#i know i will lose followers for this i’m sorry i just have to SPEAK MY TRUTH!!!

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hold My Hand, Part 2

TFW 2.0 & Winchester!sister

Requested by @casmustdiee and Anonymous

Synopsis: Jack tries to get you used to being back in the bunker, but things keep going wrong.

Warnings: angst, some torture, continuity errors, only half proofread

A/N: guys I’m still alive!

“You want anything to eat?”

You had been slowly emerging more and more from within yourself after the boys had brought you back from Asmodeus. Still, you rejected Dean’s offer of food with a tiny shake of your head.

“I’ll take a sandwich,” Jack piped up, and Dean was about to tell him to make his own sandwich when Jack gave him a hard stare. Dean had no clue what the look meant, but given that Jack had been the one to get you out of your room and talking, Dean had no choice but to trust that the kid knew what he was doing around you. So Dean made the sandwich, and he watched as Jack cut it in half, eating one half before very deliberately pushing the plate away—towards you—as if he didn’t want it anymore.

Dean caught on right away.

“What, you’re just gonna let that go to waste?” Dean asked.

Jack shrugged. “You can have it.”

Dean shook his head. “Your taste in sandwiches is crap, you and Y/N are the only ones I know that actually consider peanut butter and banana a delicacy.”

“They’re great, right Y/N?” Jack asked, earning a nod from you.

“Whatever.” Dean through his hands up. “I’m gonna make me a real sandwich.” He purposefully turned his back to you, not wanting you to feel stared at.

“I’m gonna go find Sam,” Jack said. “He might need help with research.” He hopped off his chair and left the room, leaving you almost alone with your half a sandwich.

By the time Dean had finished making his food and turned around, Jack’s sandwich was completely gone, and you looked a little brighter than you had a minute ago.

…

It was Jack’s turn to need help adjusting, and you were there every step of the way—or at least you tried to be. It was hard, since you were also trying to make sure Sam was ok after Michael disappeared, taking Dean with him.

“I thought you were training with Bobby,” you said when Jack all but stumbled into the kitchen.

“I was,” he huffed. “I just…I can’t seem to get it right. It was all so much easier with my powers.” Jack shook his head. “I just feel useless.”

“I know what you mean.” You swallowed.

“What?” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not useless.”

“Lately I am.” When Jack continued to stare at you with that questioning gaze, you seemed to freeze up, unable to finish your thought.

Jack stepped closer to you, taking your hand in his own and giving you a bright smile.

“You’re not useless,” he said again.

You seemed to draw strength from his hand in yours.

“Dean’s always been there for me,” you began. “Always. For anything I’ve ever needed. And now…now he’s being dragged around by some archangel, and I feel like I can’t do anything to help him.”

“It doesn’t just fall on you,” Jack said. “We’re all going to find him. I just know it.”

…

“He’s gonna be ok, right?”

Your brothers couldn’t even look at you as you watched Rowena pack up her bag. You’d finally gotten Dean back, only for it to seem like you were now losing Jack.

“There’s nothing I can do.” Rowena glanced at you for a second before turning away. “I’m sorry.”

“But—but we have to do something—“ you started to follow Rowena as she turned to the door, but Sam stepped in your way. “We can’t let Jack die!” You tried to move around Sam, but he grabbed hold of your arms.

“I’ll talk to Rowena. I think you should stay with Jack,” he said.

A fit of coughing from Jack caught your attention, and you relented, going quickly to his side.

“You’re gonna be ok,” you promised. “We’re gonna fix you.”

Jack smiled at you and squeezed your hand, but he didn’t speak.

Dean followed Sam outside, unable to bear the scene any longer.

…

They couldn’t get you to leave Jack’s side. He’d been dead for hours, but you still wouldn’t leave.

Dean had seen you like this before—you’d been the exact same way when you were only three years old, and Sam had died for the first time.

Sam had seen it too, only a few short years ago, when Dean had died. He’d had to all but drag you away from the body.

“Hey, kid,” Dean began. You didn’t even look at him. “Kid, maybe you should—“

“I’m not leaving him alone.” Your voice was firm, and Dean noticed that your grip on Jack’s cold hand tightened. “He doesn’t like to be alone. I’m not leaving him alone.”

“Sweetheart—“

“Why couldn’t I—“ your voice caught. “Why couldn’t I save him? He needed me, and I couldn’t save him.”

Dean swallowed. “You…we did the best we could, kid.”

“But it wasn’t enough!” You finally tore your gaze away from your dead friend, and Dean’s heart broke all over again at the look in your eyes. “Jack saved me, and I let him die.”

“Hey.” Dean shook his head. “This is not your—“

“Dean.” Cas stepped into the room. “Sam just left. I don’t know why, but—“

“What?” Dean jumped to his feet. “We need to find him.”

He left with Cas on his heels. You could hear Dean arguing with him the whole way out of the bunker, but you still didn’t move.

“Jack—“ you took a deep breath, squeezing Jack’s hand and wishing he would squeeze back. “Jack, I just…I miss you. And I’m so sorry, and…and I just want you to come back, ok?

“I just want you to come back.”

…

You got your wish, even if it wasn’t in the way you expected. Jack was back, but he didn’t dare use his power at the risk of losing his soul.

You didn’t care. Power or no, Jack was your best friend. But things never stayed good for long. You guys still had to fight Michael.

And it wasn’t looking good.

“If I just had my powers, I could beat him. If I could use them—“

“Jack, if you use them you lose your soul.” You shook your head. “I just got you back. And I’ve seen what losing a soul does to people. I can’t go through that again. We don’t need you to fight all our battles, Jack.” You reached out and grabbed his hand. “We’re just glad you’re here with us again.”

Jack squeezed your hand, a fleeting smile crossing his face.

“Me too.”

…

“When I gave up Dean, you didn’t think to question why?”

Jack’s hand was firmly in yours, as if he knew your intentions. You’d just watched Dean go from your big brother back into the archangel that was stealing his body, and Jack knew you wouldn’t take it well. He was right. All you wanted to do was go to him, to shake him around until Dean came back, but Jack wouldn’t let go of your arm.

Michael and Sam were arguing, but Jack ignored them as he leaned forward and whispered in your ear.

“We’ll get Dean back,” he promised. “Just be patient.” Jack’s hand squeezed yours, and it felt like he was dragging you back down to earth and clearing your head from the clouds.

…

The fight was over quickly, although it left all of you bruised. But at least Michael was now in the angel cuffs and back in the bunker. He was surprisingly calm about being captured, but that didn’t keep him from threatening anyone near him.

It didn’t help that monsters would be banging down the door any minute, thanks to Michael’s control over them.

“I’ll watch him,” you told your brother. “You guys secure the bunker.”

“Be careful,” Sam said.

“With the chained up archangel?” You tried to look relaxed. “C’mon Sam, I’ve got the easy job here.”

It would’ve been easier if the archangel wasn’t wearing your brother.

…

“So they send their weakest link to watch the archangel.” Michael was doing your best to faze you, so you did your best to ignore him. “I think I should feel insulted.”

“And you think I care why?” You cursed the subtle way your voice shook, and hoped that Michael couldn’t hear it.

“If Dean was…here…I’m sure it would worry him.” Michael leaned forward as if sharing a secret. “He doesn’t think you’re a very good hunter.”

“And I should listen to you?” You scoffed, but you doubted your voice was as steady as you wanted it.

“Well, I am in Dean’s head. And he doesn’t think you can do it, he never did. After all, it’s not like you’re a real Winchester anyway.”

“Dean thinks that?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it.

A smile crept its way onto Michael’s lips, and he seemed suddenly more interested in you.

“What did you expect him to think? You’re not Mary’s daughter, you’re not his real sister. You’re not like Sam to him, you never have been.”

“I—“ your voice caught in your throat. You wanted to tell Michael that it wasn’t true. You wanted to say “screw you,” you wanted to say “Dean would never,” but your voice wouldn’t work.

“Hey!” Sam’s voice startled you, and his hand was suddenly on your shoulder. “That’s enough,” he barked at Michael. “Hey.” He looked back at you, his voice softening. “Why don’t you go hang out with Jack, I’ve got him for now.”

“Actually, that won’t be necessary,” Michael spoke up. “The plan has changed, and she’ll be going with me.”

“Excuse me?” Sam glared at Michael, unfazed. That is, he was unfazed…

Until Michael stood, dropping the angel cuffs to the ground.

“The rest of you I’ll leave to my friends outside.” Michael threw his hand out, sending Sam flying away from you. “But the girl…” Michael had a hold of your arm before you could back away. “You won’t have to worry about her anymore.”

…

In the blink of an eye, you had been taken from your home; you and Michael weren’t in the bunker anymore. You’d returned to the office building that he’d turned into his personal headquarters, only this time there were half a dozen monsters in the main room. You found yourself leaning away from them, until you realized that that meant you were leaning towards Michael. It was hard to see monsters and not natural gravitate towards Dean.

This isn’t Dean, you told yourself. And you can’t forget that for even a second.

“Sir.” A werewolf stepped closer to Michael. “I thought you were—“

“Just a little change in plans,” Michael said. “Your werewolves are still locked onto my previous location?”

“Yes sir,” he said. “They should be at the bunker any minute.”

“Good.” Michael nodded. “You may go. And take the rest of these—“ he gestured at the other monsters in the room “—with you. I have some things I need to take care of in here. Alone.”

“Is that a Winchester?” Another of the monsters was eyeing you hungrily. “Did you bring us a little snack?” He started to approach, but a single glare from Michael stopped him in his tracks.

“If I wanted you to eat her, I would’ve told you that. She’s mine, understand?” Once the monster nodded, Michael smiled sardonically. “Good. Now go.”

The monsters cleared out quickly, and soon you were left alone with the archangel that taunted you with your big brother’s face.

“What am I doing here?” You tried to force your voice to come out strong, but the self-satisfied smirk that came across Michael’s face as he looked down at you said that you’d done a horrible job at that.

“You know what I’m doing here, right?” Michael asked. You didn’t answer—you could tell it was a rhetorical question—but the pleased look in Michael’s eyes at your silence had you wishing you’d said something sarcastic, like Dean would have. “I’m building a better world,” Michael continued. “Humans have had their time in the sun, but they’ve never amounted to anything. It’s time they got knocked of their pedestal. That’s why I’m having my monsters kill and turn them.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you kept me alive,” you argued. Michael’s eyes flashed in anger at your interruption, but he continued anyway.

“You’re different than your brothers, and from the rest of those fools in the bunker. Jack is too powerful to bother with, and Cas and your brothers…they’re too stubborn. But you…you’re young. Moldable. I have a plan to make this world my own, with the monsters on top. But humans…I’m keeping a few alive. Some for the monsters to feed on. And some…some who I think could be useful to me. You could be useful, with some…modifications.”

“What modifi—“

Michael’s hand shot out and closed around your throat, and before you even knew it was there you felt your breath stop.

“The first improvement I plan to make is to shut. You. Up. You need to learn your place here.” The hand around your throat was pushing down, and you felt yourself fall to your knees under the pressure. “Your life is a privilege, not a right.” The vision of Michael above you was starting to go fuzzy, but you could still make out the coldness in his eyes. “And privileges can be taken away. Do you understand me?”

You nodded mutely, and the pressure on your throat disappeared.

“You are just an example of what all humans will be. Well, all the ones I allow to live. You exist to serve those greater than you. You exist to serve me.”

“My brothers—“ Michael glared at you, but he didn’t stop you, so you continued. “My brothers will stop you. And Cas and Jack, all of them, they can stop you.”

Michael smiled patiently. Mockingly.

“You don’t really believe that,” he said. “You know your little family back in the bunker is as good as dead. And Dean—“ Michael tapped his forehead “—is tucked away quietly. I have him under control.”

“They’re stronger than you think,” you snapped.

Michael smirked and patted your head. “That’s enough out of you.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but when you tried to speak it felt like your lungs caught on fire. You curled in on yourself, rubbing at your chest while the pain slowly faded.

“As I told you,” Michael began. “You exist to serve me. If you use your abilities in a way I don’t like, I can take them away. And I will make it hurt. Every. Time.”

You stared up at Michael, until suddenly your eyes started to sting.

“Don’t look at me,” Michael snapped. “Keep your eyes down.”

You dropped your eyes down and whimpered as the pain slowly faded away, but Michael had already turned his attention to the opening door.

“Sir.” A vampire was standing in the doorway. “The bunker’s fortifications are stronger than we thought. It may take days to get through.”

Michael gritted his teeth. “Fine. Just get it done.”

Michael noticed the monster staring at you. “I see you’ve noticed my girl. This is how all humans who aren’t killed or turned should behave. Ever silent, ever obedient. Understand?”

The vampire licked his lips.

“Would you mind if I had a taste?” He stepped closer to you. “After all, a Winchester—“

“Yes, I would mind,” Michael snapped. “If you want a human, go get your own. I’ve given you the world as your oyster. But the girl is mine. Now leave me.”

You kept your eyes glued to the floor as the door swung shut. You felt the toe of Michael’s boot push at your chin, tilting your head up and in Michael’s direction.

“You should be thanking me. It would be so easy for me to let them rip you to shreds.” Michael’s eyes flashed blue, and you felt your throat tighten up. “What do you say?”

“Thank…you…” you gasped, and Michael released his magic hold on your throat.

“You’re a fast learner,” he commended. “Keep it that way, and this will be a lot less painful for you.” Michael twisted his hand, and you felt as though your ribs were twisting around and stabbing your lungs, your heart, everything. “But it can’t be completely painless. If you want a good omelet, you have to crack a few eggs. And I’ve been looking forward to breaking you.”

…

You never thought that you’d associate the sight of your big brother with pain. It took less than two days with Michael to change that.

You didn’t know if your family was still alive. You didn’t know if you’d ever see them again. You didn’t even know if Dean was still around in Michael’s head, or if he could see what was happening to you. All you knew now was pain.

“What’s the situation at the bunker?” Michael was talking to one of his many monsters, but you didn’t dare look up; not even at the mention of your family. “Are they dead yet?”

“I’m afraid not sir. But my people have told me that they’re about to break through the door now that they’ve gotten through all the warding.”

“Good. Tell them to wait until I get there.” You felt Michael’s grace tugging at your neck—your cue to look at him. When you did, he grinned at you, flashing all thirty-two pearly white teeth in a way that Dean never would have. “You’re going to come with me to watch the show,” Michael said. “And then you’ll understand just how hopeless you really are.”

…

“Y/N!” Sam’s voice was the first thing you heard when the bunker door slammed shut behind you and Michael; he wanted to do the killing himself now that the monsters had broken in. It took every ounce of strength you had not to look up and run to your big brother. Instead, you stayed obediently by Michael’s side, your eyes trained on the back of his shoes.

“Oh, she’s mine now,” Michael chuckled. “But I’m a moment it won’t matter to any of you.”

“You had your chance to kill us.” Jack stepped suddenly out from the side hallway, effectively trapping Michael between him and Sam. “And you left. Why?”

“I wanted to get things settled with this sweet little sister of yours before the massacre began,” Michael said, a cocky smirk twisting his lips. “No need for her to get killed when she’s making such a good little slave.”

“Leave her alone!” Jack’s eyes flashed yellow as he took a step toward Michael.

“Jack don’t!” Sam shook his head, and Jack stopped.

“It doesn’t matter what you do at this point,” Michael said. “I told you the story ended with your deaths, and I meant it. You can’t stop me.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Sam’s face. “Don’t be so sure about that.”

You hit the ground hard when Jack tackled you out of the way. His place was immediately taken by Castiel, who rushed Michael. Michael, taken aback, rose his hands to fight Cas a split second too late. Cas grabbed hold of Michael’s wrist and slapped the angel cuffs on him.

“They’ve been re-warded,” Sam piped in. “They’re stronger than they’ve ever been. Oh, and that warding that your monsters thought they got through? Cas booted it up again the minute you stepped inside. Your cavalry isn’t coming. At least, not in time.”

Michael scoffed, “In time for what? You still have no way to kill me, or stop me.”

“Actually we do,” Cas said. “We’re gonna get inside your head, and Dean’s gonna kick you out.”

…

“We’re gonna get Dean back,” Sam tried to tell you as Cas started to hook Michael up to one of the Men of Letters’ machines, but you didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the ground.

You could practically feel Michael’s eyes boring into you, reminding you to do as you were told and keep quiet. You didn’t think he could do anything with the angel cuffs on, but you’d learned to never underestimate Michael’s ability to punish you.

And you’d learned to never disobey him.

Sam turned his attention back to Michael—he could only fight one battle at a time, and getting Dean back took precedence for now—but Cas’s attention was suddenly on you. He walked up to you, leaning down in a failed attempt to meet your eye.

“Are you alright little one?” He asked. No answer. “You’re safe now, he can’t use his powers with the cuffs on.” Nothing. Cas sighed. “As soon as we get Dean back, we’re gonna help you, ok? You won’t have to be scared anymore.” When you still didn’t reply, Cas hesitantly turned his back on you to return to Sam and Dean.

“Me and Cas are going in after him,” Sam said. “Jack, we need you to stay here in case those monsters come in. And—“ Sam glanced at you, but you barely seemed to register anything going on in the room. “And make sure she stays safe, understand?”

“Of course. I won’t let anything happen to her…to any of you,” Jack insisted.

…

“Y/N?” Jack waited until he was sure Michael was safely in his own mind with Sam and Cas before he turned his attention to you. “Y/N, you can hear me right?”

You didn’t nod, exactly, but your head noticeably twitched up, so Jack took that as a good sign.

“Ok, ok good. I just wanna make sure you know that you’re safe. Michael isn’t gonna hurt you ever again, ok? Sam and Cas have this plan—they’re gonna talk to Dean up there in his head, and he’s gonna kick Michael out. He’ll be back to regular Dean, just like I said. We’re gonna get him back, Y/N. I promise.” Jack reached forward and wrapped his hand around yours. Your hand was limp in his, your fingers unmoving.

Jack sighed. “I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be, I promise. Remember I helped you after Asmodeus hurt you? I just want to help you again. I want you to feel safe again.”

Jack waited, his breath stagnant as he watched you.

Nothing. Not a hint of movement in your eyes, not a twitch from the limp hand that was still resting in Jack’s. It was like you weren’t even in there.

“I don’t care how long it takes,” Jack said. “I’m gonna help you come back.”

…

“I’ve got him.”

It was Michael’s voice, but it didn’t sound like Michael anymore. Could it be…

“Sammy, I’ve got him. He’s secure, he’s not going anywhere.” Dean. It was Dean. “Y/N?” The sound of that voice calling your name stopped your breath, even though you were almost sure it was your big brother now.

“Hey, wait—“ you heard the scuffling of feet and the sound of Sam’s voice. “Dean, don’t. Michael—he took her. He hurt her. I don’t really know how, or what happened, but…but just go slow with her.”

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice was gentle as he slowly stepped closer to you. “Y/N, it’s Dean. Would you look at me, please?”

This finally got a reaction. You tilted your chin up and lifted your eyes to Dean, but you still didn’t move or speak.

“Hey.” A relieved smile broke out on Dean’s face—at least he knew you were listening now. “Hey kiddo. You doin ok?”

The longer you stared at Dean, the more shallow your breathing became. Dean was just reaching for you, hoping to calm you down, when you suddenly turned on your heel and made a dash for your room.

“Y/N!” Sam called after you. The slam of your door was his answer.

…

You wouldn’t answer the door for anyone, even Jack.

“I’m gonna go in there,” Dean decided.

“Dean, maybe she just needs space,” Sam suggested.

“She’s been in there all day without a word.” Dean shook his head. “I’ve gotta at least check on her.”

‘’Maybe I should try,” Jack suggested.

“I’m doing this alone.” Dean’s voice didn’t leave much room for argument, but Jack tried anyway.

“You still don’t trust me around her?” Jack asked.

“It’s not about that,” Dean huffed. “I’m the one who did this, so I’m the one who needs to fix it.”

“Dean, it wasn’t your—“ Cas’s protests stopped when Dean held up a hand.

“It doesn’t matter. She still sees him every time she looks at me. I need to fix this.”

Sam was the first to relent, and he managed to get Jack and Cas to leave with him to give you and Dean some space.

“Kiddo?” Dean knocked softly, knowing you wouldn’t answer. He was right. “Kiddo, if you don’t say anything I’m just gonna open the door. You ok in there?” After a prolonged silence, Dean went on. “Ok, I’m coming in.” He twisted the handle, glad it wasn’t locked, and slipped through the door.

You were sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, your knees tucked up against your chest. Your whole body stiffened when Dean stepped into the room, but other than that there was no indication that you’d seen him enter; you didn’t look at him, you didn’t move.

“Hey,” Dean greeted. He sat next to you, and you didn’t react. “Would you look at me?”

Your eyes met Dean’s, and something scratched at the back of his mind.

“Are you just gonna do what I tell you to do?” Dean swallowed. “Is…is that what Michael made you do?” You stayed silent, so Dean prompted, “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Kid, you don’t have to do that. I’m not Michael, you know that right?”

“I…” your voice faltered. You took a deep breath. “I know. I’ll—I’m trying.”

“I never wanted him to hurt you,” Dean sighed. “I never meant for—“

“It’s not your fault, De,” you interrupted. “You’re not Michael, and…and nothing he said or did meant anything about you.”

“Ok, I got it.” Dean put his hand on your shoulder. “Now you gotta remember that, too, and stop being so freaked around me. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I told you, I’ll try…Dean?”

“Yeah kid?”

“Are you sure he can’t get out?”

When he saw you shaking, Dean reached out and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m sure. I’m never gonna let that guy hurt you again, ok? Never.”

You finally relaxed in your big brother’s arms.

“Ok.”

“Good. Now let’s go bother Sam and the angel gang.”

You laughed.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[vanillarosekiss]

Hi lovie! May i request something? Can you write angst to comfort with simon or john? Love me some ex to lover or just like another chance romance where the boys are grovelling teehee

Of course I can, angel!♡ I hope you like this, I'm so sorry that it's late. I really wanted to make it more angsty at the beginning and sweet at the end so enjoy.

What Remains ₊˚⊹♡

Warnings: angsty, simon being a bit of a prick tbh, fluff at the end.

The dreaded knock came late—sharp and deliberate, breaking the silence of your small apartment. You weren’t expecting anyone at this time, but the minute you opened the door and saw him standing there, everything froze.

Simon.

He looked the same, but so different. The mask was gone, but his darkening aura stayed the same. He didn’t say anything; he stared at you like he wasn’t sure you’d let him speak.

“What do you want?” you said, voice harsher than you expected.

“I came to talk,” he muttered, his voice low, almost hesitant, “To apologise.”

You let out a harsh laugh and crossed your arms.

“Talk? Now? After you walked out of my life without a word? Months, Simon. Months. And now you want to talk?”

“I know,” he said quickly, his tone defensive, as if bracing for impact.

“I know I fucked up.”

“Fucked up?” You stepped back, gesturing wildly, “No, Simon. You didn’t just ‘fuck up.’ You destroyed me. Do you even get that?”

He winced, his lips pressing into a hard line. “I left to keep you safe. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit,” you snapped. “You always have a choice. You just didn’t want to deal with me, so you made the easiest one. Don’t pretend you did it for me.”

His head snapped up at that, and for the first time, you saw something crack in him.

“You think it was easy? Leaving you? That it didn’t tear me apart every time i thought about it?”

“Sure looked easy from where I was standing,” you fired back. You knew it wasn’t like that, but you had lost it with him now.

“I was trying to protect you,” he said, voice harder now, colder. It was like he went back to who he was in the field, merciless and cruel.

“Do you have any idea the kind of shit that follows me? The kind of danger I drag around? I left because I didn’t want you caught in the crossfire. You know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you.”

“Protect me?” You let out a bitter laugh. “That’s rich, Simon. Did you ever stop to think about how it felt on my end? Not knowing if you were dead, alive, or just done with me? You didn’t protect me. You abandoned me.”

That word hit him like a slap. His jaw clenched, and something in his expression shifted, turning darker. “You think I wanted to do that? That it didn’t fucking kill me to walk away? I was trying to do the right thing.”

“Yeah, well, you failed,” you shot back. “Congratulations. All you did was prove I meant nothing to you.”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “You think you meant nothing? Christ, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I thought about you every fucking day. Do you know how many times I wanted to pick up the phone? To come back? But I couldn’t.”

“Why? Why couldn’t you?” you demanded, your voice breaking. You didn’t want to get emotional with him but you couldn’t help it.

“What stopped you? What could possibly be worse than what you did to me?”

Simon’s voice dropped, “Because I was scared, alright? Scared I’d lose you for good. Scared you’d get hurt because of me.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave. For a small moment, neither of you said anything, just stood there in the wreckage of everything unsaid.

“You broke me, Simon. You left me with nothing. And now you just show up, expecting me to forgive you?”

“I don’t expect your forgiveness,” he said, his tone softer now, the fight draining out of him. “I just… I couldn’t stay away anymore. I had to try. Even if you want to slam the door in my face, I’ll take it, but I needed you to know I’m sorry. For all of it.”

You felt your resolve cracking, the anger giving way to something else—something just as painful.

“You don’t get to do this to me,” you whispered. “You don’t get to come back like this and try to undo everything I’ve been through.”

“I know,” he said gently. “But I can’t let you go without a fight. Just because I left doesn’t mean I don’t love you anymore.”

Your arms hung limp at your sides, the weight of his words crushing you. You couldn’t tell if you were angry at him or just upset.

“I know I’ve been a prick, baby, trust me I know. And I hate myself for ever doing this to you. I wasn’t thinking properly. Fuck, I just- ”. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

He looked… lost? Like he didn’t know how to fix this, and it tugged at something deep inside you, even through the anger.

“Simon,” you said quietly, your voice softer now.

His hand dropped, and he looked at you, the raw emotion in his eyes catching you off guard. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you if you let me,” he whispered. “I just want you back. Please.”

The sincerity in his voice broke you, and you couldn’t even get a moment to second-guess yourself.

“One chance, Simon. That’s all you’re getting.”

Guys i fear this is one of the best things i’ve written (my favourite). And it’s actually proof-read because i could be asked to get the grammar correct!! So proud. Thank you anon for this lovely, lovely request `౨ৎ~

Tag list: @soapisgod @slut-lmao @sebastianstans-slut @ilikeoldmen @g1rlfa1lure0 @queenoflaflames @tmartin0918 @kkloubee @goldie-221 @patricksoulmate @writingandsins @mxnee777 @caro-line19  @decaffeinateddelusionbread @poohkie90 @senoritaleeda @xoxoxoaspen @i-ship-stony-and-superfamily @simonrileysdarling @angelica456

Please lmk if you’d like to be removed or added to the tag list, I won’t take any offence!

[garden-of-gay]

Can You Feel It? It's Burlesque Part 2

This chapter is a bit shorter than the last, but that is because I've been super busy and I wrote too much for one chapter, so I am giving a shorter chapter now for a longer chapter 3. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3

Ch 1, Ch 2

Also here on Ao3

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

Eddie made his way up to the door Steve had motioned to and upon entering the back was hit with a wave of perfume and absolute chaos. The back was extremely crowded, dancers were everywhere in all the different mirrors and stations but above all a woman’s voice could be heard.

“Ladies! Let’s move it, ladies!” She yelled.

There was a cacophony of replies along the lines of “Yes ma’am” and a couple “Where is my costume!?” but for the most part, the chatter was hard to decipher although, Eddie managed to pick up a bit since his time working in the noisy bar.

“Does anyone know where Billy is?” someone asks.

Eddie is thoroughly overwhelmed at this moment as he searches for Joyce. He overhears a dancer talking to someone and figures it’s his best bet to find Joyce, follow the dancers.

He hears a dancer complain of losing a contact on the stage and the older woman from earlier speak up.

“Okay, if you fall off the stage remember, leg extended, boobs up” she chuckles.

The younger woman she was seemingly talking to then chimes in,

“Remember you’re a goddess.”

“Thank you, Robin” the dancer replies with a smile before the older lady repeats the phrase in a mocking tone towards this Robin.

Backstage is chaos, but he loves it. It reminds him of the few times his dad allowed his band to play at the bar and there was a certain anticipation that hung in the air right before performing. He bumps into one of the dancers before she calls out to a man loitering backstage.

“Lonnie, the sink upstairs is broken again,” she said.

“I’m not calling a plumber, Barb” He replies.

He then makes his way over to the elegant older woman and Eddie can slightly make out what they are saying.

“Joyce, have you read this letter from the bank?” He asks.

“Lonnie, how many times must I tell you? No business during business hours” She huffs, annoyed.

“Come on, Henry Creel is coming to the show tomorrow night, this isn’t going away Joyce,” he says.

She rolls her eyes at him and is clearly disinterested in continuing the conversation, but he continues anyway.

“You won’t talk to me before shows, you won’t talk to me after, it’s like you are avoiding me.”

“Well, I didn’t divorce you to spend more time with you” She jokes.

“I may not be Mr. Joyce anymore but I still own half this place,” he says before walking away in a huff muttering on about how it’s not paying the bills.

Eddie then approaches Robin who is in the midst of fixing up a dancer’s hair and then asks.

“I’m looking for Joyce?”

She nods her head in the direction the older woman, Joyce, went and he wanders over to her.

“Hi, are you Joyce?” He asks.

“Yes, honey, why are you in my mirror exactly?” She replies kindly.

“Oh sorry, I’m a friend of Steve’s and I’m looking for a job.”

“Where have you danced?”

“Ummm….”

Eddie had for some reason not anticipated this question and was now left floundering.

“At home? I promise you I can move though.”

She gave him a polite smile in the mirror before speaking.

“Give your name and number to Robin and she can contact you when we have our next auditions.”

“When will that be exactly?” he asked.

He never got his answer because Robin approached, and Joyce turned her attention to her.

“Where is Billy?”

“I don’t know, he’s late again,” Robin said

“Oh, I’m never late” Eddie interjected hoping it scored him some brownie points

“That’s great buddy now leave your name and number with your friend Steve downstairs, and we will give you a call, promise,” Robin said with a gentle push towards the stairs

 “I’ve just never seen anything like it, and I would just love...” Eddie began before bumping into yet another dancer, this time in big sunglasses

“Billy, Robin, and I were just talking, and you know she said…” Joyce said and then gestured to Robin to finish the thought

“That it was so sad that Billy couldn’t join us for the opening number, and it would be so great if he joined us for the next one”

“Listen, less flab more ab, my workout took longer than expected” Billy replied to the women

“And so is finding a new job when I fire your late ass” Joyce joked, but Eddie could tell there was a bit of truth to her statement

Billy then turned and acknowledged Eddie for the first time since they bumped into each other

“Hey, bring me a martini extra dry, straight up, three olives,” Billy said with an heir of entitlement

“He doesn’t work here Billy” another dancer replied while Eddie remained speechless, staring at Billy

“Then he isn’t busy,” he said smarmily

Eddie continued staring at Billy for a moment. Billy then seemed to notice and spoke with a cocky grin on his face.

“Didn’t your mama every tell you it isn’t polite to stare”

“You’re just so damn handsome” He replied

“Screw your mama, stare away” Billy exclaimed with a Cheshire grin

“It’s just no one would ever know” Eddie replied

“Know what!" Billy said angrily.

Eddie took note that Billy seemingly had a short fuse and was easy to rile up…perfect.

“That you are smooth like a Ken doll down there,” Eddie said with a wink before descending the stairs back into the busy club.

-

Once he got back down to the bar, Eddie took inventory of everything happening. He needed a job ASAP and it looked like this place needed a proper waiter. He observed the club for a moment and realized that the waitress who was supposed to be getting drinks to patrons was sitting around chatting with someone at the bar. He watched as a customer waved her over and she blatantly ignored them saying something along the lines of “In a minute”. This just wouldn’t do, and a plan began forming in Eddie’s head, if he couldn’t tell them why he deserved a job then he would just show them.

He stripped the leather jacket he was wearing draping it over a chair before picking up a tray from the bar and making his rounds from table to table based on who was in need of drinks. Once he was satisfied with gathering orders he returned to Steve at the bar.

“A shot of Patron and the tough looking guy in the hat wants a Cosmo” he said, Steve looked puzzled but replied

“What are you doing?”

“One night, if I’m not better than boobs-for-brains over there, you don’t have to pay me” Eddie practically begged he needed this job and he needed it bad.

-

Turns out Eddie had done something right and was told he could return the next night to begin proper work on the condition that he wore the proper club uniform. He had easily agreed as the uniform was all black and even if he hated it he would wear it because a job is a job and he needs it. He had been told to arrive 30 minutes early to his shift to be shown where everything was and get a feel for the place but other than that he was left to his own devices since he had waiting experience under his belt.

Once the club had opened and the seats were filled, Eddie began getting drinks for the tables as they waited for the opening number of the night. Eddie had no idea what to expect but was just as excited to see the performances as the attendees. After a while, the lights dimmed and the opening to Diamonds Are a Girls Best Friend by Marylin Monroe.

A kiss on the hand May be quite continental But diamonds are a girl's best friend

A kiss may be grand But it won't pay the rental On your humble flat Or help you at the automat

Men grow cold As girls grow old And we all lose our charms in the end

But square-cut or pear-shaped These rocks don't lose their shape Diamonds are a girl's best friend

Back at the bar, Joyce and Robin could be found watching Eddie as he worked.

“Isn’t that the guy that was backstage yesterday?” Joyce asked

“I think so?” Robin replied

“Hey Steve, what’s he doing here?” Joyce called out to him.

Steve’s face flushed a bit red at this, but he replied nonetheless

“He really wanted a job and so…he's our new waiter”

“And when did I make you the head of personnel?” Joyce joked with Steve

“He just picked up a tray and started working,” Steve said with a shrug, face still flushed

“Really?” Robin asked, her eyes bugging slightly out of her head

“Well, his name is Eddie” Steve replied sheepishly.

“Eddie” Joyce repeated before calling out to the man in question

“Hey Eddie”

Eddie waltzed over to the bar nervous as to what Joyce had to say, would she be super upset? Would she fire him on the spot? He couldn’t lose this job, he just got it and based on the look on her face, she meant business. As he got closer, however, her face softened before she spoke

“The uniform looks nice on you but roll up your sleeves you look too formal. Also, put up your hair you got a cute face so don’t hide it”

Eddie flushed and hoped the lighting would hide his blush. He had been told he was hot before by the men he had hooked up with, but he had never been called cute, especially not by a motherly type; it was nice.

“Also, don’t ever go behind my back again” Joyce said more stern

“Yes ma’am” Eddie replied, and he felt like saluting but figured that it would not bode well.

“And don’t ever call me ma’am again” Joyce huffed

“Yes sir, I mean ma’am, I mean…Joyce” Eddie fumbled. Damn, he was doing bad at this.

“Get on the floor” Joyce joked before patting Eddie along.

-

The performance continued and Marilyn sang:

Tiffany's Cartier Black Starr Frost Gorham Talk to me Harry Winston Tell me all about it

As the lead dancer ripped jewels from the other dancers’ bodies. Eddie watched mesmerized, slowly picking up the steps to the dance and dancing along as he went from table to table getting drink orders. He was pulled away from watching when a man’s voice spoke.

“Excuse me, Dewar’s rocks and a bottle of your best champagne for the table…and oh, will you tell Billy that I’m here”

“Any you are…?” Eddie asked, especially since this man clearly had money and no manner when it came to introducing himself.

“A member since ’91, Henry Creel. And you are?” Henry asked

“Eddie” He replied

“Eddie" Henry parroted back

-

Meanwhile, as Eddie waited tables, Robin had made her way backstage to make sure the performance was going alright and that she could help with any malfunctions and costume changes to come. As she watched, she was made aware of a presence once he came crashing up to her.

“I’m here,” Billy said

“You’re late, you’re late for a very important date, Vickie went on for you” Robin chuckled because of course Billy expected the club to wait on him.

Billy then looked between the beaded curtains at Vickie before he spotted Eddie and turned to Robin.

“What is that waiter doing here, I want that bitch out now” Billy exclaimed angrily

“What did he ever do to you?” She asked

“He said I have no dick” he pouted

Robin just laughed before replying

“That can’t be the first time that’s happened”

Billy just gave her an angry look before turning to look up at the lighting guy and saying:

“Get my spot”

“Billy, what are you doing!” Robin exclaimed, trying to stop Billy but it was too late, he had already stepped out onto the stage and to reel him back in would just disrupt the performance.

-

Eddie watched as the dancer from yesterday, Billy, stepped on the stage and began to fight for the spotlight over the original lead dancer.

There may come a time When a lass needs a lawyer But diamonds are a girl's best friend

There may come a time When a hard-boiled employer Thinks you're awful nice But get that ice or else no dice

Of course, Billy was like this. Eddie had encountered people like this before who needed everything to be about them, and Billy seemed just the type to do that. He pushed and shoved his way in front of the other dancer and the poor girl did her best to adapt to the situation.

-

 As the number came to an end Eddie found himself back at the bar watching and imagining himself in the place of the lead dancer.

Diamonds Diamonds I don't mean rhinestones But diamonds are a girl's best Best friend

He would sing and the crowd would go wild, clapping, throwing flowers for him, and overall cheering his name. “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

“Eddie! Eddie, what do you need?” Steve asked, snapping and pulling Eddie away from the daydream he was having

“Dewars rocks and a bottle of Dom” He began

“And keep it coming” Steve finished

“So, he’s a regular” Eddie questioned

“Henry Creel, real estate guy. Dating Billy. This week at least” Steve answered

Good to know that Steve and seemingly the club were not homophobic because that might have become a problem at some point but Eddie was more focused on how the dancers got to soak in the applause and bask in the moment. He turned to Steve

“I wanna be up there, I wanna do that”

“Question is, do you have the talent?” he asked

“I do” Eddie replied

“Are you sure?” Steve asked

“Yes!” Eddie replied with a grin

“Positive?” He asked with a smile of his own

“Yeah!” Eddie said, grin getting bigger

“Good because you’re on” Steve replied with a smile before pushing a tray of drinks towards Eddie.

His smile dropped pretty quickly after picking up the tray of drinks and he huffed an annoyed sigh.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Taglist:

@irregular-child

[sincerelykimii]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓

𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐰𝐤 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞, 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧

𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 :)

You worked for Bucky Barnes as his assistant, and Bucky was a cocky and overly confident boss who had it all, money, good looks, hot body, but that didn't mean he was a nice person, as you brought him his coffee he complained how it wasn't to his liking although it was how he likes it, as you tried to defend yourself, he cut you off. "I'm sorry? Who's the assistant here?.. that's right you..and I think this job is the only thing keeping you away from losing your home...I'd be a shame you got fired..".

I bite my bottom lip struggling to keep my composure, ever since I’ve worked for this prick he has been nothing but rude. Don’t get me wrong he’s attractive as hell but god that personality is ugly, “Sorry Mr. Barnes, I’ll get you a new one.” I say taking the coffee cup from his hand gently.

he scoffs watching you take the cup away, his eyes following your movements, his gaze lingering on your plump lips as you bite your bottom lip, he can't help but think how soft and inviting they look. He shakes his head slightly, trying to get rid of those thoughts. "You know what?" He says, I stop in my tracks, rolling my eyes before turning to face him, “what?” I say barely above a whisper. I can feel my blood boiling, ready to overflow. I would’ve quit already if it wasn’t for the money, god…I really need the money.

He leans back in his chair, a wicked smirk playing on his lips as he observes your visible irritation. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he chuckles softly. "Actually, on second thought, forget the coffee. I think what I really need is... your opinion on something." I nod tossing the coffee in the trash, “my opinion…?” I mumble, my brows furrowing in a confused expression, I think back to last week immediately, “I don’t need your fucking opinion y/n, I know what I’m doing!” Bucky yelled right after I added onto his sentence about helping the company. Crazy thing is my opinion did help improve the company. I snap out of my thoughts as my feet lead me to the chair infront of his desk.

He watches you walk towards the chair, his eyes roaming over your figure, taking in the way your hips sway with each step. He leans forward, his elbows on the desk as he regards you with a serious expression. "Yes, y/n, your opinion. Specifically, about me." I tilt my head slightly, I’m shocked he’s even talking to me about something so…personal. At a loss for words I simply just nod my head waiting for his question. His eyes twinkle with amusement at your hesitation, clearly enjoying having you on edge. He stands up slowly, walking around the desk to lean against it, making sure to keep a decent distance but close enough to make you slightly uncomfortable. "You know what I've noticed?"

I look up at Bucky my eyes drifting to his lips occasionally, god if wasn’t so attractive I would’ve been uncomfortable with a man this close to me. “what have you noticed sir?” I say mimicking my head tilt from a few moments before, His eyes flick to my lips briefly before meeting your gaze again. He crosses his arms, his biceps bulging slightly. "I've noticed that whenever I give an order or make a decision, you always have this look on your face like you want to say something but you hold back."

I swallow nervously, this is it. he’s firing me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about sir.” I say letting the lie slip through my lips, the bitter taste making my nose scrunch ever so slightly.

Bucky’s lips curl into a knowing smirk as he watches the subtle twitches across your face, amused by your obvious discomfort and poorly concealed lie. "Oh really? Because I would swear that look on your face screams 'I have a brilliant idea that could save your ass but I'm terrified of speaking up."

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in before meeting his gaze, our eyes locking immediately. those beautiful blue eyes, the ones that send chills down my spine when I’m getting scolded for a stupid coffee mistake, the ones that glare at me when I’m biting my lip holding back the words I know I shouldn’t say, god…those beautiful fucking eyes. I don’t know what came over me but I open my mouth to say something, I’m definitely getting fired. “I’m not terrified of speaking up, I’m…I’m terrified of losing this job.”

Bucky’s smirk fades, replaced by a look of surprise, then something softer, almost tender. He uncrosses his arms, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "Why would you think I'm going to fire you, y/n?"

I shrug my shoulders, shaking my head slightly, “you could have any assistant you want, you clearly don’t want one who speaks up.” I say glancing at the floor attempting to avoid eye contact, but my god…it’s like his eyes, his smell, his stupid smug smirk, fuck. It’s like they’re drawing me in.

Buckys takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming your senses as he gently lifts your chin with a finger, forcing you to look into his eyes. "You're wrong, y/n. I want an assistant who's smart, bold, and isn't afraid to challenge me when I'm being an idiot." I bite my bottom lip nervously, only you Bucky Barnes can make a woman nervous with just the touch of your fingertip. “you’re not firing me?” I say my eyes flickering between his. His gaze fixes intensified on your lips as you bite them nervously. "Unless you've been stealing from me or leaking company secrets, I'm definitely not firing you." His finger traces your jawline softly before dropping his hand.

I nod glancing around the room doing anything to avoid his eye contact, I can feel my cheeks heating up and god forbid I let him see. “Is that all Mr. Barnes?” I say keeping my gaze on my fingers as I fidget with my skirt. Bucky’s eyes narrow slightly at your sudden shyness, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes a step back, giving you some space. "For now, yes. But y/n?" He pauses until you meet his gaze again, his eyes dark and intense.

I look up meeting his eyes once again, “yes?” I say barely above a whisper, afraid my voice might betray me. "Start speaking up in meetings, understand?" His tone is firm but not unkind. He watches your reaction closely, wondering if you'll shrink back into your shell or finally show some of that backbone he knows you have. "And sit back down, you're fidgeting too much." I roll my eyes playfully taking a seat, “yes sir, I will.” I say confidently, maybe this prick isn’t too bad…

[steveharrington]

god i know this is an unpopular opinion but i wish mike flanagan had just made his stupid show and called it something else. i hate that people associate the haunting of hill house with that show, and i’m not even saying that i think the show is bad. i don’t think it’s poorly made but it’s just not….the haunting of hill house. it rearranges the characters it strips so many of them of their personalities it just fundamentally changes so many crucial aspects of the story! and shirley jackson was a genius she was a major voice that informed the horror genre we know today and it’s so bizarre to me that someone took her story, rearranged it into something barely recognizable, and still used her title. and now it’s what people think of when they think of hill house and mike flanagan goes on documentaries and says stuff like “when i created the haunting of hill house” and he has a character named shirley but she isn’t even the one who wrote the titular novel within his show, they gave that to a man, and i hate it. i hate it so much. just make your thing and say it’s inspired by the haunting of hill house fuck me

[mars-ipan]

steroids have decided the two emotions for tonight are Gamer Rage and Deep Yearning Sadness

[luvismenu]

their first time fucking —

⋆˚࿔ fuckboy!jungkook 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ extra ࣪ ִֶָ☾. written, nsfw

series m.list

♡ — permanent taglist: @https-mei @blaricee @blluee28 @jkvias @jksctrl @ari420sstuff @wnteraezz @letmekookk @whoa-jo @wobblewobble822 @jkslvsnella @clxssy1997 @nikkinikj @kayleesaltzmann @rrosiitas @naurnonope @lola75111 @somehowukook @redcherrykook @parkinglot-nights @deluluisdasolulu @minghaosimp @hyeon-yi @ririkookiemonster @svtrighthereworld @jmscaffeine @trinityxsope @taetaecatboy @butnotmontana @joyofbebbanburg @elinaki92 @sweetmimosa28

“are you sure about this?”

“yes, like i said, go slo— i told you to go slow jungkook!”

“oh fuck-”

“you ruined it!!!” you exclaim as you watch jungkook lose a game that the two of you have been playing for the last 30 minutes. well, he's the one playing and you're kind of.. helping.

you wanted to play, but he insisted he wanted to play alone because you're a 'nerd' and couldn't play as well as he could—which earned him a smack on the head from you.

“i told you, you have to wait until the monster appears,” you huff, and he slumps back into the couch.

“okay, expert, whatever,” he shrugs.

“yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes.

jungkook relaxes into the couch, his head thrown back as he groans, “where is this mother fu—”

ding!

“i think you got a text,” you say, glancing at his phone on the small table beside the couch.

“oh, you think so?” he mocks, and you glare him.

hoseok invited you for your usual study session. normally, you both would go to the library or the café he likes, which you didn't mind. today, though, he said he wanted to study at his frat house because it would just be the two of you.

and you couldn't miss a chance like that now would you?

but when you arrived, hoseok was nowhere to be found, and it was jungkook who let you in.

what a fun way to find out that all the fuckboys live in the same house.

jungkook told you that the other members were out doing what they usually do—things you'd rather not know about.

and now, you're just waiting for hoseok to come back.

“oh... okay,” jungkook says aloud as he sets his phone aside, turning to you.

“was it him? is he coming?” you ask.

“nah, he's getting wasted with the others, probably won't be back until.. i don't know, early morning i guess?” jungkook replies, “oh and i told him you were here. he said he's sorry that he forgot and told me to tell you to go home safe.”

you sulk at his words.

he notices.

“he... forgot?” you ask, your voice dropping.

“that's what he said. if you don't believe me, you can take my phone and see his texts.”

“no, no, i mean...” you sigh. “uh sorry, i should get going then.”

you stand up, grabbing your bag. but before you can take a step forward, jungkook speaks up.

“we can play another game if you want.”

you look at him. he holds up his controller, placing the second one beside him.

“together.”

“i am tired,” he groans, throwing the controller onto the couch as he walks toward the kitchen and you follow him.

“for a fuckboy, you have less stamina,” you joke.

“i was studying the whole day—”

you raise a brow.

“i know, yeah me, studying?? woah, impossible!!” he mocks himself, then continues more seriously, “trust me, i study.”

he grabs a can of beer from the fridge and closes it. “sometimes.”

you can't help but scoff a laugh.

“you don't have to explain yourself,” you say, crossing your arms as he takes a sip of the beer before responding.

“i know, but it's you i’m talking to, so—”

“what do you mean, me?”

he tilts his head. “aren't we friends?”

“yeah?”

he smiles. “then i gotta prove that i’m not as bad as you think i am.”

“i don't—”

“you do.”

you think for a second and sigh. “i do.”

that makes both of you chuckle.

“i think i should go now, it's getting late,” you tell jungkook, glancing at the clock on the wall. you walk toward the door, and he follows you.

“thank you for the ice cream,” you say, referring to the treat you had a few minutes ago.

“it's okay, it wasn't mine anyway,” he shrugs, and you gasp.

“what the fuck, why did you let me eat it then?”

“relax! it’s hoseok's. he wouldn't mind since he literally ditched you tonight,” he says, then realizes how it sounds as he sees the change in your expression. “i didn't mean—”

“no, it's okay. he did kind of ditch me, but it doesn't really matter. i can meet him some other time.” you smile, trying to ease the awkwardness.

you're kinda rethinking about getting fucked by him anyway.

“right...” he trails off.

you both stand there for a moment, the silence stretching between you before he breaks it.

“so, i guess i'll text— mmph.” and you do it again. you cut him off just like when you first met him, but this time, the kiss lasts longer.

“w-wait,” he breathes out as he pulls back, staring at you. “you wanna fuck?”

“well, i don't know—”

“why did you kiss me then?” he asks

you look at him. why did you kiss him?

because hoseok isn't available? no.

because you're desperate? ... you're not sure.

“i don't know…” you finally say.

he opens his mouth to say something but stops.

“i just wanted to,” you add, and he's visibly surprised.

“is that wrong?” you continue, your eyes searching his.

jungkook's gaze softens. “no,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his voice barely a whisper. “but you don't like fuckboys and also we're friends—”

“yes, but tonight's different.” you say, reaching out to tug him back towards you, “you know, like a one time thing.”

he raises an eyebrow, his voice uncertain. “so, you wanna fuck and then wake up tomorrow like nothing happened? like we didn't do anything?”

you roll your eyes. “if you keep talking, we really won't do anything.”

“okay then final question, answer this with a yes or no” he says, his tone teasingly demanding, almost childish, and it makes you scoff a laugh.

“what?”

he smirks.

“wanna fuck?”

you smirk back.

“yes.”

───────── the wall ─────────

“o-oh fuck, jungkook, yes!” you moan out, your fingers tangled in his hair. his head is buried between your thighs, which are wrapped tightly around his neck. your hips are lifted, your back pressed against the wall as he stays on his knees.

he's been tongue-fucking you for a few minutes now, and you can feel yourself reaching the edge.

“mm, you taste so sweet.” he laps at your clit, sucking the sensitive bud between his teeth before releasing it with a pop. “i could eat this pretty cunt all day long.”

without warning, you cum on his mouth, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure course through you.

he swallows it all, his tongue still working on your sensitive pussy, making you squirm and whimper from the overstimulation.

slowly, he stands up as lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. he keeps you pressed against the wall, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he looks at you as you're gasping for air, that cocky grin forming on his lips.

“you want me forreal.”

“are you kidding me? right now?” you can't believe he's saying that after you just came so hard. but maybe it’s because of the orgasm, because instead of getting annoyed, you find yourself laughing a little.

“you came so much so i—” you cut him off with a kiss, your lips crashing onto his as you taste yourself, sucking on his tongue to shut him up.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours.

“what's next, darling?”

───────── the floor ─────────

“t-that tickles,” you giggle when you feel jungkook softly rubbing your waist while his tongue laps at your right nipple.

“my tongue?” he asks, his eyes looking up at you as he moves to kiss your left nipple. you're both sprawled on the floor, his hands moving up and down your body as he hovers over you.

“your hands,” you gasp softly, taking in the warmth of his mouth on your skin.

“mmh,” he hums as his hands slide up, grabbing both of your breasts, squeezing them gently. you arch your back slightly when he squeezes them together, and he buries his face between them, licking and nipping at the soft flesh.

“can i suck your dick?” you say quickly, almost before thinking, and it makes jungkook pull back, looking at you in surprise. he clearly wasn’t expecting that.

“you wanna?” he asks, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“why do you look so surprised? never got your dick sucked before?” you joke, a grin forming on your lips as you see the stunned look on his face.

he rolls his eyes at you, his lips curving into a smirk. it's funny because it's usually you who’s rolling your eyes at him.

“just making sure,”

───────── the couch ─────────

“y-you're doing so good, f-fuck,” he groans, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you choke and drool on his cock. you're on your knees, gripping his thighs while he sits naked on the couch, his cock in your mouth.

his head falls back as he moans, and he bucks his hips up just slightly, pushing deeper into your throat.

he fucking loves this.

“mmfph-” you let out a muffled sound as your eyes start to water. he looks down at you, taking in the sight of you on your knees for him, your lips stretched around his length. reaching out, he wipes away a tear, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your cheek, his touch oddly tender given the situation.

“that's it, darling. you're being such a good girl,” he whispers, his voice barely above a breath but enough for you to hear. “sucking my cock and looking at me like that... you look so fucking pretty.”

you pull back just slightly, taking a quick breath before diving right back in. your head bobs up and down, your tongue gliding along the underside of his cock, taking him as deep as you can. each time you do, he lets out a low groan, his abs tightening.

“oh fuck, i'm close,” he grunts, his grip on your hair loosening and you pull back.

“can i-” he starts to ask, but you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out, and he curses under his breath.

he strokes himself a few times, his breath hitching, and then he releases, hot ropes of cum spilling onto your tongue. you keep your mouth open, letting him see before swallowing it all, licking him clean until there's nothing left. once you're done, you pull away, giving him a proud smile.

he chuckles, shaking his head slightly, clearly amused by your behavior.

“you're not what i expected,”

───────── bed ─────────

“did you fuck anyone here before?” you ask as you look at jungkook between your legs. your thighs are wrapped around his waist, and your back pressed against the softness of his bed.

“no,” he says simply as he reaches over to grab a condom. “i don't bring girls here.”

“why not?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“because i'm never alone,” he explains, tearing the packet open with ease.

“but we're alone right now,” you point out, watching every one of his movements.

“i was supposed to go out with hoseok and the others, but i was tired, remember? so i stayed in. and honestly, i'm glad i did that.” he rolls the condom onto his length.

you smack his shoulder playfully, and he lets out a soft chuckle.

“now, are you really sure about this?” he asks, his hands gently gripping your hips, holding you steady.

“for the tenth time, yes, i am,” you respond, “like i said, it’s a one-time thing,” you remind him.

he gives a small nod, then grabs his cock, rubbing the tip along your wet folds, making you whimper at the feeling.

“just fucking put it in,” you breathe out,

he grins, leaning down just a bit closer. “say please, darling,”

“if you think i’m gonna beg for it, think again,” you say, your eyes narrowing at him.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “so bossy,” he mutters, and then, without further delay, he pushes his cock into you.

“f-fuck..” you bite down on your lower lip, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel him stretching you. the fullness is almost overwhelming, but there's a hint of pleasure there, building slowly.

he pauses for a moment, his gaze searching your face. “you okay, darling?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

“y-yeah,” you manage to say, breathing heavily. “it feels... bigger than i expected,” you admit, your cheeks flushing slightly.

his grin widens at that, and he starts to move, thrusting in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm. normally, you'd have some sassy comeback for that look on his face, but right now, it feels too good to say anything at all.

no wonder women love him.

you came once.

“fuck— nngh y-yes!!” you cry out, the pleasure overwhelming as your body trembles around him.

“oh my go— i am— fuck!” jungkook moans, his head falling back onto the pillow as you ride him, your hips bouncing on his cock.

twice.

“you like that, hm? you like getting your pussy fucked from behind?” his voice is a growl as he grips your ass, pounding into you relentlessly. you’re on all fours, your moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin. tears well up at the edges of your eyes, the pleasure bordering on too much, but you don’t want him to stop.

make it a third time.

“fuck..”

jungkook groans as he collapses onto the bed, his chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes closed. exhaustion drips from his voice as he mumbles, “you’re such a freak.”

you sit beside him, still naked, your fingers lightly tracing patterns over his chest. “one more round?” you suggest, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “yeah, right.”

you tilt your head, raising a brow at him, your expression almost challenging.

his eyes widen just a bit. “oh, you’re serious?” he asks, genuinely surprised.

you nod, shrugging slightly. “how are you not tired?” he breathes out, his voice laced with disbelief.

“i can take some more, i guess,” you say casually, though the glint in your eyes betrays your eagerness.

“i am sorry to disappoint, darling, but i think i am done for tonight.” he lets out a tired sigh, and he sees you pout.

“woah,” he murmurs, watching the way your lips form into a cute little pout. it’s endearing. he’s seen so many sides of you tonight—and now... this.

cute and.. whiny?

“pleaseee, jungkook, one more time!!” you whine, your voice soft and pleading, making his heart skip a beat.

he blinks, like he’s just seeing a new part of you, something he never expected. maybe it’s the endorphins, or just the moment—whatever it is, this side of you is cute, almost innocent in your need.

he likes it.

“how about this,” he says, a grin forming on his lips, “we take a shower, and maybe we can go for another round there, hm?”

“shower sex?” you ask.

he nods.

“no, it’s unsafe,” you respond immediately, shaking your head.

he sighs dramatically, his grin widening. “well then, no more sex for tonight,” he says, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “maybe some other night.”

you roll your eyes, huffing. “you wish”

he chuckles, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close.

“i do.”

a/n: i hope it's not too confusing 😣

[pathologicalreid]

sweet talker | s.r.

in which french!reader gets caught using a special nickname for a particular genius

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: french. guys i don't speak french. bad french. bad flirting. but wholesome content all around. word count: 639 a/n: i do not speak french but this was a request and i live to serve the people of tumblr. if this offends the french i think that's just a risk i have to take.

Something about it felt like home. Not necessarily like the bullpen compared in the slightest to where you grew up, but the hustle and bustle of the BAU, while they were in the depths of a case, had the same feeling of a home.

As you rushed around the floor, placing files on desks and picking old ones up as you went, dropping soft thank you’s to the people in the office rounding the corner of Morgan’s desk, scooping his files from his desk and placing them in your own collection, “Merci, mon chou,” you thanked quickly.

Your co-worker smiled in response, “Anything for you, sweet talker,” he said, leaning back in his desk chair.

Scoffing, you shook your head. To Derek Morgan, anything said in French counted as sweet talking.

Balancing all of the files against your hip, you prepared to pick up the stack of papers on Spencer’s desk, but he stood up and gathered them in his own arms, “I’ll get them,” he offered. Although, it wasn’t much of an offer, seeing as he was already carrying his files.

It would be worse if you were to attempt to carry all of the files on your lonesome, so you decided to follow his lead to the file room.

Spencer was somewhat of a guiding light for you in the BAU. You considered yourself lucky to have been placed with a team that had two members who spoke French, which came in handy when you forgot certain English words, Emily and Spencer were usually there to save you.

Setting your files down on the spare table in the room, you started to organize them by which cabinet they went in as Spencer went ahead and returned his folders based on memory. “Do you think Morgan knows what you’re saying when you speak to him in French?”

Chuckling, you shook your head, “Non, mon cœur,” the words easily slipped out of your mouth. “I think Derek gave up on comprehending me the first week I joined the team,” you responded, checking the front and back of a file to make sure you were sorting it into the correct drawer.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “His English-to-French dictionary sits pretty untouched.” No one was of the mindset that you shouldn’t speak French at work, and you didn’t ask them to learn for you. Besides, work allowed you to strengthen your English skills.

Frowning at the same folder, you held the folder out to Spencer, “Do you know where this one goes?”

Accepting the folder from you, Spencer flipped through the first couple of pages before deftly slipping it into a drawer, “Sometimes I wish I could just know where things were, I’d never lose my car keys again.”

Spencer hummed in response, “I wish I spoke French like you.”

“Oh,” you said, “I think you speak French very well.”

Sliding another drawer shut, Spencer stepped over to a new one a few feet closer to you, “Thank you, but if I ever go to France, I’m taking you with me.”

You smiled to yourself at his proclamation, biting your tongue as the door swung open and Emily stepped in, “Hey, do you have that file on the Montana killer? I need it back.”

Spinning on your heel, you looked around for it, only to realize that it had already been put away, “Sorry,” you said, forgetting your proximity to Spencer as you stepped to the side.

He closed his drawer, “Pardonne moi, mon ange,” he said, grabbing a folder from your pile on the table and slipping out of the file room, “I still need this one.”

With Emily’s folder in your hand, you turned to look at your shell-shocked co-worker, “Did he...? And you two...?”

Thrusting the file in her direction, you looked at her with equally wide eyes, “Tais-toi.”

[agustdtown1]

SHUT UP ‘N LISTEN | JJK

PAIRING: street racer!brother’s bestfriend!jeon jungkook x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Trust was broken, and wrong decisions were made. You were now left alone facing the consequences of your own actions, realizing it was never a good idea to fuck around with your brother’s friend. But maybe that was another lesson you were meant to learn.

WC: 17.3k

WARNINGS: brother’s best friend trope, angst, like a loooooot, unnecessarily dramatic dialogues that I think were a bit too much but that worked out for the plot at the end. Fluff because I didn’t want to end it on a sad note again. Way too much feelings and emotions. Smut +18, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), a lot of begging, slight dom!jk, choking, making out, smacking, praising, pet names (doll, good girl, princess, baby, sweetheart, etc.), jk calls reader his good little slut, big dick!jk, mentions of belly bulge (very brief), doggy, missionary, jk begging a little bit towards the end. Let me know if I’m missing anything.

A/N: it’s finally here, the part 2 of shut up and drive, it took me some time to finally get it done, but I’m happy with the results. Also it was initially intended to be max 5k but I got a bit carried away and ended up being this super lengthy one shot so I apologize in advance. Anyway, enjoy your reading!

part 1 | masterlist

Most people experience a variety of emotions throughout their lives; happiness, sadness, anger. You can find happiness in the simple things in life, like buying your favorite food, your favorite drink, or when you go out with your friends. Sadness usually comes along when something bad happens, like losing a loved one or missing an important moment. Anger is presented in the form of violence most of the time, but it can also be delivered through words; hurting just as much as any punch would. Nonetheless, there’s also another emotion that has a huge impact on people, one that can conquer your body in the most unexpected moments.

Fear.

Usually defined as an unpleasant feeling that installs itself in the deepest part of our hearts and souls; fear is that one emotion capable of paralyzing people when faced with dangerous situations. Regardless of it being an abstract concept, like any other feeling, anyone at any point in their life has experienced that same emotion.

It is fear that you feel when you notice a stranger following you at night; it is fear that you feel when encountered with a wild animal. It is fear that goes through your body when someone tells you they have bad news.

And it was that same emotion that you felt when your brother verbalized the one thing you were trying to avoid.

“How long have you been fucking my best friend behind my back?”

It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach the moment that question flew out of Taehyung’s mouth. Nothing would have ever prepared you for it; for the inevitable confrontation you oh so much wanted to avoid.

But life can be funny sometimes, and it would put you through situations that would cause you an unbearable amount of anxiety and fear.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” His voice was the perfect example of exhaustion and disappointment; two emotions you didn’t want your brother to experience.

It took you exactly ninety-eight seconds to regain your ability to speak, only to scramble to find a poor excuse that would get you out of the mess you got yourself into.

“I don’t… um, I don’t really know what—”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Taehyung cut you off. “Is that what you were going to say?”

The words were caught in your throat, making it impossible to give him the answer he was expecting. But then again, would you be able to respond wisely if given the chance to speak properly?

“I’m sorry.”

The answer to that question would be no; you were not capable of forming a valid argument that would make your brother dislike you any less in that precise moment.

“You know, I thought you would finally be honest.” Your brother sighed, shaking his head in disappointment, “I guess I was wrong.”

No man will ever be worthy of messing things up with Taehyung; a mental statement that you prayed would be proven right, but ultimately it seemed like you were the rightful culprit of a crime you didn’t realize you committed.

“Tae, listen…” You began saying, but your brother was not ready to hear whatever you had to say.

“You wanna know what’s funny?” He asked rhetorically. “I’m not even mad that you guys are together or whatever.” Taehyung chuckled, humorlessly. “But you lied to me, and that’s not something I can take lightly.”

You knew that, and yet you decided to go behind his back to mess around with one of his closest friends. In hindsight, the outcome of your web of lies was fully deserved, however, it was hard to accept the possibility of the rupture of you and your brother’s bond.

Hoseok and Jimin, on the other hand, could only stand there and watch everything fall little by little. It saddened them, knowing that the messy situation the three of you were involved in would not be easy to deal with, and most likely would end up badly. Trust was broken, and wrong decisions were made. None of them pondered over enough to realize the weight of the actual problem. But alas, that’s the lesson you were meant to learn.

“Guess loverboy can drive you home tonight, right?��� Taehyung’s bitter tone was like a knife digging in your soul. “I’ll talk to you guys later.” He turned towards the two other boys, before retrieving his car keys from his jeans’ pocket.

With nothing left to say, Taehyung started his way back to his car.

“Tae, wait! Don’t be like that.” None the wiser, you tried to reach out and stop him, but someone else got a hold on you before you could.

“Let him be, I think it’s better for everyone if he cools down before you talk to him.” Always the voice of reason, Hoseok intervened at the right time.

It was hard to watch Taehyung walk away, knowing that he would probably let his anger and frustration out the wrong way. It was true that your brother would usually need some time to calm down and come around, just like Hoseok said, however, you also knew that Taehyung could be a bit impulsive and reckless sometimes. His well-being has been put to the test an uncountable amount of times, and more often than not anger would cloud his vision and the only thing he would see is red, which would cause a much bigger problem than him just being upset.

Truth be told, there was not much to do. It was either making the situation a whole lot worse by pushing your brother to his breaking point, or waiting until his anger and frustration had subsided. The latter seemed to be a better option, and so it was decided that you would let it go for the time being.

It couldn’t be that bad, right?

“Y/n…” a familiar voice rang through your ears, making you snap out of your thoughts. “Can we—?”

“Take me home.” You interrupted Jungkook harshly.

Maybe it was the way he was acting so cautiously; or perhaps it was the fact that he didn’t even attempt to explain what was really happening to Taehyung, but the idea of being near Jeon Jungkook for a second longer irritated you beyond belief.

“What?” He seemed to be taken aback, “I mean, yes, I’ll take you home, but first I wanted—”

“I don’t wanna hear it, just take me home.”

The hurt look in his eyes almost made you apologize, but the moment of weakness was short-lived; the frustration and worry you were feeling at that moment were enough to blind you, preventing you from seeing how your cold attitude was affecting him.

“Hoseok…” You started saying, “You coming with us?”

The brown haired man shook his head, sporting a soft grin on his face to break a little bit of the tension surrounding you.

“Don’t worry about me, Jimin’s gonna give me a ride home.”

Looking to his right you found the blond guy nodding his head, confirming that he would take care of Hoseok.

“Alright then.”

You started your way towards Jeon’s car, not really waiting for him; the sooner you got out of there the better. That place was starting to become a horrific nightmare the more you stayed there anyway, and it wasn’t really worth it to wait a second longer.

Jungkook was right behind you, like a silent follower, not uttering a single word due to the fear of being ignored. And somehow he was right about protecting his heart from your cold demeanor, for it was your silence he would get if he had started a conversation in the most inconvenient of times.

But how can you blame him? Had you been in his shoes, conquered by fear of losing the person who makes you feel more alive, along with your best friend, at the same time, you would be scared of saying and doing the wrong thing too. The only difference is that Jungkook wanted to fix things up for the first time. He wanted to redeem himself and be the bigger person for once; changing his usual I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude and not ignoring his responsibilities. Because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was just as guilty as you were, and it was time for him to be held accountable for his own actions and decisions.

Nonetheless, there was still that emotion that would prevent him from initiating a conversation that was already set to happen. Fear was, for lack of better words, fucking him up, just like it did you moments ago.

You could feel his burning stare at every red light you were encountered with, yet you refused to look his way, not giving him the satisfaction of staring at his doe eyes that would lure you into giving him the chance to explain himself. That, however, didn’t prevent him from finally gathering the courage to speak.

“I still wanna talk to you about tonight.” Eight words uttered with fear; a sentence verbalized with the utmost caution, only to fall on deaf ears. “I know you’re not in the mood to have a conversation right now, and you’re most likely mad at me, but I just want you to know that I’m sorry it happened this way.” A sigh escaped his lips, leaving him with a heavy weight on his chest, not fully finding the right words to say. “Things went wrong, that much I know, but neither of us had a way of knowing all of this would go down tonight.”

A humorless chuckle abandoned your mouth, cutting Jungkook’s speech off.

“An apology is not enough to fix all of this, Jungkook.” You started saying. “Taehyung must hate me right now. And for what? Me fooling around with his friend when I should’ve kept my distance.”

Anger, sadness and regret can be demonstrated with a variety of physical acts, but all those emotions can be also delivered through words, hurting as much, hurting even more. Like a knife digging in the soft material of a pillow, your response cut deep in Jungkook’s heart.

An interesting reaction, taking into account that the boy has never, not even once, shown an ounce of weakness around you. It is true that he was softer than most guys when he was with the people he trusted and loved, but there was a slight switch in his attitude when it came down to you. Was it infatuation? Was it stupidity? Jungkook wasn’t sure, but he knew well enough that the things you were saying stung more than they should.

“You say that as if you regretted everything that happened between us.” He dared to speak once again, after pondering what his response should be.

“Maybe I do.”

Why does it hurt so much the words that were flying out of your mouth? Why was the situation affecting him in ways that it shouldn’t?

“Maybe I regret everything, maybe I wish nothing ever happened between us.” You didn’t actually mean it, but people tend to say things that hurt others when they’re angry. “It doesn’t matter if I do, though, you knew this shit wasn’t even worth fighting for.”

Jungkook stopped the car abruptly, ignoring the honking of the van behind you.

“Not worth fighting for?” He repeated, clearly offended. “Are you hearing yourself? You’re acting as if all of this was just my fault”

“I know it wasn’t all on you, I played my part too, but why does it matter so much to you all of a sudden?” You inquired with a venomous tone. “You were the one who said this wasn’t anything serious to begin with. You told me not to get my hopes up because we were just friends who happen to fuck all the time.”

That conversation was engraved on your brain, memorized to the very end. It hurt to repeat the words Jeon said to you, it hurt to remember every single detail of that night, but it was time to accept that neither of you were meant for the other.

He wasn’t yours to take, he wasn’t yours to keep.

And yet you wished that at the end things could be different.

“So it was all meaningless to you?” Jungkook demanded an answer of you.

His heart was beating fast, his hands were starting to sweat and there was a frown falling upon his eyebrows, making him look sort of adorable. For you at least, Jungkook has always been like a big puppy in search of attention, seeking for people’s affection and love when he couldn’t even love himself enough to commit to someone. He was an interesting guy, that much you could admit, but it wasn’t enough to go through the hassle of giving it a try to an already nonexistent relationship.

“You just wanna end things like this?” Jungkook’s mind was going crazy, he couldn’t comprehend how you could act so nonchalant and heartless about it. “I just… I can’t just let you—”

“There’s nothing to end.” You cut him off. “You can’t end something that never started.”

Like cold snow falling upon his face in a swift motion; like a hundred knives digging in his soul and ripping his heart out; like the most saddening ballad cutting deep in someone’s mind to bring back the memories of a past lover.

It all hurt the same, it all happened as fast. It all was just equally awakening.

“Is that what you want?”

Jungkook’s dead voice wounded you just a little, but it wasn’t enough to stop your answer.

“Yes, that’s what I want.” You confirmed.

Without wasting any other second, Jeon started the car again, letting out a heavy sigh while maintaining a hard grip on the wheel.

And for better or for worse, not a single word was uttered the rest of the ride to your house; representing the finish line of a race that never even started.

Seven days, four hours, twenty minutes and thirty-two seconds. That’s how long it has been since the last time you heard the voice of your brother, or even knew anything about him, for that matter. Seven days since you last saw him; seven days since one of your biggest fears came true; seven days since Taehyung looked at you right in the face with an expression full of discomfort and disappointment, one that he has never shown until now. Seven days since Jungkook tried to talk you out of ending things with him.

Seven days have passed and not much has changed, besides the fact that you have felt lonelier than before. The monotonous routine of attending lectures, studying, going to work and then coming back home alone was damaging your mental health and your stability was starting to decay. Sadly, you didn’t have anyone else to blame but yourself. It was a hard pill to swallow, but in the end it was all the consequences of your impulsive actions.

Had you thought about everything more thoroughly, the outcome would have been way different. No one would have felt betrayed, because you wouldn’t have had the need to hide anything from anyone to begin with. No one would have gone home feeling broken or with a heavy weight on their shoulders.

A lot of things would have been different, but rather than dwelling on the matters that have already happened, you decided to keep your mind at bay.

Work and school kept you occupied, but it didn’t relieve the pain that was poisoning your weak heart whenever you received a message or a call from someone who wasn’t Taehyung. His two friends kept you updated about how he was doing, but it wasn’t enough for you; you needed to hear it from the guy himself. Which seemed to be a task rather difficult due to the current situation.

Jungkook tried to reach out to you a few times after that night, but on the fourth day of calling and texting you nonstop, he finally let go of the idea of fixing things up, with one final text where he poured his full heart, just for you. If Jeon had been any more honest at some other point in his life, he didn’t acknowledge it. For him that long text was his truest self, his bare feelings abandoning his body with the hope of reaching you on time. Nonetheless, you two were living in different realities, it seems. You didn’t even dare to read the message, opting to block him and ignore how unhealthy and wrong it was to act that way.

It was unfair of you to treat him so poorly, but your pride stopped you from seeing the bigger picture. You were at fault, in the same way that Jungkook was; both of you took the decision to intertwine your bodies that one night, and both of you decided to maintain the secret encounters. It was a crime committed by two bodies, but that sadly left three broken hearts behind. Two at fault and one caught in the crossfire.

You’ve caught yourself wishing you would’ve done things differently; no secrets, no betrayal. No guilt, no fear. However, it was that same predicament that led you to meeting Jungkook, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were grateful for that. Behind his fuckboy persona there was a kindhearted guy that not everyone knew, but that you wish could be yours; Jeon was, for lack of better words, the type of guy that any girl would love to have as a partner, but alas you wouldn’t be the one to experience it.

And that cold and saddening truth was what prevented you from ignoring your pride and reaching out to him.

“Y/n…” a distant voice called your name. “Y/n!”

Looking up from your long-forgotten class review, you stared at one of your closest friends, Eunbi. She was a 5’6, black-haired girl, with the personality of a fifty-year-old woman trapped in the body of a twenty-three-year-old girl. In better words, she was your best friend. You met her during orientation and you two hit it off right away; have been inseparable ever since.

“I’ve been calling you for a solid minute.” She chuckled lightly. “You okay there?”

You sighed, taking off your glasses to rub your eyes. An annoyed groan wanted to leave your mouth, but you were quick to suppress it before making any unwanted noise while being at the library.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just tired I guess.”

Eunbi looked like she knew you weren’t completely honest, however, she didn’t push any longer for an answer and you were grateful for that. You weren’t in the mood to explain the whole disaster you were into with your brother and his best friend.

“Wanna stop here and go grab some coffee? I’m kinda tired too.”

You wanted to decline and keep studying, but truth be told, if you kept up the act of trying to busy your mind with anything to keep it away from the topic you didn’t want to speak about, it would damage you more than it already has. So the distraction was greatly appreciated and a decision was rapidly made.

“Yeah, I could use some caffeine.”

Both of you abandoned your comfortable seats at the library, gathering your belongings to start your way out to the nearest coffee shop. The breeze caressed your skin with its refreshing wind; there has been a sudden change in the weather that has put the barely tolerable heat on pause. The gray clouds were adorning the sky, which in result made you curse under your breath for not having an umbrella with you.

“Seems like it’s going to rain.” Eunbi lamented, for she didn’t bring anything to protect herself from the water either. “We better hurry to get there before it starts.”

Your gaze moved slowly down from the gloomy sky, observing your surroundings with a deep sigh trapped in your throat. The saddening weather didn’t help you to cheer up, but maybe the tall guy waiting for you a few feet away would.

It took you a few seconds to realize that it was your brother who was waving at you while leaning on the hood of his car. Taehyung seemed relaxed and nonchalant, clearly not aware of the immense joy that he had brought upon you by just being there, due to finally seeing him after so long.

“Tae?” A small whisper fell from your lips. “Eunbi, can we raincheck? I um… My brother’s here.” You looked over your friend on the side, while smiling apologetically at her.

“Of course, don’t worry about me. We can have that coffee another day.” A soft smile was all you received after that, while your friend made her way home.

Uncertainty was quickly taking its place in your chest, making it a bit difficult for you to be calm and collected. There was a weird feeling making your fingers tingle, while your skin got coated with goosebumps; one that you rapidly disclosed as fear.

You feared the reason your brother was at your university. You feared the inevitable conversation you most likely will have with him, but above all, you feared the outcome of said conversation, scared it might break you more than the whole situation already has.

Your heart was pounding rapidly against your chest while you were, albeit reluctantly, walking towards Taehyung. His soft grin didn’t mirror your awkward grimace, already creating a tense atmosphere between you two.

“What… What are you doing here?” Your question came out rather strongly, in comparison to how nervous you were. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

Taehyung nodded, looking down at his feet for a brief second.

“Am I not allowed to come see my little sister?”

No, when you haven’t contacted her in a whole week, you’re not.

“I guess so.” You finally answered, opting to take the easy route and avoid arguing at all costs.

“Get in, I don’t want you getting sick because of the weather.”

A simple sentence that held a lot of meaning behind. Not only was it the fact that Taehyung finally had the courage to present himself in front of you, but he also continued to care for you, even when the prospect of the bond shared between the two being more than broken by now was a possibility he strongly believed in.

Regardless of the initial surprise that painted your face and that invaded your heart, you followed his words and entered the car, tossing your things into the backseat. The ride to your house was filled with an awkward silence, neither of you daring to talk due to not knowing what to say to make things better. Your brother would often sigh and look at you, only to give you a tight-lipped smile and continue driving.

It was safe to say that things were far from being like they used to be, at least for now. It had never been a problem to start and maintain a conversation with the older guy sitting next to you, but it seems like now it was a complete torture for the both of you to be in and share the same space.

A pang of guilt struck your chest for the awkward situation you were found in. A little voice at the back of your head telling you that it was all your fault, and that you should do something quickly to fix it up.

The truth was that you, once again, didn’t know how. It was uncharted territory, not even once in your life had you been in a predicament such as the one you were currently living. It was safe to say that you didn’t know what to do.

Despite being clueless and frustrated, you finally found the courage to form a coherent sentence to break the uncomfortable silence. And it was with a shaky hand fisting your skirt and trembling lips that you finally spoke.

“So… It’s not like I’m complaining or anything, but why exactly did you come to pick me up?” You inquired, staring right at him “You’ve never done that before.”

Truth be told, Taehyung didn’t think this through, he didn’t even imagine he would get this far; the only thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t like the current situation. It was already hard to digest the news of you and his best friend being somewhat together —at least from his perspective that’s what it was—, to add the burden of not being on good terms with you to the pile of concerns that Taehyung had.

On top of that, he felt guilty. Guilty for being so hard on you, guilty for not letting you explain yourself, guilty for not caring enough about you and Jungkook’s feelings before shutting both of you out. But then again, it was a normal reaction, one that was expected from him.

It was due to that that Taehyung decided it was finally time to talk with you and sort everything out, the only thing he didn’t foresee was how awkward and hard it would be to communicate with you after a week.

“Well…” He drifted off, stopping at a red light. “We need to talk… But I think it’s better if we do that once we’re at your place.”

It was decided, and silence had, once again, conquered the space inside Taehyung’s expensive car. You didn’t bother to try to break it this time, opting to save all your energy for the, most probably, draining conversation that you and your brother would have in a matter of minutes.

The moment you saw your building becoming nearer and nearer you let out a sigh of relief. Being trapped in such a small space with such high and thick tension engulfing both of you was making you feel upset. You were thankful for the fresh air gracing your face once you stepped out of Taehyung’s car, however, your joy was short-lived due to the cold droplets of water falling rapidly from the sky.

“Hurry up inside.”

Both of you made your way quickly towards the entrance, not sparing a second glance to your landlord at the door, but rather walking straight into the elevator.

Once you were in the warm insides of your apartment, you finally let your shoulders slump, while a tired groan abandoned your lips. Taehyung followed suit, taking his shoes off at the door and walking towards your living room.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll go change.” You shared before going into your room.

Comfortable clothes, that’s what you were seeking for. If a disaster was bound to go down, at least you would be wearing your soft pair of pajama shorts and that one shirt you stole from Jimin when you were over at his and your brother’s apartment.

It was a matter of a few minutes before you encountered Taehyung once again. His eyes were locked on his phone screen, looking rather entertained by whatever he was watching.

“I’m back.” You informed him, while taking a seat next to him. “Do you… perhaps wanna talk now?”

Hesitance and curiosity were invading your mind and soul at the moment, making you feel uneasy. You shouldn’t be so aggravated or feel so anxious, it was your brother sitting beside you, not a stranger. But then again, you weren’t prepared for the conversation, and instead of taking things easy, you were overthinking every single thing about it.

“I don’t really know how to start this.” Taehyung avoided looking at you, which in result caused you to feel hurt. “I wanna say a lot of things but I don’t think I have enough words to express them.” He chuckled lightly, fidgeting with his fingers while looking right into his lap. “I’m gonna start with the obvious. I was mad, that night at the race, I got really upset. I don’t know what pushed you to make the decision of hiding such a thing from me, but it really hurt Y/n.”

You knew that already. You knew that you fucked up and that it affected Taehyung more than he would like to admit, but it was the path you chose, the only thing left to do was walk through it and accept all the consequences.

“There was no need, you know?” It was then that he looked at you. “Like I told you that night, I wasn’t upset about you two being together and I never would. What you do with your love life or who you decide to be with is none of my business. I can’t stop you from liking someone, even if that someone is my best friend.” Taehyung let out a sigh, searching for the right words to say. “I got mad because you lied to me. I don’t like when you do that or hide things from me, it makes me feel as if you don’t trust me. And I really don’t want to think that’s the case.”

“It’s not!” You were quick to say, already fearing he would get the wrong idea. “I swear I trust you, you are the only person I actually confide the majority of my life to.” You sighed, feeling a heavy weight on your chest. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I think it’s partially my fault. Maybe I haven’t been doing a good job at being a trustworthy brother.”

You wanted to say no, to make him stop thinking that way about himself, but he didn’t give you the time.

“What I want to say is… I might have been mad at you, at Jungkook and at the whole situation, but I’m also sorry for how I reacted.” Taehyung finally let out the words that were bugging him ever since that night. “I’m sorry I shut you out completely for this long, and I’m sorry for not talking things through sooner. I can’t control the decisions you make, and most importantly I shouldn’t be upset about the guys you get involved with. I just…” Taehyung drifted off. “I was just worried about you getting hurt that I didn’t notice the big mistake I made. I didn’t take into account your feelings and how my words would hurt you and for that I’m so fucking sorry.”

Seven days, five hours and fifteen minutes. That’s how long it took to finally hear your brother’s voice again. That’s how long it took to finally sort things out. That’s how long it took Taehyung to say those awaited words.

Seven days passed, and not even once you stopped thinking about what would happen if you were to have the opportunity to explain everything.

Until now.

“Taehyung,” You whispered, “you don’t need to apologize, I should be the one apologizing. It was so fucked up of me going behind your back and messing around with Jungkook.” You sighed. “I didn’t think things through and it almost cost me your trust and love, and for that you have no idea how sorry I am.”

Taehyung smiled softly at you, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He said.

“I’m not, I’m just being honest.” You lightly argued. “Still, I’m sorry for lying to you, for hiding things from you, for… For messing around with your best friend. You didn’t deserve any of it.” A tight-lipped grin was sent his way. “I promise I won’t do anything like that again, I value our bond more than any quick fuck.”

Taehyung hissed, retrieving his hand from yours.

“When you say it like that it sounds weird.”

You chuckled, poking his side in a playful manner.

“Hey, I’m trying to be serious here, don’t ruin the moment.” You complained.

“I’m sorry, but it’s weird listening to my little sister saying she had a quick… well, that.” He grimaced, shaking his head to prevent himself from getting any unwanted mental image of it.

“It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scoffed, feeling suddenly defensive. “But that’s not the point of this conversation. What I really wanna know is… Are we good? Do you forgive me?”

Taehyung smiled at you sweetly, “Only if you forgive me too.”

It was a no brainer. You would do anything to go back to normality, to have your brother in the same way you have always had him. To not be scared of saying or doing the wrong thing; to finally be free of lies and secrets.

“I do.” You responded cheerfully.

You found yourself wrapping your arms around his torso, while resting your head on his shoulder. One of Taehyung’s hands came up to caress your hair, sweetly, while the other was softly patting your back. You were finally where you needed— wanted to be, and somehow it still felt weird.

There was a feeling of something missing, like a part of you was still holding onto an invisible string, tying you to someone whom you weren’t ready to face just yet. It didn’t take much to figure out why you were feeling that way, but it only served to leave you with more doubts and confusion.

Why was your heart calling his name? Why was your soul hurting for him? Why was your mind thinking of him?

All those questions were left unanswered, although you already knew the reason. The line between accepting the hard truth and ignoring your feelings was so thin that you didn’t even notice when you crossed it, but you definitely felt it. Like salt rubbed on a fresh wound, your heart ached just as much when the thought of Jungkook finally letting go of you was presented in your mind. That’s mostly why your heart, mind and soul were so desperately seeking his presence.

Maybe that’s even why you would tear up at night while staring at your phone. Waiting for a text, for a call, for anything that would let you know that even in some twisted reality, Jeon Jungkook felt the same for you.

“Youf shouf call hif.”

Eunbi was stuffing her face with a fresh baked bagel, not really minding how little you could understand about what she was saying, due to her full mouth.

“Could you please swallow your food before speaking? I can’t understand you.” A grimace took place on your face, while watching your friend enjoy her food.

You weren’t against Eunbi being so openly in love with whatever she was eating, but there was a limit for your patience when it came to eating etiquette.

“I said…” She finally swallowed the bite she took. “You should call him.”

A confused look was sent her way, while you took a sip of your iced coffee.

“Whom?” You asked, looking at her quizzically. “Be more specific, I just told you about what’s been going on in my life and I mentioned a lot of people.”

It took some convincing but Eunbi finally got all the gossip out of you. It was weird at first, to confess to someone else rather than to the people involved in the problem about everything that happened, let alone about your painfully obvious feelings. Because, although you weren’t ready to openly admit it yet, Eunbi didn’t need to know much to understand what was really happening in that complicated heart of yours.

“Your brother’s friend.” She answered after taking a sip of her drink. “That guy, Joncook.”

“Jungkook.” You corrected her with an annoyed sigh. Whether she has been purposely pronouncing his name wrong or she seriously couldn’t remember it, you didn’t know. “I already told you his name is Jungkook.”

“Potato, potahto.” Eunbi shrugged, cleaning her mouth after finishing her food. “Point stands. Call him.”

“Why would I? Didn’t you listen to anything I just said?” You asked thoroughly confused, “Clearly he’s not into me, otherwise he wouldn’t have said that it was a no strings attached type of thing.”

Eunbi wanted to hit you in the head to knock some sense into you. It was obvious, not only to her but to anyone who came across you two during those months of secret encounters. Jungkook, the rebellious and cold hearted man that anyone deemed as the raunchiest fuckboy, but that surprisingly most people would be willing to fuck. That’s who Jungkook was, but for Eunbi, for his friends and even for your own brother, Jeon was just a guy afraid to show his real feelings for you.

Almost too sickeningly cute, with his doe eyes and dumb smile, ready to go to the ends of the Earth to make you laugh or at least get a grin out of you. It was so painfully obvious to anyone but you how badly in love he was. It wasn’t infatuation, although at first it was a huge possibility; it wasn’t a simple crush despiste starting as one. It went beyond that, beyond the weak barriers of taking a liking of his best friend’s sister. It was more than just saying that he thought you were attractive, although he clearly thought that.

Jeon Jungkook had it bad for you. But how could you be able to see that?

The only face he would ever show you was one full of indifference, overconfidence and nonchalance; adorned with a smug smile and a pair of darkened eyes that warned you with a simple look that pure chaos was about to ensue. However, he did treat you differently than most girls. Jungkook would never get out of his bed at one in the morning just because your friends ditched you at a bar at the very last minute and you were too scared to call an Uber or a taxi.

He’s never remembered the coffee order of the girls he’s hooked up with, but oddly enough he remembers the exact amount of sugar you like in yours; Jungkook wouldn’t even remember their names. But yours? Yours was embroidered on the very front of his brain, not willing to erase it, not willing to forget it. Your order would be the first thing that comes to his mind every time he’s at a coffee shop, and more often than not he’s made the mistake of ordering yours instead of his, only to realize what he did a second too late. Your name was always at the tip of his tongue, risking his opportunity to fuck a random girl he met at a party. All because he almost said your name.

All those things were unmistakable, not easy to be looked over or ignored.

But once again, how could you be able to notice that the man was head over heels for you? When you wouldn’t even let your heart accept its own feelings.

“Do I really need to say it?” Eunbi deadpanned, staring at you with an annoyed look. “My god, Y/n, you’re not usually this dumb!”

“Excuse you?” You look offended, and rightfully so, but you were also ignoring the fact that your friend was just trying to make you see the obvious. “You’re being mean right now.”

“And you’re not being reasonable.” She sighed in exhaustion. “At least think about it, alright? If what you told me it’s anything to go by, that boy has it bad for you.”

Thinking is all you did, thinking is all you knew; it seemed to be like an easy task, but in hindsight it was way more difficult. It took you two more days to actually come to the conclusion that Eunbi may be right, and for those two days your mind didn’t have a peaceful moment to even worry about your upcoming exams. Your brain was completely fried at that point, full with possibilities and theories of what the outcome of finally confronting Jungkook might be.

The first possible outcome was the least feared out of the thousands.

If you were to reach Jungkook through a text, he would not reply. Now, that wasn’t really that bad, and in a more down to earth mindset, it would be completely deserved. Your not so reasonable side of your brain reassured you that he would and most likely will reply to any text you send him. Why wouldn’t he, after all?

The second possible outcome was one that you didn’t want to acknowledge.

If you were to call him, Jungkook would hang up after telling you to fuck off for not reaching out sooner. Seemed fitting and a very Jungkook-thing to do, but still you wished for that scenario to be false.

The last one was the worst among the assumptions swimming through your head. If you were to finally confess your feelings… he would reject you.

Rejection as a whole seemed like a terrifying experience. People would often avoid getting to that point, whether it would be them facing rejection or being the culprit of someone else’s broken heart. You had been on both sides, had gone through both experiences; it wasn’t anything you would like to live again. Hence to why you were trying so hard to suppress your feelings.

Poor and weak heart of yours, it didn’t choose who you love, but it certainly chose who you hurt. And as it turns out, it wasn’t only your brother who got caught in the crossfire.

Ever since you were a kid, flowers made you feel at ease. Their smell, their texture, even their bright colors. Anything about flowers was as relaxing as a day at the beach, at least for you.

You grew to be that one girl completely enamored with nature, and your fascination for flowers was only enhanced once you realized that people would use them as a token of love and appreciation for others. It was romantic, it was pure, it was honest. Gifting flowers to those who you loved and appreciated, to those who you held close to your heart, was such a kind and lovely gesture.

It was the purest act of love you could come across.

The meaning behind every kind of flower was such a wonderful thing to discover. Daisies were often a symbol of happiness and purity; whereas hydrangeas symbolize comfort in times of sorrow, especially at funerals. Orchids often represented beauty and strength, as well as the flowers birds of paradise. Roses, often associated with deep passion and love, had variations in meaning due to their colors; they could represent innocence and purity if they were white, or friendship and warmth if they were yellow.

However, among all those types of flowers, the ones you were holding in your hands at the moment were the hardest ones to carry with you. For no other reason than their meaning.

Striped carnations were often known for representing regret and remorse. They were used to apologize for past actions or mistakes.

It seemed fitting, so you bought the bouquet when you passed by a flower shop on your way to Jungkook’s house.

It took you way too long, but it was after one decisive night in that lonesome room of yours, fighting back the tears while finally reading those soft and beautiful words Jungkook used to pour his heart out, to confess his unmistakable love for you, that you finally made the decision. It was now or never, whatever the outcome of this might be, you’d face it and endure it.

So it was with shaky hands and wobbly legs that you carried yourself to Jeon’s apartment, holding the flowers tightly, afraid that they might disappear if you loosen the grip.

Several seconds passed with you standing outside his door, fearing that if you knocked reality might finally hit you in the face with the bitter truth: Jungkook didn’t want you anymore.

“Are you gonna stand there all day, or you’ll finally let me get in my house?”

That husky and seductive voice. It was hard to miss and hard to mistake it for anyone else’s. That particular voice tone has been playing in your head ever since the night everything went down. It was obvious who it belonged to, and the undeniable fact only made your nerves reach a whole new level.

“See, I wouldn’t usually complain about a pretty girl standing outside my door, but I really need to get these bags inside.” Jungkook didn’t seem bothered by your presence, and even if he did you would never notice.

Maybe you made the right choice to come and finally talk, or maybe you didn’t.

Truth was that as it has been stated many times before, you were very oblivious, so it would be no surprise if you read the room wrong. But then again, he called you pretty, right? Wouldn’t that count for something?

“I— Yes! Fuck, sorry, I didn’t know you weren’t home.”

First apology of the night; many more to come.

“Would you mind helping me get my keys?” The dark-haired man in front of you turned around, just the right amount to insinuate that you grab the keys from his back pocket. “The left one.”

Hesitantly, you reached out and dug into his pocket to retrieve the keys and give them to him. There was a light and soft touch when your fingers brushed that sent a slight shiver through your body.

It has been so long since the last time you were this close to Jungkook that you were already forgetting his touch, his smell and the way he could mesmerize you with a single look.

“Come on in.” Jeon led the way inside his house. “Get comfortable while I put this away.”

Jungkook was quick to make his way to the kitchen, getting the groceries out of the bags and setting everything in their respective place. It was hard for you to loosen up and get comfortable in a space that became foreign to you. Had it been any other time, you wouldn’t have thought twice before sitting on the couch, or even following him to the kitchen to tell Jungkook about your day while he loaded his fridge with meat and veggies. But now it was different. Now you felt an increasing tension between you two, which made you stand stiff in the middle of his living room, rethinking your decision of finally confronting him.

It was not that you were a coward —maybe you were— but more so the fact that you didn’t know how to have a proper and serious conversation with the guy in question. The talk you had with your brother was orchestrated by Taehyung himself, you only chimed in to apologize profusely, which shouldn’t have been enough but seemed to be more than sufficient for your brother. However, this time the ball was in your court, you were meant to do the talking while Jungkook was expected to listen attentively or at least pretend he was.

Maybe you should’ve thought this through before putting your plan into action, but it was too late to back down now, and in all honesty, you weren’t sure if you were capable to postpone this conversation any longer.

“I gotta admit, when Taehyung told me you were planning on paying me a visit I didn't believe him.” Jungkook’s voice rang through your ears once again, he walked back from the kitchen, becoming aware of your quizzical look. “Oh, he didn’t tell you we were back on friendly terms, I see.” He chuckled, beckoning you to sit on the couch with him.

Not only did your brother omit the fact that he was back to being friends with Jungkook, but also he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about your plans of finally talking to Jeon, which made you upset by default. You thought that by now secrets and hiding things would have been out of the picture between you and Taehyung, but it looked like it was only you who decided to go down the path of honesty.

“You two… Is everything okay between you and my brother?” It was only fair to ask, although you already knew the answer.

Jungkook nodded, looking away from you.

“He called me a few days ago to talk, and well…” He drifted off. “I would say that everything’s back to normal.”

“That’s good.” You nodded.

It truly was. It might not seemed like it, but you were equally concerned about their bond being broken as you were about yours with your brother. It would deeply pain you to know that they couldn’t continue to be the best of friends after the incident. It sent you a sense of relief that they were on good terms again, at least you didn’t have to worry about ruining their friendship anymore.

“Are those for me?” His sudden question made you blink repeatedly. “The flowers, I mean.”

Looking down at your lap you realized that you were still tightly holding the bouquet of striped carnations.

“Oh… yes, they’re for you.” Your hands moved slowly to softly place the bouquet on Jungkook’s palm.

“Why thank you.” He seemed surprised. “Usually I’m the one gifting flowers, not the other way around, so this is a first. Although, I don’t know if I should feel flattered or concerned that you’re giving me…” Jungkook stopped for a moment to look at the flowers more attentively. “Striped carnations.”

Of course he knew the meaning of the flowers. When has Jungkook not made you feel like a total idiot due to his undeniable intelligence?

“Yeah, well…” You drifted off, not really knowing what to say.

The dark-haired guy let out a soft sigh, while the ghost of a smile took place on his lips.

“Why are you here, Y/n?” Jungkook asked, silently urging you to answer honestly. “We both know you’re not here just to deliver these.”

You took a deep breath, avoiding his eyes for a second. In theory, it shouldn’t be this hard to answer his question or to start the speech that you have been memorizing all these days, but it was easier said than done. It was as if all the words in the English language had vanished from your brain, and you were left with dumb sounds that wouldn’t help your case.

“Maybe I should change my question.” Jungkook placed the flowers on this coffee table, before speaking again. “Are you sure you want to go through this today? It’s obvious you came here to talk about us, but how I see it, you might not be ready for it yet.”

You shook your head, squirming in your place to find a more comfortable position.

“I wanna do this, I really do.” You assured him. “I just don’t know how to start.”

The tattooed man nodded, carefully sliding a bit closer to you.

“Maybe you can start by telling me why you gave me those flowers.”

Jungkook, bless his heart, always knew how to get the best out of you. It was easy for him to get people to talk about things they didn’t even know they needed to let out. It almost made you think he had some sort of magic going on that would compel others to be open about their feelings.

“They… They symbolize regret.” You finally answered. “They’re usually given when you want to apologize to someone.”

It was certainly easier to explain the meaning than to actually do it, but it must count for something, right?

“Mhmm.” He hummed, waiting for you to continue with your explanation. “Why give them to me then?”

“Because I want to apologize to you.” There, you finally said it, there was no going back. “I’m sorry, Jungkook.” Taking a deep breath you continued. “I’m sorry about what happened that night, I’m sorry for the way I treated you afterwards; I’m sorry for putting all the blame on you when I was just as guilty. I’m so fucking sorry for the things I did and said.”

You felt like you could finally breathe, like a weight was slowly lifting off your shoulders.

“You didn’t deserve any of that.” Tears were starting to cloud your vision. “I didn’t mean it when I said I wished I didn’t meet you. It was so stupid of me to say it, getting to know you has been one of the most complicated yet amazing things that have happened to me. And I’m truly sorry that I wasn’t able to show it.”

Jeon reached out to wipe away the tears that were starting to run down your cheeks.

“Please don’t cry.” He begged, almost too quietly.

It pained him how aggravated and distressed you were, right in front of him. Jungkook knew it was only right for you to apologize but it wasn’t fair that you were suffering so much when he was at fault too.

“I’m sorry too.” He finally apologized. “I did things wrong, I shouldn’t have agreed to hide all of this from Taehyung. I knew we weren’t doing the right thing, but I let it slide because it meant I could have you longer.”

Jeon regretted how things went down, but it would be a lie if he said he didn’t enjoy his time with you. Jungkook knew that the moment the truth was out, it would only complicate everything for the both of you; not to mention that he was scared that Taehyung would prohibit him from being near you. Jungkook was so weak for you that he couldn’t stand the possibility of losing you so easily. And so it was decided that it would be kept as a secret for as long as you two deemed necessary. However, he didn’t really think that the outcome would be so painful.

“I just… I couldn’t bear not being with you. I couldn’t let you go.” Jungkook confessed. “I’m sorry. A lot of things would’ve been different if I did.”

“No.” You shook your head. “Even if you tried, I wouldn’t have let it happen.” You brushed the tears away, trying to keep your composure. “Could you please forgive me? I don’t… I don’t want you to hate me”

You were silently praying that the answer to your question would be yes. It scared you that he reserved the right to reject you and move on with his life. After all, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did, it would be rightfully deserved.

However, Jungkook once again proved to you that he was way different from what you picture him to be.

“I already forgave you, sweet cheeks.”

His smile, oh how much you missed his smile. It was the rainbow you needed to see after a storm. Like a warm blanket during a snowy day. Like the comfort you seeked when everything outside was falling apart.

It was so him, and it almost brought you back to tears when you finally saw it. Shining so bright and pretty on his face.

“And I’m afraid that there’s nothing you could do to make me hate you.” His hand reached out to cup your cheek, making you lean into his touch. “Would you be willing to forgive me too? I know I hurt you with the things I’ve done, but–”

“Yes. I forgive you, Kook.” You smiled at him softly.

“That means we’re good, right?”

If only it was that easy.

There was one thing that was still bothering you and it was the unmistakable feelings for the boy in front of you. Confessing has always been hard, but when it comes to confessing your feelings to Jeon Jungkook, it was ten times worse.

“Actually, there’s something I still need to talk about.” You approached the matter carefully.

“What is it?” Jungkook felt uneasy, he didn’t know what else you had to say, but it was making him nervous. As if he knew something bad would happen. “Are you still upset?”

“No! No, no, it’s not that.” You assured him. “I… it might be a dumb question but… That text, the one you sent me the last time you tried to reach out to me.”

Why was it so hard to say it?

“Did you mean it, all of it?”

A sigh abandoned Jungkook’s lips, and the hand that was once holding your face, slowly retrieved to fall on his lap.

That was it, he was gonna reject you. That was the thought running through your head. His lack of response set a crack in your heart, making you feel vulnerable, making you feel dumb. It was obvious what his answer was going to be, why did you even have to ask?

“You read it?” Jungkook finally spoke. “I thought you simply decided to ignore it.”

You sighed, feeling ashamed of your actions.

“I did at first. I mean, I only got to read it as of recent because I… might have blocked you.” You cringed after finally confessing what you did. “I know it was childish, trust me, but I was mad at the time and I thought it was for the better.”

Jungkook simply nodded, showing you a reassuring smile.

“So yes, I read it, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t surprise me.” You looked like in his eyes. “That’s why I’m asking… Did you really mean it?”

The words adorning your screen late at night while you were reading the long paragraph he sent you were engraved in your brain. It was all memorized at this point. You spent night after night reading every single word while tears were spurting out of your eyes, lamenting that you didn’t open his message sooner.

I would never forgive me for the pain I’ve caused you.

I’m sorry for being a coward and not saying this to your face.

You already knew how sorry he was, not only because he apologized only a few seconds ago, but Jungkook also poured his heart and soul into that message, letting you know how deeply sorry he felt for what he put you through.

This is me being honest, this is me being true to myself.

The confession was the hardest part to read, but it was equally shocking and relieving to know that…

I wish I could say this to you, face to face.

He indeed…

But I can’t hide it any longer.

Felt the same…

I love you, Y/n.

For you.

“I did. I meant it, with my whole heart.” Jungkook smiled at you, sweetly, delicately, lovingly. He wanted to express his love for you in any way he could, in every gesture, every word, every smile. “I don’t know if I might regret this later or not, but what I know is that I don’t want to act as if I weren’t so madly in love with you.”

His answer drew a gasp out of you. It was one thing reading his confession and getting to know his real feelings for you, but listening to him say it out loud was a new, different experience.

Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in the palm of your hands, as if you were the remedy for his pain; as if you were the only person worth fighting for. And maybe you were. He’s never felt any sort of feeling that could come close to the emotions he has experienced and continues to experience with you. His heart has never beaten so hard to the point of feeling as if it were to escape from his chest. It only felt like that when he was around you.

You were the reason for Jungkook's many sleepless nights, when Jeon could only think of every little detail about you that he loved so much. Your laugh, your smile, the way a frown would be adorning your face when you try to concentrate, or how adorable you look while playing with any pet you come across.

It was so hard for him to get you out of his mind; so difficult to erase the feeling of your skin burning against his, of your lips traveling all around his body to leave marks that he prayed would last a lifetime, because maybe that way, at least a part of you would stay within himself.

“I know you might not feel the same.” His husky voice echoed through the walls of his living room after a moment of silence. “And I didn’t say all those things in hopes you would reciprocate my feelings. I just couldn’t keep hiding it anymore.”

His words were running through your mind, as a distant noise. You wanted to say a lot of things, to scream from the top of your lungs that you loved him just as much, or maybe even more than he did you. But your brain and mouth weren’t connected, as it seems, because instead of putting an end to both of your sufferings, you opted to ask him:

“How long have you felt this way?”

Jungkook sighed, reminiscing about all the moments where he felt like falling in love with you. There weren’t that many, in all honesty, but every single one of them felt like the loveliest of dreams.

“I’m not entirely sure.” He confessed. “Maybe it was when I first met you and you were so nervous around me that you even tripped over your feet and fell onto me.” A smile was slowly appearing on his face, “Or perhaps it was when I picked you up from your friends house that one night. You were absolutely hammered and babbling about one of your friends doing a backflip while drinking a shot.”

“I was a complete mess that time.”

It was embarrassing to remember that night. You drank and ate so much that you ended up emptying your stomach the moment you walked in your house. The majority of it was a blur, but despite your clouded memory you could still remember the silly things you were saying to Jungkook.

It also happened to be the first time you almost confessed your feelings for him.

“You say that, but back then I thought that you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, with that green dress and your rosy cheeks.” Jungkook reached out to caress your face with his thumb. “The way you smiled at me that night… it was so hard for me not to kiss you until I lost breath.”

His words felt like a warm hug to your heart. Love is always a nightmare when you fall alone, and for so long you felt like it was only you who felt the chemistry between the two.

“Truth is, that I don’t know when or how I fell for you, it just naturally happened.” He smiled at you, cupping your cheek once again. “And I think it’s your fault I fell this hard.” Before you could protest, he continued. “How could I not develop feelings when you’re such a lovable person, Y/n. So caring, kind and beautiful through and through. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life and call you theirs.”

“Do it then.” A clear and determined glint was adorning your eyes. “Have me and call me yours.”

Your bold request surprised both of you. Jungkook wasn’t expecting you to say such a thing, let alone that you would indirectly confess that you wanted him in the same way he did you.

“What’d you say?”

“If you’re willing to have me, I want to be yours.” The anticipation was killing you, making all your senses be on the lookout for any sign of discomfort on Jungkook’s face. “I like you, Kook, and I mean it with my whole heart.”

Jeon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had already accepted the fact that you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. A one sided, unrequited love was all he got, but perhaps life finally decided to give me a breather and let him have the ounce of happiness that the boy desperately craved all along.

“You mean… you feel the same?” He asked carefully, waiting for your answer impatiently. “You lo—, no, you like me too?”

With a soft nod and a bright smile, you answered: “I do. I do like you, and I do love you, Jungkook.”

The words felt foreign coming from your mouth, as if you never imagined yourself proclaiming your love for the boy on countless nights. Reality, however, was way better than any hypothetical scenario where Jungkook would run to you to say it was mutual.

You could see the exact moment when your words finally made sense in his head, when he finally realized that this was not a dream and that you, in fact, felt the same for him.

“You better not be joking.” Jeon teased, still being a bit apprehensive that you might laugh at his face as part of some twisted prank to break his heart. “This is… not how I imagined this would go.”

“Me neither, but I can promise you that I’m being as serious and honest as I can be.”

“I believe you.”

And he really did; deep down Jungkook knew that even if life would want to turn on him and watch him suffer, you would never play a part in that. Your words felt sincere, despite the hesitation in your voice and your fidgeting fingers.

Jungkook was sure that he could lay his heart in your hands, and let you take it away to make it yours, and he would never have to worry of you hurting it.

“Now, does that mean we’re good, right?” He asked once again, with a bright grin on his face.

“Yes, we’re good now.” You giggled, sliding closer to him.

“So, can I kiss you now?”

You stopped in your tracks, with your wide-eyed gaze and tingling fingers, ready to feel his skin on yours.

It has been a long time since the last kiss you two shared, you would be lying if you said you weren’t needy for his kisses or his touch, and so, without a second thought you leaned in, stopping just a few inches from his face.

“Do it.”

Jungkook didn’t need more than that. Your words were enough to make him lose his composure and crash his lips against yours.

A warm sensation spread all around your body, filling you with ecstasy and the serotonin you much needed, also luring you to take more and more of him. Your hands started a slow trip up his torso to finally wrap around his neck and pull him closer than before.

Jungkook was holding you with such delicacy, as if he were scared that you would break. It felt like a lifetime since the last time he had you like this and the boy was afraid he would do something that could ruin the moment. Days and days Jeon spent replaying in his head those moments full of passion and need that you two loved to share; the times where he would have you in his arms, silently claiming you as his, while his lips traveled across your skin to paint your flesh with hues of red and purple. Back then, Jungkook could only hope that said marks would fade slowly, letting him enjoy the way your body had proof that the only man able to take all your inhibitions and make you reach the sky was no other than himself.

Now, feeling you like this, touching you like this, without the fear of someone seeing you and starting rumors, without the worry of hiding from your brother, and with the clear understanding that both of you feel the same for the other, Jungkook could finally enjoy the moment to the fullest. His warm hands engulfing you in his tender touch distracted you from his desperate lips running up and down your neck, and from his teeth sinking into your flesh.

A moan escaped from your mouth, parting your lips while a rush of heat conquered every inch of your skin. It was becoming difficult to keep the moment nice and romantic, without turning it into a hot mess of kisses and inappropriate touching.

“I love you, Y/n.” Jungkook whispered into your ear, before pulling slightly away to look right into your eyes. “I really do.”

His soft gaze ignited a bubbling feeling at the pit of your stomach, making you want to stay like this forever, just staring at each other with tender smiles. But a part of you knew it wouldn’t be enough, you wanted more, craved more, so it was no surprise when you pushed Jungkook to rest on the back of the couch while you moved to straddle him.

“Show me.” You asked. “Show me how much you love me.”

A sly smirk took place on Jungkook’s face, while his hands acted automatically to be placed on your hips and hold you down on his lap.

“I’m not sure you can handle it.” He teased. “That you can handle me.”

The tattooed man was looking for a challenge, to start a play of who can handle more before they get so desperate that clothes start to fly out all around the house.

“Try me, then.” You argued back. “I promise you, you’ll be surprised to find out how much of you I can handle.”

A scoff passed his lips while his hands tightened the grip on your hips.

“You sure you want this night to go like this? Don’t you prefer we take this slower?” Even if there was a light mocking tone attached to his voice, concern and worry were also adorning it.

Jungkook was still scared that tonight might be just a dream and that once he closes his eyes you would slip through his fingers to never be found again. He didn’t want to make or say the wrong thing, and it worried him that falling into old habits would do the damage he was trying to avoid.

“Do you want to take things slower?”

It was a possibility you never considered, but coming to think of it, maybe it was better to take it easy before rushing to do things you might not be ready to do just yet.

It was a fresh start after all, but maybe that didn’t implied fucking on the same night you two finally confessed your feelings for the other.

“I want you, but I don’t want to ruin this chance we have now.” His answer warmed your heart, making you smile at him. “I don’t want to make old mistakes and make you think I’m only using you for your body.”

“I know you’re not, at least now I do.” You assured him. “I want you, Jungkook, and I want this with you, but if you’re not ready that’s completely fine, we don’t have to do anything.”

He shook his head, wrapping both of his arms around your waist to hold you close to him.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay with this.” A kiss was softly placed on your lips, before Jungkook suddenly stood up with you in his arms, carrying you to his bedroom. “But if we’re gonna do this, let’s do it somewhere comfortable.”

“The couch was comfortable enough.” You giggled, holding onto him to make sure you didn't fall.

“Maybe, but my girl deserves better than that.”

The last time you were in his room was when Jungkook decided it was a good idea to stay in, instead of going out with your friends. He managed to convince you to stay with him, as he promised you a night full of food, drinks and his head buried in between your thighs.

Back then you didn’t care to observe the little details that made Jungkook’s room so him.

His walls were painted with a somber hue of blue, adorned with pictures of him and the rest of his friend group or his family. Your brother appeared in most of the photos, as Jungkook cherished every single moment they have spent together. There was even a picture of him and his dog, Bam, which was currently at his parents house, framed on the nightstand. The rest of the room was as any guy’s room would be; clothes scattered across the floor, that you would often steal from him whenever you were at his place; messy desk with cans of beer and energy drinks, as well as his computer and a pair of headphones; two vapes were also left on the desk, next to a pair of rings and a watch.

The bed was adorned with a single pillow and white sheets. He didn’t need much as he lived alone, but anytime you were over Jungkook would try to accommodate his house to make you feel comfortable.

“Sorry for the lack of pillows.” He apologized when he put you down on the soft mattress. “I didn’t know you were coming over, or I would’ve gotten the one you like so much.”

“It’s not like we’re gonna use it right now, so we’re good.” You chuckled tugging his shirt to bring him down to you. “Now, please do something, I’ve been waiting for way too long to have you like this again.”

“So impatient.” He smirked, running his hands up and down your sides. “Let me take my time with you, like you said, it’s been too long.”

Jungkook started a trail of kisses down your neck, while his hands pushed up the fabric of your shirt to knead your hot skin.

“We need to take this off.” He didn’t waste a moment to take your shirt off, admiring your upper body with hungry eyes. “Fuck, I missed seeing you like this, baby.”

Jeon didn’t give you time to reply before his mouth attacked your lips once again. There was desperation and neediness coursing through both of your bodies and it was palpable how bad you wanted one another, which in result made the two of you act clumsy while getting undressed.

Jungkook struggled to take off your bra and pants but he finally did, leaving you only in your underwear. His hands ran up to fondle your tits, feeling them and tugging at your nipples while his lips were rapidly traveling down to the place where you needed him the most.

“So fucking perfect, you have no idea how much I wanted to have you like this.” He confessed, placing wet kisses all around your inner thighs.

“Jungkook…” You called for him in a breathy voice, while squirming in your place.

The sensations he was sending right to your core were making it impossible for you to stay put.

“Please…” You begged.

“Please, what?” He asked. “What do you want, beautiful?”

It was hard for you to talk, especially with his mouth so dangerously close to your soaked cunt, but you managed.

“Please touch me.” You moaned out, hands traveling down to pull his hair and get him closer to your core.

“Is this not enough?” Jungkook inquired, playfully. He didn’t relent, getting out of your grasp to do as he pleased. “Do you need more, baby?”

A nod was all he got, but that wouldn’t cut it, not for Jungkook.

“Use your words.” A harsh smack was delivered to one of your thighs, making it jiggle. “Come on, be good and tell me what you want.”

Groaning you rested your weight on your shoulders to look down at him with desperate eyes.

“Please touch me here.” Your hand moved rapidly to caress your center through your wet underwear. “I need you so bad.”

“That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” Jungkook didn’t waste a second longer on teasing you, instead he made sure to take off your dripping panties, putting them to the side and forcing your legs to stay wide open. “Look at that, so pretty and wet for me, huh?” He ran his fingers through your folds, smearing your juices all over. “This is just for me, right baby?”

You nodded vehemently, chasing after his touch.

“Yes, only you can get me like this.”

The tattooed guy dipped down, placing a dangerous kiss right under your navel, so close yet so far away from where you needed him the most. A fire was ignited in between your legs, and Jungkook was the perfect remedy for that. His lips traveled down slowly, coming face to face with your dripping cunt. He took his sweet time licking up and down your folds, his wet tongue felt wonderful against your burning flesh, making you elicit the sweetest of sounds just for him.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” Moan after moan, your composure and sanity were slowly disappearing, leaving you with an ardent need to grind against his tongue. “Faster, please…”

Your boy couldn’t deny any of your wishes, and so his pace quickened in a matter of seconds, running his tongue up and down as fast as he could, only momentarily stopping at your clit to suck on it before continuing with his ministrations. Jungkook was avidly eating you out, enjoying the taste of your juices on his hot tongue and the feeling of your entrance clenching on it whenever he let it slip in. It was like heaven on earth, like a much needed meal he waited for so long. And just like a starved man, Jeon did his best to devour you until there was nothing else from you that he could take.

“Don’t stop, I’m so fucking close!” You could feel his fingers opening your folds to make their way inside your cunt, pumping in and out at a slow pace. “Oh my god!”

Your hands were still pulling at his hair, desperately trying to get a good hold on him to bring him closer and closer to you.

“You taste so freaking good, baby.” Jungkook pulled away to inhale some air before diving in again and smothering his face with your soaking folds. “Fuck, best pussy I’ve ever had.”

His nasty words were making your eyes flutter shut, with a stream of curses falling off your lips. It was ridiculous how good he could make you feel with his mouth and his fingers, you always wondered how he knew exactly what to do to make you see the stars. Jungkook was so good at reading your body, even better than you ever could; his touch was delicious, charged with the right amount of passion to throw you over the edge.

“You getting close, doll? Wanna come on my tongue, hm?”

“Yes, please! I’m so close.” You begged, breathlessly. “I just— fuck, need it… need to cum, please.”

A chuckle vibrated against your cunt, making you shiver. His fingers slipped out of your hole, leaving you empty and needy.

“Go on, pretty, cum for me.”

It was almost automatic; the moment those words left Jungkook’s mouth, the waves of your pending orgasm finally crashed over your body, making your legs shake and leaving your skin coated in goosebumps. Eyes fully shut and mouth widely open, not caring about the obscene sounds coming out of it like a chant. Jeon’s name was repeated over and over like a broken record, just like a fervent believer would pray away their sins, so vehemently, so desperately. His name was attached to your brain, making it the only coherent word leaving your lips.

“There you go, that’s my good girl.” He caressed your sides softly. “You look so beautiful when you cum.”

His praise made your head feel fuzzy and the fire between your legs was fueled once again, ready for another round.

Slowly you opened your eyes, blinking away the tiredness and trying to focus on the boy in front of you. His face became clearer and clearer, providing you with one of his breath-taking smiles.

“You good there?” Jungkook asked, sweetly, while a tender kiss was placed on your lips. “D’you wanna take a moment?”

You shook your head, still recovering your ability to speak properly.

“I wanna…” A whisper ran through his ears, prompting him to lean closer. “Want to…”

“What do you want, my love?”

My love.

Jungkook has never called you that before, and if you were to be true, it felt fucking amazing to hear him say it.

“You, I want you.” It was your final answer, looking right up at him with a fierce glare.

Your hands reached out to palm him through his boxers, feeling his hard erection twitch under your touch. The dark-haired boy hissed at the sensation of your fingers wrapping around his cock, while giving it a light squeeze.

“You don’t— shit, you don’t have to.” Jeon reassured you. “Let me… take care of you.”

“But I want to.” You argued back, slipping your hand inside his underwear. He felt heavy and warm, and so painfully hard that it made you feel bad that he had to stay confined in the small space of his boxers while he ate you out. “Let me taste you, baby.”

You were craving his cock ever since you stepped into his room; the mental image of his dick pumping in and out of your mouth left you salivating, almost whimpering at the thought.

“Please, I wanna make you feel good too.”

Jungkook closed his eyes for a brief moment, pondering if he should let you have your way or if it was better to turn you around and fuck you into oblivion. He reasoned, at the end, that he could do both. Jeon would let you have your fun for a moment, and afterwards he would completely destroy you with his cock.

“How can I say no to such a pretty baby?” He grinned at you, getting in a more comfortable position while taking his underwear off. “It’s all yours, sweetheart.”

Scrambling quickly to rest on your hands and knees, you took his cock into one of your palms, slowly stroking him and smearing the drop of saliva you spat onto his dick, to make it easier for you to move your hand.

It was such an amazing sensation, your small hand struggling to wrap around his thick cock, fighting your own urge to pump him dry until he was whimpering and begging. Maybe another time you’ll be able to see that side of him, but tonight you were determined to make him cum in your mouth, and so deciding you wouldn’t waste a second longer, you took his red head in between your lips, rocking your head slowly to take more and more of his length. Little by little you were able to fit almost all of him inside your throat, choking a little bit when his tip reached a bit too far.

“Fuck, that feels amazing, baby. Keep going.” He moaned, looking down at you and the way his dick disappeared inside your mouth with ease. “Just like that, don’t you dare stop.”

Your pace increased, ripping moans and groans out of the boy. Your heart swelled with pride for making him sound and act like that; it took you way too long to be in such a position once again that you were fearing you didn’t have the same effect on him anymore.

“Faster, doll, I know you can go faster.” His hand weaved through your hair to get a hold on your head and guide your movements. “That’s right, fuck, your mouth was made only for my cock.”

It truly was, his dick fit almost perfectly and without further complications. The way you were so eager to take him in, without flinching or gagging was truly amazing for the man in front of you. Jungkook was mesmerized by your ability to suck him off until he didn’t have much to give.

“Shit, stay still for a moment.” He ordered, placing both hands at each side of your head. You did as told, waiting for his next move. “There you go, I want to fuck this pretty mouth of yours.”

His hips swayed beautifully, thrusting in and out of your throat. His cock was reaching places like never before and brought tears to your eyes due to the effort of keeping your jaw relaxed and opened for him.

“That’s it, such a good little slut, letting me use you, huh?” He teased, smirking right at you. “You like it when I use you like this, don’t ya?”

It was as clear as day that you did, no need for an answer, yet you tried to nod, which only caused to boost his ego due to how much you struggled to move.

“Mhm, I know you do, baby.” His pace increased and so did his moans; it was difficult for the tall guy to be quiet, especially with the delicious feeling of your mouth on his cock.

All of a sudden he pulled away, letting you recover your breath and positioning you to lay back down again.

“As much as I’d love to keep fucking your mouth, I’d rather stuff this pretty pussy with my cum.” Jungkook leaned down to suck on your neck, making sure to leave a mark on a very obvious spot, where everyone would be able to see it.

Feeling like you belonged to someone, like you were a nice piece of jewelry owned by a man like Jungkook, it should have caused you a very different feeling from the one you were experiencing. Your eyes shouldn’t be searching for him, impatiently, to see that look of determination in his orbs that would tell you that you belonged to him and him alone. Your hands shouldn’t reach out to touch his back, sinking your nails into his flesh just like his teeth did in your skin; a weak attempt to reciprocate the feeling, to make it clear who was the only girl who would make the great Jeon Jungkook so desperate and needy. But they did, and you enjoyed it; you loved the hiss coming from his mouth and the shiver coursing his body. You adored the way his eyes softened for a brief second, while looking right into yours and straight into your heart.

It was like a stroke to your ego, knowing it was you who he craved, who he needed. It was you, and it would continue to be you for a long time.

Jungkook finally pulled away from your neck, standing tall in front of you and guiding himself to slide up and down your folds, coating his cock with your juices. His tip was nudging at your clit every time he went up, making you gasp and shudder.

It was a torture, feeling him so close yet so far from your entrance, the worst part was that he enjoyed getting you like this; Jungkook loved toying with you. And it was so unfair how much the boy could make you crave his touch, but not give it to you.

“Just put it in, for fucks sake.” A frustrated groan abandoned your lips.

You couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. However, you didn’t think about the consequences of your words and how bad it would end for you for demanding such a thing.

Jungkook stopped all of his movements, slowly drifting his gaze up, to look right into your eyes. His gaze darkened, making you recoil in your place, while your legs started to close in anticipation of his next move.

Jeon moved to get close to your ear and whisper, “I’m gonna let it slide just because I’m as eager as you to fuck you dumb, but be careful with what you say, princess.” Slowly, he pulled away, to then harshly open your legs and slap your clit with his cock. “Turn around.” He ordered.

It took you a few seconds to register his words in your brain, but finally you did as told, albeit reluctantly, because you wanted to see and feel him from up close while he fucked you into oblivion.

“Don’t turn your face.” He caught you trying to look over your shoulder, guiding your head to look right into the pillow.

“But I wanna see you.” You whined, not fighting him anymore.

“Shoulda thought about it, before acting like a brat.” A slap was delivered to your ass cheek, making you flinch and whimper. “And be grateful I’m being nice enough to fuck you, despiste your nasty attitude.”

Jungkook positioned himself with your entrance, anticipating the tight grip of your warm walls.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized quietly, in an attempt to make him relent and change positions.

“Too late for that, baby.” He chuckled while thrusting all the way into your tight cunt, not giving you time to argue any longer. “Fuck, this is heaven.” His head lolled back, placing both of his hands at each side of your hips to guide your movements.

“Oh my fucking god!” You exclaimed, feeling his veiny cock reach every crook of your insides.

Moans and whimpers were falling from your lips uncontrollably, due to how good Jungkook’s dick felt. He hasn’t moved yet since he thrusted in, but the sensation alone of being filled to the brim with his length was enough to make you see stars.

“Mo-Move.” You stuttered, trying to bounce back and create the much needed friction. “Please, move!”

Jungkook could only smirk, enjoying how vulnerable you were at the moment, completely at his mercy. He controlled your body and pleasure perfectly, knowing the spots and touches that would get you shuddering in pure bliss.

“Now you remember your manners, doll?” He grunted, slowly retrieving from inside your pussy, all the way out until your walls could only wrap around the tip. “How convenient.”

You wanted to argue and clap back, but it was impossible to form a coherent thought while being tortured like that. Jungkook didn’t care that he was also stopping himself from feeling the ridiculously amazing sensation of fucking into you, as long as he could teach you a lesson and make you regret your words and actions.

“Please, please, please.” You cried out, trying to move, but giving up after the tall man stopped you with a harsh smack. “Jungkook…”

The way you said his name made the guy feel some type of way, but still not enough to give you exactly what you wanted.

“You gotta ask me nicely, princess, and I might give it to you.”

He wanted you to ask nicely and ask nicely is what you did; gathering enough strength to softly utter the words, you tried to clear your throat to finally speak.

“Please, Kook, can you fuck me so good until I forget my name?” Such a sweet tone for such a lewd request. “I need you to fill me up with your cock, please.”

The tattooed guy leaned down, wrapping one of his strong arms around your neck while dipping down to whisper in your ear.

“Mmm, you sound so fucking pretty when you beg for me like that.” His gentle lips kissed up and down your jaw. “You did good, baby. I think you finally deserve it.”

Without previous warning, Jungkook thrusted all the way in again, filling you up to the brim, however, this time he didn’t torture you with a slow pace or any sort of teasing. Jeon didn’t waste a second longer and commenced to rapidly pound into you, until you could only whine and whimper.

His arm wrapped around your neck was slightly obstaculazing your breathing, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. It felt immensely good to be fucked nice and hard while every single inch of Jungkook’s body was engulfing you.

“Fuck, you feel amazing, baby.” He moaned. “Clenching on my cock, so good.”

His free hand traveled down in between your legs to rub your clit, making you so sensitive and causing even more moans to fall from your lips.

“Sh-shit, oh god!” You exclaimed with a trembling voice. “So big… so deep.”

A chuckle rumbled from Jungkook’s chest. He has always loved how dirty you would get for him, speaking nonsense about his size and how good he fucks you. It was truly an ego boost.

“Yeah? You like how deep I go, baby?” He panted, due to all the effort he was putting into destroying you with his cock. “You love when I fuck you like this, don’t you?”

You could only nod, it was hard to form a coherent sentence at the moment.

“Look at you,” he laughed. “You can’t even talk.”

You couldn’t protest, couldn’t even move. The only thing you could do was relax and allow your body to enjoy the way Jungkook was so avidly thrusting into you. Your arms and legs were starting to give up, feeling too tired to keep your body up; you just wanted to lay down.

Jungkook could feel your exhaustion, and so he quickly unwrapped his arm from your neck, to then turn you around and get you in a comfortable position, all of this while still fucking you senseless.

“There you go, better?” He asked, genuinely concerned about your wellbeing.

“Mhm.” You hummed, closing your eyes while your hands fisted the sheets. “Don’t stop…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jungkook felt like dying with the way your walks were clenching on him. Your pussy felt heavenly, so warm and so tight only for his cock. He knew he had already ruined you for any other man you could possibly meet in your life —not like he’s gonna let that happen, anyway—, and he loved that fact. The dark-haired boy enjoyed how you would only crave him, need him, beg just for him. This side of you, no one knew, he was sure that not even your past boyfriends got to see you like this. So free, so dirty, so beautiful and tempting. It was only him, and Jungkook could only wish it continued to be like that for a long time.

Amidst Jungkook’s wandering thoughts, he didn’t realize you had opened your eyes once again, looking right into his own, with such a fierce stare. Your hands started a slow trip from his thighs up to his chest, caressing his honeyed skin which was glistening with sweat; shining just right under the moonlight. Your nails softly scratched his flesh, making the boy tremble under your touch and lean into your hands to feel more of you. It was getting to that point where he no longer held power or willingness to be dominant. Jeon was starting to lose himself in you, in the way your cunt was wrapped around his cock, in the way his length would poke your stomach because of how deep he was; in the way your mouth was softly calling for him, accompanied by obscene noises that he only loved hearing if the came from you.

“You look so fucking pretty, Y/n.” The lack of a pet name sent a warm hug to your heart. You knew he was being serious; no teasing, no mocking. Jungkook was speaking from his heart, completely enamored with the view of you; panting underneath him while your body welcomed his embrace so perfectly. “I could never get tired of looking at you, my pretty baby.”

There were not enough words in the English language that could help you express how grateful you were for having a man like Jungkook in your life. But perhaps there was no need, since you knew that showing it was always more effective than saying it.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to mesh his lips with yours. His swollen lips moved slowly and gently, a stark contrast to the way he was fucking you. His cock was wildly ramming into you, while his lips were softly caressing yours. His tongue quickly made its way inside your mouth, starting a fight with your own to assert dominance, nonetheless, it was futile, that fight was already won by him and you could only back down and enjoy his touch.

“I’m so close.” You moaned, wrapping both of your legs around his waist to make him go even deeper. “I need to— fuck, I need to cum.”

Jungkook shook his head, heavily breathing while gathering his thoughts to talk properly. The feeling of it all was making him feel dizzy.

“Just… Just wait a bit longer.” He ordered you.

You groaned, fluttering your eyes shut while trying your best to hold it until he told you to let go. It became a torture once again. You knew you wouldn’t be able to wait for too long, especially with the change in pace and how deep his cock was reaching. His tip was nudging at that sweet spot of yours, making your whole body stutter and whine so perfectly that it made Jungkook grunt into your neck.

“I’m almost there.” He announced, manically pounding into you. “Just a bit more, princess.”

“I don’t… I don’t think I can wait… anymore.” You cried out, fisting his hair while your hips were desperately moving on their own volition, searching for some sweet release. “I’m gonna cum.”

It was not a warning anymore, it was a fact. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, making your body tremble with the waves of your awaited release. Rather than holding yourself back, you finally let go, enjoying the sensations and pleasure your orgasm brought with itself.

Jungkook hissed at the way your pussy clenched on his dick, making it almost impossible for him to keep moving.

“Oh, fuck.” He cursed, looking down at where your bodies were joined, feeling a bit lightheaded from how good it felt. Your cum was coating his cock, making it shine so perfectly. “That’s my good girl, make a mess on my dick, come on.”

His encouraging words only made it even difficult for you to come down from your high, but the boy couldn’t care any less. Jungkook rejoiced in the feeling of pride for making you feel that way, to make you so vulnerable and weak that the intensity of your release would make you go dumb and turn you into a babbling mess. Not a single thought was behind those beautiful eyes of yours at that precise moment, and Jeon loved how lost you looked, reaching out in need of his comforting touch to ground yourself after such intense orgasm.

Your hands found his, intertwining your fingers to form a hard grip.

Jungkook kept fucking into you, desperately searching for his own release, not stopping for even a second to catch his breath. He needed to cum and needed it now.

“Can I cum inside you?” Jeon was so quick to ask when he felt his orgasm building up in the pit of his stomach. “Please… I wanna fill you up.”

It was such a different side of him. The whiny and needy side of him you loved so much. His begging got you weak in the knees and made your stomach flutter with adoration.

You nodded, gently caressing his face while kissing his lips once again.

“Look at me, please.” Jungkook begged so sweetly. “Keep your eyes on me, I need to see you.”

“Let go for me, baby.” You smiled up at him, staring right into his eyes, while noises full of passion echoed through the room.

His whiny moans rang in your ears, making you feel fuzzy inside.

“Fuck, so good.” He moaned, resting his forehead on yours, his eyes never looking away. “I love you, Y/n. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too, Kook.” You said, breathlessly, feeling his warm cum filling your already sore pussy. “Just like that, so good.”

Jungkook kept rocking into you until his legs couldn’t hold him up and he ended up crashing into you. His strong arms slowly wrapped themselves around your frame, keeping you close and safe. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, with his hot breath hitting against your skin. A stream of incoherent curses were coming out his mouth, making you giggle. Neither of you dared to speak for at least five minutes, silently deciding to enjoy each other while recovering from each of your intense orgasms.

It truly felt like heaven on earth, whether it was because of how long you two have been apart, or because of Jungkook’s amazing skills; whatever it was you felt amazing and finally complete. The missing piece of the puzzle was finally here, making your life ten times better and brighter.

Jungkook was the first one to break the silence, with his babbling and groaning.

“What was that?” You asked him to repeat himself.

“I said…” He sighed, pulling away from your neck. “I’m fucking spent.”

“Me too.” You giggled. “But it was worth it.”

“Damn right it was.”

Jungkook finally pulled out, watching his cum slowly flow out from your cunt. Two of his fingers gathered the liquid coming out of you and pushed it back inside, making you gasp in surprise.

“We can’t afford to waste any drop now, can we?” He smirked at you while his fingers danced slowly inside you. “You always feel so warm, baby, no wonder why I love your pussy so much.”

After a few seconds, Jungkook retrieved his fingers from inside of you and wrapped his pink lips around them, liking every drop of both of your cums.

“So sweet.”

A part of you wanted to push him to lay down and ride him until your legs couldn’t keep you still, but you were so tired and exhausted that even the idea of putting any effort into making Jungkook lay down made you groan.

“Come here, baby.” Jeon wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, making your head rest on his firm chest. “Let’s rest for a bit before I fuck you again.”

You hit him softly in his stomach, causing both of you to giggle.

“Just how much stamina you think I have?” You asked.

“Not so much, to be honest.” He joked. “But it’s bold of you to assume I would make you work for it a second time. I’m not that mean, baby.”

“Yeah, that’s what you want me to think.”

You looked up at him, only to realize Jungkook was already staring at you. His doe eyes were looking right into your own, making their easy way into your heart. Jungkook had a way to always make you feel special whenever he looked at you. He did it back when you two were nothing more than a quick fuck, and he did it now when your souls were finally intertwined.

“I meant it.” He started saying. “I really love you, Y/n.”

“I know, Kook.” You assured him. “And I love you too, just as much.”

A soft kiss was delivered to your forehead. “I just wanted to make it clear. I spent too much time hiding my real feelings that I’m scared you’ll get the wrong idea and feel like I’m not being honest enough.”

Your hand flew right up to rest on his cheek, caressing his cheekbone tenderly.

“I understand the sentiment, but there’s no need to hide from each other anymore. I can feel your love now, Jungkook, and it’s one of the most amazing sensations I’ve ever had.”

Your words helped the boy to feel at ease. Jungkook was on high alert for any discomfort he might cause you unwillingly; he feared you would simply leave his side if he such as said that your hands were starting to get cold. That kind of feeling was something you didn’t want the boy to experience and you were more than happy to reassure him over and over again that what he felt was not only reciprocated but it was also enough for the both of you.

“Let’s sleep a little bit, I’m too tired to even talk.” You snuggled into his side, hiding your face in the crook of his face while your arms wrapped around his torso.

Jungkook smiled fondly, looking down at your already sleepy figure.

“Rest well, princess.”

Taglist 🏷️

@aphrwodite, @r1r111, @cholychi, @artificialsuicid, @tatamicc

[mywritersmind]

OK PUT MY NUMBER. - LN4

summary : Based off the gilmore girls scene where Logan and his friends meet Rory at her dorm!! Hope you enjoy <3

listen up : no warnings!! lando!collegereader

word count : 1017

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Okay, Franco. Last building!” A man walks past me as I rearrange the items I'm attempting to carry without dropping. “Please say it looks familiar!”

I grab my coffee and stack of books, eyeing the group of boys who have strayed into the girls' dorms.

“Ahh!” One of the boys says, his eyes closed like he’s trying to manifest his way.

The tallest (and that’s not saying much) and tannest of the group groans, “Apparently it doesn’t seem familiar.” He’s got a thick accent, maybe spanish?

“Hold on!” The other boy with thick waves finally opens his eyes and says, “Hold. On. Yes! Here, this is where she lives!” And for the first time, me being quite nosy, it finally works out in my favor.

They go straight to my dorm. My single dorm.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” I walk closer to them, the one in the back has his hands lazily strewn in his pockets and walks straight past me with no answer.

“Hey!” I follow them to my door where the other two are writing on what looks like a crumpled piece of paper.

“Don’t put your number, Don’t put your number!” His accent surprises me but as I stare at the back of his curly hair, I scoff at me being ignored.

“I’m not putting my number, I’m putting your number!” His friend says, a twinkle in his green eyes

“That’s my room.” I speak up finally, the three turn harshly and eye me.

“Ok, put my number.” The curly haired one, british and ridiculously attractive, says as he smirks.

His eyes examine me as his friend groans, “Are you sure this is your room?”

I nod, “I’m sure.”

“I could have sworn it was her room!”

I balance my books, “What’s her name, maybe I know her.”

“It was uh…” he uses his hands to talk, “Short.”

I raise a brow, “Oh! I can understand your disappointment… losing a potential soulmate like that.” The cute one close to me laughs, “But that’s still my room.”

He motions to me, “I’m sorry about the mix up. It’s just- my friend Franco here needs to learn that Guineess and blondes don’t mix.”

“Redheads.” Franco corrects, “It doesn’t mix with redheads!”

He turns back to me, looking tired, “We sincerely apologize and will now leave you with your…” he eyes my books, “library?”

I frown as the other two run up the stairs, Franco saying his memory is coming back. I slip my key out of my pocket and start to open my door, “It’s called being a college student.” I sigh at the heaviness of my books, though most are for my own pleasure, “I’ll leave you to your friends.” I struggle with my key more, my cheeks getting warm because he’s just staring at me.

The man bites his lip, thinking for a moment, “Ah, they can manage.” Before I know it, his (huge) hands are taking my books from me. I eye him at first but then unlock my door with ease.

“Thanks.” I mumble and step inside, he follows after me and I don’t shut the door. He sets the books down on my table, his eyes darting around.

I watch him push up the sleeves to his blue long sleeve and take him in.

He’s got curls, a clean face, and a muscular build. He's not very tall but still looks down on me. The thing I can’t help but notice is his eyes clashing with his dark hair.

“I’m Lando!” He holds out his hand which I shake with a slightly confused expression, “Sorry again about my friends.”

“Y/n.” I smile politely, wishing I had cleaned up my place or something, “And don’t worry. They're funny.”

He rolls his eyes, “Franco and Carlos are definitely strong personalities!” I laugh, “We’re visiting Carlos’ sister. She’s a freshman…” he looks nervous saying the year, “Francesca.”

“Oh I'm not very clued into the freshman circle.” I shrug, “I’m a senior.”

“Oh shit- I just thought cause the dorm…” Lando shakes his head, “I should have noticed, you don’t look eighteen.”

I raise a brow, “Appreciate it…” He scratches the back of his neck and I laugh purely at the situation of this random British man in my room, “Uh- where do you go to school?”

“Oh I don’t!” He seems happy that I asked him something, “I’d be…” He counts on his fingers, “two years out anyway but I never went to uni. I work with those two muppets.”

“Oh!” I can’t help but mentally scream that he’s in my age range, “What do you do?”

Lando looks nervous again, his facial expressions are undeniably impossible to hide, “We drive.”

“Drive?” He nods, “Like a chauffeur?”

“There’s a car involved.” He holds back his smile as there’s booming footsteps and two heads pop into my room.

“Lando boy!” Carlos grins, “He thinks he remembers!”

Lando looks at me, looking regretful but still walks over to the open door, “See you around, Y/n.” He smiles and god I’ve never seen a smile like that. I feel my cheeks go pink, smiling softly and waving.

“Good luck.”

The door shuts a second later and I immediately bring my books to my makeshift bookshelf, trying to ignore the smile on my face.

I’m being ridiculous, I know I am. He’s older, British, and I will probably never see him again! But at least I can zone out in class about something.

I pull a hoodie over my head when I hear a knock at the door, “Coming!” I yell as I stumble over the clothes on my floor.

Except when I open the door, no one’s there.

I think it’s some bored frat boys until I go to close the door and see a yellow sticky note stuck to the wood.

I look around but there’s no cute man around. I shut the door, leaning against it and smiling down at the note, taking out my phone and typing in the number.

[seospicybin]

THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART III

Bangchan x reader. (s,f,a)

Chapters: Part I / Part II

Synopsis: After a mishap on his part, you doubt that Chan is ready for a relationship but he is determined to prove it, except that he's having problems following your one condition. (17k words)

Author's note: Sorry for the late post. Hope you like the new chapter and don't forget to share your thoughts on it x

Chan has always been the type to run when conversations gets hard, when the truth is too heavy to carry. But not today.

Today, he is standing still, facing it head-on. His hand hovers over the wood, hesitating for only a second before he knocks again, his heart is beating out of his chest.

The second knock seems to last forever, but then, the door creaks open and youu stand there, looking at him with an expression that made it clear you aren’t surprised to see him.

Chan feels a lump forming in his throat—he was expecting more. Maybe shock, or even anger. But what he gets is quiet resignation, and that hurt more than he thought it would.

“Can we talk?” His voice comes out softer than he intended, laced with the weight of what he needed to say. His eyes searched yours for any sign of what you're feeling, but you are calm, too calm.

For a moment, you consider his request, eyes narrowing slightly before you step aside to let him in.

Chan exhales a breath he hasn’t realized he is holding and steps past the threshold. The apartment feels familiar, yet foreign—last night’s tension still lingering in the air like a ghost. He can feel the weight of his own mistake pressing down on his shoulders as he moved toward the living room.

You followed behind him, closing the door with a soft click before turning to face him, waiting for him to speak.

Chan runs a hand through his hair, his nerves making him fidget more than usual. He isn’t used to this—staying when things got hard. But here he is, about to dive headfirst into the conversation he would have normally avoided.

“I’m sorry,” he begins in the best way there is: with an apology

“About last night. I know it looked bad,” he winces as the whole incident flashes through his eyes.

Your expression remained unreadable, and that only made his stomach twist. He pauses, carefully find the right words to say next.

“I sent that text before you came over,” he admits, his eyes finally meeting yours. “It was stupid, I know. I was angry... knowing you went on that date. I acted out of impulse, and I didn’t even think she’d show up. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d come.”

You cross your arms in front of you, your silence heavy with expectation and he knows you are waiting for more.

“I messed up,” he continues, the next best thing to do is acknowledging his mistake.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve never sent that text, and I’m so sorry for how things turned out,” he continues, his voice tinted with regret.

Chan’s chest aches with the weight of the confession. He is baring it all, and the fear of rejection, of messing this up even more, is creeping up on him. He takes a step closer, his gaze softening as he looks at you.

“I just... I didn’t want to lose you. And when I saw you with someone else, it hurt. More than I expected it to,” He painfully admits, then he stops talking and waiting for you to respond.

For what feels like an eternity, the silence hangs between you and him like a barrier. Finally, you sigh, dropping your arms to your sides.

“I know it wasn’t great timing,” you begin, your voice calm but firm. “And I know you didn’t mean for things to go the way they did, but Chris... this isn’t just about last night.”

Chan blinks his eyes repeatedly, surprised, “What do you mean?”

You turn to lean against the back of the sofa, “I’ve been thinking about everything. About how fast all of this has been moving, and maybe... maybe I moved on too quickly from my last relationship.”

Then you look away as if searching for the right words, “Maybe we both aren’t ready for this.”

The idea of losing you now, after everything, is unbearable. His heart is sinking but he sees the doubt in your eyes, the walls you are building to protect yourself. And yet, he couldn’t walk away from this—not when he is feeling things he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“I know I’m not perfect,” he says, taking another step closer, his voice thick with emotion. “And I know I’ve made mistakes. But what I feel for you... it’s real. And it’s different from anything I’ve felt in a long time.”

Your eyes flicking up to meet his, and for the first time, he sees something soften in your expression. He presses on, sensing that this is his only chance to convince you.

“I’m not the guy I used to be,” he continues, his voice growing more confident. “Yeah, I’ve had my moments, and yeah, I’ve been a fuckboy. But that’s not who I want to be with you. I want this to work. I want us to work.”

The vulnerability in his voice hit you harder than you expected. You can see the sincerity in his eyes, feel the raw honesty in his words. And despite all the doubts and fears swirling in your mind, there is something about the way he is standing here, owning up to his mistakes, that makes you want to believe him.

“I don’t want another heartbreak, Chris,” you openly share, “The last thing I need is to go through that again.”

He nods, fully understanding the weight of your words but it only encourages him to convince you more, “I promise I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here because I care about you. More than I can put into words.”

For a moment, neither of you say anything. The room feels thick with emotion, but there is also something else—a glimmer of hope. Something worth fighting for.

You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you look at him, searching his face for any sign of dishonesty. But all you see is sincerity, and that is enough to make you consider his plea.

“Okay,” you finally whisper, “Let’s give it a shot.”

Chan’s face lights up with a warm smile, his heart swelling with happiness at your decision. But the joy in his expression doesn’t last long as you look at him seriously, your gaze sharp.

“In one condition,” you add.

His smile falters, and a flicker of panic replaces it. “W-What condition?”

“There’ll be no sex,” you say plainly, your voice calm and firm.

“No–no sex?” He stammers, looking at you like you’ve just told him he’s not allowed to breathe. His eyes widen, his mind scrambling to process what you’ve just said.

You nod, your expression unwavering. “I don’t want you to confuse this— physical attraction with emotional connection... Sex will only distract us from our goal.”

Chan’s mouth opens slightly, as if he’s going to protest, but no words come out. He swallows hard, blinking rapidly as he tries to gather his thoughts.

After a moment, he nods, though his expression is one of disbelief. “Okay... okay, no sex.” His voice is strained, but he’s doing his best to sound agreeable.

But then, something flickers in his eyes, and a small hope sneaks back in.

“Just sex, right?” He asks for clarification, a hopeful smile creeping onto his face. “I’m still allowed to kiss you...?”

Your eyes narrow slightly, and a sly smile spreads across your lips. “I’m afraid not.”

His face falls, the hope vanishing in an instant. “Not at all?” He asks, his voice horrified.

“At all,” you confirm, your tone playful but firm.

He stares at you, his expression a mix of shock and despair. “You’re serious?” He mutters, more to himself than to you.

You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow as if you’ve just remembered something else. “Oh, and that includes no more barging into my place.”

Chan blinks, still processing the former information when your next statement hits him like a second wave.

“I know you’ve been keeping my spare keys," you say with your eyes narrowed at him, "I want them back.”

He closes his eyes, letting out a long, exasperated sigh as if he’s in the middle of a nightmare he desperately wants to wake up from. But when his eyes open, nothing has changed. You’re still standing there, waiting for him to comply.

“Come on,” you say, nudging his arm gently, “give them back.”

With a deep, reluctant sigh, Chan reaches into his jeans pocket, his movements slow, as if giving up the keys is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. He pulls them out and holds them in his hand for a moment before finally passing them over to you.

“Thank you,” you say sweetly, taking the keys from him.

He watches you with a defeated look on his face, his shoulders slumping as you put the keys away. His lips press into a tight line, clearly still processing the fact that not only has he agreed to no sex, but now he doesn’t even have access to your place anymore.

Chan sighs again, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is going to be harder than I thought."

You catch his thoughtful expression and smirk, a playful glint in your eyes. “Well, you can just quit now,” you tease, the words light but with a hint of challenge.

His eyes snap to yours, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile. “Oh, just wait and see,” he replies, his voice low, but there’s a spark of determination behind it.

The teasing grin lingers on your lips, but Chan’s heart is set. This isn’t just about sticking to your rules—it’s about showing you, through his actions, that he’s no longer the guy who flirts and leaves when things get complicated. He’s here, and he’s staying.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head as if amused by his newfound resolve. “We’ll see.”

"You will," he boldly remarks, his voice steady, and there’s something in his tone that makes you pause. It’s not just a flirty remark or an empty promise. It’s real.

This time, it’s different. He’s different. And he’s going to show you that he’s ready to be the person you deserve.

-

When Chan thinks about it again, you’re not asking for much beyond that one condition—but deep down, he knows it’s more than that. It’s not just about avoiding physical intimacy; it’s about proving himself. He’s not the guy who plays games or casually dates for fun anymore. He’s not that fuckboy. He’s changed, and he’s ready for something real, something meaningful.

However, words are just words until he acts on them.

That’s why Chan waits in the lobby around the time you usually get home from work. To pass the time, he chats with the new guy working the concierge, trying to distract himself from the nervous energy building up.

The second you step into his radar, he can almost sense it. He turns his head toward the entrance, and there you are—pushing through the apartment door with a bag slung over one shoulder and another in hand.

Without missing a beat, Chan rushes toward you, grabbing the bag from your hand. “Great day at work, darling?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

You let out a low scoff, eyeing him skeptically. “And you’re still doing your best at work, huh?”

“Well, I aim to please,” he playfully responds, giving you a wink.

Before you can protest, he takes your bag to the concierge and talks to the new guy to keep it safe, leaving you standing there, eyebrows raised.

“Why... what are you doing with my bag?” you ask, looking at him in confusion.

“He’ll be keeping it safe,” he simply replies, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “While I’m taking you out for dinner.”

Before you can get another word in, he takes your hand, pulling you with him as he drags you right back out the door. You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

It’s clear: Chan’s not just saying things this time—he’s showing you.

The restaurant he is taking you for dinner is only two blocks away from your apartment building, and it surprises you that you didn’t know about it until now.

“How come I didn’t know about this place before?” you ask in wonder, chewing on your food.

Chan clasps his hands together in front of him and props them under his chin, “Maybe if you were being a lovely neighbor from the start, I would’ve taken you here sooner,” he teases.

You narrow your eyes and take a jab back at him, “And maybe if you weren’t busy taking girls home and avoiding them in the morning, you would’ve taken me here sooner.”

Chan sighs in defeat, putting his hands off the table, deciding to let the conversation slide. “But you agree that you like the food, right?”

You shovel another spoonful of food into your mouth and nod in approval, "Mm-mmh," you hum in answer.

Spotting something on the corner of your mouth, he grabs a napkin and, with a soft touch, dabs it away. You look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You had something on your face. Was I just supposed to leave it there?” he defends with his grin.

You take the napkin from him and finish the job yourself. “You know, you don’t have to try this hard,” you say.

It's not a surprise that you would think that way, that he’s overcompensating, but he's doing it all because he genuinely cares for you.

“What? I’m just taking my lovely neighbor to one of my favorite spots nearby,” he says with his signature dimpled grin.

Shaking your head, you sip your drink, unsure how to respond. Before you can think of anything, he changes the subject.

“So, what are we doing this weekend?” he asks, as if it’s a given that you’re spending it together.

“Bold of you to assume I have nothing to do this weekend,” you say.

“Well, if you do have something to do, I can only hope it’s me,” he says with a wink.

You groan and toss a crumpled napkin at him. “I have to work this weekend.”

His groan is louder than yours. “If you’re working weekends too, when do you have time for me?”

You shoot him a look. “As far as I know, you didn’t have a problem keeping yourself entertained before.”

Chan’s smile turns cryptic as he slumps in his seat. “True... but it would be fun to play with you.”

“You remember my one condition, right?” you remind him.

He tosses the crumpled napkin back at you. “There are so many ways to have fun without sex.”

“Sshh,” you shush him, glancing around.

“Why are you still weird about it? We’ve had sex twice al—”

You cover his mouth with your hand, glaring. “You might as well announce to the whole restaurant we’ve had sex twice!”

He pulls your hand away, grinning wide as if he’s about to do it for real, just to see the horror in your eyes. But then he bursts into laughter instead and catching you off guard by kissing your hand softly which makes you withdraw your hand immediately.

“Did you really think I would do that?” he asks, his eyes twinkling.

“For a second, yes,” you admit, a smile tugging at your lips.

“You were right,” he playfully says.

When the server arrives with the bill, you get ahead of Chan, placing your credit card down before he can.

“So you’re the one paying in this relationship?” he teases. “I could get used to that.”

“Don’t,” you warn, rolling your eyes.

The server returns with your card and receipt, but she also gives Chan a familiar smile. “I haven’t seen you in a while,” she says, flirtatiously and completely dismissed your presence there.

“Uh, yeah, I’ve been busy,” he replies, glancing nervously at you.

“Next time you stop by, I’ll give you a little free service,” she says, smiling a bit too much.

You’re not blind to her tone, but you keep quiet as the two of you leave the restaurant. Once you’re back at the apartment building, you retrieve your bag from the concierge, muttering your thanks as you take it. Chan offers to carry it for you as you head up in the elevator.

“You should invite that cute server to play with you this weekend,” you say, a hint of jealousy in your voice.

His smile grows, sensing you care more than you let on. He doesn’t respond, leaving you to wonder if he’s considering your suggestion. Even after the elevator doors open, he follows you to your apartment, still carrying your bag.

“I can take it inside for you,” he offers, clearly hoping for an invite in.

“I can take it myself,” you say, effectively blocking his plan.

He hands over the bag with a pout, lingering as you unlock your door. He leans against the doorframe, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“You’re going away for the whole weekend, and I get nothing?” he asks, inching closer.

You cross your arms. “And what do you expect?”

“A kiss would do,” he says, almost shyly, though the glint in his eyes says otherwise.

You shake your head, staying firm on your one condition. “No kisses.”

“Just a nibble then?” He grins wider.

“A nibble?” you laugh. “I’m not some... snack.”

“You’re not. You’re a whole damn feast,” he says, lowering himself to your eye level, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and not hiding his eyes from looking at them.

Your breath hitches as he inches closer, his lips brushing past your ear. His boldness catches you off guard, and your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your jaw. Then, just as he’s about to claim your lips, you block him with your fingers.

“You’re good,” you admit with a smile, “but not that good.”

For a guy who always gets what he wants when he wants it, this is frustrating. He lets out a heavy sigh then drops his head onto your shoulder.

“I have to go,” you mutter, even as you let him hold you.

“Just give me a minute,” he mumbles, nuzzling his head further into your neck, inhaling your scent like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

He savors the moment, holding onto you a little tighter, soaking in the feel of you against him. Everything about you—your warmth, your softness, your scent— oh, it’s all so right.

“I have to wake up early tomorrow,” you whisper again, rubbing a hand along his broad back.

“Fifteen more seconds,” he mumbles, discreetly letting his hand slide lower, only for you to catch it and place it firmly on your back.

You stay like that for a moment longer, neither of you wanting to let go until you finally pull away.

“Goodnight, Chris,” you say softly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight,” he replies with a smile, slowly letting you go, though everything in him wants to hold on.

As you take a step back, he does the same, the two of you locked in a gaze to keep the intimacy of the moment continues through your eyes until you close the door with a faint smile that lingers in the back of his head.

Letting you go isn’t easy, but sometimes he knows he has to if he wants to bring you closer.

-

Chan lies awake on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The weekend he had envisioned was simple: hanging out with you, maybe grabbing dinner or spending lazy afternoons together. But since you weren’t around, the plan had crumbled, leaving him stranded with nothing to do.

He could go out, like he usually does on weekends, but something in him resists. It's too easy to slip back into old habits, to fall into the routine of partying and avoiding the emptiness that comes with it. So instead, he’s here, in his apartment, doing nothing.

With a sigh, he reaches across the bed, his hand brushing against the smooth fabric of something familiar—your underwear. He’d kept it from that night, the night everything between you two changed.

Lifting it to his nose, he inhales deeply, letting your scent flood his senses. Just a whiff, and he’s already lost, a fire igniting in his gut. His cock twitches, aroused, stirred by the memory of you.

Closing his eyes, he lets his mind drift back to that night—the way he had kissed you, held you close, felt your warmth pressed against him. He remembers the way his hands explored your body, how he had parted your legs and exposed you, tantalizing and perfect, making his every nerve scream for more.

"Fuck," he mutters, the word hanging heavy in the quiet of his apartment. His frustration is palpable, throbbing inside him.

The thoughts alone aren’t enough. He needs more. He needs you. But you're not here, and that only makes the ache more unbearable.

Thankfully, his phone rings, pulling him from the spiral he was sinking into. He groans and drags himself out of bed, grabbing the phone off his nightstand. The call is brief, no more than a minute, but it does the job. It snaps him out of the rut he was teetering on the edge of.

It looks like Chan has to go out tonight after all.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he stares at the text that came through. Someone had pulled out of a gig last minute, and now he’s been asked to fill in. It’s a valid reason to get out of the apartment, at least. Better than staying cooped up and letting his thoughts eat at him.

Before he knows it, he's dressed and heading out the door. The club he’s heading to isn’t unfamiliar—it’s one of his favorite spots to work. Maybe it's the crowd, or maybe it’s just because he desperately needs a distraction tonight, but it feels less like work as he steps inside and feels the pulse of the music hit him.

He takes a deep breath and dives into the scene, ready to let the night carry him wherever it leads, all while keeping you in the back of his mind.

After his set, he decides to hang around the club for a bit, rewarding himself with a drink. It’s been a good night, the crowd was lively, and he deserved a little downtime.

He leans against the counter, sipping slowly as the music thumps around him. Girls have been giving him smiles, glancing his way, but he’s used to that. It’s nothing he can’t handle, especially now when he’s keeping his focus sharp.

Then the bartender sets another drink down in front of him.

“This one’s on her,” he says, nodding toward the far corner of the bar.

Chan follows the bartender’s gaze and spots her—a girl with a sultry smile, waving at him. She’s undeniably attractive, but he’s not interested.

Still, it’s just a drink, and rejecting it feels unnecessary. So he lifts his glass, offering her a polite smile of thanks from across the bar.

Before he can even take a sip, someone else steps up to him, practically radiating anger.

“Are you flirting with my girlfriend?” the guy growls, eyes dark and filled with rage.

“What?” Chan responds, confused and caught off guard.

“I said, are you flirting with my girlfriend?” The man’s voice rises, his presence looming over Chan.

“I’m not,” Chan says quickly, holding his hands up defensively. “She bought me a drink, and I thanked her. That’s all.”

But the guy isn’t having it. He steps closer, grabbing the front of Chan’s shirt with one fist. “How dare you lie to me!” he shouts, pulling Chan closer, their faces inches apart.

Before things can escalate further, the girl who started all of this rushes over, forcing herself between them.

“Stop! He’s telling the truth!” she says, tugging at her boyfriend’s arm and dragging him away from Chan.

Chan can see the regret in her eyes as she mouths, “I’m sorry,” before leading her fuming boyfriend toward the exit.

As they leave, Chan sighs, straightening his shirt and shaking his head. Maybe tonight, he should have just stayed in his apartment after all.

-

Chan arrives at his place, feeling weighed down by the events of the day. You've only been gone a day, but it feels like an eternity to him. Everything feels off without you around, stretching out every second into what feels like endless suffering.

He needs you. Desperately.

He knows it's late, and he isn’t even sure if you're home yet, but he finds himself walking toward your door. His feet move on their own, driven by an overwhelming need for comfort. When he gets there, he knocks gently at first, waiting in the quiet hallway. No response.

With a sigh, Chan leans his forehead against your door, feeling a sinking hopelessness wash over him.

“Please… open the door,” he mutters, almost to himself.

Then, to his surprise, he hears movement on the other side. He steps back quickly, his heart racing as the door creaks open, revealing you—looking slightly disoriented, your hair tousled from what must’ve been sleep.

"I'm sorry," Chan says, his voice soft with guilt. "I didn’t know you were home already."

"I just got home not long ago," you reply, your voice still thick with sleep.

Seeing you—standing there in the low light, with tired eyes and that familiar warmth—pulls at his heart in a way that makes him ache. He inhales deeply, trying to steady himself before speaking again.

“I’ve had a really, really bad day,” he admits, his voice low, almost breaking.

The truth is, you’re a big part of why his day feels so unbearable. The distance between you gnaws at him, creating a physical ache he can’t shake. He needs you, even just your presence, to feel whole again.

Without thinking, he reaches for your hand, holding it gently but firmly, as if letting go would mean losing his grip on everything.

"Can I stay the night with you?" His voice is heavy with vulnerability.

You hesitate, shaking your head. "You know that we can't—"

“I swear I’m not trying to do anything else,” he cuts in quickly, his eyes pleading. "I just... I just want to be with you tonight. Please?"

The sadness in his voice is raw, and you can see how much he needs this, needs you. You massage your neck, the exhaustion of the day visible in your eyes as you consider his request.

For a moment, silence hangs between you two. Then, finally, you nod. “Okay.”

From the way you're giving in with less resistance than usual, Chan can tell you're too tired to fight him on this tonight. He feels a pang of guilt but, at the same time, relief. A win is a win, and right now, he just needs to be near you, hoping his presence might bring some comfort, as yours does to him.

Once you let him in, there's no more talking. You silently lead him to your bed, making space for him without any fuss.

"You can have that side," you gesture to the left side, your voice soft with exhaustion.

Any side would do. As long as he's here, next to you, he couldn't care less. You crawl under the covers while Chan stands there, starting to unbutton his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Your voice holds suspicion, your eyes peeking over the blankets.

He smirks, pulling the shirt off. "I told you I sleep naked."

"Naked naked?" you ask, eyebrows raising as his fingers move to his jeans.

He notices the way your eyes fixated on his body, he knows you like what you're seeing so he makes a good show out of it. He's working his jeans open in a painstakingly slow motions, stripping down to his dark boxers.

"Your expression is filthy," he jokes, "what are you thinking?"

You let out a scoff and tuck yourself into the blanket, trying so hard to not to be affected by what he just did.

Chan can't help but quietly smiling in triumphant and comes over to the bed. Climbing into bed next to you feels surreal. It's more than just sharing a space now; you're sharing your bed.

The scent of your sheets is intoxicating, subtle yet enough to make him feel like he's sinking into you even without touching. He pulls the covers over himself, careful to leave a respectful gap between you two, honoring your one condition.

He rolls onto his side, facing you, while you lay on your back, eyes closed. The darkness wraps around both of you, the room heavy with quiet and the faint smell of your perfume lingering in the air.

"What happened?" you ask, eyes still shut, your voice breaking the silence.

"What?" Chan asks, fingers barely brushing the edge of your arm, almost on instinct.

"You said you had a bad day," you repeat, softly, your voice drifting through the stillness.

He sighs, staring up at the ceiling now. "Well, I went out tonight and I tried to be... good," he starts, his voice low. "But it turned out to be not easy."

You don’t say anything, waiting for him to continue, your presence alone urging him to be honest.

"I was at this club after my set, just hanging out. Someone sent me a drink, and next thing I know, this guy is in my face, accusing me of flirting with his girlfriend," he explains, his tone frustrated. "I didn’t even do anything. But... it just made me realize how easy it is for things to get messed up. One small misunderstanding, and it all spirals."

His fingers lightly brush your arm now, the contact gentle, but you don't push him away. He takes that as permission to continue.

"I don’t want to be that guy anymore—the one who gets mixed up in stuff like that," he murmurs. "I’m trying to be better... for you."

You don’t respond right away, your breathing steady, as if you’re already halfway to sleep. But your silence is enough of an answer for him. He feels calmer, just being here with you.

"He almost punched me," Chan dramatically shares to gain sympathy from you.

You chuckle softly, "So, the usual, huh?"

"The usual, yeah," he responds, grinning.

"But that's also where you're doing it wrong, Chris," you say, turning your body to face him and see his eyebrows knit in confusion.

"You're doing it for me." You say, resting your hand under your head as you clarify, "When you should be doing this for you."

That sinks in, and it hits him why everything's felt like a struggle lately. He's been trying to change because of external pressure—because of you—not because he truly wanted it for himself.

"Don’t get me wrong," you continue gently, your voice low and soothing. "I appreciate that you’re willing to change for me, but I want you to change because you want it. For yourself."

Your words, so calm and caring, open up a new perspective for him. It's not just about trying to impress or be better for you, but about becoming someone he's proud of. It all feels clearer now, and at the same time, he feels a deep sense of reassurance—he really is with the right person.

"Can we cuddle?" Chan asks, pulling his best puppy eyes to win you over.

You don’t answer verbally, but the way you open your arms for him is all the permission he needs.

Without wasting a second, he slides in closer, wrapping himself around you, his arm draped over your body as he nestles his head into the crook of your neck. The warmth of your body envelops him, bringing a sense of comfort he desperately needed.

"Goodnight, Chris," you murmur, patting his head softly.

"Goodnight," he mumbles back, sneaking in a kiss on your jaw.

You let it slide this time, smiling into the darkness before closing your eyes, drifting off.

Chan, however, is still wide awake, his mind buzzing with the proximity between you two. There's only a thin layer of clothes separating your bodies, and he's doing his best to respect your boundaries, but the way your warmth radiates against him makes sleep the last thing on his mind.

Still, he takes a deep breath, doing his best to settle down, grateful for this moment of closeness with you.

-

Chan is used to waking up unsure of his surroundings, but this morning is different. He knows exactly where he is, and for once, he doesn't immediately rush off. Instead, he nestles his head closer to yours, savoring the warmth of your body pressed against his while you're still unaware that he's awake.

The sound of your alarm blaring from your phone finally breaks the silence. You groan, forcing yourself to wake up, eyes still closed as your hand fumbles around the bedside table to turn it off.

After silencing the alarm, you yawn and stretch, your body still heavy with sleep. "Ugh, I have to go to work," you mutter, tapping Chan’s forearm in a silent request for him to release you.

But instead of letting you go, he tightens his hold, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. "No, stay," he mumbles, his voice low and groggy.

"Not everyone makes money from spinning records," you tease, a playful jab at his career.

"I’m not going to take that personally," he grumbles, his voice muffled as he refuses to lift his head from your neck.

You chuckle softly, your fingers naturally slipping into his curls. Gently, you start brushing them with your fingertips, feeling the texture of his hair as you absentmindedly comment, "Is this your natural hair?"

"Hmm," he hums, affirming.

"They’re a bit dry and..." You pull back slightly to take a better look, "...a little dull too."

"Mmh..." he hums again, clearly enjoying the gentle scratching of your fingers against his scalp.

"You should condition them better," you suggest, offering hair advice out of the blue.

An idea forms in Chan’s mind, and though he knows you’ll likely see right through him, he can’t resist. He lifts his head just enough to meet your eyes, a cheeky grin forming on his lips as he asks, "Can you show me how to take care of my curls?"

The playful gleam in his eyes is unmistakable, and you can already tell what he's up to. But the question catches you off guard enough to make you laugh.

"Show you how exactly?" you ask, raising an eyebrow as you pretend to play dumb.

Chan, trying to sound casual but failing miserably, stumbles through his words, "You know... we could, uh, get in the shower together, and you can, um, show me how to... condition my curls, or whatever…" He flashes you that dimpled grin, the one that always manages to make his adorable babbling irresistible.

You lift your head slightly, propping it up with one hand as you look at him skeptically. "You want us to shower together so I can teach you how to wash your hair?"

He nods, eyes wide with feigned innocence, fully expecting a refusal and maybe a reminder of the boundary you’ve set about physical intimacy. But instead, you surprise him by giving in.

"Okay," you simply say.

The stunned expression on his face is priceless, his eyes widening further as if he didn’t quite hear you right. "Wait, really?"

You shrug nonchalantly, "Sure. You want to learn, right?" You give him a smirk, teasing him without saying it outright, fully aware of what he's really after.

His grin grows, and for a second, he looks like he’s about to leap out of bed with excitement. "Yeah, of course," he replies, trying to keep his voice steady, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrays him.

Without another word, you swing your legs out of bed, standing up and stretching a bit before heading toward the bathroom. Chan watches you, dumbfounded for a second, before scrambling to follow.

-

Nothing could have prepared Chan for this.

The moment you slip your nightdress off and pull your underwear down your legs, his brain shuts down. His eyes roam over your bare skin, every curve, every inch of you exposed, leaving nothing to the imagination.

As if that weren't enough, you gather your hair into a messy bun on top of your head, exposing your neck—a sight that only intensifies his desire. He stands there, frozen, unable to decide which part of you to look at first.

You step into the shower, and Chan steps aside, barely breathing as the water begins to cascade down your body. He watches the droplets slide over your skin, wishing desperately that he could replace the water, that he could all over you like that.

When you turn to face him, he lets out a low breath, trying to keep his composure. His gaze travels down your body, soaking in every detail, every inch that he so badly wants to touch. He grips the shower stall handle tightly, fighting the overwhelming urge to close the distance between you.

Your hands slide down your body, the action as innocent as washing off yesterday's weariness, but in his mind, it's anything but innocent. You're driving him crazy, and you know it. The way you look at him, allowing him to watch you like this—it's tantalizing, almost cruel.

"Okay, first," you break the silence, your voice echoing in the small shower chamber. "We need to get your hair wet."

He almost forgot the pretense of this shower. He tears his eyes away from your body and focuses on your words, trying to remember that this was supposed to be about hair care. You take the showerhead and aim it at him, chuckling as he remains rooted to the floor.

"It's hard if you stand so far away," you tease.

He steps closer, knowing that proximity will only make things worse for him. Still, he obeys. The moment you're close enough, you bring the showerhead to his hair, gently wetting it with your fingers brushing through his curls. He's so close to you, his lips mere inches from yours. He has to fight the urge to kiss you, to taste your skin.

"Now it's wet and ready," you murmur, putting the showerhead aside and reaching for the shampoo. You work it into his scalp, massaging it in slow, circular motions.

"That feels good," Chan mutters, his voice rough with desire.

"Yeah?" you whisper, stepping even closer, your chest now grazing his. "You like that?"

"Yeah, I like that," he says, his voice strained as he struggles to keep it together.

The intense eye contact is too much for him, and though he's usually good at holding a gaze, this is different. He closes his eyes, trying to calm the heat building inside him. His body is betraying him, and the situation down there is getting harder—literally—to control.

"Okay, now we're going to wash it out," you say, grabbing the showerhead again and rinsing the shampoo from his hair.

Chan almost groans when you step away, the loss of your touch leaving him aching for more. He keeps his eyes closed as you instructed, but every brush of your fingers against his scalp, every sigh you let out, sends him spiraling.

"It's all good now," you say, smiling as you wipe a stray bit of foam from his face.

He's at ease, yet burning inside. He feels taken care of, but also teased to the brink of madness.

"What's next?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"We're going to condition it next," you explain, turning away to get the conditioner. "Your curls need moisture, so you have to condition regularly. Or just condition without shampooing sometimes."

He nods, barely hearing your words. The proximity, the feel of your breath on his ear, is driving him wild. As you apply the conditioner, you're even closer than before, so close that he can feel your breath on his neck. He’s barely holding on.

Then you ask, casually, "Do you want me to wash your body too?"

The offer hits him like a shockwave, and for a moment, he can't speak. Blinking, he nods, his heart pounding. You take a bar of soap, lathering it up before sliding your hands over his skin. Every touch is electric, and when your hand glides over his abs, he clenches them, trying to maintain control. Your hand goes lower, tracing the path along his pelvic bone.

But then, mercifully, your hand moves away. You rub down his legs and even grab his rear, making him chuckle nervously.

"Something funny?" you ask, feigning innocence.

"Nothing," he replies, swallowing hard as he lets you continue. He’s letting you do whatever you want, helpless under your hands.

When you finish, the two of you just stand there under the warm water, the tension in the air thickening by the second. The bathroom feels smaller, the space between you more unbearable.

Chan snaps. He grabs your hips roughly and pulls you flush against him, his body fitting against yours perfectly. He presses his lips against your neck, kissing the soft spot under your ear. His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his dark, lust-filled gaze.

"What’s next?" he growls.

You wrap your arms around his neck, dragging your lips along his jaw until your mouth hovers near his ear.

"I'm going out of the shower," you whisper, "and I'll give you a few minutes to..." Your eyes flick downward, pointedly glancing at his hardening member. "...sort out your situation."

You kiss his cheek and step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself. With one last playful smile, you say, "I can't be late for work."

And just like that, you leave him standing there—wet, aroused, and utterly flabbergasted.

-

Chan’s life is different now—less chaotic, more focused. He’s found a new rhythm, avoiding old habits and temptations, reminding himself that he can be better. At work, he's polite, giving empty promises when girls ask him for drinks, knowing full well he has no intention of following through. His nights out have become rare, and if he feels that sexual urges, he'll channel that energy into working out at the gym.

Tonight, he's watching for you, keeping his apartment door open so he can see when you arrive home. The moment he hears the elevator chime, he rushes to the door and spots you stepping out, looking exhausted from work.

“Hey, neighbor,” he greets, leaning casually against the doorframe.

You give him a tired but warm smile. “Hey.”

Chan walks over, grabbing one of your bags to help lighten your load. “Come on, I cooked us dinner.”

The sight of you eating so well makes him feel proud. Every bite you take feels like a reward for the time he spent preparing the meal. When you finish your plate and look at him with a shy smile, asking for more, he grins and happily gets up, placing more fried rice on your plate.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely as he refills your glass of water before sitting back down.

“You’re very welcome,” Chan responds, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment.

Dinner ends with a cold can of beer, and soon, you're both on the sofa, enjoying the comfortable silence that fills the space. Chan sits there, the question he’s been wanting to ask weighing on his mind. He takes a breath.

“Do you have plans this Saturday?” he asks casually.

“Why?” you inquire, taking a sip of water, sensing something behind the question.

“A friend asked me to play at his sister’s wedding,” he explains, his arm resting on the back of the sofa, his hand just brushing your shoulder. “and I want you to come with me.”

“As a date?” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Chan grins, trying to suppress his excitement. “As a date, yes.”

“I’d love to,” you say, but something in your tone makes him sense there’s more.

“But?” he asks, bracing for the letdown.

“I can’t. I have a guest coming over that day,” you explain apologetically.

“A guest?” His eyebrows raise in curiosity.

You nod. “Yeah, a guest.”

“Family?”

“No.”

“Colleague?”

“Nope.”

“Friends?” he asks, growing more curious with each question.

You shake your head, hesitating for a moment before finally revealing, “Ex-boyfriend.”

Chan leans back, exasperated. “So, you're not coming with me because Lee is coming over?”

“Yes,” you answer, trying to keep things simple.

He stares at you, dumbfounded. “But why?”

“Because I told him to,” you respond, trying to sound nonchalant, though you know it’s frustrating him.

“What?!” Chan looks at you in disbelief, his eyes wide.

You laugh softly at his reaction, putting your glass down and settling into the couch. “I’ve seen how hard you’ve been trying to make this work, so, I thought maybe it’s time I do my part too.”

He’s silent, listening intently, trying to understand what you mean.

“I told Lee to come so he can take his things from my place,” you explain. “That way, I can have space for… new things.”

Chan’s pout fades into a smile as the meaning behind your words sinks in. Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, holding it gently on your lap. For a moment, he can’t believe it—the two of you are really doing this. You're starting fresh, together.

“Okay,” he says softly, understanding now. “I get it.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, smiling back at him.

“I still want you to come with me, though,” he says, the hint of disappointment still lingering.

“I’m sorry,” you reply, genuinely apologetic. Then, with a playful glint in your eyes, you offer, “But I can still help you with your hair if you want.”

Chan laughs, his grin returning. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”

Later, when he walks you to your apartment door, he dreads the moment of parting. You share a long, warm embrace, and as usual, you're the first to pull away, though you keep holding his hand for just a little longer.

“Thank you again for dinner,” you say softly.

Chan smirks, joking to lighten the mood. “If you’re really thankful, you should dream of me tonight.”

You smile, playing along. “I’ll try.”

“And I’ll try to dream of you too,” he pauses, his voice dropping to a mischievous whisper, “preferably naked.”

You scoff, shaking your head with a laugh. “Good luck with that!”

He gently caresses your face, his eyes warm as they meet yours. “Goodnight,” he says softly, then adds with a smirk, “I think we should start picking pet names.”

You shake your head, but there’s a smile on your face as you step back, ready to go. “Goodnight, Chris.”

“Goodnight… baby?” he tries, testing out the pet name.

You say nothing, just smiling at him one last time before you let go of his hand and step inside, leaving him standing there, heart fluttering, wondering when he’ll get to hold you again.

-

Chan stands in front of the mirror, buttoning up his shirt, though leaving the cuffs open for now. He can’t help but think what a shame it is—looking this good and going to the wedding without a date. You had refused his invitation, but he can’t fault you for it. There’s something good in your intentions, and all he can do is be understanding.

He’s about to grab his suit jacket when there’s a knock at the door. With a smile, he heads to open it, already knowing who it is.

There you stand, a can of hairspray in one hand and a hair straightener in the other. “It’s your hair appointment,” you announce with a grin.

Chan chuckles and motions you inside. He sits in front of the mirror while you stand behind him, carefully styling his hair. As he watches you work, he’s struck by how focused you look—creases forming between your brows, your lips slightly pursed in concentration. He never thought it was possible for someone to be both cute and sexy at the same time, but here you are, proving him wrong.

“Would that suffice?” you ask after spraying his hair one last time.

“No,” Chan says, his tone playful, “not if you’re not coming with me.”

You smile but don’t respond, busying yourself with taming the last few stray hairs at the nape of his neck. “You’re done now,” you announce, satisfied with your work.

He glances at himself in the mirror and smiles. “Aren’t you going to kiss me on the cheek and tell me I look handsome?”

“I don’t remember saying that,” you tease, tidying up the clutter on the table.

Chan stands, smoothing down his shirt, but there’s one more thing to complete his look. He picks up the tie from the table and holds it out to you. “We still have a problem here.”

You glance up, understanding immediately. Without a word, you take the tie from his hands and skillfully knot it around his collar. Your fingers work quickly, and before long, the tie is secured neatly in place.

“Okay, you’re ready now,” you say with a nod.

Chan puts on his suit jacket, then spins around with his arms spread wide, showing off the full look. “How do I look?”

You step closer, and to his surprise, you plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “You look handsome,” you say with a soft smile.

He stands there for a moment, warmth spreading through him from that simple gesture. It’s enough to make him feel like he’s already won, even if he’s going to the wedding alone. He places his hands gently on your waist and pulls you closer, his voice soft but persuasive.

"It's not too late to text Lee and tell him to come another day," he suggests, his eyes searching yours for any sign of reconsideration.

You chuckle lightly, looping your arms around his shoulders. "I don’t think it's wise to cancel it on the last minute," you explain, your tone gentle but firm.

He nods, accepting your decision even though it’s not the answer he wanted. At least you have a good reason, and it’s not as if you’re choosing your ex over him. But the tension lingers, and Chan pulls you even closer, savoring this tender moment before Lee shows up and disrupts his day. He knows he has no reason to be jealous, but it nags at him anyway—what if Lee has other intentions with this visit?

"Can't you just... put his things in a box and mail it to him?" He asks, a hint of frustration seeping into his voice.

You chuckle again, tilting your head slightly. "We’re grown-ups, Chris. We broke up on good terms. I don’t see why we can’t be civil after everything."

Chan tightens his grip around you, his eyes narrowing with playful suspicion. "But what if he asks you to get back with him?"

Instead of answering, you raise an eyebrow and ask, "And you think I’d say yes?"

His grin widens, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

You shake your head, smiling. "Oh, Chris... you're ridiculous."

He sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. "Yeah, but I had to ask. I just don't like the idea of him coming around."

"He's just going to come, pick up his things, and leave," you explain, trying to reassure Chan that there’s no need for jealousy.

Chan takes the opportunity to pull you even closer, his arms tightening around you with a possessive gleam in his eyes. "No deep talking, no reminiscing the shared memories, okay? No smiling either," he warns, his voice full of playful intensity.

You laugh at his protectiveness, letting him rest his forehead against yours.

"I love the way you smile," he says suddenly, the words catching you off guard. "I want to tell you to do it more often, but I don't."

"Why?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

"Because you don’t give it to everyone," Chan murmurs, his lips grazing your cheek as he moves to whisper in your ear. "And I don’t plan on sharing you."

The possessive edge in his voice stirs something in you, and you feel yourself relax, leaning into his embrace. His fingers cup your jaw, tilting your head ever so slightly as he draws closer, his gaze flicking down to your lips.

Just as he’s about to close the gap, a knock sounds—not on his door, but across the hall. You gently break away from his hold, heading to check with Chan trailing behind, a bit flustered.

"Oh, Lee, I'm sorry, I was at Chris's place," you say as you open the door and spot your ex, Lee, standing there.

"Oh hey," Lee greets you, stepping forward and pulling you into a hug. A hug that, to Chan, feels way too long. Chan clears his throat loudly, making his presence known.

Lee finally lets go of you and acknowledges him. "Oh, hey, Chris," Lee says, extending his hand for a handshake.

Chan hates that Lee’s actually being nice—he's a good guy, and that makes him feel like the bad guy.

"Hey, Lee," Chan mutters, reluctantly shaking his hand.

"You look dashing. Going somewhere?" Lee asks, genuinely.

"Yeah, uh... a friend's wedding," Chan replies, his earlier hostility fading slightly.

As they exchange pleasantries, you unlock your door and gesture for Lee to come inside. "Please, come in," you say.

"Are you joining us, Chris?" Lee asks, seriously offering for him to stay.

Chan would love nothing more than to stay and keep an eye on things, but he checks the time on his phone and realizes he’s already pushing it if he doesn’t leave now. "I have to go, actually," he says, regret heavy in his voice.

"What a pity! I brought us food," Lee says to you, smiling. "It’s the baked ziti from your favorite place."

You smile awkwardly, glancing at Chan. "That’s so nice of you, Lee."

"See you next time, Chris," Lee says as he steps into your apartment.

Chan sighs, feeling torn between wanting to stay and knowing he has to leave. His chest tightens as he glances at you one last time.

"I’ll see you later, okay?" you say, smiling, though it does little to comfort him.

"Don’t smile at him!" Chan grumbles, trying to cling to his playfully jealous tone.

You laugh softly and surprise him by stepping forward, placing a quick but tender peck on his lips. The brief contact sends butterflies swirling in his stomach.

"Have fun at the wedding," you say sweetly, flashing him one last smile before closing the door.

Chan stands there for a moment, his heart racing, the taste of your lips lingering. He shakes his head, smiling to himself as he turns to leave, knowing that despite everything, you’re still his.

-

Seeing that most of the guests have already left and only a few remain on the dance floor, Chan decides it’s time to wrap up his set. Grabbing the mic, he announces, "Everyone, this is the last dance."

His suit is no longer in its proper form—he ditched the jacket long ago, his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck. He inhales deeply, satisfied with a job well done.

As he packs up, his friend, the groom's brother, hands him a bottle of champagne as a token of gratitude. "You killed it, mate. Thanks for stepping in."

"Anytime, man," Chan says with a grin, accepting the bottle. Just as he’s about to take a sip, a voice interrupts him.

"Are you planning on sharing that?"

He turns around, surprised to see someone he least expected. "Sue?"

"Oh, I thought you forgot about me," Sue says with a teasing smile.

How could he? Sue was his first love, the one who gave him his first heartbreak. She’s older and taller than him, just like before, but Chan sees her differently now—not as the boy who once idolized her, but as a man. Yet, the admiration still lingers.

Sue chuckles and gives him a quick hug. "Of all places, we meet here?"

"I know, right?" Chan shakes his head, still bewildered. "My friend is the brother of the bride."

"And I’m one of the groom's family," Sue says, showing off the dress. "What a small world!"

They share the bottle of champagne in the garden, sitting by the pool as they catch up. The evening air is warm, and the conversation flows easily.

"Is it alright that you're here with me?" Chan asks, glancing around as though expecting someone to pop up and claim her.

"Why wouldn’t it be?" Sue replies.

"I don’t know. I figured your boyfriend would be looking for you soon," Chan jokes, though there’s a part of him that’s curious.

"I don’t have a boyfriend," Sue says casually, taking a sip from the bottle.

Chan arches an eyebrow. "That's a lie!"

Sue playfully elbows him. "Oh, I know you’re happy to know I’m single," she teases.

"You can’t be single," Chan insists.

"But I am," she assures him, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"No way," Chan shakes his head, unable to believe it. "I mean, you’re taller and more beautiful than the last time we met. You can’t be single."

Sue leans in, her tone shifting ever so slightly. "And maybe that's why we met again tonight."

The suggestion in her voice throws him off balance, and before he can say anything, they bump into a group of people running around in their underwear, dripping wet and giggling as they pass by. Some guests have clearly taken the after-party to the hot tub.

Sue looks at the now-empty, steaming hot tub and asks, "What do you think?"

"You... you want to get in the hot tub?" Chan asks, incredulous.

"You and me, together," Sue says with a mischievous grin, her fingers already reaching for the zipper of her dress.

Chan's eyes widen as she strips down to her undergarments, standing confidently in front of him.

Before he can protest, she grabs his hand and pulls him toward the tub. "Come on! It’s getting cold!"

Seeing no harm in it—and after all, it’s been a lovely night—Chan relents. He strips down to his boxers and slowly lowers himself into the steaming water. The heat engulfs him, relaxing his muscles.

Sue leans back in the tub, her fingers playfully skimming the surface of the water. "Chris, you’ve really grown since the last time I saw you."

"Nah, I’m still the same," Chan says, feeling oddly shy. Despite the years that have passed, Sue still has a way of making him feel like a nervous kid.

"You're... hot. Like, really hot," Sue says with a giggle, her eyes sweeping over him.

Chan shakes his head, his ears turning red. "Nah, nah."

Sue moves closer, her voice dropping. "I’ll admit, I regretted rejecting you back then."

"You’re only saying that to make me feel better," Chan says, trying to deflect, but there’s a seriousness in her eyes that throws him off.

"Let's hope that's the case," Sue replies, and for a moment, their gazes lock, the tension thickening between them.

The heat of the water and the intensity of her gaze make Chan’s heart race, and he’s not sure if it’s just the temperature that’s making him feel this way. "It’s getting late," he finally says, breaking the moment.

"Yeah, you’re right," Sue agrees, being the first to climb out of the tub. She picks up her dress from the sun chair—and grabs Chan’s clothes as well.

"Hey, Chris," she says, a devilish grin spreading across her face as he’s about to step out of the water. "I have your clothes."

Before he can react, Sue takes off running, leaving Chan standing there, drenched and half-dressed.

"Sue!" Chan shouts, scrambling to get out of the tub. With no other option, he chases after her, his laughter echoing in the night.

As a family member of the wedded family, Sue has a room reserved at the resort, and she generously offers it to Chan so he can clean up after their impromptu dip in the hot tub. Chan stands in the bathroom, holding a hair dryer in one hand and his damp boxers in the other. He’s wrapped in a towel, waiting for his clothes to dry as he awkwardly shifts from one foot to the other.

"Chris, are you done?" Sue’s voice calls from outside the door.

"Almost done!" Chan shouts back, his voice strained. The air in the bathroom is warm and heavy, matching the tension he feels in his chest.

Before he can finish drying his boxers, Sue barges into the bathroom, still in her wet undergarments, her towel loosely wrapped around her. She doesn’t seem to care that he’s there.

"I can't wait any longer," she announces, her voice playful but firm as she strides confidently toward the shower stall, tossing her towel to the floor.

Chan swallows hard, eyes widening as she starts stripping out of her wet underwear. His gaze flickers to the mirror, catching glimpses of her body before he quickly tries to avert his eyes, heat rising to his face.

"I–I'm almost done..." Chan mumbles, his voice barely audible now as he turns the hair dryer off, but his words trail off because Sue isn’t listening. She’s busy shedding the last of her clothing, standing completely exposed now, her back to him.

His heart pounds, and though he desperately tries to look away, his eyes betray him, catching her figure in the reflection again. She moves toward the shower, but then she pauses, noticing his gaze through the mirror. A small smile curves her lips as she saunters back toward him, utterly confident.

"Chris," she says, her voice dropping to a low, sultry tone that sends a shiver down his spine. She steps closer, her bare body now in full view. "Want to shower together?"

Chan’s throat tightens, and he can’t seem to find the words. His mind is racing, caught between a surge of old feelings and the shocking reality of the moment. Sue stands there, teasingly exposed, as if waiting for him to make the next move.

Chan was a boy back then but now, he's just a man.

-

Is Chan still mad about Lee visiting you? Or did he go somewhere after the wedding and forget to tell you? Or... maybe he simply doesn't want to see you?

You’ve been turning these thoughts over in your mind ever since that night. You thought he’d come over after the wedding, share his usual stories about the day, about anything, really—like he always does. But the silence has been unsettling.

Coming home from work today, you half-expect to see him standing at his door, greeting you with that dimpled grin, his usual "Hi, neighbor." But all you see is his closed door.

You convince yourself that if Chan wants to see you, he’ll come around like usual, to poke fun at you or make you laugh. But it’s been too long now, and a knot of worry forms in your chest. What if he’s sick? What if something’s wrong?

After dropping off your bags and changing into comfortable clothes, you make up your mind and head over to his door. You knock, heart thudding with anticipation. A few moments later, you hear footsteps from inside.

When the door creaks open, there he is. He looks well—he looks good, as usual—but something feels off. There’s no dimpled grin, no sparkle in his eyes.

"Hey, can I come in?" you ask, hoping your voice doesn't betray the unease creeping in.

"Sure," he says, stepping aside to let you enter.

You walk in and sit on the sofa, waiting for him to join you. The silence feels heavier than usual, and he seems distant, avoiding your gaze.

"How are you?" you ask, breaking the quiet.

He lets out a long sigh before replying, "I’m good." He says but it doesn’t feel like the truth.

"That’s good to hear," you say, though you can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.

You reach out to press your hand gently against his forehead. "You’re not sick, are you?"

He lets you touch him, and you tease, "Ooh... you’re still the hottest tenant in this building."

You hope the joke might lighten the mood, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s faint, distant. You don’t want to push him too hard, but this isn’t Chan. Not the Chan you know.

"Are you trying a new persona?" you tease again, nudging him lightly. "Because this brooding emo guy thing doesn’t suit you."

This time, he chuckles, and the sound makes your heart lift a little. He finally looks at you, and his hand reaches for yours, fingers loosely intertwining with yours in the space between you on the sofa.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs, the apology catching you off guard.

"What for?" you ask, scooting closer to him, sensing that he’s carrying something heavy. You want to comfort him, whatever it is.

He leans back against the sofa, exhaling deeply. You wait, giving him the space to gather his thoughts.

"I met someone at the wedding," he begins, his voice careful.

A flicker of unease ripples through you, but you don’t say anything. You stay calm, letting him explain.

"Oh no, don't say you ran away with the bride," you joke, but it's more to ease the tension you feel building inside you.

Chan doesn’t react. He keeps looking straight ahead, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

"I met Sue," he starts, his voice struggling to push the words out. "She’s... someone I knew from the past."

You stay quiet, sensing that there’s more he needs to get out, but the pauses between his words are long and heavy.

"We met there, talked, had some drinks... and we ended up taking a quick dip in the hot tub."

"Sounds fun," you say, but your voice is flat, far from convincing.

He swallows hard, visibly uncomfortable. "We ended up in her hotel room... we were in the bathroom at the same time, and then... she asked if I wanted to shower with her."

Your heart sinks, but you brace yourself for whatever comes next. You stare down at your lap, your thoughts swirling, every unkind possibility flashing through your mind.

"I didn’t take her up on it," he quickly adds, "but... I hesitated. And in that moment, I realized I completely dismissed your feelings. I hate myself for it." His voice cracks with regret, and you can see the pain etched across his face.

"Maybe I haven’t changed at all," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "Maybe I’ll always be... this... ‘fuckboy Chris.’" He lets out a heavy sigh, tilting his head back as if trying to escape the weight of his own thoughts.

He turns to look at you, his eyes full of sadness. "Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m not ready for this." His voice is small now, hesitant. "And I’ll understand if you don’t want to continue."

It’s a lot to take in. The silence fills the room, and you let yourself feel everything. The disappointment, the hurt, the empathy. You need time, just a few moments, to let it all sink in.

When you finally lift your head, you give him a soft, bittersweet smile. "Thank you for being honest with me," you begin, your voice steady but quiet. "And I know it wasn’t easy to say... but I’d be lying if I said I’m not disappointed."

His expression is heartbreaking. "I’m really sorry," he whispers.

"But Chris..." You take his hand, resting it on your lap, your fingers curling around his. "The fact that you acknowledged what you did was wrong, and that you took responsibility for it, shows me you're on the right path."

His eyes shift, the glints of warmth starting to return. "Don’t ever say you can’t change. You’re changing... I can see it, believe me."

Chan lets out a breath, his relief palpable. He pulls you closer, pressing his forehead gently against yours. "Goodness, what did I do to deserve you?"

You chuckle softly, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. "You don’t have to be perfect for me, Chris. You just need to be good for yourself."

He buries his head into the curve of your neck, his arms tight around you, holding on as if to remind himself this isn’t the end. Not yet.

"But, you know..." you tease, your voice light. "You could always quit now."

"Never!" he exclaims, pulling you even tighter into his embrace.

The two of you sit there, holding onto each other, your flaws laid bare. The silence between you feels different now—it's full of understanding, and something deeper starting to grow.

Chan tenderly cups your jaw, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin, and his eyes soften as they lock with yours.

"Thank you for not giving up on me," he whispers, his voice full of quiet gratitude.

You meet his gaze, the same emotions swirling within you. "Thank you for not giving up on me," you echo, because this journey hasn't been easy for either of you.

The moment between you is tender, delicate, and charged with something deeper—something that goes beyond words. You can feel it in the air, and in the way he looks at you. It feels right, like it needs to be sealed with something more, something real.

Your hands gently cradle his face, and a soft smile tugs at your lips. You swipe your thumb across his mouth, your touch lingering as you think about how much you missed the feel of him, the taste of him. Slowly, you lean in, closing the space between you, and press your lips to his.

The kiss feels unlike any you've shared before. It's soft, deliberate, and filled with all the unsaid emotions between you. His lips move against yours with such tenderness, and in that moment, everything melts away—the hesitation, the doubts, the fear. This kiss marks the start of something new, something deeper.

Chan kisses you gently, and it makes your heart tremble in your chest. Every brush of his lips against yours speaks of the emotions he's been holding back, the sadness and the sweetness of what you’ve both been through. It’s bittersweet and lovely, all at once.

This kiss signifies that you’re ready—both of you are ready to take this leap, to explore this new depth together.

When the kiss breaks, Chan can’t help but smile, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and joy. He buries his head in your neck, inhaling your familiar scent that always calms him down. The feeling of your hand rubbing his back as you rest your head against him only solidifies how grateful he is that you're here, that he didn’t lose you.

He almost blew it, and yet here you are, forgiving him, giving him another chance. It's moments like this that make him certain—you’re the right person for him. Everything feels just... right.

You interrupt the peaceful silence with a playful tone, "It's your turn now."

"My turn for what?" Chan asks, momentarily confused as he lifts his head to look at you.

"Your turn to host the pajama party," you say, reminding him of the promise he’d made.

For a second, he’d forgotten all about that. "Huh?" he blurts out before realizing what you mean.

"I'll bring the snacks," you offer, and Chan nods, still smiling.

"Okay," he agrees without hesitation.

But you quickly add, "No weird movies, please?"

He can’t help himself from teasing you. "I know this French porn movie where the man—"

"Don’t make me cancel it," you cut him off, shooting him a stern look.

Chan laughs, "Okay, no French porn movies. Noted."

A mischievous idea crosses his mind as he playfully grins. "It's my party, though. I can do whatever I want, right?"

You raise an eyebrow at him, clearly seeing through his intentions, but to his surprise, you don’t outright protest. "Well... yes."

His grin widens as countless thoughts—most of them lewd and not remotely innocent—flood his mind. You’ve given him too much freedom now, and with that playful look in his eyes, Chan’s already thinking of ways to push your buttons.

-

The pajama party is officially on, and Chan has everything set to perfection. The bed faces the TV, freshly made with new sheets, and a scented candle flickers nearby, filling the room with a light, romantic scent. He carefully curated a movie list that’ll support the atmosphere he’s trying to create—a mix of feel-good films with enough romantic tension to get you in the mood.

As for himself, he keeps it simple yet calculated—gray sweatpants, worn low enough on his hips to give you a glimpse of his pelvic bones, knowing full well how much you like that.

He checks the room once more, muttering to himself, "What else? What else?"

After a while, he spots something."The lights!" he says, darting toward the switch.

Setting the lights to a soft, dim glow, it ensures the perfect balance—just enough to see but low enough to encourage a little closeness.

Just as everything’s ready, you arrive, right on time. He’s been buzzing with excitement, but he tamps it down, making sure to keep his face casual as he opens the door slowly.

"I'm on an all-protein diet, but I can't say no to this snack," he teases, his eyes shamelessly traveling down your body. There’s a flicker of disappointment when he sees you in an oversized sweater, hiding your figure.

You hand him the bag of snacks with a smirk, "I hope you like grapes!"

He places the bag on the table, watching as you stroll into the room, eyes observing the cozy setup he’s prepared.

"I see that you did a little renovation." You comment with eyes narrowed.

"And I see that you're not dressed according to the dress code," he quips, pointing at your large, cozy sweater with a mock frown.

"Is it necessary though?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, already anticipating his answer.

"Yes," he insists, determined.

You sigh in playful defeat, tugging at the hem of your sweater and lifting it over your head, revealing a short, black slip dress underneath. It's silky, tight, and leaves just enough to the imagination—but not too much.

As you bend slightly to place the sweater on the sofa, Chan catches a glimpse of the lacey black underwear peeking out beneath the dress. His eyes widen for a second, and his pulse quickens. Suddenly, he wonders if maybe insisting on the dress code was too good of an idea. That slip dress, especially with the way it clings to you, is dangerous.

Oh, this is going to be fun, he thinks, trying to steady his breathing as he watches you settle in, completely unaware of the effect you’re having on him.

"Do you want me to prepare the snack or something?" you ask, snapping Chan out of his daze. He’s been standing there for what feels like a full minute, just staring at you.

He quickly averts his gaze, trying to shake off the image of your nipples lightly pressing through the silky fabric of your slip dress. It's too much of a distraction. "No, I'll do it. You can just..."

"I'll just get comfortable," you say with a teasing smile, turning away and heading toward the bed. His eyes can’t help but follow the way the hem of your slip rides up with each step, revealing more of your thighs than he's ready to handle.

He manages to gather his thoughts long enough to prepare the snacks. When he returns with the tray, he finds you nestled in the bed, already looking far too comfortable. A pillow is propped behind your back, your legs casually stacked and splayed across the bed, and the hem of your slip dress rides dangerously high, showing off even more skin.

You crawl over to the side of the bed, the neckline of your dress dipping low and giving him an accidental peek at your soft, unrestrained curves. You help him place the snacks on the bed, and his mind keeps wandering as he tries not to lose focus.

"So, what are we watching tonight?" you ask, clearly unaware of the war going on inside his head.

"I don't know," Chan blurts out without thinking, his mind still stuck on how your body moves so effortlessly in that dress.

Your brow furrows, and you pout in response to his non-answer.

"I mean, I've chosen a few, but I’ll let you make the final decision," he says, completely surrendering control of the night, which had not been part of his plan.

He places the tray of snacks in the empty space on the bed, and you pick up a chip, popping it into your mouth with a playful grin. He takes a seat next to you, keeping a safe distance—for now.

"Okay, now I’m curious about your choice of movies," you say as you crawl over him to reach for the remote.

The scent of your skin, the warmth of your body so close, it’s all so utterly distracting. His breath catches as you move over him, the proximity stirring something deeper inside.

"No porn," you say with a laugh, scrolling through his movie selections. "That’s a good start."

Chan grins, but the effect you have on him is overwhelming. He needs to cool down fast before his mind strays too far. Thinking quickly, he suggests an action movie, something that could help him focus on anything other than you.

You agree without hesitation and settle back against the pillows as the movie starts, the room dimly lit, and the night now filled with a tension that neither of you can completely ignore.

"So, the father no longer lives with his daughter?" you ask, eyes glued to the screen while Chan’s attention remains fixed on your body.

"Uh-huh, yeah," he mumbles, clearly distracted.

"I don't like the stepfather," you comment about the movie, unaware of how little Chan is actually paying attention.

You turn your head to him, catching him in the act of staring. You pretend not to notice, reaching casually for a grape from the bowl he's holding. But as you bring it to your mouth, it slips from your fingers, rolling down Chan’s bare stomach and stopping right at the waistband of his sweatpants.

Without hesitation, you innocently reach for the grape, your hand brushing dangerously close to where he’s most sensitive. The moment is fleeting, but it lingers for Chan. He feels the heat rise in his chest as your fingers pull the grape free and pop it into your mouth as if nothing happened.

For a second, he’s frozen, his breath catching as the proximity of your touch leaves him wanting more. His carefully crafted plans for tonight? They seem to be backfiring, with you unintentionally driving him wild.

-

Chan may think all your actions were innocent accidents, but little does he know every move was calculated. You've been noticing his wandering gaze, the way he keeps getting distracted by you rather than the movie. His bare torso, though distracting, only adds fuel to your own plans.

When the first movie ends, you decide it’s time to build a little anticipation. You scoot to the edge of the bed, casually announcing, "Bathroom break."

You linger in the bathroom longer than necessary, letting the tension grow. When you return, Chan has cleared the tray and is fluffing your pillow—a sight that makes you grin inwardly. He’s already under your control.

"Can we watch a romcom next?" you ask as you climb back onto the bed, this time settling even closer to him.

"Sure," Chan agrees without hesitation, confirming that you've got him wrapped around your finger.

The second movie begins, and a few minutes in, you fake a yawn, casually resting your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t move at first, but eventually, his arm slips around you, his hand gently rubbing your arm. You smile softly, knowing you’ve set the perfect stage.

You lower your voice and whisper, "She’s beautiful, don’t you think?" referring to the actress on screen.

"Yes, she is," Chan replies quickly, too quickly.

You chuckle, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "I thought you'd say something like, 'but you're more beautiful,'" you tease.

That comment finally breaks his concentration on the movie. He looks at you, eyes locking with yours. The tension between you simmers, everything falling into place.

"You are more beautiful," he says, catching you off guard with how sincere he sounds.

You gently hold his chin, making sure his gaze stays on you. "Yeah?"

"Yes," his voice is low, thick with desire.

"Thank you," you sweetly murmur, leaning in to plant a soft, lingering kiss at the corner of his mouth. It's a tease, just enough to leave him wanting more.

Chan is clearly struggling to hold on, but you're determined to push him further. You move swiftly, pulling one of his legs aside and slipping between them to sit.

The sheer panic in his voice when he asks, "What are you doing?" is impossible to miss.

“I want to sit here so we can cuddle,” you reply, playing the innocent card. You settle yourself against his chest, making sure to let out a low, sultry hum as you lean back into him.

He remains tense for a moment, but you feel him give in, his hands slowly trailing down your sides. His fingers gently squeeze your waist, and then his arm wraps around you, pulling you in close. His lips find your skin, starting with soft kisses on the top of your head, then trailing down the side of your face and to your bare shoulder. Each kiss becomes more ragged, more desperate, and you can feel the weight of his breath against your skin.

Finally, he turns your head, and the intensity in his eyes says it all—he’s done resisting. His lips crash into yours, the kiss raw, hungry, filled with more than just lust. It’s deep, hard, and leaves you breathless. You're barely keeping up as he kisses you with an urgency that feels like he’s been waiting for this forever.

“How can I walk away from this?” he asks, his voice heavy with emotion, his forehead resting against yours.

You smile, your lips barely grazing his as you reply, "You don’t, because it's your party, and you can do what you want."

That’s all it takes. Something inside him snaps. Chan gives in entirely, kissing you more feverishly, his hands roaming your body, touching you everywhere at once. You feel his fingers tug at the hem of your slip dress, and you lift your body slightly, allowing him to pull it off. The fabric falls away, leaving nothing between his hands and your skin.

“You’re so soft it's ridiculous,” he murmurs in awe, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You watch as his hands trail down your arms, over your shoulders, down your sides, claiming every inch of you. He traces the lines of your body like he’s memorizing them, his breath hot against your neck as he leaves searing kisses along the way.

“Everywhere my hand slides, you fit me,” he whispers, showing you just how well with every touch—from your throat to your breasts, your hips, and down. His mouth follows his hands, kissing, tasting, marking you.

You let out a quiet whimper, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. “Please let me touch you too,” you manage to whisper.

Chan doesn’t hesitate. He flips you over so that you’re straddling him, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your every move. You waste no time, leaning in to kiss his neck, trailing your hands down his broad shoulders. Your fingers explore the firm muscles of his chest, and your lips follow, savoring the feel of his skin against yours.

You pause, admiring his sculpted abs, running your hands over them. "How do you even look like this?" you ask, awestruck.

Chan grins shyly, clearly not used to the compliments. “I don’t have anything better to do than go to the gym.”

“You do now,” you tease, tugging at him playfully.

Before he can react, you pull him down with you, both of you collapsing onto the bed together, laughing as the tension between you grows thicker.

In the dim light of the TV, Chan’s body hovers over yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he props himself on one elbow. You can feel the tension in the air, the weight of everything unsaid building between you. His eyes are locked onto yours, and you respond by slipping your hand down into his sweatpants, wrapping your fingers around him.

The way he groans, half-broken, sends a shiver down your spine. His hardness pulses under your touch, and each breath he takes sounds more ragged than the last. It’s intoxicating, knowing how undone he is because of you. Every stroke of your hand, every gentle squeeze makes him unravel a little more, and for a fleeting moment, you realize just how much power you have over him.

But before you can dwell on it, you feel his mouth. It takes you a second to pinpoint where, but then you feel it—hot and hungry, kissing your abdomen. His lips trail down, kissing along the curve of your stomach, his breath hot against your skin. The tension coils tighter inside you with each kiss.

With a playful grin, Chan grips the elastic band of your underwear between his teeth. The memory of last time flashes in your mind, and you can’t help but laugh at the familiar sight.

"Someone better not interrupt me again," he mutters between clenched teeth, determination and amusement laced in his voice as he tugs at the fabric.

The laughter bubbles out of you, half from the tickling sensation of his chin grazing your skin, half from the irony. But soon enough, the underwear slips away, and your laughter turns into a breathy sigh.

Chan wastes no time, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs. You can barely catch the words he murmurs between kisses, your focus completely stolen by the feel of his lips and tongue, his warm breath ghosting over your skin.

It’s too much, and not enough all at once.

Your legs part instinctively, and you know exactly what’s coming next. Anticipation swirls inside you, tightening in your core as Chan’s mouth ventures dangerously close to where you need him most.

The first contact of Chan’s mouth on your wetness is deliberate—a slow, teasing swirl that feels like the soft lick you’d give to the top of a melting ice cream cone. The sudden sensation draws a sharp gasp from your lips, and you almost snort from the intensity of it. He rewards you with a soft kiss on your inner thigh, as if pleased with himself.

The second contact is a gentle kiss, a reminder of the first kiss you shared. It’s pure, almost chaste, without any tongue, yet it holds a promise of what’s to come. As you stare up at the dark ceiling, a single thought pulses through your mind—you deeply wish that his kisses were meant for no one else but you.

Then comes the third, another kiss that slowly progressing from pure and innocent to something much dirtier. His lips linger and press deeper, his tongue tracing lines that send electric shocks through your entire body.

Chan takes his time, savoring every second, and with each passing minute, your body alternates between moments of tension and relaxation, yielding completely to him.

All of a sudden, he lifts his head, groaning in frustration. "I can’t handle it..." His voice is rough, desperate. He rests the side of his head on your thigh, his fingers lightly circling your clit as he breathes out, "I need more. Please."

His words are strained, raw with need. He’s hanging on by a thread, teetering on the edge, and you know that if you don’t give him what he wants soon, he might just break. You slide your hand through his curls, tugging lightly to bring his gaze back to yours.

“More?” you ask, voice low, teasing, though his desperation makes your heart race.

"Way, way more," he whispers, the hunger in his voice unmistakable.

You smile softly, the pet name slipping out so naturally it surprises you. "Okay, baby."

At that, Chan hurriedly kneels, shedding his sweatpants in a rush, and when his erection springs free, it’s impossible not to stare. The sheer size of him, the desire etched across his face, it’s all aimed at you, and the heat between you intensifies.

He positions himself above you, taking your hands and tangling them with his own, pinning them above your head. "Finally..." he breathes, his voice thick with excitement and relief, almost bordering on ecstasy.

Despite the waiting, the teasing, you realize you were just as desperate as he was for this moment, "Finally..." you repeat.

As he pushes his hard length into you, he does it slowly, savoring every inch as your body adjusts to him. He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can hear every sound that escapes his lips—soft gasps, sighs of pleasure, as if he’s trying to survive this moment and let it consume him all at once.

Fully sheathed inside you, he flexes his hips, and your eyes flutter shut. The sensation of him filling you, hot and hard, is overwhelming. It’s perfect.

"God, I was so right," he groans, his voice filled with awe. "You fit me perfectly"

Chan kneels again, his muscles contracting, his skin flushed red from the intensity. The view of him above you—his sculpted chest and arms—is breathtaking. He starts moving, each thrust measured, controlled. You can feel the pressure building inside you, and something similar to panic grips your chest, a raw intensity that threatens to overwhelm you.

“Talk to me,” Chan murmurs, leaning down to place a quick kiss on your lips.

You smile weakly, your eyes half-closed as you try to keep yourself together. "This is... this is nice," you mumble, barely coherent as your mind reels from the pleasure.

He looks almost offended, his brow furrowing as if the word "nice" is beneath him. "Nice, huh?" he repeats, voice low and teasing.

Before you can respond, his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you just enough to create a new angle. The depth he reaches now makes your breath hitch, and any attempt at keeping a coherent thought vanishes as he thrusts harder.

"Nice is good..." you start to say, but the words are swallowed by a moan as his pace increases, hitting just the right spot with every thrust. Your eyes roll back, and he grins at the reaction he pulls from you.

“I don’t do... nice,” Chan says with a smirk, leaning down as his movements grow faster, deeper, shaking the bed with every thrust.

You let out a sob, the sensation too much, and your body tightens around him, trembling as the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter. It’s a battle to hold on, but there’s no escaping what’s coming.

Chan hovers lower, his face close to yours as he studies every expression, his hips moving with precision. "Is it still nice?" he growls, his voice hoarse.

You can’t answer, not with the way he’s pushing you right to the edge. Your breath hitches, and just as you open your mouth to say something, a desperate cry escapes as your body finally gives in, releasing all the tension in a wave of pure ecstasy. You cling to the sheets, legs shaking, your voice echoing in the room as Chan continues to drive into you.

Moments later, you feel Chan reach his own peak, his body shuddering against yours as he releases with a deep, guttural groan, collapsing onto you, exhausted and trembling from the intensity of it all.

Once he's come to his senses, he lets out a shy laugh, his cheeks flushed. He’s so different from the brash, confident man you expected him to be—soft and vulnerable in ways you didn’t anticipate. You gently stroke his cheek, feeling a surge of affection for this man you’re getting to know in a completely new way.

"We’re going to miss the end of the movie," you tease, glancing at the TV still flickering in the background.

Chan laughs, his voice rich and warm. "I think we finished just in time."

-

Every time Chan wakes up in the morning, he no longer wonders where he is. He’s right where he belongs, lying next to you.

On weekdays, you live your separate lives, each sleeping in your own beds. But on weekends, you’re his, and he makes the most of it. It’s not just about sex—though there’s plenty of that. Your nights are filled with movies, video games, long dinners, and endless cuddling that eventually leads to even more sex.

Once, he warned you that it would take him days, weeks, maybe even years to get enough of you.

As expected, your alarm rings just as Chan is about to pull you closer, his arms instinctively reaching for you. With a quick motion, he grabs your phone, turns off the alarm, and shoves it under his pillow, refusing to let you go.

“Work,” you murmur, still half-asleep, rubbing your eyes as you reach for your phone.

“You know what time it is,” he teases, pulling you on top of him with ease.

Chan brushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears so he can plant soft kisses all over your face. When his lips finally reach yours, his hand glides down your spine, resting on your rear before slipping his fingers under your underwear, teasing you through the fabric.

"Chris..." you mewl, your voice a mix of protest and desire.

“It’s either we do it here or in the shower,” he says, voice thick with need. He doesn’t care about the setting—he just knows he needs you to start his day right.

“As long as you’re doing all the work,” you reply, half teasing, half serious.

His eyes widen in disbelief. "Since when do you ever—"

You cut him off with a kiss, your lips pressing firmly against his. "Are we doing this or not?"

No matter how much you protest, Chan always gets what he wants. And he knows you secretly love catering to his desires, just as much as he loves pleasing you.

Your lips move together again as he pulls his cock out of his boxers, positioning himself. You lean forward, lowering yourself onto him slowly, feeling him fill you inch by inch. His hands rest on your hips as you stay on all fours, your back arching beautifully while he thrusts into you from below.

You glance down, watching his cock move in and out of you, and let out a playful giggle. “How do you have so much energy in the morning?” you ask, a little amazed.

He grins up at you, his hips never stopping their rhythm. Honestly, just looking at you is all he needs to feel alive in the morning. Your moans, your smile, the way you move—it all drives him wild.

“That feels so good, baby,” you purr, leaning down to kiss him deeply.

Chan’s mind wanders for a brief second, wondering how he got so lucky. There was a time when he feared you might think this was only physical, that he mistook lust for something deeper. But now, he knows it’s not just his body that craves you—his heart does too.

“What are you thinking, mmh?” you ask, your nose brushing against his.

"Nothing," he murmurs, looking at you with the softest expression. "I’m just so happy."

You smile at him, pressing another kiss to his lips, and he holds you close, your bodies fitting perfectly together as he continues to move, his hips rocking into yours until both of you are lost in the sensation.

When you finally reach your peak, he follows, planting his seed deep inside you to complete what’s now become his favorite morning ritual.

As you get dressed, Chan stays in bed, a satisfied grin plastered across his face. He watches you with lazy, contented eyes, still basking in the afterglow.

"I’ll cook dinner tonight," he says, hands propped behind his head, already thinking of the next time he’ll see you.

"Okay," you reply casually, slipping your sweater over your head.

"It would be easier if you gave me your spare keys," he says, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the underlying hope in his voice. "So I can cook at your place."

You pause for a moment, a coy smile creeping across your face. "You want the spare keys to my place?"

"Yes," he replies eagerly, sitting up a little straighter, hope flaring in his chest.

"Well..." You walk toward the door, glancing back at him over your shoulder. "You’ll have to earn it first."

As you leave his apartment and head across the hallway to your own, Chan lies back on the bed, his grin widening. It seems he has a new quest: earning the spare keys to your place.

And knowing Chan, he’ll do whatever it takes to get them.

-

Chan knows your morning routine by heart. He lingers in bed for a moment after you leave, his mind wandering back to the last time you were together. Whether it was this morning or the night before, the memories of your body against his make him smile lazily.

Eventually, he gets up, washes up, and grabs a quick breakfast before heading out of the apartment to send you off to work.

As he steps out of his door, he sees a sight that surprises him: you're helping someone unload boxes from the elevator. Without thinking, he rushes over to help, noticing that there are still several boxes left inside.

“You should be on your way to work,” Chan says, more concerned about your punctuality than anything else.

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t get into the stuffed elevator,” you reply with a shrug, clearly unbothered by the time.

Just then, someone else steps out of the elevator, carrying the last box. “You can use it now,” he says, smiling.

You turn to Chan and introduce him, “This is Minho. He’s our new neighbor.”

Then you turn to Minho and gesture to Chan, “And this is Chris, the other neighbor.”

Chan feels a pang of disappointment. Just the "other neighbor"? He swallows it down, deciding to let it go for now.

Minho puts the box down and extends his hand to Chan. “Minho,” he says with a friendly grin.

“Chris,” Chan replies, shaking his hand. As their hands clasp, Chan gets a quick read on him. He knows the type—game recognizes game—but for now, he decides to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I’d better get going,” you say as Minho holds the elevator door open for you.

“Yes, please, I’d be devastated if you were late to work,” Minho says with a smile that seems just a little too smooth.

You laugh softly, waving it off. “It’s fine. No worries.”

That laugh—the ease of your interaction—it’s all too friendly for someone you’ve just met. It takes Chan back a little, knowing how long it took for you to warm up to him. Still, he lets it slide again.

As you move to leave, Chan pulls you close, intending to kiss you goodbye, but at the last second, you turn your head, and the kiss lands awkwardly on your jaw.

“Bye,” you say softly before stepping into the elevator.

“Have a great day at work, neighbor!” Chan calls after you, trying to play it off with a wave as the doors close.

Left standing in the hallway with Minho, Chan notices the pile of boxes still waiting to be moved into the new neighbor’s apartment. He offers to help, not feeling right about leaving the guy to handle it all alone.

After placing the last box inside, Minho hands Chan a can of soda as thanks. They sit for a moment, taking a breather from the unexpected workout.

“I must say,” Minho says suddenly, cracking open his can, “that was hard to watch.”

Chan’s brows knit together in confusion. “Sorry?”

“You and that pretty neighbor of yours,” Minho continues, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

Chan straightens up, his grip tightening on the can. “What are you trying to say?”

Minho lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I can see you like her, but her… I don’t think she likes you back.”

Chan feels the jab, but he doesn’t let it show. He knew there was something off about Minho from the start.

“She introduced you as her mere neighbor,” Minho adds, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “And that kiss dodge? Ouch.”

Chan tries not to take the bait, but it’s impossible not to feel a little stung by the comment. Pissed, actually.

“How long have you been chasing after that cute neighbor?” Minho presses, his chuckle laced with condescension. He doesn’t even give Chan a chance to defend himself.

“Hey, you can mess with me all you want, but not with her,” Chan warns, his voice low, a dark edge creeping in.

Minho only snorts, crushing the empty soda can in his hand before tossing it casually into the trash. “And here I thought you were just like me.”

Chan tenses as Minho steps closer, eyes narrowing with a fierce smile. “I could have that girl in a week,” he declares boldly.

Chan’s jaw clenches. “I told you not to mess with her.”

Minho shrugs, completely unfazed. “Just watch me.”

And with that, it’s clear: there’s a new fuckboy in the area, and Chan’s got more than a little competition.

-

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[donatellawritings]

୨୧ how sugardaddy!rafe found his favorite little muñeca

rafe wasn’t entirely sure as to what it was that piqued his father’s need to go on vacation every few months out of the year, but he wasn’t against it. since returning back to tannyhill, following his brief collegiate stint, rafe needed an outlet — a place where he could go and blow a few tens of thousands of dollars and not be reprimanded, a place where he could lose himself in copious amounts of coke without judgement, a place where he could be the man — the one who was needed, the one who had all the answers.

so, when ward came up with the brilliant idea to send his eldest of kin to the island of culebra, puerto rico — just to keep his volatile son out of trouble … rafe was quick and eager to oblige.

the villa was immaculate, completely renovated from the ground up, with the pristine view of the clear turquoise waters that crashed against the powder white sand. but what caught rafe’s bright baby blues was the little puerto rican girl who stood bent over, tiny white shorts sucked in the soft fat of your plush ass as you carefully picked at the bright fuschia hibiscus flower that grew alone in the patch of crisp green grass. shiny blown out hair cascaded down the small of your back as rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, watching closely as you straightened your posture, the shorts now almost entirely swallowed by your plump ass.

rafe couldn’t help himself, but continue to ogle at you, his bloodshot eyes carelessly drinking in the way your bronze skin shimmered under the sun, as well as the cute hot pink heart-shaped glitter tattoo that sparkled on your lower back. and fuck, it took everything in him to not shove his hand down his pants with the way the fat of your ass sat all heavy and perfectly curved against the flimsy fabric of your shorts.

smiling to himself, rafe obnoxiously clears his throat, causing you to flinch and whip your pretty little head at him, all wide eyed and open-mouthed, “uh, don’t think y’should be pickin’ at other people’s flowers, huh?” he questions, his voice dripping in a condescending cadence as you immediately drop the pretty flower from your small fist, allowing it to fall at your sparkly pink toes.

remaining silent, you awkwardly shift on your feet, blinking your wispy lashes together as you close your mouth, “i’m sorry, i just — hmph,” you sigh, your nose scrunched in frustration as you struggled to find the right words … in english, at least.

cocking his head to the side, rafe chuckles at your fussy state, his stringy bangs masking the way he incessantly stared at the way the swells of your breasts bounced against your one size too small lily pink triangle bikini top. judging by your thick accent, rafe could tell that communicating with you would be a bit of a struggle — lucky for you, he considered himself to be a proactive man of sorts.

taking a step closer to you, rafe feigns a sigh of disappointment, even going so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose “i don’t know, i may just have to tell someone that y’just comin’ here and makin’ a mess of things — i can’t have that, sweetheart,” he shrugs.

your little heart thumped rapidly against your chest as you bit down into your pouty bottom lip, swallowing thickly as you brought your terrified gaze to the ground.

deciding to twist the knife, rafe nudged the point of your chin with the side of his signet-tinged index finger with squinted eyes, “y’parents never taught y’how to talk to people, huh?” he questions, his pupil-blown eyes searching yours as you parted your swollen lips.

furiously shaking your head, you take a short breath, “i-i dunno how — the words are h-hard,” you speak, your voice small and mousey as your eyes meet rafe’s intimidatingly blue ones.

“well, y’gotta learn, yeah?” rafe shrugs.

with bright and naive eyes, you let out an excited gasp, “you can teach me?” you question, swollen lips pursed together as rafe licks over his pink chapped lips, taking another step closer to you as his rough hand grasps the side of your face.

you were a naive little one, a bit too welcoming … but he could fix teach you.

bringing his thumb to curve around your jaw, rafe shushes you, “y’shouldn’t be walkin’ around stranger’s houses dressed like that — your daddy ever teach you that?” rafe lightly pushes your head back, a shit-eating grin now playing on his handsome face as you obediently answer him with a forceful shake of your head.

your bambi eyes now welled with embarrassed tears, you gently attempted to pull your face from the young man’s tight hold, “yo no tengo …” you whimper softly.

shifting your face, rafe raises a corrective brow at you, “english, kid,” he scolds.

poking out your fat bottom lip in a wobbly pout, you lightly stomp your foot in frustration, “i don’t have a daddy,” you whine, a warm teardrop rolling down the apple of your cheek as rafe tutted at you with a knowing nod to himself.

“that’s the problem, huh? y’don’t have a daddy to keep y’little ass in line,” rafe mumbles, bringing his thumb to mush against your swollen and somewhat sticky lips as you stare at him with confused, yet needy little eyes.

letting go of your jaw, rafe runs a hand through his greasy hair, before swiping at the corner of his mouth with his finger, “listen kid, m’gonna take care of you, yeah? buy you whatever girly shit y’like — maybe even take y’home with me one of these days —”

“like a daddy?”

letting out a huff, rafe takes in the way you reach down to grab ahold of the wilted flower, boobs nearly spilling out of your bikini tops as you fist it tightly in your grip, “yes, but i’ll be your daddy —”

“papi!” you beam, a wide smile stretching your swollen lips as you bat your cutesy stacked lashes together, “that’s your name?” you ask politely, reaching your small hands to tug on the waistband of your shorts, unknowingly pulling them further up your ass.

“rafe is my name, pretty girl — but y’can call me papi, okay?” he coos, swiftly snagging the flimsy flower from your hand, causing you to pout as you roll your eyes, leaving rafe to snap his fingers at you, “hey — don’t start that shit, now come here and let me fix y’up,” he commands, internally satisfied with the way you quickly removed the frown from your face and walked over to him, the tips of your toes meeting the tips of his sandals.

curling a ginger underneath the waistband of your shorts, rafe softly pulls on the stretchy fabric, taking a mental note of the frilly thing you wore underneath. placing the flower in your shorts, rafe carefully secures the band of your shorts to hold the flower upright, you dainty belly button ring also catching his watchful eyes.

craning your neck to get a look of your cute new accessory, you scoff with excitement, “aye, es muy bonita, papi!” you squeal, rushing to swing your arms around rafe’s tense and warm neck.

lightly patting the top of the curve of your asscheek, rafe gently pulls you away from him, “listen, kid — y’can’t just trust every person you meet, yeah? not everyone is going to be nice like your papi, hm?” he clasps his hands around your bare shoulders, biting back a smirk as you nod feverishly.

“tell me that you understand,” rafe pushes, silently encouraging you with a small squeeze of your shoulders.

“i und-understand,” you breathe out.

bringing a hand to barely pat your cheek, rafe reaches his free hand down to tug the hem of your shorts down to cover your ass, “good girl — now why don’t y’come with daddy and i’ll buy y’some pretty clothes,” rafe hums, massaging your cheek with his thumb.

[miaountainmama]

capable

characters: jing yuan, fembodied!reader contains: pwp, shameless smut, gentle sex, lots of praise. he calls you beloved and bends you over his desk and also eats you out. also he's larger than you because he's like 6'3" so sorry if you're somehow his size. minors dni or i'll eat your bones

wc: 3829

a/n: FIRST HSR POST WOOOOO boothill is my man but i wrote this for my bf. he then told me jing yuan is talking to reader like a horse. everyone stone him

“The Cloud Knights are already stretched thin as they are, so I don’t think it would be wise to dispatch them for this.”

You stare unseeing at Yanqing as he reports before the stairs in front of the desk in the Seat of Divine Foresight. On a normal day, you were a gold star employee, the perfect picture of Jing Yuan’s assistant: attentive, well-mannered, and adept at many things. However, it’s impossible to focus on Yanqing from where you stand by the railing— impossible to focus on anything but the feeling of the General’s golden eyes resting upon your form. You feel yourself being picked apart by his gaze, and though you attempt to maintain a cool facade, leaning against one of the posts of the railing, you can feel your collar getting a little hot under the unwavering attention. You can feel his eyes traveling, alternating between your face and the plush of your thighs being squeezed by your shorts. It’s an exposing feeling… not that you mind.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, seems to have no problem paying attention to two things at once. He leans forward against his desk, his honeyed stare finally moving off of your body and back to the poor boy just doing his job. You try your best not to think about the way his hands flexed around the wooden surface, try your best not to think about how they’d feel holding you down instead. Your mouth slowly twists into a sly smirk at the idea as he opens his mouth to speak.

“I see. I suppose I will take care of this matter personally, as it seems my assistant looks a little… preoccupied at the moment. I am more than capable.”

Your eyes snap to his, losing their unfocused haze, and they narrow, a little embarrassed but not entirely displeased at being caught thinking about him. He’s already looking at you again, eyes half-lidded and glinting with mirth and unspoken hunger, and you match his expression.

“Oh… more than capable? Are we underestimating me now, General? I don’t take kindly to that, you know. Perhaps I’ll need you to show me just how… capable you can be,” you purr, wrapping your fingers around the railing and tilting your head forward to look at him through your lashes. His eyebrows raise minutely before he lets out a low rumble of a laugh from deep in his chest, looking pleased at the way you responded. He shifts forward as well, lips curling upwards, and he looks about ready to tease you right back before a voice cuts through the tension.

“Of course the General is capable. He’s the General, are you crazy?” Both of you look at Yanqing, completely oblivious to the mood in the room, and you resist the urge to sigh (and/or strangle him). Still, you take the interruption in stride. You can’t fault him for being just a boy.

“Seeing is believing, and I’m sure there’s a lot the General hasn’t shown me,” you say, not missing a beat. Yanqing looks about ready to interject again, ready to defend the General’s honor, but before he can, you hear the smooth lilt of Jing Yuan’s voice interrupt.

“It seems I haven’t been entirely open with my assistant. Yanqing, you’re free to go. I’ll work out the finer details with them. We’ll take it from here.”

“Are you sure? You don’t need me here to-”

“Yes, Yanqing, I’m sure. You have the rest of the day to do as you wish. Please, leave us,” Jing Yuan says, eyes never leaving you, and Yanqing gives a short bow and a “yes, General” before following orders, softly shutting the door and leaving the two of you alone. The two of you don’t blink, staring into each other’s eyes as you hear his quick footsteps fading away.

The moment the echoes disappear, he’s on you.

He has one large hand on your thigh, the other pulling you close by the small of your back, and your eyes immediately flutter shut in triumph. Yes, this is what you’ve been thinking of, yearning for all day. Your hands are in his hair, tugging his face closer and capturing his lips in a heated kiss, thumb brushing against the mole on his cheekbone. He’s bent over, neck craning down to reach you, and he walks you back slowly to sit you on his desk. You barely notice the cool feeling of the wood against your thighs, too preoccupied with getting more, feeling more. You reach for one of the belts around his waist, wanting to waste no time, but are stopped by Jing Yuan grabbing your wrist.

“What’s the rush, beloved?” he asks in a low voice, the slightest hint of a laugh gracing his tone. He guides your hand back up to hold his face and hair again before tilting your chin up and to the side with a finger. 

Everything Jing Yuan does to you, he does slowly. Painfully slowly, at times. This was one of those times.

“General,” you whine as he goes for where your neck meets your jaw, pressing a long, lingering kiss there. Still, he remains unbothered, though he does lightly nip at the skin with his teeth.

“Jing Yuan. You know you can call me anything you like when we’re alone,” he corrects, soothing the new red mark with his tongue. Already, he’s leaving you breathless, and you nod, feeling the heat rushing through your body at the pleasurable sensation. It’s not enough, though, and you tell him as much, pulling him closer by the hips,

“Then, Jing Yuan,” you say. “Hurry up already.”

Another kiss to your neck, another gentle laugh. “I have a whole lifetime to do as I please with you. Besides, you haven't pleaded your case convincingly enough,” he says, though he does indulge you a little by unhooking the clasp around your collar. You whine again as he pushes the fabric to the side, now pressing his lips against the crook of your neck.

“Pleaded my case? What, do you want me to beg you?” you ask, hands threading through his long white hair and tugging lightly, and you feel his lips curl into a lazy grin at the thought.

“Now that doesn’t sound so bad,” he says, punctuating his words with a squeeze to your thigh. His other hand wanders, caressing the curve of your waist, sliding upwards until it reaches the cutout in your shirt above your breasts. He moves his face from your neck as he slips his hand under the fabric, returning to kiss your lips as he cups a breast and teases a nipple with a finger. Your entire body jolts forward at the touch, back arching, and you let out a small noise into Jing Yuan’s lips as he kisses you. Again, you can feel his mouth curve into a slight smile at the action.

You’re incredibly needy by this point, heart racing, and you swear you’re probably going to have a wet spot through your shorts if he keeps going at this rate. Your core is aching for sensation, for sweet release.

“Jing Yuan,” you pant, pulling away from his kiss slightly. His eyes flutter open, meeting your gaze with his own golden eyes before he closes them again and pulls you back in, seeming just as unhurried as ever. You pull back a second time, more insistently this time.

“Jing Yuan, please,” you say, and you see something flash in his expression as his eyes open to look at you again. He reaches up to touch your face, and you realize you’ve found a sensitive spot— and you’ll exploit it as much as possible.

“Please,” you repeat, lacing your voice with as much need as possible, making sure to look directly into his eyes. On the outer rim of your vision you can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows once, something sparking through his face a second time. Once you drop a hand down to trail along his chest, he’s done for.

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” he says, looking pleased, and he maneuvers you to stand with his hands. You follow his movements without complaint, though your face does burn as his fingers hook around the waistband of your shorts and pull down. He motions for you to sit back on the desk, so you step out of your shorts and do so, feeling the cool surface of the wood against your bare body. You swear you can feel your quickened pulse between your legs as he nudges them open and spreads them slightly, and you make a softly embarrassed noise as it displays how wet you are for him to see. However, his eyes sparkle with delight, and his right hand drops down to lightly touch you. When his finger pulls away from your core, it’s shiny from slick.

“Oh… now that’s a sight to see. Mind if I take a closer look?” he murmurs lowly, and you nod, not sure what he means but willing to let him do anything to you at this point. You blink in surprise as he drops to his knees in front of you, kneeling in between your legs, and you resist the urge to close them around his head in embarrassment as he comes face to face with your heat. He reaches out to touch again, gently spreading you open with his thumb, and your breath catches at the feeling. You say nothing, opting to let him do as he pleases, and he switches to tracing the lines of your folds with his middle finger. He’s slow, careful with it, and you feel incredibly lewd as his finger gets coated with your wetness. He traces his finger down again, and with one motion sends you reeling as he sticks it inside you to the knuckle.

He looks up at you from below, taking in your face as you watch him, your breath coming out in heavy pants as you feel your walls clenching and unclenching around his finger to adjust to the feeling. He gives you a moment of brief reprieve before he’s gently pumping it in and out, finding your clit with a thumb then leaning in to latch his lips around it. You let out a strangled moan at the feeling as he sucks on it, languidly stroking his tongue across the bud, your hands flying to his hair to steady yourself as he eats you out. It feels humiliatingly good, every slow drag of his tongue around your clit and every measured thrust of his finger sending you further into ecstasy. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand to muffle your sounds, but the moment you do so, Jing Yuan ceases in his actions, slowing to a stop and pulling away to look at you. 

“I don’t intend to hold anything back, so you shouldn’t either,” he says, coaxing you to lower your hand, and he hums in approval as you return it back to his hair. “Very good. Always so good for me.” 

He dives back in, sucking and swirling his tongue around, pumping his finger, and this time, you let your shaky moan of pleasure free. His hand tightens around your thigh when he hears it, going at you a little harder, and you respond in kind, tugging at the strands of his silky white hair. You’re so worked up that he’s getting you there embarrassingly fast— your walls begin to clench around his finger, and it doesn’t help when he slides a second one in, curled just right and hitting just the right places. His unhurried pace continues even as you suddenly jerk forward, a groan of his name leaving your lips as you release all over his fingers. Your head tilts back, mouth gasping and whimpering and making all sorts of wanton noises as your body twitches from the relentless stimulation. It’s not until your moans subdue somewhat that he pulls back, resting a cheek against your thigh and looking up at you with adoring eyes. You’re breathing heavily, eyes unfocused, though they twitch a bit when he removes his fingers from inside you. He wipes them on his pants, lightly caressing your inner thigh with the other hand. He presses a kiss to the skin there as you recover at least a little bit, though he doesn’t let you waste all the time he spent preparing you. After a few more seconds he’s smoothly climbing to his feet to tower over you again.

Jing Yuan grabs you by the hips, gently pulling you off the table. His grip is firm, and despite the slight weakness in your knees, he doesn’t let you fall.

“Careful, beloved. We can’t have you hurting yourself, now,” he says, still wearing that smug, lazy smile. You hum in acknowledgement, grabbing onto him to steady yourself, and he leans down to kiss you softly before turning you around so your back is to him. He pushes at the small of your back, carefully coaxing you to bend over at the waist over his desk and tracing down your spine as you fold over. You can feel his hands massage your hips for a brief moment before they’re gone, leaving you cold and wanting for his touch. You try your best to keep your eyes straight forward, though, looking out the window behind his desk as you hear the clink of his metal belt buckles. The belts are quickly tossed beside you on the desk, followed by the sound of fabric rustling, and your heart is pounding from anticipation as you hear him take a controlled, slow breath from behind. 

A warm hand returns to your hip, and you unconsciously lean into the touch.. “Are you ready, my love?” he asks, stepping closer, and you can feel the heat radiating from him— it makes you nearly salivate, imagining just what he’s going to do to you in a moment.

“Yeah. Please,” you reply, urging him on, and he chuckles lowly before you feel him slide his cockhead along the wetness between your legs. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head at the contact you’ve been waiting for for hours, hips bucking backwards.

“Easy, now,” he says, light laughter in his voice, though it sounds a little strained. Perhaps the need is getting to him too— it’s certainly getting to you, evident by the shallow, rushed breaths you’re taking. You don’t complain though as he coats himself in your slick, knowing it’ll help it feel better in the long run and knowing he’ll take his time no matter what you do. After he deems himself sufficiently lubricated, he holds himself steady, not quite inside you yet but prodding at your entrance. He holds still, just taking in the sight, the view of you at his complete mercy, and just when you’re about to turn around and tell him to hurry up he pushes forward, slowly, not wanting to hurt you. He’s always been large, but considering how much smaller you were than him, he feels he has to be extra careful.

Your breath hitches as he splits you open inch by inch, eyes fluttering half shut as you feel the stretch. A shaky moan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, his hands going to stroke your hips to soothe you.

“There we are. You’re doing well, beloved,” he says, voice smooth and soft, and you swear that him speaking just makes you feel that much better. He pulls back, leaving just the tip in, before lazily thrusting in again— it rips a heavy moan from deep in his chest, and, true to his word from earlier, he doesn’t hold anything back. As he sets a steady, slow pace, he’s not loud by any means, but he certainly doesn’t care to muffle his noises. His occasional groans and frequent words of praise make you clench around him, which just makes him groan even more. The room is filled with your noises, his noises, and the sound of slick skin against skin— and you get even louder when he reaches around you, swiping a finger against your wetness before beginning to gently rub at your clit. Your back arches further, head tilting back, as you let out the most debauched moan you ever have in your life. Jing Yuan chuckles from behind you.

“Does it feel good?” he teases, and your head lolls forward, a desperate whimper leaving your mouth from the feeling of him both inside and outside of you. 

“Yeah,” you whine. “So good.”

He hums in satisfaction, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder blade and upping his pace just a little bit. He’s certainly not going fast— it’s always been his style to carefully work you towards your climax, to enjoy the buildup rather than get you there immediately. Still, it sets pleasurable fire running through your veins, and your hands clench from where they’re holding onto the desk. Every drag of his cock inside you sends you closer to the edge, your body beginning to shake slightly. Your eyes are unseeing, too caught up in the feeling of in and out, in and out, circling around, rubbing, in and out. A warm feeling is beginning to stir in your gut, a tightness forming in your core, and you nearly salivate as you want more, need more. 

“Jing Yuan,” you whimper, wanting to convey as such but not having the capability to utter more than a few words at a time. “Jing Yuan,” you try again, and you hear the smile in his voice as he gently shushes you, thumb caressing your hip.

“It’s all right, my love, I understand. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, and he begins to snap his hips deeper, still gentle but deeper. It rips a strangled moan from your throat, your eyelids fluttering, and that pleasured feeling grows tenfold. Your moans grow more frequent, more desperate, and you clench around him, trying your best to hold yourself back from cumming too fast. You’re breathing heavily, trying to control yourself, but then you feel him lean in over you again, murmuring close into your ear.

“You don’t have to hold back, beloved. Go ahead. I promise it’ll feel better,” he says, voice all warm and soft, and you take his words in stride— who are you to deny your General? A few more thrusts, a few more circles on your clit and you’re gone, neck snapping backwards as you let out a choked wail of pleasure, electricity flying through your entire body as your hands nearly leave imprints in the surface of the desk. Your vision blurs, likely due to the crystalline tears that have sprung to your eyes, and your back arches as your body seizes. Jing Yuan holds you steady, murmuring placating praises as your hips buck. He doesn’t stop his motions, fucking you through your high, and you swear your knees almost give out on you as the heat just doesn’t stop. Even once the ecstasy dulls somewhat, your moans subsiding by just a hair, pleasure remains, and you want him to keep going, keep going until you’re spent, until he’s spent, until the both of you collapse. You yourself are probably near the point of collapse at this point, legs like jelly, and, sensing this from where he’s half holding you up, Jing Yuan nudges one of your legs up so you’re half perched on his desk now.

“Careful, my love,” he says, still thrusting lazily into you, and you just whine back, now resting all your weight on the wood surface. He readjusts the hand that circles your clit to the new position, and the type of friction changes— all your nerves feel like they fry in response. Behind you, Jing Yuan’s breathing has deepened, though it remains steady and controlled. Only you know that it means he’s close— he only sounds this disciplined, this restrained when he’s trying not to cum. Occasionally, deep “mmmhh”s and “ah”s leave his lips, though they’re quiet, and Aeons, the thought of him letting go is so hot it makes your walls flutter and pulse around him. 

“Oh, beloved,” he groans at the feeling, hands tightening around your hips, and his thrusts are starting to get a bit sloppy, a little less rhythmic. The heat rises between the two of you, the air growing more frantic, and both of you are close, so close— you whimper his name, and his movements are getting shallower, a little more rapid. He leans down, pressing more of his body against yours, as if he’s suddenly desperate to feel you against him. One of his hands leaves your hip to brace himself against the desk, holding himself above you, and you can feel the feverish temperature radiating off his skin. His head lolls, a needy, strangled groan escaping his mouth, and that’s all it takes for the feeling to become unbearable again.

You come for the third time, and this time it’s the strongest it’s been— your noises reflect that. For a second you worry it sounds like you’re getting killed, but it feels so good you can’t even care. The noises are guttural, from deep in your chest, and as your hands tense you can feel Jing Yuan’s hand tense on your hip as well. 

“Ah, beloved,” he moans shamelessly into your ear, and then he’s gone too, delivering a thrust deep into you as you feel him spurt thick ropes of cum inside you. He doesn’t stop moving, still lazily grinding into you, both of you moaning, you whimpering as the pleasure plateaus and you become sensitive. Your hips jerk backwards, and he lets out a breathy, pleasure-coated laugh, following you and not letting up.

“Jing Yuan, too much, sensitive,” you gasp, and at this he finally slows, eventually coming to a stop still buried inside you. You’re panting, shaking slightly, and he hums in appreciation, straightening up with a groan and reaching forward to run a hand along the back of your shoulder. You both just stand there for a minute, breathing hard, before he sighs slightly in satisfaction and slowly pulls out, taking all his warmth with him. You make a disgruntled noise at the loss, though you know you can’t stay like this forever, and he gently rights you as well, tucking himself back into his pants. You turn to face him, sitting back on the desk while you recover, and watch as he leaves you to walk across the room, rummaging around for a second before returning with a glass of water.

“So, my dear assistant. Have I shown you how capable I can be, then?” he asks, that gleam in his eye returning, and you laugh, taking the glass from him and taking a big sip.

“Yeah. I dare say you have.”

[fantasydreamland]

Betrothed

cragen stark x fem tully reader x aemond targaryen

Summary: You have been betrothed to Cragen Stark since you were children and grew up in the North preparing for the day you would become the lady of the Winterfell. Your entire world changes when your parents decide to wed you to the cold prince Aemond Targaryen instead. When the war begins everything changes once again and you eventually find your rightful place.

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smut, angst, fluff, p in v, loss of virginity, some spoilers

Word count: 5571

x thank you so much for this request x

Mini sequel - Mine

masterlist

You have been betrothed to Cragen Stark since you were children and grew up in the North preparing for the day you would become the lady of the Winterfell. Your parents visited often but remained occupied in the Riverlands.

Along the way, you and Cregan fell in love though neither of you would speak of it. Although you were to be wed, you were both shy about your feelings towards each other.

One day your mother and father return to Winterfell to visit and you greet them excitedly.

“There is a reason to our visit.” Your father says sternly as you hug your mother.

Your smile fades and they lead you to private room to speak. Your father explains that there was an offer from King Viserys to wed you to Prince Aemond Targaryen.

“What?!” You yell. “Absolutely not. Tell them no. I am to marry Cregan soon. That has always been the plan.”

“We have already agreed.” Your father states.

“You cannot marry me to that cold evil prince!” You raise your voice again in panic.

“Prince Aemond is an excellent match, my dear.” Your mother says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“But I am to be lady of Winterfell! That is what I have been preparing for my entire life!”

“Well, now you will be a princess of the realm.” Your mother says.

“I do not care to be a princess!” Tears begin to fill your eyes. ��What about Cregan? We have been betrothed our entire lives. He is the sweetest man I have ever known and now you are going to ship me away from him… away from you.”

“We would join you if we could, my dear.” Your mother says softly.

“But as you know we have a duty to the Riverlands. We cannot always choose our duties in life.”

“But father please-“

“There is no negotiating.” Your father speaks over you. “We have already promised the king. You should be grateful to earn such a title.”

“…When?” Was the only word you could choke out through your increasing tears.

“We will escort you there tomorrow.” Your father says.

“Tomorrow?!” You cry. “That is hardly any time at all!”

“Your mother and I need to return to Riverrun, we have no time to delay. I suggest you begin packing.” Without another word, your father storms out of the room.

“I’m sorry dear…” Your mother whispers to you as she follows behind him.

You collapse to the floor in tears. It feels like your entire world just went up in flames. You did not want to live in Kings Landing, you wanted to stay right here in the snowy North you had grown to love. You did not want to marry the prince, you wanted to marry Cregan who you had also grown to love.

‘Oh Cregan…’ You think. Breaking this news to him would be heartbreaking.

You pick yourself up off the floor and take deep breaths to steady your still shaky breathing. Once you have composed yourself you rush to find Cregan.

Cregan was standing alone in the Godswood looking to the tree before he turns and spots you approaching with a red nose and puffy eyes.

“What is wrong (y/n)?” He asks concerned.

You throw your arms around him and begin to sob again. He hugs you tightly as your tears dampen his fur cloak.

“Shh, it’s ok.” He pets your hair, causing you to cry harder, his tenderness being a reminder of what you would lose soon. “Tell me what is going on.”

“I h-have t-to leave.” You choke out before you begin crying again.

“What do you mean you have to leave?” Cregan pulls back to cup your cheek and look into your eyes.

“My father- he…” You can barely get words out between sobs.

“Take a deep breath darling. You’re ok.”

You do as he says and take a deep shaky breath before continuing.

“He is marrying me to prince Aemond. We leave tomorrow.”

You bury your face back into his furs as you cry harder. He hugs you tighter than he ever has and for a moment does not say a word. The shock of everything fogging his thoughts.

“Please say something…” you whisper.

“How is this possible?” He finally speaks.

“I do not know…” You sniffle as you lift your head. “But my father said it is already decided.”

“But…” He cups both your cheeks in his hands and looks into your eyes with intensity you have never seen from him. “I can not lose you… I- I love you.”

“Cregan…”

Before you can respond he crashes his lips against yours. You kiss him back with all your passion. The kiss is filled with so many unspoken feelings between you. You had dreamt about kissing him many times before but never in sad circumstances like this. You continue to kiss each other like it is your last day in this world. Which for you, it would be your last day in his world. Your lips finally part and you can see tears in Cregans eyes.

“I am so sorry, my love…” You whisper.

Cregan kisses your forehead and takes your hands before placing a kiss on each of them.

“He better treat you how you deserve. Because… you deserve the world (y/n).” Cregan chokes back tears as he speaks.

“You are my world…” You whisper, looking deep into his grey eyes.

“And you are mine…” He whispers back before pressing his forehead to yours and sighing.

You could not bear another minute of this heart shattering goodbye so you excuse yourself to pack for the trip. Tears stream down your face as you organize your belongings. Sitting on your dresser was a beautiful wooden horse your father gave you the day you arrived at Winterfell.

You run your fingers along it, remembering your excitement when you saw snow for the very first time. Your father had said it was to remember that although they were in Riverun they would always be by your side to support you in the North. You scoff at the thought of your father’s words and chuck the wooden horse into the fire.

You did not leave your room the rest of the day as you finished packing. You had no appetite at all and could not bear to see Cregan or anyone else for that matter. After sobbing in bed for most of the night, sleep finally pulls you under.

**********

The next morning your things are being loaded onto the carriage. The snow fell gently, snowflakes landing and melting in your red hair, for the last time. You spot Cregan coming to wish you farewell. You run over to him and he wraps you in a tight hug. You both remain there for a long moment, not wanting to let go. He knew once he let you out of his arms you would be gone for good.

“I do not wish to speak the words since I am leaving… but you know my feelings for you.” You sniffle against his shoulder.

“I know…” He says as you finally part. “Me too.”

Cregan held back the tears in his eyes while yours streamed freely down your face. He holds your hands in his and places a final kiss to your forehead.

“Farewell, (y/n).” He says quietly. “I wish you good luck.”

“Farewell, Cregan.” You sniffle, barely holding back from bursting into tears again.

As your hands slowly part you could literally feel him slip away from you. You rushed into the carriage, choking back sobs. As the carriage takes off you stare through the window having one last glance at Cregan, one last moment admiring the beautiful white snow, one last moment in Winterfell. You watch as everything you have grown to love fades into the distance.

The ride is long, and silent, your parents barely speak a word and you were constantly focused on keeping yourself from crying. When you reached a far enough distance the air becomes warmer, forcing you to finally take off your favourite furs made for a lady of the North. After an agonizing few weeks of travel you finally reach Kings Landing.

**********

You follow behind your parents as a guard leads you to the throne room where the king and his family await.

“Lord and Lady Tully.” The guard announces your arrival. “And their daughter, (y/n) Tully.”

You greet the king as he welcomes you and your family. Your eyes meet Aemonds as he stares you down, his face cold and unreadable. He was even more handsome than you could have imagined. You break the eye contact with the one-eyed prince and look down nervously.

The guard escorts you to your new chambers and leads your parents off to their guest room for the night. You did not want to see or speak to them ever again. When the guard returns to escort you to dinner you refuse despite his insistence. You knew it would be taken as an insult to the king but you did not care. You hoped it may even encourage him to deem you unworthy of the prince and send you back home.

Not long after someone bangs at your door, startling you. You approach the door and cautiously open it to see Aemond holding a plate of food.

“It is a great insult to refuse the kings welcome feast.” He says as he pushes past you and lets himself in.

You scoff as he places the food on the small table in your room.

“Forgive me for insulting the king, my prince. I did not have much of an appetite.” You say firmly. “And frankly, I do not care to see my parents again before they abandon me here.”

“You need to eat.” He says in a stern tone.

“What I need is to go home.” You snap back.

“This is your home now.” He states, unphased by your attitude.

You simply huff and cross your arms.

“You need to eat.” He repeats. “I know that you must be hungry by now.”

“I’m fine.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs before heading toward the door. “Goodnight, Lady (y/n).”

He bows slightly before closing the door behind him. You stand there with your arms still crossed before your stomach starts to grumble. You sigh as you sit down and tuck into your food, silently grateful he brought it to you.

You change out of your dress before curling up into the large canopy bed with red and golden curtains. You felt like a trapped bird in a royal golden cage. Your thoughts swirl around in your mind like a tornado. Your entire world has been flipped upside down in the matter of weeks. Everything you had envisioned for your life has just gone up into flames. Now you were stuck here with these strangers, forced to marry a man you did not know or want. You sob into your pillow until exhaustion finally drags you into a restless slumber.

**********

The next morning you sleep in and take your time dressing. You had no intention on intending breakfast either and having to see your parents before they depart. Once you’re dressed you sit at the vanity and brush your hair in the mirror. Suddenly, there is a loud knock on the door.

“Come in.” You call, placing your brush down.

The door opens and Aemond appears with a plate of breakfast food. He walks over and places it on the same table as before.

“I assumed you would not be at breakfast with your parents in attendance.” He says flatly. “But you should eat.”

He says nothing else as he turns to leave.

“Thank you.” You say as he goes to close the door.

“Mhm.” He nods, turning his head to look at you before exiting and shutting the door behind him.

You sit down to the plate full of a variety of foods from the breakfast table. His caring gesture felt so confusing when he acts so cold towards you.

**********

You finish doing your hair before looking through the small bookshelf in the corner of your room. Most books seemed to be about boring histories until you find a book about dragons. You pull it from the shelf and spend the rest of your day reading through it. You had never even seen a dragon but now you were about to marry someone who has the biggest one in the world.

That evening you plucked up the courage to attend dinner. You would at least not have to see your family anymore but you worried for how the this family would treat you, especially with how you had isolated yourself away from them.

The guard leads you to the dining hall where the royal family were seated for dinner. You were surprised by the warm welcome as the king offers you a seat. You did not say much as you ate looking down at your plate. The light conversation was mainly between the king and queen. Aemond sat across from you and kept his eye on you the entire time.

When supper was finished Aemond offers to escort you back to your chambers. You say goodnight to everyone before taking his arm. The air was tense as you walked down the halls in silence.

“I would like to take you on a walk through the gardens tomorrow.” Aemond says once you reach your chamber, the offer catching you off guard.

“I… um, I’m not sure.” You respond looking down.

Aemond lightly lifts your chin with his finger, making your eyes meet his. The contact made your heart race before he casually drops his hand back down.

“You must be bored remaining alone in your bedroom.” He questions.

“No.” You scoff. “There are plenty of books to keep me occupied.”

“What are you reading?” He raises a brow.

“Why do you care?” You glare at him.

He simply shrugs and slightly smirks at your attitude.

“I am not sure the title… it’s just a book about dragons. I thought it sounded interesting.” You shrug.

“Have you ever seen a dragon?” His smirk grows.

“No…”

“Would you like to?”

“I am stuck here in Kings Landing for the rest of my life… I am sure I will see one sometime.” You cross your arms.

“I have a better idea than a walk in the gardens. I will meet you here midday tomorrow.”

“But-“ You begin.

“Goodnight, Lady (y/n).” He says over you as he bows and leaves you.

“Goodnight, Prince Aemond.” You say under your breath once he’s out of ear shot.

**********

The next morning you attend a quiet breakfast. You pretend not to notice Aemond observing you the entire time. Midday you are reading in your chambers when there is a knock at the door. You answer the door to Aemond, as expected.

“Ready?” He asks.

“For what? You never told me where we are going.”

He lightly chuckles, the first time you have heard him laugh, and offers his arm. Without further questions you take his arm as he leads you through the castle.

You follow him into the dragon pit. You stop in your tracks when a gigantic dragon comes into your sight.

“There is no need to be afraid. She will not harm you unless I command it.” Aemond reassures you.

“And what if you did command it?” You question.

“Then you would be a pile of ash.” He smirks. “Lucky for you, I would not want to destroy such beauty.”

You blush at his response. He was acting so differently than the coldness you expected.

“Here.” He offers his hand to you.

You place your hand in his and feel instant sparks as he looks into your eyes, clearly feeling it too. He clears his throat before leading you over to Vhagar and moving your hand up to stroke her. She grumbles which startles you and you feel Aemond chuckle again behind you. He slowly removes his hand from yours as you continue to pet Vhagar.

“She seems to like you.” He says. “And she does not like anyone.”

You smile to him and see a rare smile on his lips. Not a smirk, a genuine smile.

“Would you like to go for a ride?” He asks.

You look to him with shock in your eyes as you contemplate the question. The idea terrified yet excited you. Not many people get the chance to ride a dragon in their lives and you could not pretend like you have not dreamt of it before.

Aemond seems surprised when you agree and then a wide grin spreads across his face.

“Very well.” He smiles.

You watch as he climbs atop Vhagar before reaching his hand to you, gesturing to climb up. You pull yourself up the ropes before grabbing Aemonds hand. He hoists you the rest of the way so you are sitting behind him. You were certain he could feel your heart beating rapidly against his back.

“Hold on tight.” He smirks.

You wrap your arms tightly around him, your body pressing up against his. The heat in your cheeks rise as you realize this is the closest you have been to him.

You don’t have time to dwell on the thought as Vhagar begins to walk out of the dragon pit before taking off. Your breath catches as you are lifted up into the sky. You close your eyes and squeeze Aemond so tight you were surprised he could still breathe.

“Open your eyes.” Aemond says, somehow knowing you closed them.

You open your eyes and for a brief moment you worry you had fallen off the dragon and died. The way you soared above the clouds was a sight of the heavens. After that you don’t shut your eyes for another second, taking in the sky around you and the lands below you. Aemond circles back around and you squeeze him tight again as he begins to descend. Once you’ve reached the dragon pit Aemond jumps off and helps you down off Vhagar.

“How did you enjoy your first dragon ride?” He smiles to you.

“I- I- I am hardly ever speechless.” You say with a beaming smile. “That was indescribable.”

Aemonds smile remains as he kisses your hand. You gaze into each others eyes for a long moment before you lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips. He smirks to you before taking your hand again and leading you out of the dragon pit.

You and Aemond were both more lively at supper than usual, talking of the dragon ride you went for earlier. Once the meal is finished Aemond escorts you to your chambers for the night.

“I had a wonderful time with you today.” You say to Aemond as you walk down the halls. “That was honestly the first time I have felt true happiness since being here.”

“I am glad. I quite enjoy your company here. So I hope I can continue to make you happy.” Aemond responds.

“Well, now you have the rest of our lives to do so.” You playfully nudge him, making him smirk.

Once you reach your chambers you look to Aemond.

“Thank you, my prince. For everything.” You think back to the meals he first brought you when you refused to leave your room.

“Of course, my lady… Soon to be, my princess.” He takes your hand to kiss.

You gaze into his eyes with a heartfelt smile. He smiles back at you before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to your lips. When your eyes meet again there is a strange tension in the air. You watch him glance to your lips again before he suddenly cups your cheeks and brings your lips back to his. The kiss quickly turns heated as you wrap your arms around his neck and his tongue dips into your mouth. Your heart races against your chest as he grabs your waist and pulls you closer against him. The desire between you both is electric. He pushes you up against the wall and you feel his hardness press against your hip, making you gasp into his mouth.

When your lips part you feel yourself almost lean back in, like a moth to a flame. You look at each other with wild eyes as you catch your breath.

“Goodnight, my lady.” Aemond places a kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight, my prince.” You say bashfully.

Once you enter your chambers you let out a heavy breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. You get ready for bed, your thoughts full of Aemond. You did not expect to develop any feelings in this new marriage but now he was all you could think about. The fire between you was indescribable. You fall into a peaceful sleep as you begin to imagine your wedding and future to come.

**********

The next day everything changes. King Viserys passed away overnight. All the small folk are gathered to witness Aegon being crowned as the new king. Your family had pledged fealty to Rhaenyra when she was first crowned heir. You panic and worry for what may come from the throne being usurped.

The next few days pass by in a blur. You hardly saw Aemond and when you did there was never private moments to talk. He even stopped escorting you from meals. You could tell it pained him greatly but he could not find the time right now with everything going on.

One night a knock on your door startles you awake. You rush over, hoping to find Aemond on the other side. Your face drops with disappointment when instead you find a guard standing there.

“What is it?” You ask sleepily.

“Please keep your voice down my lady.” He says as he hands you a hooded cloak, making you arch your brow at him. “Your parents received a raven regarding this treachery. They asked I bring you home.”

“Home? What are you talking about? This is my home now... And why would they ask a gold cloak to take me away from kings landing? Why would you agree?” You babble.

“I will explain everything on our way to Winterfell. Please, my lady. We haven’t much time.” He says, peering over his shoulder.

“I would need to collect my things…” Your brain was hazy from sleep trying to comprehend what was happening.

“There is no time, my lady. Please, we need to leave now.” He begins to panic.

With no time to give it thought, you simply nod and put on the cloak to hide your vibrant red hair. He leads you cautiously through the castle through hidden passages you had never known were there. Eventually they lead you to the streets of Kings Landing. There was a carriage waiting for you just outside the city gates.

Once you are on the road you finally have a moment to process your thoughts. Your heart sinks and your stomach twists at the thought of Aemond discovering your disappearance. Tears run down your face at the thought. You did not want to leave Kings Landing, you did not want to leave him.

The next weeks of traveling was even more dreadful than when you were going to Kings Landing. Multiple times you considered jumping out of the carriage and running back to the Red Keep.

You could hardly eat with your stomach in knots. Aemond blurred all of your thoughts. All you could think of was him. The intense kisses you shared, the amazing dragon ride, his acts of kindness. It broke your heart to imagine how much you must have hurt him by leaving. You had disappeared in the middle of the night, leaving all your things behind. You worried how he would think you chose to abandon him, or worse, think you had been stolen in the night. Which in a way, you had been.

You begin to shiver as you get closer to Winterfell, the air getting colder. The guard notices and pulls a fur cloak out of a small chest inside the carriage. You wrap it tightly around you and try to steady your nerves.

“We should be there soon.” He says.

You simply nod and rest your eyes. The next time you open your eyes the carriage comes to a halt.

“Are we here?” You shoot up.

The guard nods and opens the door. You’re instantly blinded by the white of the snow. Your eyes adjust to see your parents waiting for you. You simply glare at them before your eyes land on Cregan and your expression softens. You had been so worried about Aemond that seeing Cregan nearly slipped your mind entirely.

You jump out of the carriage and do not hesitate to throw yourself in his arms. He hugs you back tightly and pats your hair.

“I thought I would never see you again.” He whispers in your ear.

You nod as the tears start again. You part and he wipes them from your face. You softly smile at him and he kisses your forehead.

“My darling, we are so glad you are safe.” Your mother interrupts to hug you.

“As soon as we heard Aegon was usurping the throne we knew we had to bring you home.” Your father says.

“Yes, thank you.” You say dryly. Your father goes to respond but you cut him off. “Thank you for dragging me away from my home, my life, everyone I have ever known. Then, deciding to bring me back and steal me away in the night. I am not sure the royals even know where I am.”

“We made them aware once you were a safe enough distance that they could not go after you.” He responds.

“Now you no longer have to marry that ‘cold prince’.” Your mother quotes your words from when you were leaving.

You think to Aemond finding out they had taken you back to Winterfell.

“Do you not think they will come after us? After me? They have dragons.” You cross your arms.

Part of you feared Aemond would come for you and steal you away. Another part of you hoped he would.

“They are far too busy with the coming war to worry about a stolen bride.” Your father says.

“That is all I have ever been to you, huh? A bride to be sold off to whichever family benefits you most.”

Before your father can respond you stomp off to the castle.

**********

You make your way to your previous bedroom, relieved to see it remains the same as you had left it. You sit down on the bed and cry into your hands. A knock at the door interrupts your sobs.

“Come.” You call dryly, assuming it was your parents.

Cregan cautiously opens the door and you stand from your bed.

“Cregan…” You say as you walk over to him. “I am so glad you are here.”

Cregan boldly closes the distance between you and pulls you into a searing kiss. All of the feelings you have for him come flooding back as you kiss him back passionately.

“(Y/n)… I have been so lost without you.” Cregan says lowly. “I feel like the luckiest man alive to have you in my arms again.”

“I missed you too.” You whisper as you rest your foreheads against each other.

He kisses you again, this time lifting you up and walking you over to the bed.

“My love… I don’t know if I can wait for our wedding night to have you.” He says as he puts you back down. “You are all I have been able to think about since the moment you left.”

You meet his eyes and they’re filled with so many emotions. Heartbreak, sadness, worry, relief, desire, love. You gaze back at him with the same feelings in your eyes.

“Then don’t.” You whisper.

Without hesitation, he kisses you again before moving his lips to your neck causing a small whimper to escape you. You tug at his cloak until it drops to the floor and he moves to push yours off your shoulders. You begin to underdress each other layer by layer, stealing hungry kisses in between. When Cregans upper half is finally exposed you run your fingers down his toned stomach. He moves his hands along the curves your body as you stand in nothing but your shift. You step back slightly and he watches as you slowly lift the thin dress over your head.

“You are so beautiful.” Cregan whispers before capturing your lips again.

You crawl into bed and watch as he unties the strings of his pants and they drop to the floor. Your eyes widen at his hardened length on display. When your eyes dart back up to his there’s a fire that lights within you both. He crawls on top of you before taking your breast in his mouth as his hand massages the other. You squirm underneath him as your hands move to his hair. His lips make their way back up to your neck.

“I love you (y/n).” He says lowly in your ear.

“I love you, Cregan.” You breathe.

His eyes meet yours and he smiles down at you with pure adoration.

“Are you certain about this, my love? We can wait until we are wed…” He asks, though you can tell there is only one answer he is hoping to hear.

You nod and kiss his lips. He dips his tongue into your mouth as he lines himself up to your entrance. You wince in pain as he slowly pushes into you. He moves slowly to give you time to adjust but also because he was barely holding it together. The feeling of you wrapped tightly around him made his head spin.

The pain soon begins to fade and you crave more of him. Something overcomes you as you move to push him onto his back and climb on top of him. He looks at you with wide eyes as you begin rocking your hips against his. You grind against his length and it sends sparks through your entire body. Cregan quickly closes his eyes, the sight of you above him as pleasured moans begin to pour from your mouth had him barreling towards his release.

“My love, please…” Cregan breathes. “I’m not going to last much longer if you continue to do that.”

You smirk down at him and watch a small gasp escape him as you line him up to your entrance and begin to slide down onto his cock.

You moan louder and have to remind yourself to be quiet, you two were not really supposed to be doing this before you are wed. His choked out moans as you ride him makes the knot in your stomach tighten more and more. You cry out his name and before you could even comprehend what was happening your entire body feels like it lit up in flames. Your vision goes black and pleasure clouds your mind. Cregan finally opens his eyes and watches you as you come undone around him. The sight of you instantly triggers his release and he groans out as his fingers dig into your hips and he comes deep inside you.

You collapse onto the bed beside him and you both lay there panting. Cregan pulls you in close and wraps his arms around you. You nuzzle your face into his neck as you hug him back.

“I feel like I’m dreaming, I just cannot believe I am holding you in my arms right now.” Cregan says softly. “Please promise me this is not a dream. Promise me you are real.”

You move your head to meet his gaze. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek as you smile warmly at him.

“I promise you this is real. I’m real.” You say before placing a kiss to his lips.

“I hope so.” He smiles warmly back at you as he lightly strokes your hand on his face.

**********

The next few days are busy with wedding preparations as your parents did not want to waste any time. You spend most of your time with Cregan, chatting away like you used to and stealing private kisses in between.

The day of your wedding was quick to come. You were filled with excitement and nerves as you put on the last of your furs.

Snow gently falls from the sky as Cregan comes into your view. You smile to each other as you walk down the snowy isle. He takes your hand in his and the ceremony begins.

“She is mine and I am hers. From this day, until the end of my days”

“He is mine and I am his. From this day, until the end of my days” You recite together as you gaze deeply into each others eyes.

You seal your marriage with a kiss. Cregan holds your hand up to the crowd and they cheer for you both. As you smile widely to the crowd, the thought of Aemond crosses your mind and there’s a pang in your chest. You push the thought away and try to focus on the present moment. Standing side by side with Cregan, whom you loved deeply, you looked like the true lady of the North that you were always meant to be.

[retroaria]

hello! if you're not busy, then may i please request an interviewer!reader x the blue lock boys? in which they become enamored with their interviewers charm. a few specific characters i want are: sae, rin, nagi and kaiser. but feel free to add or remove characters as you'd like! you can do this in your free time, no pressure. thank you, and take care!

a/n: thank you for requesting!! i’m so sorry please don’t hate me for how long this took i am NOT a professional :x

⋆˙⟡ interviewer!reader x - rin - nagi - kaiser - ⋆˙⟡

• | BLUE LOCK M.LIST | •

nagi seishiro ᯓᡣ𐭩

*totally lovestruck*

nagi has always struck me as someone who considers himself to be “out of the league” for most people he finds attractive, so he doesn’t put himself out there and doesn’t really know how. if he was in a situation where he had to interact with someone he genuinely was enamored by, he’d be a mess.

and so he stands there, dopy, clueless, not even looking correctly in the camera and seemingly staring at…you? No, he’s definitely staring at you. his eyes are dull and dim, but they seem to be a little hazed, glossed over with a sheen of fascination. he shakes his head and nods and mumbles, unbeknownst to whatever it is you’ve actually been asking him.

this is not the look nagi ever intended to have when speaking to someone he finds this attractive, but he truly can’t help it. his minds gone blank and he isn’t sure if you’re standing perfectly under a spotlight or if you’re an angel naturally glowing in his presence. his internal dialogue is stuck between cringing at himself and taking mental note of every single feature he can gather with his eyes on you - all over you, i should say.

nagi would be way too excited to actually ask you out (also definitely not after staring you down like a creep), he’d be too afraid of losing his cool. but he would absolutely remember your name and ask around when he has the chance - would ask reo for help with this lol. through some industry path of team managers to stadium staff to news reporters, he eventually finds you again. would 100% stalk you on social media and follow you just to see where that goes .

just like rin, he’d try to be in the right place at the right time and do the right things to get you to strike some sort of non formal conversation with him in the hopes that’ll it’ll create an opening for him to ask you out :x

rin itoshi ᯓᡣ𐭩

*blushes and looks away…*

rin hates interviews. he doesn’t like open ended questions and he hates having a camera shoved in his face. most of the reporters that run up to him on the edge of the field just holler questions and statements at him that can often feel degrading and presumptuous.

when he was stopped just outside the stadium by you and your small crew, you spoke to him with a lack of crassness that he hasn’t been on the receiving end of in ages - so he agrees. his answers remain cold and striking, as they always are, but his demeanor is more loose than usual.

rin initially doesn’t feel anything for you other than respect and gratitude for treating him like a human unlike the other reporters he’s encountered. he was sure to get your name and properly thank you. he’s the type to think about you and hope that you’ll cross paths again. wouldn’t go out of his way to find you, but at every game and every event he scans the crowds in search of your smile that had welcomed him so tenderly before. not to mention your face has popped into his head almost everyday since he first met you and it’s freaking him the fuck out.

when he does see you again he accepts your interview request immediately, bullshits through all the questions, and sticks around a little longer to talk to you. he’s painfully awkward and even more painfully unaware of it, but once you notice the slight blush on his face you can steer him in the right direction lol

michael kaiser ᯓᡣ𐭩

*prince charming*

when you introduced yourself to kaiser in hopes of getting an interview you certainly did not expect the offer to be accepted so enthusiastically. kaiser isn’t necessarily bothered by interviews, but he hates having to think of answers on the spot.

he’d throw out some cheeky lines like “If I smile at the camera can I get a date?” and a classic for him, “Whatever you say, beautiful.”

you’re asking him questions he surely has been asked before, questions he’s probably been trained to answer, but his answers are boastfully and flirtatiously directed at you and you alone. your camera man leaned over and asked if he should just cut all the footage. you entertain him a little more, trying to see if you can get him to break his prince charming act and actually talk about the game he just played.

eventually he lets up and you get the interview done. as you and your crew are about to leave the stadium, he grabs your hand and lifts it up, planting a soft kiss to your knuckles (you think maybe this could be considered assault, but you’ll let it slide for him this one time).

unlike the other two, kaiser doesn’t have a bashful bone in his body in this situation. i’ve always felt that he isn’t as much of a manwhore as everyone thinks he is, which i still stand by!!! but if he sees you and is truly enamored by you he knows how to make his feeling apparent.

[spectersgf]

— driver's seat storm chasing 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

pairing: tyler owens × reader 

summary: he was about to take off again, chase another storm, leave you worrying for hours upon hours. the least he could do was give you a parting gift.

warnings: SMUT! kinda angsty a little, cute yeehaw banter, cowgirlisms, hair pull, ass smack, titty suck. all the good stuff.

wordcount: 3.2k

a/n: watched twisters literally two days ago, had this thought, here we are. not proofread at all (as always, soz) but filled with passion (and horny)

(if you want to be tagged in future fics or if you have any requests, let me know! for my other fics, here's my masterlist!)

"oh, you're such a prick, tyler owens!"

you were shouting at your best friend, which was a regular occurrence due to his dangerous passion. tyler was a professional 'tornado wrangler' which was his idiotic way of saying he chased tornadoes for the sake of content creation. you knew it went much deeper than that for him; this was his passion and he was smart and knew so much about storms, but that doesn't mean he wasn't stupid and reckless.

he had just come back from a particularly dangerous storm, one that left you more worried for his safety than ever before. you cried seeing him come back to town and fretted over his injuries and bruises, begging him to stop and not go again.

according to what he just told you, your begging was pointless.

he was about to take off again, chase another storm, put himself back in harm's way. leave you worrying for hours upon hours, shaking until he'd return.

"do i mean nothing to you? does my begging and pleading mean nothing?" your voice was strained but you didn't lower your volume, desperate for him to see your anguish.

"you know that's not the case, darlin', but storm chasing is my life. you know that better than anyone." his tone was much steadier than yours, and his comments were entirely reasonable. you knew how much of his time he dedicated to his passion, but that didn't stop your frustration.

"don't play that fucking card with me, ty. it's not even been 48 hours since i thought you'd died, and now you're up and leaving again!" your anger had subsided and your tone had softened, now showing vulnerability and hurt. your shoulders sagged and you turned away from him, tears that you didn't want him to see stinging your eyes.

"y/n..." his voice trailed off, unsure if he was supposed to move to comfort you or give you space.

“you don’t understand what it does to me to see you walk out that door, ty. every single time i’m stuck asking myself if today’s the day i lose my best friend. and i know you’re careful and you know your stuff and you’re basically a pro but sometimes i can’t even bring myself to watch the streams and the videos because i’m so scared.” you rambled your confession, back still turned away from him but you’d started pacing. when you finished speaking, you turned to face him, eyes pleading. “i’m not asking you to stop. i’d never ask you to quit your passion. i just wish you’d understand from my perspective.”

"i'm sorry," he started, but you knew where his apology was headed. "but i have to do this. this is my life, and i'm helping people by doing this."

your tear-filled gaze met his as he spoke, and the look of sincerity on his face made you cave, as usual. "fine, go. it's not like i could've stopped you."

you watched him pick up his hat and place it easily on his head as he turned to walk away. he opened the door but turned before heading out. "you know i love you, y/n," he said quietly, sounding almost defeated.

his words struck you but before you could say anything, he was out the door. for a couple of minutes you stood in place, stunned at his proclamation. when you finally snapped out of your shock, you walked out the door, following behind him as he walked to his truck.

it had started to rain and the water caused his shirt to stick to him like a second skin, but you didn't allow yourself any time to ogle his physique. you reached out and grabbed his arm, feeling his cold skin against your warm touch. you pulled his arm, forcing him to turn and face you as you seethed.

"love me how?" you asked, obviously distressed. the rain was making your hair to stick to your face but you didn't care; all you cared about was the man in front of you. your best friend. "love me how, tyler?"

"y/n..." for the second time today his voice trailed off after saying your name like that and it infuriated you. your face burned from embarrassment and before you had fully processed your reaction, you slapped him.

when he turned his head back to look at you again, his eyes were swimming with hurt. you loved his eyes. you hated seeing them like this. but all you could focus on was your own hurt. after years of being his best friend but craving more, and years of casual touches and flirting and cuddling and rumours in your small town, this is what it had come to. a halfway confession.

"fuck you," you spit before turning away to walk back inside.

this time, it was tyler who reached out to grab you. his big hand encased your bicep and forced you to face him again. before you could say anything, he spun you around so that you were pinned against the door of his truck.

"what the fuck is your probl–" your words were abruptly cut off when he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. you stood still in shock for a few seconds before melting into him, one hand on the junction between his neck and shoulder, the other hand on his bicep. meanwhile, he had one hand on your waist and the other held your face, fingers splaying across your cheek and neck. you kissed him back with passion and vigour, easily letting his tongue explore your mouth for the first time.

your hands snakes upwards, pulling his hat off his head and slipping it onto yours while your free hand fisted his hair, threading your fingers through his locks. his hand trailed from your waist to your ass as he pulled away from your kiss for a second.

"you sure you wanna wear my hat, darlin'?" he panted, raising one cocky eyebrow as his eyes searched yours.

"wear the hat, ride the cowboy, right?" you asked, smirking confidently. he immediately matched your facial expression, smirking in return, but his eyes twinkled with joy and amusement.

tyler was much taller than you and evidently he was starting to see your height difference as an issue, since he brought his other hand down to your ass and lifted you, urging your legs around his waist and bringing you face to face. he kissed you again, just a quick kiss, before asking, "so, cowgirl. where are we doing this?"

"if i'm the cowgirl, are you my wild stallion?" you teased playfully, smiling as you looked at him affectionately. after seeing the fiery look in his eyes, you were unable to resist, and you pulled his mouth to yours once again, this kiss more intense than the last. you messily pulled his bottom lip into your mouth and sucked on it, followed by a gentle bite, before pulling away and desperately kissing down his neck. "i want you in your truck. driver's seat," you murmured against his skin.

before tyler was able to haul you into his truck, you detached yourself from him. once your feet were safely back on the ground, you eagerly grabbed the hem of his soaked t-shirt and peeled it off his tanned torso, shamelessly admiring his body as you did. you dragged your nails across his toned abdomen and brought your mouth to his chest, sucking and biting at his skin. you could barely register his groan, only able to focus on his body and being able to maintain skin-to-skin contact with him.

tyler pulled you away from him by gently tugging on your hair and you looked at him quizzically. "ty, what the hell?"

"enough teasing, cowgirl. time to ride the stallion," he told you, causing you both to erupt in a fit of giggles.

"never say that again, tyler," you replied, leaning up to peck him quickly.

he picked you up briefly and immediately put you down in a spot away from the driver's side door and swiftly got comfortable in his van, away from the cold rain. while he did so, you made quick work of unbuttoning your flannel shirt, leaving you in just a lacy, sheer bra and jeans. and his hat. once he was seated, tyler gave you a thorough once-over, letting out a low whistle as he did.

"somebody call for a ride?" his playful tone was supplemented by his signature cheeky smile, but you rolled your eyes at his comment.

"god, you're so fuckin' corny."

you boosted yourself into the truck, situating yourself easily on his lap. you shuffled around to get comfortable on tyler's lap and were rewarded with a strained groan. this time it was you giving him a cheeky smile followed by a quick roll of your hips over his. he placed his hands firmly on your waist, fingers dipping into your jeans and stopping your movements.

"keep that up and this'll be over before it started, sweetheart," he told you, voice strained and you could tell it was from arousal. you watched his mouth as he spoke and, unable to resist him, you leaned in and kissed him again. your almost bare chest was pressed against his and your hands roamed his skin, picking up water droplets as they went. the feel of his toned muscle under your hands caused you to moan into his mouth, turning tyler on even more.

his hands wound into your hair, all the way up to the root, and he tugged lightly. you whimpered and dragged your hips over his, and when tyler pulled away from your kiss you unconsciously followed his movement. tyler clicked his tongue in condescending disapproval but smirked at your reaction to him.

“needy for me, baby?” he asked mockingly, one hand on your hips to halt your movement again, the other still tangled in your hair.. you nodded your response, not trusting yourself to speak in your current state. “words, sweetheart. what do you need?”

you whined but when you realised he wasn’t going to do anything until you spelled it out for him, you let out an exasperated huff. “need you to fuck me.”

tyler laughed affectionately at your desperation. “there you go, sweetheart. that’s what i like to hear.” you preened from his praise, craving to receive it again. with the hand that was on your hips, he undid the button of your jeans and pulled the zipper down with a quiet hiss. instead of pulling down the restrictive fabric like you expected, he slipped his hand into your barely-existent underwear and stroked with a featherlike touch. 

“this all for me?” he asked as he dragged a finger through your arousal; you were soaked and his teasing tone was only making it worse. you dropped your head onto his shoulder and tried to slyly jerk your hips forward, though you were unable to. “patience, baby. i’ve chased this storm so long, now let me enjoy it.”

his words jolted you caused a moan to fall from your mouth. your skin was feverish despite the biting cold and you were becoming increasingly desperate. “next time, please, tyler. i need you inside me, please,” you begged, mouth against his tan skin. 

he didn’t say anything in response, only chuckled quietly to himself as he removed his hand from your underwear. he brought his hand up to your mouth and you looked him in the eye as you took one finger, the one that had been touching you, into your mouth and sucked. you bobbed your head back and forth for just a few seconds and hummed quietly around the digit in your mouth before releasing it and pulling tyler’s mouth to yours in a heated kiss, urging him to taste you from your own mouth. 

“god, if we weren’t in my truck right now i’d have my mouth on your sweet cunt,” he grumbled.

“don’t care, need your cock inside me.” without breaking your kiss, you pushed your jeans down over your hips but only to your knees. “i’m ready, you know i’m ready, what are we waiting for?” you asked frantically. you started to paw at his stupid belt but his hands covered yours, stopping you from getting to what you were craving.

“are you sure? we can’t go back after this and you know it.” his eyes were swimming with concern as he spoke, searching yours for any indication of your feelings. 

you moved one hand to his face, placing it on his cheek and stroking his cheekbone delicately with your thumb. “i want this. i have for a longass time. i’ve felt it for so long, and now i’m finally chasing it. are you chasing it with me?” your words were entirely sincere and this was obvious to tyler, especially when you looked in his eyes and deep into his soul.

“using my own words against me?” he teased, breaking the tension in a charming way that only he could pull off. “i’m with you.” his words were equally sincere, though you could sense the double meaning. you weren’t distressed by it; his way of telling you how he was feeling made your heart swell and added to your already dripping arousal.

you resumed your work on removing his belt, followed by unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper. tyler could only watch cockily as you did so, both hands behind his head, muscles flexing, as he admired your naked beauty. jeans pulled down, only a sheer bra covering your breasts, and his hat on your head.

“go on, baby. take me out; it’s all yours.”

his words empowered you and you happily obliged, appreciating his quiet hiss as you made contact with his skin once again. you tunnel visioned on his thick cock in your hand, swiping your thumb over the tip and pumping it once, twice, three times. tyler watched your every moment and facial expression, and he could see you practically salivating, bringing a wide and cocky smirk to his face. “another time,” he murmured despite his better opinion of letting you take him in your mouth the way you so obviously craved. you simply nodded in agreement, seemingly in a trance as you eyed the way your smaller hand wrapped around his girth. 

the feeling of his hands on your hips gently urging you forwards and upwards snapped you out of your dreamlike state but you didn’t resist his manhandling; instead, you welcomed the way he took control of the situation. took control of you. 

before proceeding further he looked you in the eyes again, showing that same sincerity and vulnerability, silently asking ‘are you sure you’re sure?’. you smiled at the gesture, appreciative of his concern, and nodded. your eyes sparkled with excitement as you brought your bottom lip between your teeth and reached behind you to guide tyler’s hard cock into your wetness. the pair of you moaned in tandem as you sunk down on him, fitting together perfectly. 

“c’mere, cowgirl,” he murmured, voice heavy with arousal. you shifted forward with him inside you, pulling a groan from deep within his chest as he pulled you in for another kiss. the combination of his searing kiss and the way he filled you up was electrifying. your entire body moved on its own accord, as if you had come alive for the first time; your mouth worked against his and you circled your hips against his and you were consumed entirely by him. 

one of his hands pawed at your ass while the other worked on removing your bra. when he did finally get your bra unhooked, it was practically ripped off your body and thrown to the backseat. tyler’s lips reluctantly left yours but they immediately attached to your right breast, with his hand squeezing the left. he sucked a harsh mark into the flesh before his mouth circled your peaked nipple, sucking eagerly before rolling it gently between his teeth. 

“you have no idea how desperate i’ve been to get my mouth on your pretty tits, sweetheart,” he mumbled against you. his words caused your hips to stutter against his as you rode him, hitting your sweet spot and forcing a high pitched moan from you. 

“i need you to do it, ty,” you whimpered, hungry for him to take control again.

“such a good girl, telling me what you need.” his praise made you glow and you unconsciously clenched your muscles around him.

his grip on your ass tightened slightly before he slapped it, deliciously stinging your skin. you moaned and jerked forward again and your head immediately fell backwards, eyes rolling back. 

“god, y/n, you’re a walking turn on,” he moaned, hips starting to buck as he fucked into you. “you have no fuckin’ idea what you do to me. the number of times i’ve wanted to do this with you right here, audience be damned. the way i crave the taste of your sweet cunt on my tongue. having to stop myself from smacking your ass or squeezing your tits whenever you’re in those tiny bikinis or scraps of fabric that you call pyjamas. and now you’re mine and we can do all of it.”

you moaned and whimpered pathetically throughout tyler’s speech, the words that you were longing to hear from him finally being voiced while he fucked you. 

“i’m close,” you mumbled, bringing your hand to your mouth to muffle your noises. “need you to fill me up.”

his eyes squeezed shut due to your muffled words and he pulled your hand away from your mouth. “i’ll give you whatever you need, baby, but i need to hear you when i do,” he told you, linking your fingers together and resting your joined hands on his glistening chest. “cum for me, sweet girl. cum on my cock, let me feel you.”

his words tipped you over the edge and your muscles spasmed around him as you reached your climax, moaning his name as you did. tyler followed suit, filling you upon your request. 

“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, pulling your chest to his and kissing you again, sweetly this time despite your expectations.

the pair of you were a panting, sweaty mess when you both finished, but you didn’t break any of your attachments. he didn’t pull out of you, and he didn’t let you loosen your embrace.

“i guess you could say i wrangled your tornado, hm?” 

“you did not say that to me while i have your dick and cum inside me right now, tyler owens.”

“c’mon, darlin’, you obviously like my lines,” he teased, smiling sweet and sincere.

“more than just your lines. i like you,” you confessed, voice quiet and shy out of fear of rejection.

“yeah? you got a li’l crush on me?” his playful and teasing tone made you smile. dissipating any worries you had. this was the boy you were falling for. 

“just a little one. really, i’m just here for your truck.” the banter between the two of you was light and easy, something that you both always appreciated about each other. you clicked. 

“yeah, cowgirl, i know how you feel about my truck.”

you giggled at his response and kissed the bare, warm skin on his shoulder.

“you’re the most beautiful storm i’ve chased, y/n.” he looked into your eyes as he spoke, voice quiet as if speaking too loud would disrupt the moment.

“that’s funny. because you’re the sun coming up after the storm.”

WHEW! first tyler fic done bbz<333 more to come, requests are open HERE! if you want to be tagged in future fics lmk, please tell me what you think, even if you think i should never write again ok thank u bye ily bye

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