of her okay. Bella she’s going to be an anchor for you. Think about her okay. What shirt was she wearing today?” I asked keeping my voice as calm and steady as I could.

“She was wearing-” another scream through gritted teeth.

“Focus.”

“a green jacket, and a white blouse.” I heard crashing through the call, Sam’s voice, more screaming. I hung up the phone. This was too much. Too soon. Emily’s hand ran up and down my back, I was breathing heavily. I only found out about this an hour ago, how was this happening to Jake? Bella had once called him “earthbound sun” and now all I was hearing was his screams of pain playing on repeat.

“Everything will be okay.” She whispered, taking me upstairs into a bedroom. The walls were wooden, and the large bed was plush, and it smelt of lavender when I sat on it. Emily leant in front of me, both my hands in hers as we breathed together, she must’ve gone threw this a few times now. I couldn’t even pinpoint why I was so worried. The idea of Jake or any of them making a mistake and Paul getting hurt was eating me up. As my eyes fell into Emily’s and my breathing matched hers, I remembered the last bit of the story Paul told me years ago.

We were 15, sat cross legged on his lawn. I was making daisy chains as he told the legends to me. He blushed as he mentioned imprinting. The two souls who were destined to meet brought together by fate. How the shifter devotes themselves to their imprint even at the cost of themselves. At the time we both couldn’t comprehend the power of it, we thought it was ludicrous. And it was, a complete lack of agency. But in a selfish way, it was fantastical. My breathing was normal, and Emily sat next to me.

“Did Paul… did he imprint on me?” I asked quietly, scared if I said it any louder id be ridiculed. Emily didn’t say anything, she just squeezed my hands gently.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight? I have some spare pyjamas; I can wash your uniform for tomorrow.” She asked, eyes searching my own. Nodding I waited as she left the room. She told me to start getting changed as she left, stripping down to my underwear I became oddly aware of how insane this was, but I trusted Emily. And I knew now, I was safe. She came in holding a brown tank top and white shorts, they were so soft as I put them on. I was still dazed as the panic left my system; every movement was a cloud in my mind.

“Would you like to join me?” she asked, as I lifted my head up in confusion she continued “I’m going to watch a film, we can watch it together, if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” I replied, Emily put my clothes in the wash with some of her own and we got comfy on the sofa, I’d learnt the room with the lavender smelling bed was a guest room, and I was welcome to stay over whenever. Emily’s room was just down the hall. Her Gran had left her this house and she spent two years renovating it. She always made sure anyone was welcome here. I texted my parents to let them know I wouldn’t be home tonight, they told me to stay safe and call them if something is wrong. I was an adult, and I knew they liked knowing I was okay.

“Paul stays over most nights,” she said, braiding my hair, “but he sleeps on the couch. I can’t get him to take a room.” I was laying half on her chest half on her the sofa. I felt like a child. It was the most comforting experience of my life. We watched 2005 Pride and Prejudice. Laughing and swooning the whole time. We cried at the love in the film, the hand moments making us kick our feet, giggling. It was relaxing, to be with a friend. One that wasn’t hiding anything. I guess I would be the friend that was hiding something now to all my friends, to Jess, Bella, and Angela. But I couldn’t dwell on that. I told Emily about how I was feeling with Bella, and she told me about Leah, my stomach dropped when she told me Sam gave her that scar.

“I couldn’t be angry at him, what happened to him, to all the boys, it takes away their agency in emotional moments. I forgive him.” She told me, watching the film. Like this was second nature. Merely an afterthought. I knew I was safe here but was that just hysterics? Was I in danger and too naive to notice? No. Sam and Paul care for me. But Sam loves Emily? No. I reassure myself as I fall into a drowsy slumber as Emily ran her fingers through my hair. Sam can control it, so can Paul and Jared and Embry and Jake will be able to.

Warm arms lifted me, I felt the soft plush of the bed beneath me. I wanted to grab onto to the body holding me, my eyes wouldn’t open but I tried. A light chuckle sifted through the air as I finally let go.

A pink sunrise fell over me. I was drenched in the colours. Walking through the house I saw Paul, asleep on the sofa. The pink and purple began to fall onto him, he shifted awake as I made my way to the kitchen.

“Did I wake you?” I froze, looking at him through sleep festered eyes. He shook his head, smiling. We made coffee and cereal in silence, I the coffee and Paul the cereal. As we ate, I asked about Jake.

“He’s better now, the first shift is always the worst. What you did on the phone really helped.”

“All I did was keep him talking till you guys got there,” I said, finishing my cereal.

“He mentioned you called Bella an anchor, that helps more than you know.” He was looking at me intently. Suddenly I remembered my conversation with Emily last night.

“Paul…” Emily and Sam walked in, laughing with each other. I didn’t want to ask Paul with others around. He seemed brighter though, maybe he’d finally had a full night of sleep. Sleep, id fallen asleep with Emily on the couch and woken up in bed. Looking back at Paul, he was already watching me, waiting. “Did you take me to bed last night? You could’ve just woken me.” I laughed, trying to play off my feelings.

Sam laughed, sitting down with a coffee, “You were both sound asleep when we got back, no use waking you.” Emily looked at me, asking if id said anything, lightly shaking my head I pulled myself away from the conversation as they updated Emily on Jacob. From the window I saw the orange sun dance across the green summer leaves, sway through the crisp morning grass. The sun had risen by now, but the early morning was still prevalent in its colourful glory.

Sam called my name, pulling me out of my thoughts. “When do you start work?”

“9am,” I lied. Well, it wasn’t an actual lie, but I had decided I wasn’t going to go to work today, Henry had been telling me I need to take advantage of the paid sick days we get, so today I will. I need to process what the hell just happened. Alone. As much as I want to be here, I don’t know how much more I can handle. Sam had told us he hadn’t expected Jake to shift so soon and Quil’s grandfather has noticed he has a fever. It’s happening too fast and is still don’t really know why I am involved. Expect I do, which makes it so much worse. I would get dropped of at work, and then catch a bus to First Beach, which yes was counter intuitive, but it felt wrong to tell the people who immediately accepted me I didn’t want to be around them right now. I’d tell them id get a ride home from Henry and just walk back home. No, I shouldn’t walk. I promised Sam I wouldn’t walk. I’ll get the bus home or ask Bella as awkward as it might be.

Paul eyed me, brow furrowing. Sam and Emily didn’t notice but I couldn’t help feeling like Paul could read my mind. It feels weird being known so well. I sat with them for an hour or so before going to get a shower and then get dressed, Emily had layed my clothes on my bed while I was in the shower, and I suddenly felt insanely sick at the thought of lying to her.

Wandering back into the kitchen I saw Paul wearing worker pants that were just wow. I looked away before he caught my gaze. My heart beating in my throat.

“Where are you working?” I asked, he was looking for a job before all of this.

“Sam’s construction, he let Jared and I join after we shifted, he runs the business you know?” he said looking at my clothes. Wide legged white pants and black shirt, I was holding my apron, the ugly thing.

“Actually, Sam’s gone in early, so can I drive you to work?”

I nod, grabbing my bag and kissing Emily’s cheek goodbye as she started working on a wooden chair. Emily sold wooden furniture, I made sure to make note of that since my parents were looking at getting a new kitchen done. As we left, I noticed Sam had taken Emily’s truck and left his own for Paul. Fuckers had planned this.

“you’re a horrible liar, you know.” Paul said as we drove away from Emily’s. Is he psychic? “Sam told me you normally finish early on Wednesday’s, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. I finish at 12, i'll pick you up and explain everything.” I decided to play dumb.

“I thought you explained everything?” his laugh echoed in the car.

“We both know you’re too smart to think that.” The conversation ended, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not the same feeling as when Sam drove me, this was new.

“You can meet Henry when you pick me up.” I added, laughing at the thought.

“Who?” Paul said, the familiar jealousy peaking in his voice.

“Oh, he’s a real catch, total ladies’ man. I have a conspiracy that we’re psychically linked.” I said nonchalantly, absolutely doing it on purpose.

“That’s cool.” He said, sharply. These three hours were gonna go smoothly.

And they did. I was so excited for Paul to come pick me up I was practically jumping the whole three-hour shift. Henry had been side eyeing me all day, possibly worried I was on drugs or something.

“So, Paul’s going to pick me up and I’d like for you to meet him.” I told Henry as we stocked the shelves, or as I stocked them, and he micromanaged me.

“Eh okay.” He grumbled, I smiled, excited.

As 12 came I was practically glued to the window. Seeing Sam’s truck pull up my chest had a weight lifted off that I didn’t know was there. Pauls stocky figure walked up to the front door, and I beckoned him over to where I stood.

“Where’s this Henry then?” he asked, trying to seem calm.

“This way!” he must’ve been taken back by my excitement as he gasped slightly as I dragged him to the back of the store. “Henry! This is Paul.”

I watched as Pauls deflated face turned quickly into annoyance and relief as he saw Henry, who looked him up and down, grumbled and asked him if he could pick up some boxes for him. Paul agreed, but it didn’t feel like he had much choice in the matter. After ten minutes of Paul moving boxes around for Henry, I finally got him away, saying goodbye we left the store.

“You minx.” He laughed, opening my door for me.

Laughing I asked him what he was talking about.

“All morning. All morning! I spent worrying some hot bachelor called Henry had stolen your heart! Jared was getting annoyed at how pissy I was acting!” he whined, driving to LaPush.

We made it to first beach without Paul ripping my head off from annoyance. I tried not to dwell too hard on his blatant admission to his jealousy. But it made my head spin.

But he went silent as we walked to the rocks on the southside of the beach. Whatever he was about to tell me was very serious, and I was ready to hear. As we sat down, he looked at the necklace I was wearing, the citrine he bought me.

“You know when I bought you that necklace, I had no idea how beautiful it was.” He said, slowly looking up into my eyes.

“What do you mean? The lady handed it to you, I saw you look down at it.” I asked, searching his eyes for whatever he was trying to tell me.

“What do you remember about imprinting?” he asked, his hand lightly holding onto mine, the other splayed against the rocks. He took me off guard which must be visible on my face as he laughed at my expression.

“I remember you telling me about the imprint who saved the tribe from the vampires by sacrificing herself.” It was a harrowing tale, one that even as children Paul and I treaded on lightly.

“Uh huh, anything else?” he probed.

“I know how the elders described the imprint to feel.” At his silence I continued “that the universe centres around them,” I was whispering to him now, “that it is a love of the souls, bonded and combined.” He nodded.

“Anything else?”

“Paul why are you asking me this?” dread filled me, what if he had imprinted on someone else, I would respect it and understand but telling me like this had to be some form of torture. Deep down I knew that wasn’t the case.

“I imprinted on you.” My head whirled. Everything else became singular as I looked at Paul Lahote who became a multitude. “I was scared I’d imprint on someone else, and it’d be me loosing my agency in life you know,” I did, it was what I was worried about. “But I imprinted on you, at the beach. And I’ve always been in love with you. When we were kids and you would always climb the highest tree, never scared if you fell. When we’d braid each other’s hair. It’s always been you, even the fates agree.” The wind was knocked out of his lungs as I practically jumped onto him. My arms around his neck, his around my waist.

I pulled away. Remembering how this conversation started. “What did you mean, when you said you didn’t know how beautiful the necklace was?”

“That’s the other thing, turns out when we shift for the first time, we go colourblind.”

“What?”

“Wolves, they are naturally colourblind, Sam thinks that’s why we lose it, Jared and I used to think it was just another way the fates could steal life from us.” I listened intently. “That was until Sam imprinted on Emily. He said it was the most overwhelming experience of his life, not only because of the horrible family drama but because it was the first time in months, he had seen colour. We realised then that the only way we could see truly again was when we imprinted. You have to understand how terrifying it was after we’d first shifted, I thought I was dying” He took a deep, steadying breath. “After I first shifted you sent me a picture, do you remember?”

“Not really.” I admitted.

“It was of that cloud with the colours on it.” I nodded, remembering. It was a pileus cloud I’d seen in my back garden; he pulled out his phone. Scrolling sheepishly past the texts from him asking to talk to me and then texts from me, begging for an answer. He landed on a picture I sent, on the pileus cloud, they have colours sitting on them, rainbows laying on the soft clouds of the sky. Had I been taking my sight for granted? Spending my whole life gazing while he had it stolen from him?

“I cried for hours when you sent me this, I couldn’t see it, Sam had told me to cut off all contact with you and all I needed was you to- I don’t know- explain the colours to me since I couldn’t see them.” He breathed heavily; I could see the anger weighing on his shoulders once more. I didn’t interrupt him, just placed a hand on his thigh as an attempt to soothe. He smiled gently at this, still looking at the cloud. “It was two days after I’d shifted for the first time, and I was always so overwhelmed. I kept snapping and shifting in a fit of rage.”

As he waited for a response from me, I finally formed a semi-coherent sentence.

“I would’ve done the same. I can’t imagine how it- losing that- I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s those bloodsuckers.” He laughed. Smiling at me. We spoke for what felt like hours, it probably was but I didn’t mind. “I’m sorry to unload all of this onto you. I didn’t want to drag you into it, but you have to realise you call the shots, all you.”

“Is this why Sam didn’t pick me up yesterday?” I asked, remembering the hasty text Sam had sent me yesterday afternoon.

“Yeah,” he blushed, “I got angry at him, and he spent the whole day trying to convince me.”

“Couldn’t he just demand it?” the authority Sam had over the boys couldn’t be questioned, but it was a natural thing to him I felt it too.

“Yeah, but I know that he wanted me to make the choice, you’re my imprint after all.” He smiled, putting a hair behind my ear.

The sun had begun to set when Paul and I stopped talking, we’d spoke for hours. Catching up on each other’s lives, I told him about my fight with Quil and how I was feeling about Bella, and he listened. He told me about his dad, who’d decided to go work down south for a few months, leaving Paul the house to himself. That even though he gets the entire one-story building to himself he prefers to stay at Emily’s, he’d always hated being alone. He watched the sun set and I watched him. How it reflected on his clear skin, how his short hair was growing back. He’d explained that they’d all cut their hair after their first shift as to now only be practical but because they were grieving, grieving themselves. Paul was growing his hair again, determined to have a piece of himself back again, the hair length only mattered on the first few shifts. No one was sure why.

Going back to Sam’s truck I hold onto Paul’s hand, pulling him to a stop halfway across the beach. Getting closer to him I felt the warmth radiate from him, he couldn’t help but become the sun. The confused look on his face amused me, as I pulled him in and kissed him. His hand let go of mine as he wove his arms around my waist. My hands going to his back and his hair. He didn’t drive back to Emily’s. We spent the night in his house, the blue walls of his bedroom were known better than my own. Making out on his bed I sat on his lap, pulling his shirt of and then my own he grinned up at me.

“You’re so beautiful.” I didn’t say anything as I unhooked my bra, his jaw dropped slightly, and I blushed. He pulled his own jeans off and then switched our positions, so I was on my back as he took my white trousers of, discarding them somewhere in the room. I felt his lips on mine again which stopped me from staring at his well-defined chest, my hands felt him completely. I reached into his boxers as he whined slightly into my mouth at my slow and teasing actions.

“Don’t play with me.” He whispered into my ears as he ripped his boxers off, slowly taking my underwear off. As I felt him align himself, I looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but love.

Three weeks had passed since I found out about Paul’s imprint. Summer had begun to spread itself thinly and form into fall. I’d spoken to Quil, but he could tell I was hiding something. Especially since Jake had abandoned him without word and so did I. I knew he wanted to be apart of whatever was going on, but we all hoped he would never have to know, never feel the pain they all went through.

I spent most nights at Emily’s and some at Pauls but few and few at home. I wasn’t sure why my parents trusted my choices so much, but I figured they trusted Paul and I’d been a well-behaved teen. They did, however, begin to question why Bella Swan was constantly coming over asking for me. I couldn’t tell her. I still wasn’t over her not telling me anything. But Jake had ghosted her, just after I did. After the Cullen did. She had other friends, but it felt like a really shitty thing to do, I knew if I saw her, I’d just tell her everything. Even if she wouldn’t do the same for me.

I was at Emily’s when Embry, Jared, and Bella Swan herself came into the kitchen. She looked at me in shock and I gestured to the seat beside me, she shook her head. As Emily and I were informed on how Bella found herself in this predicament I laughed at the thought of Jake and Paul fighting, it didn’t surprise me. But I was shocked at Bella slapping him, she defended herself explaining she was angry and didn’t know we’d made up at this point. She didn’t know much. Jared told her that the pack was faster and better than the leaches, Bella seemed to feel more comfortable.

Sam, Jake, and Paul came into the house, Bella seemed to stow herself away in the corner. Her face went bright red after Paul apologised to her and kissed me, Sam complimented how well she took seeing two men turn into wolves in front of her and she laughed it off.

“How are you feeling?” Paul asked as I climbed into bed beside him.

“Tired, Bella gave me a hard time about me ignoring her, she’s right I guess.” Facing him in bed I tried to savour how the moon bounced off him. How he seemed to glow in the blue moonlight. He disagreed, but I knew Paul was biased he’d never really trusted Bella.

“What about Quil have you made up your mind on what you’re going to do?” He asked, kissing my nose as he pulled me to his chest.

“I’m going to go to his house tomorrow. I can’t tell him anything, but I need him to know I’m still his friend and I still love him. He’s one of my closest friends, his love is tough but its true you know?”

“I know.”

“How are you feeling?”

“everything’s getting calmer, but the red leech is still circling, these hikers need to learn to stay on the trail for their own sake.” He laughed; it wasn’t a happy laugh but an exhausted one. “Plus, Quil really might shift soon, I’m not sure how I feel about you going to see him in person.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Doesn’t make me worry any less.” He was holding me so close, our legs intertwined.

“He knows me better than anyone, which is scary but I won’t talk to him about the fight it doesn’t matter to me anymore. I can’t not have him in my life, it feels so good to be known so well. And not in the way you know me,” I clarified, “he knows me in a way that is tried and true, its not as intimate as how you know me, Quil challenges me, I challenge him. I can’t stand ignoring him.”

Paul nodded, he understood. He just hoped he didn’t shift in front of me.

“I love you.” He whispered into my hair.

“I love you more.” I whispered back, falling into a perfect sleep.

“Are you happy being with Paul?” Quil asked, grey hoodie swamping his tall figure.

“Yes.” I replied, arms crossed over my chest.

“I’m not surprised.” He sighed. Then, crossing the front room he looked out of his front window. “You really hurt me, you know.”

“I know.”

“And you can’t even tell me why!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You, Embry and Jake can’t tell me a single thing!” he yelled, still not looking at me. I had prepared for this, for him to hate me. I just didn’t expect it to feel so horrible.

“I’m sorry, Quil, I really am.” He looked at me, eyes desperate.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered. Tears in my eyes I ran to him, colliding with his chest we both cried on each other. “Remember we’re not keeping score, no arguments-”

“No winners.” I finished; we didn’t keep score.

As he pulled away, we both wiped at the tears streaming down our faces.

“Lahote? Really?” he laughed; I punched him in the arm. “Ow! Okay, okay.”

For now, everything was okay. I could handle okay.

pauls pinterest board

an:// i hoped you all loved reading this as much as i loved writing it! you can see why its taken me so long to actually write this :') Tumblr always gets rid of my paragraph spacing it kills me:( the word doc for this fic is 19 pages long! this is the longest fic i've written, im very proud of it!! requests are open, take care of yourself. i love you- em x

@ribbons-in-your-hair @notperfect-justme @thebestrouge [you guys asked me to tag you if i wrote anything about this headcannon! i hope you enjoy it!]

#twilight #twilight saga #x reader #x you #twilight revival #paul lahote #new moon twilight #x y/n #twilight renaissance #twilight imagine #paul lahote imagine #twilight paul #twilight wolf pack #twilight wolves #paul lahote x reader #twilight fanfiction #uley pack

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 12 days ago

Text

A Quiet Neighborhood - Chapter 2

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader Words count: 4180 Rating: + 18, MDNI Tags: POV second person, reader is female with female genitalia, wears dresses, heels and a bikini, has hair that can be tied up in a bun/ponytail, no other description is given, she doesn’t blush, smut, angst, kissing, dirty thoughts, masturbation, use of a sex toy, mention of infidelity, kinda Desperate Housewifes coded (uh, don’t judge, I love it), easter eggs in secondary character’s names (so you can have fun guessing which series/film they come from 👀), neighborhood dynamics, Carol, Molly and Alice are there. Mention of food, alcohol consumption, mention of poker game, some reader's thoughts marked in italics, swearing, Dave is a fucking menace. This takes place right after Chapter 1. A/N: Dave is finally back! First of all thank you so much for the interest you have shown in this series, I didn't expect it and it made me really happy 🥹 I hope you like this chapter, I was planning to release it earlier but I struggled a little bit with my writing. English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistake. No beta, I reread it myself, I really hope it makes sense. I would particularly like to thank @arcanefox207 , @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape for their support, encouragement and kindness. Love you, girls ♥️

Chapter 1 | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Coming out of the bathroom everything feels too loud, ringing voice of people, music, clanging of glasses, it's all too much to bear with when all you need right now is silence to make up with your overwhelming feelings spinning in your head like a carousel gone wild.

“I need to get out of here” you think, heading toward the Horowitz' living room in brisk steps to retrieve your purse.

Jane stops you in the track "Hey, where were you? We're having margarita, would you like some?"

You see him. behind Jane’s shoulder, through the door to the outside. He's back in the garden to his wife, holding an arm around her waist with a relaxed expression on his face, as if nothing has happened.

"I-uh-"

"Just sip this time, don't throw it down like you did before" Jane looks at you amused "I don't want to hold your hair while you vomit in one of Walkers' fancy bathrooms"

You nervously laugh then you look at him again and it's infuriating, the way he just goes on with his life while you feel like you've been hit by a train.

Fucking worthy of an Oscar.

The temptation to go home takes you for a moment but then looking at him smiling seraphically you think, “Fuck it, I don't see why I should ruin my day for him.”

So you follow Jane into the garden to join the others.

“If he can play it cool I can too” you think ”nothing a nice margarita can't fix.”

You walk past him and see that he and his wife are talking to Edie and her new boyfriend.

He doesn't even look at you, as if you are back a figure in the background with the others.

Which actually makes sense; the opposite would be much stranger since in the eyes of everyone you are nothing more than mere neighbors.

“Dave, look, Carol left lipstick on your lips,” you hear Edie say giggling as you sit at the table with your friends, ”you two lovebirds, you're still so cute after so many years of marriage.”

You feel your heart jump into your throat but you try to maintain composure outside and greeting Susan and Emma that just arrived “fuck” you think, cursing Edie and her big mouth “Now she's going to realize it's not her lipstick, God, I'm so screwed”.

You talked to her before but now in your panic you can't even remember what lipstick she was wearing.

You smile quizzically at Gabby who hands you one of the margaritas a waiter just left at your table but you perk up your ears to catch whatever they're saying; for a moment it's all silent until you hear Carol's crystalline laughter.

You barely turn to observe them out of the corner of your eye as you take a sip of your cocktail and see that Carol is wearing a lipstick very similar to yours. You're not a church girl but right now you're literally praying that one stupid kiss doesn't make you the laughingstock of the neighborhood.

Damn you, Dave.

Carol pulls a tissue out of her purse and hands it to him.

Okay, she’s quiet. Or at least she seems to be.

And who would ever connect me and Dave anyway?

You shake yourself out of your thoughts when you hear Jane call your name “hey! are you still with us?”

You smile “yes, sorry, I was thinking about work, you know that presentation I have to give on Monday” and you squeeze into your shoulders “what were you saying?”

Jane rolls her eyes “ugh, work. I was saying we're meeting tomorrow afternoon at my house for poker, are you coming?”

“Of course I'm coming, and I plan to tear you all apart!”

Jane, Gabby, Susan and Emma all say in chorus “we'll see about that!”You laugh and sip on your margarita again trying to appease your nerves, the liquid slide cool down your throat and you savor the citrusy flavor on your tongue thinking "it's good. it's all good. I will cut that Dave bullshit out of my life and everything will be great"

The rest of the afternoon passes pleasantly, you drink another margarita while chatting with your friends, you grab some snacks from the buffet so you don't risk forcing Jane to hold your hair in the bathroom, and you feel like you have regained some mental stability.

Dave is still here, looking like the perfect picture of a man trying to spend quality time with his beloved wife.

They talk to neighbors, they laugh, she holds a hand in his tracing small concentric circles on his back.

All smooth, I can't believe it, you sigh as you finish your second margarita.

Ms. Horowitz goes between tables to tell you that anyone who wants can take advantage of the pool, all your friends thank her saying they will do so shortly, and you reply, “Oh,I don't have my bathing suit with me,” wondering if anyone has ever told you to bring it. From the way Jane looks at you with an amused expression you guess that yes, she had told you but you completely forgot in your frenzy to look good in front of Dave in your new shoes.

Being in a bathing suit in front of him is not something you could afford to contemplate and you can't do it now either so you try to shy away from her invitation as politely as you can, but Mrs. Horowitz presses you, “that's no problem, dear, we have dozens of bathing suits for our guests!”

“Of course. I forgot that if they wanted to they could swim in a pool full of money like Scrooge McDuck.”

At this point you can do nothing than accept.

Carlos and Rafael managed to disengage under the guise of joining Mr. Horowitz and other neighbors in the living room to watch whatever is going to be on the sports channel. And these are the moments when you wish you were someone who knows about sports.

“You can go to the pool house and change there, you will find swimsuits and towels in the closet,” Mrs. Horowitz chirps.

And so you do, you head for the pool house teetering on your new heels, thinking maybe you shouldn't swim at all because you're feeling a little tipsy.

“God, I really don't feel like it,” you say to Susan who is beside you, and she replies, ”oh come on, it will be fun!”

You already hear some splashing coming from the pool as you enter the little house.

It is luxuriously furnished like a real outhouse, there is a huge bed, a small kitchen, and a door on the right side that leads to a bathroom. Someone could actively live in here like a king.

Susan opens the closet that takes up the entire wall in front of the bed and finds dozens of bikinis and one-piece suits. “Jesus, they could open a swimsuit store with all this stuff.”

You laugh, tapping her on the side “make room” Susan pinches your arm “rude!” she sneers.

Emma, Jane and Gabrielle laugh. You choose a swimsuit as they take turns to change into the bathroom.

____________________________________

You walk out of the pool house wearing a black bikini, holding the towel wrapped around you. You chose the simplest model you could find that wasn't a one-piece swimsuit, because you always thought you looked like your grandmother in those.

You don't want to stand out but neither do you want to feel ridiculous at the idea of Dave seeing you.

You hope he has already gone home until you reach the pool and see him diving off the small diving board located on one of the short sides.

By now it's evening so several strings of small lights have been lit and hung directly above the pool like small fireflies floating in the air and scattered over the buffet and beverage gazebos.

There are also several garden street lamps around, but the small lights create an enchanting atmosphere.

Mr. and Mrs. Horowitz really know how to throw a great party.

Dave's back looks golden as you watch him disappear into the water, his muscles outlined by the play of light and shadow that refracts against them. You bury a howl inside as you steal a glance at his butt swaddled deliciously in red swimming shorts.

You sit on a lawn chair, fully intending to stay there, while your friends put their towels down and go for a dip in the pool.

It's still warm for fall, today in particular, so you don't mind the thing itself, but showing yourself to Dave like this? That's a whole other matter.

The whole neighborhood is there but you literally feel like only he can see you, because that's the only look you care about and might feel judged by.

Your friends wave at you from the other side of the pool, even calling your name so you listlessly drop the towel on the deck chair and walk to the edge, wetting your feet in the cool water.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Dave go underwater, you follow his movements, and see him come up right in front of you.

“Fuck” you think

“Hi,” he says in a low voice as you wonder where his wife is. You answer him by mumbling a “hello” as you look around for her. Carol is sitting on a lawn chair, wearing a white one-piece bathing suit and matching sarong, and sipping cocktails with one of your neighbors. She is quite distant and seems very engrossed in the conversation, so you finally allow yourself to look at Dave.

He's still in the water, leaning against the edge below you.

He runs a hand through his hair to pull it back, small droplets sliding down his perfectly chiseled jaw to the column of his neck and down his broad chest until they die at the water's edge.

Your friends call your name loudly as he rests both hands on the edge and rises effortlessly beside you. You don't look at him, you keep your gaze fixed on Jane and the others as you hear the sound of water sliding over his body and falling back into the pool, a few drops hitting you in the process. He is beside you, completely wet, wearing only shorts. You’re petrified, trying to govern your emotions and especially your facial expressions “stay calm stay calm stay calm” you repeat to yourself as you hear his voice whisper “you look so fucking sexy in that bikini. I wish I could fuck you right here right now” just before he walks over to the loungers.

He didn't turn around, he didn't make eye contact with you, no one would say he even noticed you, and he spoke so softly that no one could have heard him but you. You heard him loud and clear, and his rough voice went and settled directly between your legs on your wet pussy.

You hastily dive into the pool feeling your cheeks on fire.

“Fucking Dave and his fucking flirting.”

_________________________________________

First thing you do when you come home is to take off your shoes throwing on the carpet in your living room.

By now you are no longer tipsy; swimming in the pool has definitely helped you get sober again.

And Dave.

Dave who ignored you pretty much the rest of the evening but infiltrated your brain like a disease.

You know you can't get your hopes up, you know that this thing between the two of you will have no future, and you also know that you don't like being a home wrecker.

I am just an escape from his marriage, a sleazy adventure, a little toy to entertain him.

And yet, you still want more.

Your body unfortunately doesn't care about morality right now, it reacts to every image of him imprinted in your mind, Dave is Pavlov's bell and you are the drooling dog.

Lingering in fantasies about him hurts, but there is a desperate part of you that still feels his hips grinding against yours, the taste of his tongue, the warmth of his big hands on you.

And his body next to yours when he got out of the pool, how you could smell the scent of his skin mixed with chlorine, how you could still feel the warmth of his body despite being completely wet, water dripping down his legs pooling at his feet.

You can stay here a little longer, just a little while longer without hurting anyone, before you turn the page.

You shuffle into your room with your head in the clouds, open your night stand drawer almost without thinking, pull out your dildo and lie on the bed. You loop your dress around your waist without even bothering to take it off, just enough to get rid of your bra and your panties.

You let the dildo glide over your body, shivering at the feel of the cool plastic on your tits, brushing against your nipples.

The low rasp of his voice still in your mind, graveling like an echo in your brain “you look so fucking sexy in that bikini”

It was the first time you saw him like that, you happened to see some exposed skin as he mowed the lawn, even lifting up his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead once he was done but what you saw today? Nothing compares with it.

His fully exposed torso, the darting muscles of his back as he dove, how his arms flexed as he leaned over the edge of the pool. There is something obscene about seeing people completely wet, a primal instinct awakening, the water slipping and hugging the curves of his body, the droplets of water glistening on his skin, the wet shorts glued to his body that barely suggested the shape of him.

You shut your eyes and suddenly it’s his cock wiping on your hardened buds, tip slapping and teasing, brushing on your skin just right, red and swollen and already leaking.

You can think it’s real, it feels so real, his hand roaming on your body, pulling your dress up, get it out of the way to dispose of you as he wants.

Big strong hand gripping on your inner thighs, his fingers rising higher on your skin, making you whimper in anticipation.

Your cunt aching tremendously, unrestrained and starving.

His big cock grazing your swollen labia, parting them and then sliding entirely over your center, his tip slamming against your clit, mingling your essences in an overwhelming arousal that runs through you all.

And then he pushes inside, deeper and deeper in the most intimate part of you.

And that’s it.

You are fucking away all your bad omens, lying to your hands sinking into the flesh of your thighs, your heart pounding behind your ribcage, your hips swaying against the rubber dildo, pushing them away to suppress them. All frenzy and delirium as it is his cock kissing your cervix, stretching your walls, pulsing and dripping inside you.

You can’t stop, angling the dildo so that it brushes against your swollen clit pumping incessantly into your core, creaming the entire length of your dildo, your legs obscenely spread, your body torn apart by every thrust, your hungry pussy sucking in, contracting, devouring every inch without finding peace.

"I wish I could fuck you right here right now"

Your free hand rises on your tit, your fingers latched on your pebbled nipple, pulling and twisting until you feel your brain leaking from your pussy.

Your orgasm breaks inside you, vibrating in and out of your body, quivering on your sweaty skin, taking your breath away. You come thinking of him completely wet from head to toe on top of you, your flesh colliding, your bodies merging, in a desperate, relentless rush toward the brink.

And you can't get enough, so you don't stop as the first orgasm washes over you, your swollen, slippery cunt keeps frantically gripping around the dildo, your hands keep thrusting it in, torturing your nipples, it's like you're trying to quench your thirst once and for all.

The way he ignored you afterward makes you want to have him even more, to break through his stoicism and trigger an outburst in him as much as your own.

It's twisted, wrong, immoral and you don't care a bit.

You fall into a deep sleep, having come repeatedly, Dave being all that's left in your head.

______________________________________

Morning light flutters on your eyelids forcing you to open your eyes to another day.

You grunt, feeling your incredibly aching pussy, and realize your dildo is still inside you.

The stretch is here to remind you your guilt, the frenzy that took you last night, the feeling of being just one inch away from slipping into something dangerous.

You pull it out cautiously, feeling your essence slip out of you, soaking your inner thigh, the sticky mess of your desire for him dribbling silently over your skin.

Your pussy tightens around nothing, pulsing to the void, deprived of something, swollen and tried.

The dress from the night before is still crumpled around your body, crumpled and damp with your sweat and arousal at the hem. You get out of bed feeling like a rag doll, drag yourself into the bathroom and look in the mirror. Mascara has run down your cheeks, your lipstick smudged, an exhausted and defeated expression on your face.

You look like a total disaster, matching your feelings.

This morning, in the sunlight, you are furious with yourself. Why did you let this married man condition you so much? You spent $350 on a pair of shoes just because he told you they'd fit you, what the fuck is wrong with you?

You have to stop before it takes a turn for the worse and you find yourself crying for him.

There's no way it will end well.

You take off your makeup, take a shower, and change into a pair of sweatpants and an old Pearl Jam T-shirt you got at a concert a million years ago.

You clean and tidy your house, then Jane calls to have your confirmation to meet at 3 p.m. at her house.

Having a fun afternoon with your friend will help, you think.

You don't look out the window toward his house even once, you simply pretend it doesn't exist.

After changing into a pair of jeans and a white top, you head towards Jane’s house at the end of the road, your eyes straight to her house without your usual wandering and sneaking through your neighbor’s windows.

You are able to shut down your brain concentrating on poker and your friend and it all goes smooth until you hear Susan say, “Did Edie call you to gossip about the Yorks?” And you all turn to look at her, you with your heart leaping in your chest like an acrobat.

“Really? Was it only me who had this pleasure?” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Why, what happened?” Jane asks as she shuffles the cards for the next hand.

“According to her, Dave has an affair. But you know how Edie is, I mean-”

"And how can she say that?" Gabby widen her eyes, getting all excited. You love her dearly but she’s almost as gossipy as Edie sometimes.

"She says Dave disappeared at the party and then came back with some lipstick on his mouth."

“What?” you all exclaim, as you try with all your might to feign surprise.

“Yes, and then she says Carol pretended nothing happened but according to Edie there is something going on because you know - she says that lipstick seemed slightly different from the one his wife was wearing”

“Well that also depends on lips natural color,” Jane tries to intervene, usually she's the one who instead tries to quell the rumors. You are thankful that she maintains her attitude even now, all while your other friends cut her off squeaking “oh my God!” And Gabby, who sits right next to you put a hand on your arm “Jesus, can you believe that?”

“Actually no” you shrug “I mean…they seem so close-hearted”

“Well, honey, I'm sorry to tell you but not all that glitters is gold” Gabby scoffs.

“Even if it was true - and with Edie I wouldn't put my hand on it because she was really tipsy and then well...she's Edie” Jane admonishes “it's none of our business”

“God, he would be such a scam though. And to think I kinda considered him incorruptible” Emma sighs and you all nod.

You never mentioned your crush, not even to the friends.

No one ever saw you two talk for more than a few minutes and only of mundane arguments, totally out of courtesy and being good neighbors.

Fuck. It has to end before anyone finds out.

The bullet missed you by a whisker but you know you can't play with fire.

“Then you wonder why I haven't found another boyfriend yet!” You playfully snap, just to look more unsuspicious.

You hate lying to your friends, but you are relieved when you see them nodding.

Jane urges, “Come on let's play, we've talked enough about this.”

The afternoon flows nicely, Jane and Gabi argue over points as usual, you all laugh, and by the end you feel better, really better.

Yesterday was crazy, but I can get through it, you think.

When you get home you order a pizza and eat it on the couch watching a horror movie. You don't think about him for the rest of the evening, until you get under the covers and a flashback of him pushing you against the bathroom tiles flashes before your eyes. You squeeze them hard, trying to banish the image from your mind.

________________________________________

Monday morning at the office hits you in the face, you have a lot of work to do but you've never been so happy to keep busy so you don’t complain. Anything goes as long as you don't think about him.

Your agency has just acquired a big client for whom you'll have to manage a marketing campaign, there's a lot of pressure but by the end of the morning you feel like you and the rest of the team have come up with the right idea, which makes you relieved.

At lunchtime you go out to get a sandwich. It's a beautiful sunny day, there’s a little wind that caresses your face and moves the tree canopies along the road. You're glad you've been able to focus, you really care about doing a good job and making a good impression on your demanding boss in light of a promotion you'd like to get.

You will slowly return to your usual life and what happened will remain a sporadic episode without consequences. That's the best thing for everyone.

You walk into the diner and get in line to order a sandwich.

You greet Sarah, the girl at the counter, with whom you've been chatting since the first day you were hired at your agency.

You order the usual and come out humming and feeling some lightness at last.

You walk the short distance to your office, and the moment you push the door open you feel a gaze on you, like in déjà vu. You turn to look at the street, and see no one, just a black car that takes off quickly, speeding down the empty road. For a moment it looks like Dave's. You blink your eyes and shake your head, feeling lost.

It's like you've taken one step forward and three steps back.

It will take much longer to eradicate him from your mind, and living in the same neighborhood across the street from each other certainly won't help.

You come home tired, you managed to do a good job despite the thought of Dave that kept pounding in your head all afternoon, at least you can be satisfied with that.

You park in your driveway and out of the corner of your eye you see Carol loading suitcases into a cab.

Shit, what's going on? Was Edie right? Did they really have a fight? Is she leaving him?

You start toward your door but then stay on the porch pretending to rummage through your purse for your keys.

You see Dave leave the house with his daughters, he helps Carol with the heaviest suitcase and they briefly say something you can’t hear. You hold your breath for a signal, something that will let you know what they’re doing, but it all seems neutral, calm, no drama, no screaming fight in the middle of the street. Typical of them, you think, they would never do that in front of their daughters anyway.

Molly and Alice hug their father and happily get into the taxi, sitting in the back, Alice holding a doll which she places next to her on the seat.

Carol kisses Dave on the cheek and climbs into the cab with the girls. As you watch them leave your mind is filled with question marks, it didn't seem like a traumatic departure but you know they are the best at keeping up appearances. And deep down, what do you really know about Carol and Dave? What really happens when the doors are closed and they are far from the rest of the world? Are they really the perfect family they pretend to be?

Dave is on the sidewalk waving to the cab pulling away, as soon as it's far enough away he turns to look at you and winks.

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