#i met them and became their friend :))) but it was only a dream :((( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonlinos · 7 months

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It would’ve been sweet if it could’ve been me

♡ Pairing: Bang Chan × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Single dad!Chan, friends to strangers to lovers

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), mentions of parental guilt, themes of loneliness, Chan is stuck in the past, lying, mentions of feeling lost in life, story spans over a number of years, nipple play, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

♡ Word count: 8.2k

♡ Synopsis: Being a single dad to Hyerin is all Chan has known for the past four years. He and his ex-girlfriend reached an agreement that saw her going off to live a life she had always dreamed of while he was left with a life of loneliness, which he endured with a smile on his face for his daughter. A small gleam of hope seems to appear in his life in the shape of you. But hiding himself under a haze of lies seems to be his only option if he ever wants to keep you.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon! Thank you for requesting, this was so much fun to write 🩷 I will admit this is a lot more focused on Chan as a character than I originally wanted it to be, and I kinda went a bit crazy with the plot, but I hope you still like it! The song Chan sings to Hyerin is Little Star by Standing Egg 💗

Every day in Chan’s life is a monotonous, never-ending cycle. Like watching reruns of bad TV shows on gloomy Sunday nights, every second of his past and upcoming days is etched into his mind like a quilt of mundane tasks and repetitive moments.

But that wasn’t always the case.

Once, excitement filled his every waking moment. His weekends were a whirlwind of new places teeming with bustling crowds and unfamiliar faces who became fast friends. During his university years, he and his friends lived their lives with ardor, savoring every moment as if it could be their last. His days were filled with an array of unplanned parties and impromptu trips which brought a kaleidoscope of color to his life.

Until he met Dana.

He was about to graduate, and she swept into his life like a hurricane — flipping everything upside down before disappearing just as quickly, with only destruction and ashes remaining in her wake.

He was infatuated; she was bored. That was clear from the start, but Chan was too blinded by affection to be concerned with such a minute detail. So long as he got to have her by his side, he was happy. Their relationship lasted a year, yet it changed his life forever.

He was twenty-one when Dana announced her pregnancy. On his twenty-second birthday, she told him she didn’t want to be a mother.

By that point in his life, Chan had already forsaken everything he had for her. He turned his back on his old friends, the vibrant life he once led, and everything that once made him who he was. Without Dana, he would be left with nothing but the ugly reflection of his self-destructive choices made in the name of a loveless love.

And so, they came to an agreement. Dana would leave — that had been her plan from the start, anyway — but she would leave Chan with a small piece of their story.

Hyerin was born on November 20th, 2019.

Dana left on a plane to New York City on December 1st.

Now, the only speck of color in his life is Hyerin. In the four years Chan has been lucky enough to be her dad, he has found she is much more than simply a reminder of Dana or what could have been between them. Hyerin is his entire world. She is the love he’s unknowingly been searching for his whole life, and he would sacrifice every last bit of himself to make sure she only ever knows happiness.

They live a quiet life, with Chan working a less-than-fulfilling corporate job and spending all his free time with her. He sometimes allows himself to wonder what happened to his old friends — did they all eventually settle for the mundanity of adult life, or are they still chasing an endless thrill? But he never dwells on it too much. The sweet memories of his early twenties are now nothing more than a comforting escape when the weight of loneliness becomes too overwhelming.

Today is one of those days. A late Friday night after his shift, Chan sprawled on his couch with Jisung, a co-worker who became his first friend after many years, a silly smile on his face as he reminisced about a trip to Jeju in his sophomore year of college. This is how he lives most of his life; when he’s not in the present with Hyerin, he’s stuck in the past.

How could he not be stuck in the past? So many people he loved and memories he cherished were there.

“I don’t get how you just left all of that behind for someone,” Jisung scoffs, loosening his tie. “Why couldn’t she just join your group of friends?”

“It’s complicated,” Chan sighs, eyes wandering toward Hyerin’s bedroom door for the umpteenth time to make sure she’s still sleeping soundly. When he turns to look back at Jisung, his expression prompts him to elaborate. “What? You want the whole story?”

Jisung shrugs. “It’s not like we have any other plans for tonight.”

“Well, there was this girl in my friend group. We hooked up a lot, but our relationship went beyond that,” Chan explains, fingers tapping his thighs as the memories flood his mind. It was a sore topic, one he certainly didn’t enjoy remembering. “We never dated, but Dana was jealous, and I couldn’t blame her. Me and this girl were… very close. I couldn’t be in a relationship while also being that close to her, but I also couldn’t imagine us being only friends. So it was easier to walk away.”

Chan conveniently leaves out the fact that he walked away because an artificial love strangely provided solace for his heart, unlike the searing torment of unrequited love, which engulfed him like molten lava.

“And that was the last time you ever had that type of relationship with anyone?”

“With Dana? Yeah—”

“Hyung, you know what I mean. You told me yourself Dana didn’t love you,” Jisung points out. “I mean this other girl.”

Chan shrugs dismissively. “I guess, yeah. Doesn’t matter, though.”

And Jisung scoffs loudly at his words, rubbing his forehead with a sigh. Memories of that love flood Chan’s mind, and he's ready to let them sweep him away when Jisung abruptly turns so he sits facing him, resolve swimming in his eyes.

“Give me your phone,” his loud voice reverberates through the small apartment, prompting Chan to shush him with a stern look. “Give me your phone,” Jisung repeats himself with a harsh whisper.

Chan rolls his eyes but ultimately smiles at his friend. He retrieves his phone from the end table, handing it to a much too enthusiastic Jisung. “The password is Hyerin’s birthday,” he tells him, albeit a bit apprehensive.

He watches amusedly as Jisung types away at his own phone before doing the same on his, handing him the device with a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What did you do, you little menace?” Chan questions the younger boy, narrowing his eyes. Jisung simply shrugs.

“I got you a date tomorrow. Thank me later.”

Chan immediately sits up on the couch, eyes darting toward his phone screen. A chat with a single message from him to an unknown contact makes him question his entire friendship with Jisung.

Me: I’m your date for tomorrow 😉 Me: O’neul restaurant, 6 pm. See you there, cutie

“Jisung, what the fuck?”

“What?” His friend asks between giggles. “Sora has this friend she said desperately needs a date, and I have you in the same situation,” he explains, clearly proud of himself. “I just did you both a favor while also getting boyfriend points.”

Chan’s eyes shift toward his phone once more, inwardly cringing at the messages with a heavy sigh.

“And was making me sound this creepy necessary?”

Jisung waves his hand dismissively. “Nah, that was just a little treat for me.”

“And why the fuck is her name Mystery Girl?” Chan queries, the irritation making him unknowingly raise his voice.

“It’s a blind date,” his friend explains. “This girl’s apparently super picky, kept turning down every guy Sora suggested. So, she came up with this solution. Can’t turn you down if she doesn’t know what you look like.”

Chan groans, ultimately sinking back onto the couch with a defeated sigh. Jisung was trying to be a good friend, he knew that, but he wasn’t at all thrilled with the prospect of a date. Not only did he not want one, but he also had no time for such a futile thing. He had Hyerin, and she was the sole reason for his existence. He didn’t need anyone meddling in their little world. But he didn’t have the courage to tell Jisung that.

It would be a lie to say the past four years weren’t lonesome. Falling asleep alone in a cold, empty bed was a sorrow he had simply grown numb to. Yet, he still yearned to have someone to share the grapples of routine life with, someone whose presence alone would effortlessly diminish his worries, someone he could make love to before falling asleep and waking up intertwined.

But he couldn’t afford to have that.

At least this date was bound to fail; the woman’s demanding nature, coupled with Chan’s unwillingness to even be there in the first place sure to make their wasted time brief.

Just as he’s about to grumble about the messages again, Hyerin comes stumbling out of her room, her small feet shuffling against the floor as she rubs her sleepy eyes.

“Oh, honey, were we being too loud?” Chan asks sweetly, and his eyes discreetly shoot daggers at Jisung, who mouths an apology.

Hyerin firmly shakes her head, the crooked pigtails Chan clumsily had tied this morning coming undone as she does so. He smiles at her, propping his elbows on his knees and waiting for her to speak her little mind.

“I had a dream,” she mumbles. “With a dragon.”

Chan gasps, hands wrapping around her tiny frame and picking her up before walking toward her room. It took him some time, but he ultimately learned that it’s best to ease her back into bed while she’s distracted, lest she throws a tantrum.

“And was it a nice dragon?” He asks. Hyerin giggles, and Chan is positive that the sound has the power to light up even his most somber days.

“Of course it was a nice dragon, daddy,” she tells him. “You said I only have nice dreams ‘cause my mind is pretty, remember?”

Chan nods as he gently tucks her back into bed, triple-checking that she is comfortable and warm. “Of course, of course. How could I forget?” He slaps a hand on his forehead with a sigh. “Hyerinnie has the prettiest mind. It can only make up pretty things.”

Hyerin smiles at him, tugging her blanket close to her chin, her doe eyes already heavy with sleep and blinking languidly. Chan asks her the same question he does every night, although the answer remains unchanging every time: would she like him to sing to her? She drowsily tells him she wants to hear him sing her favorite song, Little Star.

Chan promptly gets under the covers beside her — Hyerin pouting and whining about how he’s stealing her blanket for himself, to which he can’t help the hearty laugh that escapes his lips. Since turning four, she’s developed quite a strong personality that Chan soon finds he adores, much like everything about her.

He turns on his side to watch her features as he sings; her nose and mouth so similar to his, and the way she furrows her brows while falling asleep mirrors his own habits. Chan might not be a happy man in his job or his personal life, but the boundless happiness his little gift provides him surpasses anything else he could wish for. Every now and then, he finds himself wanting more, but it’s not long before he realizes he already has everything he needs.

Chan goes over his rather extensive list of how to care for Hyerin with Jisung for the tenth time that evening, making sure the younger man knows what to do in any situation that could arise in the couple hours he’ll be gone. Hyerin is the one to usher him out of the apartment, assuring him she’ll be fine with her uncle Han, and Chan has to stop himself from wallowing over the fact that his once tiny baby is rapidly blossoming into a young kid.

He made no real effort to dress for his date; a simple button-up shirt and jeans served him just fine, seeing as he plans to return home as soon as possible. His date and he haven’t talked much at all since his initial texts yesterday, texting each other only to confirm the time and place of their basically forced date.

He arrives fifteen minutes late, all but running from the bus stop to the restaurant while cursing Jisung under his breath. This was definitely not worth the hassle, and Chan wanted nothing more than to be back at home with his daughter. He’d pick watching Tangled with her for the hundredth time over an unwanted date in a heartbeat.

Chan finally walks into the restaurant, informing the waiter that he’s there to meet Cherry. His face visibly grimaces as he mutters the words. Fuck this blind date bullshit.

He’s led to his table, dragging his feet behind the waiter. His attention is immediately drawn to the pencil holding his date’s messy ponytail together. He chuckles quietly, circling around the table and forcing out a smile to introduce himself.

But then he’s met with a sight he had long given up hope of ever seeing again: you.

You, who were next to him as he made stupid decisions during college. Like when he drunkenly thought it wise to bet his laptop in a game of beer pong.

You, who always made him your special hangover soup after a party. He especially loved it when you let him keep the leftovers, knowing that he and his roommate were hopeless in the kitchen.

You, who filled the space in his cold sheets with warmth and always made his bed feel like a sanctuary.

You, who let him make love to you despite you both swearing to be only friends.

You, who later had to watch him walk away from you like a coward, driven by sheer fear.

You, staring back at him with a stunned look on your face.

“Chan?” You ask, an unsure lilt to your words.

And Chan embarrassingly fumbles over his words, his tongue tying itself into knots in front of you. He notices you pursing your lips to stop from giggling and clears his throat a bit too loudly, a few patrons turning their heads to look at him. But he can’t bring himself to care, not when it seems the universe has turned the wheels of his fate in his favor for once.

“Uh, hi,” is all his brain can muster among the jumble of thoughts inside his head. He mentally berates himself for acting so damn awkward when you’re clearly not as affected by this encounter as he is.

“Damn, it’s been so long,” you marvel, eyes not leaving his face for a second. “I thought you moved to a different country or something. It’s so strange how we never ran into each other.”

Chan forces out a chuckle, hands now fiddling with the menu on the table. Of course you two never ran into each other; he only ever leaves the house for work or when he has to accompany Hyerin, and he doubts you frequent playgrounds or zoos.

“Yeah, I… don’t go out much anymore,” he simply says.

You hum, and he properly takes in your appearance. You haven’t changed one bit; from your hair to your choice of clothes, you’re still the same girl who ruled over his every thought during college.

You two order your food and fall into an infuriating cycle of small talk. Chan doesn’t want to talk about the weather or if you have seen the latest movie yet — he’s desperate to ask you how you’ve been, if you ever pursued your dreams, if you can still outdrink anyone in your friend group, and—

And if you’re still single because you find relationships a hassle.

But as the food arrives, you fall into an even more frustrating cycle: silence. Chan feels restless, squirming in his seat every few minutes while you calmly eat and watch the people around you. He remembers your habit of scanning crowded rooms and making up stories for strangers with your vivid imagination. He wants to ask if you still do that, but it seems he’s only grown into more of a coward since your last encounter.

You’re the first to break the silence, waiting for the waiter to leave with your plates to ask what Chan has been doing since graduating. It’s a casual question with no weight to your words, as lighthearted as you have always been. And the complete opposite of his every possible answer.

How can he tell you he’s given up music altogether, now surrounded by gray walls and lifeless faces in his corporate job? How can he tell you he’s alone most of the time, partly by choice and partly because he doesn’t know how to dig himself out of this comfortable hole he’s trapped himself in?

How can he possibly explain that he agreed to be a single father, sacrificing his own happiness for the selfish whims of a woman who never even loved him?

You’re still the same; the same carefree eyes and attitude, same easygoing approach to everything life throws your way — such as meeting him again after years.

All of him has changed.

Chan can’t tarnish your colorful life, can’t sit before you and spill out his problems or grumble about the overwhelming loneliness in his life when he knows damn well that was a consequence of his own choices.

He wants nothing more than to be the same Chan he was in college. Creating life stories for strangers in dive bars with you, not caring about whether he’ll have enough money to pay the water bill next month, not having to bear the burden of something as precious as a human life depending solely on him.

It’s selfish, but he wants nothing more than to go back.

So he does.

“I actually still write songs, though it’s only a freelance thing,” he lies. He hasn’t written a single note in years. “Other than that, I’ve just been taking it day by day. Same as I’ve always done, I guess.”

And your eyes immediately light up — you’ve always loved his songs, after all. Your conversation flows much like it used to in the past after that, with you making witty jokes and Chan laughing loudly at them. You tell him you started working as an art teacher for the elderly when living off of commissions became impossible, and that you adore the stories they share about their younger years. They remind you of your own stories together, you admit with a genuine smile.

Your conversation is endless, continuing even as Chan walks you to your car in the empty parking lot. The night has grown colder, and the crescent moon gleaming in the sky above him almost feels like a sign that things will change for the better.

As you two stand in front of your car, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Ever the free soul, you ask him outright if he would like to come back to your place. There are no further implications hidden in your request beyond a hookup. Nothing’s ever heavy with you, every little thing always feeling light as a feather.

He says he would love to, but quickly excuses himself under the guise of calling his roommate about the spare key. Chan hurriedly calls Jisung as soon as he turns a corner in the parking lot, ensuring you won’t be able to hear him. It’s juvenile, the way he’s actually taking pleasure in almost creating a different version of himself — a version much closer to who he was when you were his, at least in some sense of the word. He’s a father, he should be responsible and dependable, but the weight of that role had been thrust upon him far too abruptly. He can’t be faulted for wanting to go back in time.

“Okay, I have no time to explain,” he blurts out as soon as Jisung picks up the phone. “Would it be too much to ask you to stay the night?”

Jisung chuckles at the other end of the line. “Damn, was the date that good?”

Chan ignores his sly comment, because yes, the date was everything he never thought it could be.

“I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” he assures him. “I’ll even pay you if you want. How much—”

“Hey, no need for that,” Jisung cuts him off. “You know I love looking after Hyerin.”

And the pang of guilt inside his chest at the mention of his daughter’s name almost knocks the air out of his lungs. He feels ashamed, as if he’s neglecting his daughter for a hookup, going after a fantasy that has long crumbled and faded away.

“How is she? Is she okay?” He asks, guilt washing over him like a wave. He hadn’t thought of his daughter for a second that entire night. “Did she cry at all? Did she notice I was gone for longer than I promised?”

Jisung calls out his name with a chuckle, prompting him to stop his rambling. “Relax. We painted each other’s nails, she did my makeup, had her dinner, and is now sleeping soundly after listening to another one of uncle Han’s phenomenal stories about frogs,” He details, causing a hearty laugh to fall from Chan’s lips at the image of Jisung’s face painted with Hyerin’s cheap children’s makeup. His friend then adds, “Go get laid, man.”

And so Chan hangs up the phone, all but running toward your figure waiting by your car. You smile at him, taking his hand and pulling him into a tight embrace. It’s the first time he holds you in almost five years, and he feels his dull world away from Hyerin slowly fill up with vibrant hues.

It takes you less than fifteen minutes to reach your apartment building, and Chan is thanking any higher power that might listen for that. The sheer anticipation of what is implied to happen once you two are alone together has him picking at his cuticles until it stings.

He’s nervous, to put it lightly. A couple of terrible drunken hookups in dingy motels after office gatherings were his only sexual encounters after Hyerin was born.

But once you’re standing in front of him in your living room, your eyes never leaving his even as you’re slipping off your heels, Chan knows you’re both equals in this playing field.

He’s the one to pull you into a kiss, lips barely grazing against yours. But the feeling of finally kissing you again after so many years was like wildfire, consuming him wholly until the kiss turns feverish. His hand travels from your shoulders to your lower back, pulling you flush against his body. You hum against his lips, fingers clumsily undoing his buckle, and the prospect that you might be as eager as he is has him gripping the fabric of your dress.

Chan swears his vision goes black the moment your fingertips brush against his hardening erection, the feathery touch enough to make him sigh into your mouth.

A hand is pressed to his chest before he has the chance to think, and you’re pushing him backward until his back meets the wall. You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, leaning forward and nuzzling your face against his clothed cock.

“I missed you,” you whisper, hungry eyes looking up at him. “Don’t think I got to say that.”

Chan takes in the sight of you, memorizing and storing it in his mind alongside the countless images he already had of you on his knees for him. His fingers thread in your hair, your lips falling open with a sigh.

“I missed you too,” he professes. You have no idea how much.

With a smile, you quickly work his zipper open, pulling his jeans down his legs and pressing a wet kiss to his clothed erection. Chan feels your tongue lap at his member through his boxers, lips sucking around the head as your nails scrape the flesh of his thighs lightly.

It feels like you mouth at his length for hours, the light gray fabric of his boxers stained with your saliva and his precum, leaving Chan panting and tugging at your hair. You trail soft, wet kisses down his thigh while pushing his boxers out of your way, his cock already swollen and flushed. He’d be embarrassed for the way his body reacted so responsively to you if you weren’t also visibly as affected.

Your tongue circles his length languidly, lapping at a small bead of precum with a hum. Finally wrapping your lips around his tip, your tongue flicks teasingly beneath the head of his cock, Chan sucking in a deep breath and using his grip on your hair as leverage to pull you toward him. You almost obediently drop your jaw to slide his now fully hardened length into your mouth, your hand wrapping around the base as you begin to bob your head up and down his cock. Chan hisses your name when you relax your throat after a few passes, taking him fully into your pretty mouth, your nose brushing his pelvis.

“Fuck, you always looked so pretty like that,” Chan chokes out. “Pretty lips taking me so well.”

You groan at his words and the vibrations traveling along his shaft have Chan growling with a harsh tug of your hair, causing you to sputter as his cock hit the back of your throat. You seek purchase in his hips as tears prick the corner of your eyes. You’re unrelenting nonetheless, circling your tongue around him before pulling away, hands now sliding up his thigh before gently gliding over his balls. As you slowly lick from the base of his shaft all the way up to the sensitive tip, Chan’s gaze shifts down as he catches a glimpse of your thighs rubbing together. He feels himself twitch, and immediately pulls you away from him.

“Don’t wanna come like this, I need to fuck you,” he rasps out.

You stand back up, legs wobbly, and fumble with the buttons of his shirt while he slides your dress down your shoulders. Your movements are messy and filled with urgency, your breaths quickening as you both want nothing more than to strip away any form of barrier between you. Piling up five years of yearning will do that.

As your impatience reaches its peak, you tear open the last remaining buttons of his shirt, your nails grazing his skin as you slide the fabric down his shoulders. A wave of goosebumps travels across Chan’s body, and his hands abandon the task of removing your dress in favor of tracing the curve of your ass before picking you up off the floor.

“First door on the right,” you tell him, your words answering his unspoken thoughts as if you could read his mind. Chan nods, your proximity making it impossible for him not to press his lips to yours, tongue sliding over your bottom lip before licking into your mouth with a low hum.

He collides with a wall, missing the entrance to your bedroom by a hair’s breadth, and you giggle against his lips. Chan smiles back. Nothing’s ever heavy with you.

He lowers you onto the bed gently, his body instinctively slotting between your spread legs the way he did so many times before. You soon also wrap your thighs around his waist as you always did, pulling him closer until his cock is pressed up against your clothed pussy.

“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, grinding your hips forward and eliciting a quiet moan from Chan’s lips as he hastily nods. With a tight grip on your waist, he flips you both effortlessly.

Promptly sitting up on his thighs, you finally rid yourself of the inconvenient fabric of your dress, followed by your bra, your nipples instantly hardening. Chan sits up, eyes transfixed on your chest as his calloused thumbs trace the nubs before his lips circle around one, sucking harshly. As you gently roll your hips, he can feel the way your soaked panties cling to his skin as your core presses up against his thigh.

Your fingers tangle in his hair with a whimper, pushing his face into your breasts as he bites the sensitive skin. His lips leave your nipples with a wet sound, then trailing kisses up the column of your neck until his gaze is locked on yours again. He was dying to mark you, bite and suck on your skin until it blossomed into a beautiful maroon — but he knew better. You weren’t twenty anymore, and you weren’t his; in no sense of the word.

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, eyes heavy with lust.

And he knows this is a terrible idea. This was exactly how he came to be a father.

But it’s not his mind that’s doing the thinking, and so he nods, his grip on your hips tightening as you pull your soaked panties to the side just enough to slide the swollen tip of his cock against your slick folds. Chan sucks in a breath, fighting a war against his own body not to come from this feeling alone. It wasn’t just how long it had been since he was with someone, it was you. It was all you. The effect you had always had on him having never faded, simply laying dormant until his body had you again.

Chan rests his forehead on yours as you slowly sink down on his length. His lips find your neck again, gently sucking the skin into his mouth as you slowly grind down on him, a whine falling from your lips and going straight to his cock. His hips buck up unwittingly, causing you to moan loudly in his ears. But your slow pace remains, and Chan knows he should savor this moment, but he wants nothing more than to fuck you into the mattress until he forgets every minor issue aggravating his brain.

Such as the fact that he knows you will leave his life again the second you find out he lied to you.

So his hands find your waist and he flips you down onto the mattress once more. His eyes bore into you as you suck in a breath.

“Fuck me,” you plead, hips grinding into his cock again. “I want it, please—”

Chan doesn’t waste another second, retreating only to plunge back harshly into your cunt. He moves with deep strokes, hips falling into an erratic rhythm, your nails digging into his back as your thighs clenched around his waist. All he can hear is static and your choked moans as he presses you into the mattress.

“Missed this so fucking much,” he groans against your ear. And finally succumbing to his desires, he bends down to suck and nibble on the delicate skin of your neck, mind too focused on how your walls squeeze around him to worry about marking you. He laps at the small bruises he leaves behind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you mewl.

You roll your hips, matching his rhythm, and Chan feels a familiar heat rise within him. He reaches down to glide small circles around your clit, your body jolting and squirming. He absentmindedly smiles against your skin.

After an entire night of pretending his life was the same as it was five years ago, fucking you required no acting.

“It’s too much, fuck,” you whimper, tugging him by the hair until your lips are crashing together in a sloppy kiss. Your walls tighten around him, body clenching as the tension finally snaps, your orgasm coursing through your shaking body as Chan growls into your parted lips.

He keeps fucking into you, until his hips meet yours one last time, and a low groan reverberates through the room. His cock twitches inside of you as his body stills, filling you with his warm release which leaked out of you and onto your sheets as he pulled out with a sigh.

Chan throws himself onto the mattress, labored breaths leaving his heavy lungs. He pulls you into his arms, and you melt into his embrace as if it were a habit. It’s as though he’s gone back in time, even if temporarily.

He feels like he’s simply a guy making love with the girl he adores in the familiar comfort of his dorm room again.

When the first rays of sunlight seeped into your room, Chan was already awake. He watched as you slept, eyelids fluttering and a small smile adorning your lips.

It was as if you were his, in every sense of the word.

Guilt.

That’s what Chan feels every time he sees Hyerin’s laughing face on his phone’s wallpaper when he’s out, entertaining the silly lie he crafted.

It’s been two months since you reconnected and you effortlessly slipped him back into your life. The reunion with his old friends was expected — but Chan dreaded it, regardless. He found that out of the nine people that once comprised their group, only five remained. He wasn’t the only one who had gone his own way.

But he was the only one who had done it in the worst way possible, carelessly ghosting every single one of them, hoping his existence gradually faded from their memories.

That made facing his once best friend frightening. Minho was the first friend he made on the very first day of university, when Chan walked into his dorm room only to find he had snuck his cat into the building.

They were roommates for two years, and best friends for four. Chan complained loudly when he was assigned a new roommate. Minho was silent as he watched his best friend turn his back on him with no explanation.

Minho initially ignored him entirely, and Chan doesn’t fault him. When his vibrant face turned cold upon seeing him walk into a bar, Chan knew he earned that the moment he decided to ignore his friend’s every text message and phone call. When Minho made backhanded remarks about how nice it felt to have him back in their group, he knew he deserved it for not answering the door the only time his friend came looking for him.

It takes a drunken argument leading to a fist colliding with Chan’s cheek for Minho to finally address him. It takes them being escorted out of the bar by security for them to finally have a conversation, tears and resentment flowing freely as they sat at a bus stop late at night. After that, their friendship returned to what it was before, as if they had never been apart even for a second.

Despite the years and the changes, Minho was still his best friend — which was why he was the only person he came clean to.

Hyerin loved Minho, especially his cats. Her new favorite pastime quickly became going over to his house to play with her new ‘friends’, as she called them. And Chan was overwhelmed with happiness to witness his best friend falling under his daughter’s spell — his house now containing its very own box filled with every toy Hyerin mentioned even once, his kitchen stocked with all her favorite foods, and his cats falling asleep beside her anytime they came over to visit.

It was as if he was watching his two worlds collide. His past and present, which he had separated out of a senseless fear, intertwined so effortlessly it made him feel stupid for ever thinking he needed to build this barrier. For assuming the people he loved so much would reject him.

Made him feel even worse for walking away in a futile attempt to protect his feelings, because it only resulted in more hurt.

After so much of his time spent wondering, Chan finally has the answer to his questions. Some of his friends did settle for an ordinary adult life, some already married and some focusing their energy solely on climbing the corporate ladder. Still, some remained relatively unchanged — much like you did.

His social life blossomed again after reconnecting with his old friends. However, he still refused to hire a nanny, too fearful to leave Hyerin to a stranger’s care, resulting in constantly having to come up with excuses when his parents aren’t able to babysit. He won’t deny that he often fabricated these lies purely because staying in with his daughter and watching Tangled now outweighs any appeal of noisy nightclubs.

Jisung remained his salvation whenever he wanted to spend the night at your place, with Chan slowly but surely running out of reasons as to why you can’t go to his apartment for a change. He hasn’t had the heart or the courage to tell you the entire truth yet, only owning up to his lie about his job after you understandably asked him to listen to his new music and he was put on the spot.

Ever since you walked back into his life, he finds himself weaving a web of little white lies that slowly chip away at his heart.

He’s at a small gathering for his friend’s birthday, listening to Minho all but eulogize his fiancee. They have been a couple since university, Chan playing the wingman and encouraging his friend to finally do something about his crush (mostly because he couldn’t handle any more of Minho’s whining before going to sleep). Despite what everyone around them surmised, they beat all the odds and statistics and stayed together even after university. Chan would be happier about that if he hadn’t bet money on them breaking up before graduation. He wonders if Hongjoong will ask for his twenty bucks now that they’re friends again.

“No, really, settling down with someone is so good,” Minho says after another shot of Soju, a silly smile etched onto his lips. “I thought I would hate it, y’know? Thought slapping such a significant title on our relationship would wear it down, but it’s the complete opposite. Ever since she proposed, it’s like we’re two love-struck nineteen-year-olds again.”

Chan smiles, saying they should drink to that purely because he hopes the sensation of alcohol burning his throat will numb his overwhelming jealousy. After congratulating Minho for the umpteenth time, he finds himself listening to yet another story about his relationship.

And he’s happy for Minho, just as much as he’s happy for Wonwoo for getting married last year. He couldn’t express the overwhelming joy he felt upon discovering these people, who once meant so much to him, had successfully navigated their way through life. But envy rears its ugly head every time he listens to one of their stories, because Chan’s direction in life seems to be a winding road. He’s a father, and his love for Hyerin is immeasurable, but he’s still actively lying about this side of him simply because he feels as if maybe he made the right choices in life at the worst possible time.

As he’s walking out of Hongjoong’s apartment with you later that night, he wraps an arm around your waist, a smile spreading across his face when you nestle closer to him. You two discuss Wonwoo’s marriage, with you talking about how beautiful the ceremony was, but ultimately scowling at the mere thought of getting married. Chan feels the corner of his heart crack at your words, but he laughs it off.

“Do you think he wants kids?” he wonders aloud.

He expects you to laugh at his sudden curiosity. He doesn’t expect you to dig at the fissure in his heart with your words, causing it to shatter completely.

“Gosh, it’d be so weird to see.” You cringe, snuggling deeper into his arms as a chilly breeze brushes against you two. “I like kids, but I’d never have them myself. Feel like it’d kinda ruin my life.”

Chan feels his grip on your waist loosen.

“Having kids doesn’t ruin your life,” he reasons. “You’re given the chance to care for something so precious, so important to this world…” he trails off, shaking his head and taking a step away from you. It feels as if exasperation has filled his entire being. “You look into their eyes and see yourself, and it’s— the love you feel when you first see them is so pure and earth-shattering that you can’t think of anything but how to make that tiny being only experience the good in the world. It doesn’t ruin your life.”

You eye him with confusion, cocking your head to the side and huffing out a laugh. “You talk like you know what that’s like. If you ever have kids one day, then you’ll know—”

“But I do know,” he’s yelling before he can stop himself, his footsteps coming to a halt. “I know because I have that. I have that and it’s the most precious thing in my life and yet I’ve been taking it for granted. And for what?”

He scoffs bitterly, his gaze fixing on your features; your flushed cheeks and slightly smudged lipstick, the way your puzzled eyes gleam under the moonlight. He shakes his head.

“For childish illusions. The illusion that I could go back in time if I pretended hard enough, the illusion that this romanticized idea I have of my early twenties was superior to the life I have now,” Chan lets out a heavy breath, averting his gaze to the pavement. “The illusion that I could ever have you.”

“So it’s my fault you chose to lie about being a dad?” You blurt out.

He doesn’t lift his head. He can’t, the burden of guilt and shame weighing too heavily on his shoulders for him to face you.

“It’s my fault. You were simply the catalyst.”

“What do you even mean?”

“I mean I’ve always felt this way,” he exasperates, finally lifting his head but keeping his gaze anywhere but on you. He’s a coward. “I’ve always felt like maybe I was too young to be a dad, too immature to fully understand the consequences of the choices I made. I don’t regret my daughter, but I certainly regret the timing, and this haunts me every day. Meeting you again just made these feelings worse because you represent everything about my past that I no longer have.”

You remain quiet for a beat, but it feels like an eternity as Chan is forced to endure the deafening ring of your silence.

When you finally speak, your voice is unsteady. “You know, that’s why I always figured it was for the best that you left.”

“What?” Chan turns his gaze toward your face at last, your words stomping on his scattered heart one last time. He expects anger, but sorrow has taken over your expression, one so heavy he doesn’t recall a single moment in the years he’s known you where he’s seen you like this.

“You were always like this, Chan. You might think you were a different person back then, but you said it yourself,” you shrug with a sullen chuckle. “It’s only an illusion.”

He hums, nodding his head as it dawns on him. “You were never gonna be mine, were you? No matter what I did. I lied to you because I thought you would never want someone like who I am today. But I guess that was all in vain, ‘cause I’ve always been like this.”

“You always talked about getting married, settling down, having kids.” As you run a hand through your hair, an exasperated sigh falls from your lips. “You went along with our bullshit, but even back then, you were always like the dad of our group. This has always been you, Chan, but that’s not a bad thing. Don’t think you need to change or lie about who you are ‘cause you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, but…”

He scoffs. “But?”

“But we’re too different. We’ve always been. We’re great together in every way but the way you want us to be — the way I would love for us to be as well,” you simply say, offering him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“And would it kill you if we tried? ‘Cause this unfulfilled hope has been killing me since I first fell in love with you.”

“What’s her name?” You simply ask, avoiding his question altogether. Chan furrows his brows. “Your daughter, what’s her name?”

He shifts on his feet. “Hyerin.”

“I hope she knows how lucky she is to have you as a dad.”

Chan shakes his head. “I’m far from the perfect father.”

“Good,” you state matter-of-factly. “Perfect wouldn’t be you.”

You fall into a much lighter silence, although it’s still far from comfortable. A swarm of questions fills Chan’s mind, but his words fade into silence and die on his lips.

He knows everything is over when you suck in a sharp breath, muttering, “I can’t be what you need. When love becomes too serious, I feel trapped and run away. You know what that’s like,” you trail off. “I know we loved each other back then, and I know I still love you now, but I think it’s my turn to walk away. I’m sorry, Chan.”

And just like that, he’s left to watch your figure slowly grow smaller and smaller as you fade into the dimly lit street. You don’t reprimand him for lying or question if he also loves you still. You don’t explain why you can’t make an effort, probably because you’re unsure of the answer yourself. It turns out you both remained unchanged.

And after all this time, it’s only then that Chan realizes you were always just as lost as he was.

Chan didn’t allow himself to think much about you since he watched you walk away that night. He missed you often, as he had done for so long before your last encounter, but he had long grown numb to that feeling.

In the two years he was apart from you for the second time, he learned that life isn’t black or white. He could be a father while also being his own person; a son, a friend, a boyfriend. He learned that prioritizing Hyerin didn’t mean neglecting himself, as that would negatively impact her as well. She couldn’t only know happiness if her father was always dripping with sadness.

He learned he doesn’t have to choose between who he is now and who he was at twenty years old; they were both him, with certain moments bringing out glimpses of one or the other.

Hyerin started elementary school and is blossoming into a caring little girl, no longer needing Chan to tie her pigtails in the morning or remind her to brush her teeth before bed. Although she still demands that they maintain their nightly routine of lying together until she falls asleep to the sound of his voice singing her favorite song.

During his first parent-teacher conference — after walking into the classroom fifteen minutes late — he’s stunned to see you sitting across from him yet again, a pencil holding up your ponytail the same way it did that night at the restaurant. He couldn’t help the smile that spread on his lips.

You were Hyerin’s teacher. He recalled picking her up after her first day of school and listening to her gush over the art teacher who was so pretty and nice, and talking about how she wanted to be like her when she grows up.

It felt as if you were destined to find each other every time one of you chose to walk away.

Your friendship picked up again slowly this time — no rushing into bed together and no rushing into long overdue serious conversations. They had already been avoided for years, anyway, they could wait a bit longer. This is exactly what you needed; patience. Chan had never had the patience to wait for you, while you never had the patience to understand your own feelings.

It’s been ten months now, and he’s yet again sitting before you. The teachers and parents converse around you both as you sit in silence. When you think no one is watching, you exchange glances, struggling to suppress the silly smiles that insist on spreading across your faces.

As people leave the room one by one after the meeting, Chan approaches you.

“You’re Bang Hyerin’s father, correct?” You speak with a grin.

“Correct.”

“She’s an amazing kid,” you tell him.

He smiles, shifting his gaze toward his feet before his eyes find yours again as you speak.

“We could grab a coffee this weekend.”

This time, there are further implications hidden in your request. You’re not asking as a friend, like you’ve been doing these past months. Some things are heavy with you now, and this is something he’s only recently come to find. He’s also come to find that he loves that change.

So he answers, “Sure. Tomorrow at three?”

“Then I’m your date for tomorrow,” you say with a giggle. “See you there, cutie.”

And Chan lets out a hearty laugh at that, which earns him a scolding look from the other teachers in the room.

He isn’t sure what will come of this. Maybe you two are better off as friends and all it will take is a couple of months to figure that out. Maybe time has changed you both more than he can understand, and you will finally be able to try something real after all these years of unfulfilled hopes and childish illusions.

Either way, Chan knows he won’t let go of you this time.

He wants you to be his, in any sense of the word.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie @vlctorriaa @yongbokkiesworld

#stray kids #bang chan smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan x you #stray kids smut #skz #bangchan smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan x you

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starryhyuck · 3 months

Text

pairing: enemiestolovers!yuta x afab!reader

words: 13.1k+

summary: yuta doesn’t care how adored you are. all he sees is a spoiled, narcissistic brat who has her daddy wrapped around her finger. hell must freeze over before he ever entertains the idea of being with you.

genre: smut, fluff, angst

warnings: reader is doyoung’s sister, reader calls her father daddy in the beginning but yuta becomes the real daddy, throat fucking, public sex, collaring, rough sex, pussy eating, squirting, spanking, lots of degradation, creampies, tiny bit of somnophilia

Since he was three years old, Nakamoto Yuta has always been told that he could never trust anyone but himself. Ironically, the words came from his mother, who he was supposed to trust above all.

His father was a businessman who dominated the industry, being both charming and captivating enough to earn the trust of many powerful people. However, his increasing rise in power also led to an increasing role of danger. Yuta had to start being escorted by security at public events, ensuring that the future of the family is established. He became isolated from the rest of the world except for school, where he eventually met a group of boys who made him feel whole.

His parents disapproved of the friendship, considering some of their fathers rivaled his own. He refused to succumb to their wishes, and to this day, it was the only battle he had ever won against his parents.

The only problem Yuta really has is you.

You’re Doyoung’s sister and the most spoiled girl he’s ever met in his life. He previously knew almost nothing about you since when they first met, Doyoung kept most of his personal life a secret. However, when you started attending university together, Yuta discovered your personality little by little and it crept under his skin.

It’s easy to sum up who you were — a rich girl who had her father wrapped around her finger.

Doyoung complained about you constantly after the rest of the guys had finally met you. Even post-graduation, you still found every opportunity to locate your brother’s group of friends and give him an irritating headache.

"Jesus, what are you wearing?"

Yuta observes as you blink your eyes innocently at Doyoung, staring down at your ensemble. You were wearing a crop top and a miniskirt that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

"It's called fashion, Doyoung. Try it sometime, seriously. I'm tired of you looking like a slob next to me at gala events."

The group is seated in one of the exorbitant steakhouses in the city, where they often frequent for an occasional chat. The owners of the restaurant are close family friends with Jaehyun’s parents, so any service worker helping them understood that discussions at the table were never to leave the ears of the building.

You slide into a vacant seat next to Taeyong, flagging down a waiter and ordering a strawberry margarita.

"Why are you here?" Doyoung questions in an agitated voice.

"Maybe she wants to see someone special," Donghyuck suggests, wiggling his eyebrows at you from across the table.

You pretend to vomit. Yuta snickers and Donghyuck glares at him.

"In your tiny dreams, Hyuck. I'm here because daddy wants us to all be together for dinner tonight. Apparently, he has a very special announcement," you smile mischievously.

Your brother raises an eyebrow. Yuta knows Doyoung’s father barely calls him to any important meetings, so this must be something big. "And what exactly is that?"

"It's obviously the announcement that he's chosen me as the heir to his company,” you say confidently.

At this, the whole table bursts into laughter. Yuta clutches his stomach when it begins to ache from the exhilaration.

"What?" You fume, eyes narrowing at the men before you.

"Babygirl, I really think you've got it all messed up in your head," Taeyong chuckles condescendingly.

You roll your eyes and flip your hair over your shoulder, and Yuta catches the scent of your perfume. It makes him slightly dizzy.

"I'm not wrong about anything, you losers. Do you seriously think you could run daddy's company, Doyoung?" You scoff, and your brother glares at you.

"What would you even know about business?" He challenges in response.

Yuta grins at the clear sibling rivalry. Doyoung would never dare to admit it, but he has always been slightly jealous of you. Ever since the two of you were younger, you surpass him in everything — grades, beauty, charm, and even networking connections. Your contribution to charity is constantly promoted in the tabloids, and you became the model for multiple designer companies, just so Doyoung could not turn a single inch without seeing his baby sister's face plastered on a billboard.

Your father adores you the most, pushing Doyoung to the side most of the time. Yuta knows it hurts his friend a lot on the inside, but Doyoung would never tell you about it. No matter how jealous he gets or how broken your relationship is, you still look up to your brother and care about his opinion and he knows that.

"I know plenty. Daddy always brings me to his work meetings, remember? I have all those stubborn businessmen ready to bend down and kiss my feet. I bet you can't say the same," you laugh, raising an eyebrow at him.

Doyoung opens his mouth to argue against the insult but another customer walking in steals your attention. Park Jinyoung enters in all his glory, and Yuta watches as your head spins around, a smile spreading across your face. Jinyoung’s parents owned a global technology company that was slowly gaining traction, allowing him to enter the elite circles of society.

"Jinyoung!" You call sweetly, eyelashes batting. You quickly lean closer to the table so Doyoung can clearly hear you. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to take care of personal matters. But I mean it, Doyoung, you have to be at dinner tonight."

You quickly leave with that remark, looping your arm through Jinyoung's and pulling him out of the restaurant with your margarita in hand.

“I hate her,” Doyoung grumbles when you’re finally out of eyesight.

“No, you don’t,” Jaehyun laughs, nudging him. “She just gets under your skin sometimes. That’s what siblings are supposed to do.”

“Are you nervous? Your dad’s never asked for a meeting like this before,” Taeyong brings up, analyzing Doyoung’s tense form.

Doyoung shrugs and tries to play it off. “A little, I guess. But there’s no point, my sister’s right. If anyone’s taking over the company, it’s her. My father never prepared me for anything and he prepared her for everything.”

Yuta rolls his eyes. “Come on, Doyoung. A spoiled rich girl like her? She could definitely charm some businessmen but she would let people walk all over her. She’ll never be respected with the reputation she has.”

You were well known as a rich socialite who dated around, and although your father allowed you to be by his side during important meetings, Yuta believes your reputation would be the cause of your downfall.

“A little harsh, Yuta,” Donghyuck frowns at his friend’s criticism.

“It’s true,” Yuta says with no remorse. “The corporate world is brutal like that and your sister’s just not cut out for it.”

Doyoung hums softly. “We’ll see.”

—

“I’m here!” You sing, slipping off your heels and handing your purse to one of the maids standing nearby. She informs you that your family’s already seated in the dining room.

You smile when you see your father sitting at the head of the table, and bounce over to greet him with a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, princess,” he beams.

You take the seat next to your father and across from Doyoung, who looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him.

“Hi, daddy. How was work today?”

“Very well, thank you, sweetheart. The merger with Lee Corporations is working out perfectly.”

You huff. “I wish you had picked a different company, daddy. You know how I don’t like Donghyuck.”

“Hey!” Doyoung interjects for his friend. “Hyuck’s a great guy.”

“Who flirts with your sister all the time,” your father reminds him, raising an eyebrow. “Not a very respectable man, Doyoung. I wish you would find someone else to occupy your time with.”

You smile in victory and Doyoung glares at you.

Your father clears his throat. “Anyways, I’m sure you’re both wondering why I called you here tonight. I have some good news and some bad news, depending on how you take it.”

You lean forward in anticipation, eyes sparkling at the thought of finally getting responsibilities in the company. Even though your father allows you to shadow him at work and gives you top secrets about your company rivals, he’s never given you any real tasks.

“The good news is that we’re opening a new branch in Osaka, very similar to the one we have here at home. Day-to-day operations will virtually be the same and all major decisions will still be handled by me. The bad news is that only one of you can run the division.”

You and Doyoung lock gazes, eyes both filled with determination.

“I can do it!”

Your father chuckles. “I’m glad you’re both willing. I haven’t made any decisions yet, but I want the both of you to start thinking more maturely about your future if you’re considering running this branch. Doyoung, you’ve barely been involved in company activities and you don’t have a good presence in the media. This is something I’d like you to focus on.”

“I’ve been doing both of those things, daddy, if you don’t remember,” you smile at him, watching your brother’s shoulders deflate.

“I do remember, princess,” your father chuckles. “And I have no doubt in my mind you would rule this company with an iron fist.” You giggle while Doyoung scoffs under his breath. “However, the company has received complaints from several of our partners about your behavior towards potential suitors.”

You swallow. Ever since you turned eighteen, you’ve had multiple men from big corporations try to take your hand in marriage. All of them have been political actions, of course, so you’ve never entertained any of their ideas.

“I heard Yang Hongseok proposed to you last month and you dumped a milkshake on him,” your father recalls, raising an eyebrow. “You humiliated him in front of the press.”

“Proposed?” Doyoung questions in shock. “She’s too young for that!”

“She’s already gotten many proposals, Doyoung,” your father corrects. “And, if I’m not mistaken, every single one of them has ended in public embarrassment for the other party.”

You smile nervously. “They’re just not good enough for me, daddy. What can I say?”

“No one will ever be good enough for you, princess. But that’s not the point. The point is that many of these engagements could be worthwhile for both you and the company. You have to see the bigger picture here.”

“So what?” You reply in a bratty tone, feeling frustrated. “Doyoung just has to show up to a few galas but I have to get married?”

“I didn’t say that,” your father frowns at your attitude. “I just think you should take these proposals a little more seriously. You haven’t gotten to know all of these boys, sweetheart.”

“That’s exactly why I said no to all of them. I don’t know them, daddy.”

Your father sighs. “I understand this is difficult for you, but until I see you start acting more mature about this, you and Doyoung will both be in the running for the leadership of this branch.”

Your eyes meet your brother’s across the table.

Game on.

—

Yuta is bored.

This party, hosted by Johnny, seems a little tame in comparison to last week’s. Yuta guesses it’s because of the negative media attention Johnny’s family has been receiving over his extravagant house parties. Although Johnny won’t say, Yuta knows his family chewed him out about it.

“Yuta!”

He smiles when he sees Seungcheol approaching him, and they exchange a handshake.

“How’ve you been? I can’t believe Johnny’s doing this after all of that insane press coverage.”

Yuta shrugs, glancing around at the small house party. Full of rich kids getting drunk and making mistakes.

“You know Johnny doesn’t care about that. It’s pretty dull tonight anyways.”

Seungcheol nods in agreement. “Did you see that Doyoung’s sister is here?”

Yuta barely notices your presence most of the time, so he’s not surprised that he didn’t see you walk in. You’re probably causing havoc with an outfit that’s more revealing than it should be, and it’s likely giving Doyoung a mild heart attack.

“Don’t care,” Yuta replies with disinterest.

Seungcheol laughs at his curt attitude. “Are you kidding me? She’s the hottest girl I’ve seen in ages. How could you not care?”

“She may have you fooled, but I know her well enough to recognize there’s nothing special under that facade.”

Seungcheol shrugs. “Suit yourself, but you clearly haven’t heard the big news.”

Yuta can’t deny that his interest is peaked.

“What news?”

Seungcheol smirks, leaning in to ensure no other guests would hear this tidbit of information.

“She’s looking for a serious relationship, apparently to ease her father’s concerns about her taking over the business. There’s a line out the door of guys begging for a spare minute of her time.”

And that’s when Yuta finally spots you across the room. Just as he pictured, you’re wearing a skimpy black dress that barely reaches the tops of your thighs. He thinks he even sees a guy trip over the even floor from staring at your legs too long. You’re giggling as Na Jaemin leans down to whisper something in your ear, hand wrapped around your waist like it’s another accessory. It isn’t long before his mouth is connected to yours, hand drifting lower and lower down your back.

“Have you seen my sister?”

Doyoung approaches Yuta and Seungcheol, slightly out of breath. His head turns in every direction in an attempt to locate you. He clearly hasn’t ventured to the other side of the room yet.

“Why?” Yuta asks since usually, Doyoung doesn’t care where you are at these parties and he sure as hell never searches for you. As long as your brother doesn’t have to endure hearing demeaning comments about your choice of dress, he lets you partake in whatever activities you like.

“Donghyuck is here with an engagement ring and he’s planning on causing a big scene. She can’t afford for our father to see her publicly reject him right now,” Doyoung sighs, looking more stressed as the minutes pass.

Yuta has always been confused by Doyoung’s soft spot for you. Even though you two are clearly competing for a chance to take over a major part of your father’s company, Doyoung still wanted to protect you.

“Listen,” Doyoung says frantically, watching as Donghyuck slowly slinks around the floor like a predator hunting its prey. “If you see her, could you please just get her out of eyesight? I’ll owe you guys big time.”

When Doyoung disappears into the kitchen, Seungcheol informs Yuta he’s going to grab another drink. Yuta’s left to stare at you and Jaemin, observing as Jaemin’s touch slowly gets rougher and more intimate.

Against his better judgment, Yuta finds himself walking to you, grasping your upper arm and pulling you away from the younger male.

“What the fuck, Yuta?” You hiss, not pleased in the slightest by his sudden appearance.

“Fuck off, Jaemin,” Yuta growls, and as much as Jaemin wants to object, he admits he’s slightly scared of Yuta’s threatening stare.

You watch pathetically as Jaemin gets further and further out of view, mixing into the crowd. You push at Yuta’s chest, ready to give him the beating of his life.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“Donghyuck’s going to propose to you,” he replies nonchalantly. “Better start running unless you want the news to spread to daddy.”

You curse under your breath and pray to the gods that a demon would come up and swallow Donghyuck whole. Your eyes widen when you catch him from the corner of your eye, a black velvet box tucked securely in his palm.

It’s in this moment that you execute the only plan that pops in your head. You press your back against the wall, forcefully grabbing the hem of Yuta’s shirt to pull him closer to you. He grunts in surprise when he finds himself being pressed against your front.

Your hand grips the back of his neck and you smash his lips to yours desperately.

Yuta would never publicly admit how much he enjoys kissing you. Your lips feel like velvet on his, and his frame cages you against the wall. His hand inches around your waist and he realizes he’s in the same position Jaemin was moments ago.

As sadistic as it sounds, Yuta loves seeing you being put in your place like this. Vulnerable underneath him, hands grabbing whatever piece of him they can find. You’re in the palm of his hand and it turns him on to no end.

In fact, the two of you are so enraptured with one another that you fail to hear the click of a camera.

—

A newspaper slams in front of you during breakfast the next day.

You tilt your head in confusion when you see you and Yuta on the front cover, looking like a scene straight out of a trashy teen romcom. Your eyes flicker upwards to catch the intense glower of your father.

“What is this?”

You put on your best expression of innocence. “Just me and Yuta having a little fun, daddy.”

“This isn’t fun, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “This is softcore porn of my daughter on the front page of every tabloid in the city.”

You glance back down at the photo and wince when you realize you’re clearly grinding against Yuta’s thigh with no care in the world.

You frown, lips jutting out into a pout. “I didn’t realize there would be cameras at the party, daddy. I’m sorry.”

He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m not mad at you, princess. Would I feel better if you weren’t exposing yourself in public like this? Of course. However, your brilliant mind has stumbled across an amazing opportunity.”

You raise an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

“The Nakamoto family are highly regarded and respected in Japan. Showing a united front with them to the public can work wonders for the business,” your father smiles deviously, and your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach at the implication.

“But daddy, I don’t even like Yuta. It was just a one time thing!”

He shakes his head at your pushback. “It doesn’t matter what your intentions were. I want you to make an acquaintance out of him, and ensure the press sees you two together in a flattering light. If you pull it off, the Osaka branch is yours, sweetheart. No questions asked.”

You huff and lean back in your chair, exasperated by the degrading task.

Across town, Yuta finds himself in a slightly different position.

“The Kim girl? Really, Yuta?”

His mother stares him down fiercely, her eyes expressing all the curses she wishes to throw at her son. She nearly hits him in the face when she launches the newspaper to his chest.

Yuta smirks at the sight of him pinning you down for the whole world to see.

“This isn’t funny, Yuta. Hide that ridiculous look on your face,” his mother scolds him. “I don’t want you to be associated with this girl. Her father is an imbecile for allowing her to be involved with the business in the first place — she’s nothing but a girl blinded by the glitz and glamour, and I don’t want that for you.”

Yuta rolls his eyes. As if his mother even cared about what’s best for him.

“Relax. We were just having fun. You know I’d never touch a spoiled brat like her.”

Especially not after you left him high and dry at that party.

His mother smiles. “Good. I don’t care what you have to do, but stay away from her. She’ll only ruin the Nakamoto image.”

And deep down, Yuta knows his mother is wrong. You’re the most beloved influential figure in the city and any family would kill to have you join them. Every man is praying that by some miracle, you choose them as your future husband. The Nakamoto family would be honored if you even threw them a glance.

But Yuta would never tell anyone that.

—

Doyoung is fuming the next time Yuta sees him. Taeyong has to hold him back when Yuta approaches their regular table at the restaurant.

“You disgusting creep! What the fuck were you doing with my sister?”

“Yeah!” Donghyuck chimes in, looking less than pleased. “You don’t even like her!”

“Calm down,” Yuta sighs, taking his seat and ignoring Doyoung’s death stare across the table. “I had to play into her game since someone decided he would propose to her in the middle of a fucking party.”

Donghyuck scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Besides, we didn’t do anything. We made out and she left when Hyuck disappeared.”

Jaehyun snickers from his spot next to Doyoung. “But you wanted to do more, didn’t you?”

Yuta doesn’t respond, keeping a poker face on. He refuses to let this group of ingrates discover that yes, he wanted a lot more from you that you weren’t willing to give.

“Imbeciles,” Doyoung mutters under his breath. “I told you all that none of you are allowed to touch my sister. You’re lucky I even let you come within three feet of her.”

“Are you kidding me?” Donghyuck bursts out again, eyebrows furrowed. “You complain about her all the time! You always say you wish someone would take her off your hands!”

“I didn’t mean you!”

“What are we talking about?”

You comfortably occupy the seat next to Taeyong, lips wrapped around a cherry lollipop. Yuta watches as you swirl the candy inside your mouth, tongue carefully savoring each lick. He wills his dick not to sport a hard-on in public right now.

The sight urges Doyoung to grab the sweet from your hand and crush it under his glass of whiskey.

“Hey!” You whine. “That was my last cherry!”

“Yeah! What the fuck, Doyoung!” Donghyuck complains, indiscreetly fixing the tent in his jeans.

“Can you be a normal human being for once?” Doyoung snarls at you, and Taeyong almost has to hold him back again. “What were you doing kissing Yuta like that for everyone to see? It’s like you have no dignity!”

“Haven’t gotten ass in a while, huh?” You inquire, giggling into the palm of your hand. Your brother’s face continues to bloom into a terrifying shade of red. “Relax. Yuta was helping me out after someone tried to pull that stunt last week.”

Donghyuck pouts. “So you would’ve said no?”

“I would have crushed that box between my fingers and stuffed it down your throat.”

“God, you’re so hot.”

Doyoung glares at Donghyuck once more.

“Anyways, Yuta, outside?” Your question is phrased more like a statement, and you don’t even offer him a chance to respond before you’re strutting out the door.

“Don’t marry her, please!” Donghyuck begs when Yuta gets up to follow you, clinging onto his wrist desperately. “I’ll do anything to have her. Don’t ruin this for me!”

“I’ll murder you right here, Hyuck,” Doyoung warns.

“I’d love to see you try.”

When Yuta finally shakes Donghyuck off and makes it out the door, he pauses when he sees you’ve suddenly become preoccupied by Lee Jeno in the alleyway. Jeno’s family owned one of the largest designer brands in the country, and Yuta recalls that you just became a spokesmodel for their new line. Jeno’s fingers are tracing your midriff, captivated by the sparkly butterfly chain hanging across your stomach.

“Why don’t you let me take you out this weekend, pretty girl? I’ll even let you choose the music this time.”

You giggle, batting your eyelashes up at him. “But you were so picky last time. How can I trust you again?”

He smirks. “You know I’ll take care of whatever you need, baby. You can trust me.”

Yuta clears his throat, feeling his chest swell with unanticipated rage. He doesn’t like seeing Jeno this close to you, talking to you like you’re a shiny new toy. That condescending language should only be reserved for Yuta.

You look back and catch Yuta’s stare, rolling your eyes at his presence. He clenches his fists angrily. You whisper something quietly in Jeno’s ear and he seems pleased, grinning ear to ear and kissing your cheek before he leaves.

“Did you make me come out here just to waste my time?”

You cross your arms over your chest, and Yuta tries his best not to focus on how the action pushes up your breasts in your tiny crop top.

“I brought you out here to make a proposition.”

He scoffs. “Thinking that I would want anything to do with you is laughable.”

“Oh, please. Don’t act like you didn’t have a hard-on when I was riding your thigh last week.”

His ears redden out of embarrassment. He has shamefully pictured that moment with you more times than he would ever admit. Lately, it’s the only vision that can get him off at night.

“It’s not my fault you were making a spectacle of yourself in public.”

You simply smile, mischievous in the way your hand slinks its way around his bicep, squeezing gently. “You liked it, didn’t you? Showing everyone I belonged to you? Putting the pretty Kim girl in her place?”

You take a step closer and his breath nearly hitches at how you’re inches away from his face. He thinks about your perfect lips puckered in a pout. You surely know better than anyone how to get a man to succumb to your wishes, and Yuta is no anomaly to your power.

You bat your eyelashes at him like he saw you doing for Jeno. “Why don’t you help me out, hm? Go on a few dates with me.”

Yuta freezes, shaking his head in an attempt to take himself out of your alluring reverie.

“Why the fuck would I ever do that?”

“Because I get to show daddy that I’m finally taking a man seriously, and you get to do whatever you want with me on date nights,” your voice lowers to a whisper, lips brushing by his. “I heard around the grapevine that you’re a little rough in the bedroom.” He swallows, recognizing that you have him in the palm of your hand with your sugary sweet voice. Your nails scratch down his torso until you’re cupping his growing length. He swears he’s nearly bursting out of his jeans. “I like it a little rough, and it’s just so hard these days to find a good man to please me. You’ll help me out, won’t you, Yuta?”

He tries to regain control of the situation, fingers curling around your scalp and pulling harshly. He grows even harder when all you do is smile at him, taking pleasure in the pain.

“You do this with everyone? Whore yourself out to climb up the company ranks?”

You grin. You both know that Yuta has already agreed with the way his hips are slowly grinding against the front of your skirt.

“Just you. I only need you, Yuta.”

Fuck, he’s in trouble.

—

Yuta thinks he’s reached the peak of ultimate desperation as he stands in front of your door.

Since last night, he’s been attempting to convince himself that he only agreed to your proposal because he hasn’t gotten his dick wet for quite a while. It also doesn’t help that you have been constantly infiltrating his dreams and every lewd fantasy his brain manages to conjure up.

You laid out the simple terms — he takes you out on public dates, ensuring many photos are taken for your father to see, and you agree to go back to his place and allow him to use your body as he pleases. Yuta might as well have a sign hanging above his head that reads pathetic loser with how easily he obliges.

When you swing open the door to your apartment, he notices that you’re half-dressed and slightly surprised by his presence.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” you say, pulling him in and locking the door.

He has to grasp at whatever ounce of self-control he has left, eyes raking over your exposed body. You’re adorned in nothing but a black, lacy lingerie set and a silk robe draped open. It’s like you’re trying to test him.

He balls his hands into fists. “Hurry up and get dressed. I already called the press and they’re on their way to the restaurant.”

You pout at his hostile tone, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt and blinking innocently at him. He grits his teeth as you press your body against his. It reminds Yuta of that night at Johnny’s, when you were wedged so perfectly between him and the wall, your lips chasing his in a frenzied play for power.

He’s never been so easily affected by someone before. Usually, it requires an abundance of work on the other person’s part for Yuta to even spare them a glance. When it comes to you, however, he can’t decide if he wants to fuck you until you beg him to stop or if he wants to argue with you until you’re both screaming.

Maybe a little bit of both.

“Are you sure you don’t want a little gift before we leave? You know, to thank you for doing so much for me,” you hum, fingers dancing across his stomach teasingly.

He grabs your waist tightly, scrunching up the fabric of your robe. He gives you a squeeze in warning.

“Get. Dressed.”

You smile at him before obeying, heading off to your room. You do so with a sway in your hips and he curses lowly, forcing himself to move his eyes away from your tempting figure. He glares down at the growing tent in his pants, willing it to go away.

You return to the living room in record time, and Yuta can see why it took you such a short time to change — you’re clothed in nothing but a lavender slip dress, and it’s clear you got rid of the skimpy underwear as he stares at your hardened nipples poking through.

“Don’t worry,” you giggle when you notice his gaze lingering on your chest. “I got rid of the panties too, just to make sure it was a matching set.”

“We’re leaving. Now.”

You’re nothing but a heap of laughter as Yuta pushes you into the backseat of his car. It’s grating to his ears, especially since he knows the root of your joy is his pain. He nearly growls at his driver, who flashes a raised eyebrow before taking off. He awkwardly shifts in his seat, still begging his erection to lower.

You grasp at the opportunity. “Need help?” You cup his bulge and he groans loudly. “You can fuck my throat if you’d like.”

He mentally calculates how much time you have left until you reach the restaurant before grunting at his driver.

“Take the long way.”

You grin when he pulls down his pants and releases his cock from the confines of his briefs. He can practically see your mouth water as you wrap a hand around his base, causing him to twitch in your palm. He praises the inventor of tinted windows, which allows him to expose you publicly like this.

“Mmm,” you hum happily, sucking on his reddened tip gently and lapping the spurts of white pumping out of him. He pushes your hair out of your face while you eagerly sink down on him. It isn’t until he hits the back of your throat that he offers his first thrust. You gag a little but squeeze his thigh, giving him the green light. He throws his head back and pushes his hips upwards, wanting to fuck your throat until it’s raw.

“Look at you. Fucking pathetic,” he hisses. You whimper around him at his degrading tone. “Whoring yourself out in front of me until I snap, hm? Is this what you wanted? For me to fuck your throat until you cry?”

You moan and he shuts his eyes when he realizes you’re actually crying, tears flowing down your face and mixing with the spit running down his cock. He pulls you up by your neck and allows you a few seconds to breathe before sending you down again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants. “Gonna cum. You better fucking swallow it all.”

He groans when he reaches his climax, holding you steady as he pumps his seed into your waiting mouth. He lets go of you when he’s finished, and you lick up the remaining mess on his cock.

“Good girl,” he praises, watching you clean him up. You beam at his approval and he smiles.

“W-We’ve arrived, sir.”

“Park the fucking car and get out,” he bites at the driver, not caring how much of a dick he’s being. His driver practically launches himself out of the car once it’s in park and you frown at Yuta.

“We’re going to miss our reservation.”

“They’ll make an exception for us. Now get face down so I can eat your pretty pussy.”

—

You can’t get enough of Yuta.

It’s only been a week since your agreement yet you’ve gone on a date every single night, ending with Yuta fucking you wherever and however he pleases. You didn’t lie when you said he could do whatever he wanted to you. Spending continuous nights together, however, prompts the tabloids to swerve into a frenzy of ridiculous headlines.

Nakamoto and Kim — The New Dynasty?

Yuta Nakamoto Seen Eyeing Engagement Rings!

Wedding on Horizon for Nakamoto and Kim Conglomerates

“Yuta!”

But you could care less about the suggestion of your engagement, especially when Yuta has you sprawled out underneath him, ramming into you from behind. Tonight, he was too impatient to finish dinner with you, allowing the cameramen their fair share of pictures before pulling you into the backseat of his father’s car. He instructs the driver to head to his apartment before he’s plowing into you until you cry.

You feel slightly bad for his driver, who hasn’t received a break from the constant fucking all week.

“Ungh, ungh, ungh,” you whimper at the force of his thrusts. It really was true that Yuta was rough in the bedroom, refusing to grant you even a second to breathe until he got his way. You had never felt so used and it aroused you to no end. You’ve had a higher sex drive this week than ever before.

“Why do you even bother to wear panties?” He growls down at you. “You know I hate it when you give me an obstacle.”

You haven’t dared to put on a pair of pants since you began your arrangement. He loves being able to take you anywhere he pleases, flipping up your skirt or rolling up your dress at any time of the night. You suppose he’s even grown weary of your underwear being in his way as well.

“It matches my dress, daddy!”

You never considered calling another man daddy because that term was used exclusively for your father since you were little. However, after discovering Yuta’s liking for the name, you haven’t addressed your father as daddy since then, transferring the moniker to Yuta.

“Who cares?” He laughs devilishly. “You know I’ll rip it off of you before the night ends anyways, sweetheart. And you’ve already made it abundantly clear that you’re all mine. Nobody else would be brave enough to sneak a peek at a pussy owned by me.”

You giggle at the thought of how large your presence has grown in the media. Your father was thoroughly pleased by your association with Yuta, even though Doyoung almost threw his friend off a bridge when he discovered the affair. Your father’s all but signed the Osaka branch over to you, and you can nearly taste victory. You’re certain if you offered yourself to Yuta during the daytime too, he would probably secure an engagement ring on your finger, which would make your father more elated.

Yuta flips you over, pressing your back against the car door and sliding down the window halfway.

“Yuta! They’ll see us!” You squeal, laughing at his carelessness.

“Let them watch then.”

He presses back into you, causing you to moan loudly. You catch the eyebrow raise of the driver through the rearview mirror and smile when you hear the chatter of people on the sidewalk outside, observing your lewd behavior. You pull Yuta down to press his lips against yours, tongues tangling together as he grips your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist. The angle allows him to push deeper into you, and your whines grow louder at the force of his thrusts.

At every red light, you see the flashes of cameras grow brighter and brighter to capture the sight of you and Yuta. You’re frankly too enraptured by him to care, reaching the edge of your climax. He recognizes your telltale signs, and you’re far too gone to be embarrassed by the squelching sounds your cunt makes when he bottoms out.

“Yeah? You gonna cum for daddy?”

You nod, chewing on your lower lip. You shriek when his teeth graze your neck, biting and sucking until he’s left a mark on you. You love how possessive Yuta is, how determined he is to prove to the world that you belong to nobody but him.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you topple over your peak, gripping his forearms as he continues his assault on your neck. It’s only after the ringing in your ears ceases that you realize you squirted all over his lower torso and the backseat.

“So fucking messy,” he grunts before following you, spilling his warm seed deep inside you.

You giggle when he collapses on top of you, fumbling around until he finds the button to roll the window back up.

“That’ll give them something to write about tomorrow,” you hum while he licks a stripe up your neck. The car comes to a screeching halt and the driver awkwardly announces your arrival to Yuta’s apartment.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he murmurs into your ear. “I’m not done with you yet.”

—

“Nakamoto Yuta, hm?”

You’re not surprised when another newspaper lands in front of you, but you are a little startled to see Johnny being the culprit behind it. You raise an eyebrow, pushing your laptop to the side as Johnny occupies the seat across from you in this tiny coffee shop.

Once again, you and Yuta are plastered on the front page. There are multiple blurry photos the paparazzi managed to catch of the two of you tangled together in the backseat. No questions need to be asked about what activity you both are engaged in — although the camera doesn’t capture everything, Yuta being shirtless and glimpses of your wild hair is enough to paint a solid picture.

Johnny chuckles dryly at the sight of the grin pulling at your lips.

“He’s not going to last for you in the long run.”

Your eyebrow raise grows higher. “And what makes you say that?”

He smirks. “Because I’m your friend and I know you well enough. You’ll get bored of him. He’s nowhere near your level.”

You fold up the newspaper and slide it across the table with a tantalizing smile.

“Just because I got bored of you, John, doesn’t mean I’ll get bored of Yuta.”

A fire blazes behind his eyes and you know you’ve struck a nerve. You’re not ashamed to acknowledge you’ve slept with most of the men in your elite social circle, considering they’re usually harmless flings and a way to build connections in the industry. Occasionally you’ll come across the type of man who wants more from you, a man who covets the allure of the Kim name.

At this moment, that man happened to be Johnny.

“I heard your father’s offered you a proposition for the Osaka branch,” he comments, taking a sip of his coffee to fake nonchalance.

“So you’ve been prying Doyoung for information?” You guess, playing into whatever game he wanted to lay out for you.

Johnny was a great guy, honestly, and he treated you well when you shared the same bed. But since Yuta took you on your first date a week ago, the thought of being with someone else hasn’t crossed your mind.

“The Nakamoto name — it’s strong now but no one sees them lasting in another decade. Their stocks are down and rumor is that their Tokyo branch is on the verge of collapse. Your father may play with the idea of them at the moment but he’ll soon learn they have much more to gain from your union with Yuta than you do.”

“Such splendid business talk,” you reply with a joyous lilt in your tone. It slightly amuses you that Johnny is so peeved by your newfound relationship. “One would think you’re trying to imply something.”

He leans forward, eyes a little more determined. “The Suh name has been around for decades and has already proven to be stable enough for the market. Our union would play a lot steadier than you and Yuta.”

“The Suh name?” You muse, swallowing a laugh threatening to climb up your throat. “The same Suh name that’s been tainted by their youngest son throwing reckless house parties until the police show up?”

He says your name with rehearsed casualty, though you both understand you know how to play a strategic discussion much better than he does. Your clever wit and the ability to see the argument from all angles is exactly why you’ve been in the running to take the company since you were born, and why Doyoung was lagging so far behind. In this conversation, Johnny is not your friend but simply a business mogul looking to get ahead.

“Come on. I know he’s not the one for you. You’ll miss the chase and you’ll hate the familiarity. I know you.”

“You don’t know shit.”

Yuta approaches the two of you, jaw clenched. Johnny straightens his posture, slightly embarrassed to have been caught talking behind his back. You beam at the sight of Yuta, tugging his hand and pulling him close to you. He continues to glower at the other man before you.

“Ah, so you date in the daytime now too?” Johnny chuckles, attempting to recover from his apparent blunder. “I don’t see any cameras around.”

“You can fuck off, Johnny. You and your ridiculous parties are the reason why you’re groveling at her feet,” Yuta hisses. “Handle your own shit first before tainting another family name with your mess.”

Johnny stands from his spot, causing the chair to squeak from the pressure on the wood flooring. Although Johnny has inches on Yuta, he knows better than to raise a challenge with the growing rate of Yuta’s temper.

Johnny offers one last nod towards you. “Good luck.”

Once he exits the coffee shop, Yuta’s mood sours. You pay no attention to his signs of irritation, pulling him down in the chair next to you and nearly climbing in his lap. You discovered a week ago that you throw your self-respect out the window whenever you see him.

“Daddy, you’re here,” you giggle into his ear, shutting down your laptop that was filled with boring spreadsheets and finance articles. “I missed you. You never come to see me during the day.”

It’s quite obvious that no other man has gotten to know your body the way Yuta has, bearing in mind that you’ve never held a steady boyfriend. Despite the intimacy on your part, Yuta still treats you indifferently during the day, ignoring you whenever you stop by the restaurant they hang out in and refusing to answer your texts until the sun sets. However, when date time commences, he does nothing but shower you in affection and insist it’s hard for him to stay away from you.

It’s very confusing, but you would take confusing and good sex over certainty and boring businessmen any day.

“What else did he say to you?” Yuta asks, brushing off your whines when he doesn’t hold you close.

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Let’s go back to your place,” you propose, already stuffing your laptop into your bag.

You nearly squeal in delight when he tugs on your wrist to take you out of the coffee shop. You watch as he tosses your bag to one of his security guards, telling them to take a stroll while he handles you. You’re skeptical about his behavior until he brings you into a nearby alleyway, shoving your front against the brick wall and flipping your skirt up.

“No panties?” Yuta hisses in your ear, sounding irritated.

“You told me not to!”

It hurts a little when he presses inside of you with no preparation. He takes it slow at first, kissing your shoulder and whispering harshly.

“I never want you to see him again, do you understand?” He questions in a demanding tone. His possessive side turns you on to no end and you nod eagerly, more arousal gushing out of your pussy.

“Whatever you say, daddy. But you know I never wanted to be with him, right? You’re the only one I want to be with.”

“Of course I fucking know that,” he grunts, steadily picking up pace. “I know that because no one else can fuck this pussy like I do. No one else has you wearing a collar with my name on it.”

You giggle at the mention of the collar Yuta had custom made for you days ago, with his name engraved on the little heart emblem dangling from the chain. Many would think it demeaning to wear it and have him attach a leash to you, pulling whenever you disobeyed, but you find it terribly arousing.

It doesn’t take long for you to orgasm, not with him muttering provocative fantasies in your ear and a tight grip around your waist to showcase that you’re his. He takes pity on you and shoots his release on the ground of the dirty alleyway, and you internally mourn the waste of cum that could be filling you up and dripping down your legs. You suppose it could be mortifying to someone else to have their pussy stuffed full of cum with no panties on in public, but you take gratification from it.

He quickly buttons himself back up as you turn around and readjust your skirt.

“So what happens when you get the Osaka branch?” He suddenly asks you, disregarding your inquisitive look.

You frown while fixing your hair through your phone camera. “What are you talking about?”

“The Osaka branch — the reason behind our deal. What happens when you sign the papers? We don’t have to be seen together afterwards, I assume?”

You shrug and tuck your phone away. Despite spending nearly everyday together for the past week, you still can’t get a read on Yuta’s feelings. You’ve taken multiple business classes in the past to overcome this type of difficult feat yet when you gaze into his eyes, you fail to understand the intentions behind his sudden line of interrogation.

“I guess so. We can still see each other in private, though,” you say with a flirty tone, squeezing his upper arm.

He doesn’t return your playful gesture. “See each other until you get married, that is.”

You tilt your head in confusion. Yuta has never brought up the topic of marriage before except to scoff at the headlines speculating the depth of your relationship.

“Um, yes, I suppose we could see each other until I marry.”

He nods and looks distantly off to the side, avoiding your stare.

“I’ll have my driver take you home. I have some business to take care of but I’ll come pick you up for dinner tonight.”

He spins on his heel at his last statement, leaving you alone in an alleyway, more confused than ever.

—

Weeks go by with no more discussions of marriage.

Yuta is on the way to your apartment as the two of you have been recently attending a handful of gala events together, skyrocketing your status as more serious to the public. Tonight was an event hosted by your father, and you hoped it would be the night he announces you as the new director of the Osaka branch.

It’s an important evening for you and Yuta wants nothing more than to be by your side. However, he dreads the moment you sign the Osaka contract, virtually releasing you from all of your duties to be seen with him.

Yuta always thought you were nothing but a spoiled brat until he finally cast aside his own assumptions. Often, during nights when you would sleep over, you both talked about the structure of your family's businesses and what future you envisioned to keep it thriving. It was in these discussions that Yuta really understands how intelligent you are. He used to think you only dreamed of sequined dresses and designer bags, but he can see what a fool he had been.

Your father seriously raised you for the business. After being friends with Doyoung for so long, Yuta knew he wasn’t privy to any of the company secrets or important business meetings. But he hadn’t known that you knew all of it — you possessed every secret that would put the business under, and no one could sweet talk their way out of a dreadful situation better than you. Every heir you’ve slept with usually spills a secret or two during late night pillow talk, and you bring the information back to your father, who uses it as leverage to elevate the company higher and higher until he gets what he wants.

Yuta admires you now more than anything, and that is why he is so afraid to lose you.

Along with the sex being the best he’s ever had, you are truly a magnetic being he can’t separate from. He likes you more than he’s ever liked anyone else, and the idea of you marrying someone other than him terrifies him to his core. You started spending your mornings together instead of simply meeting at night, which was something Yuta tried to prevent for a while in fear of growing too attached to you. It seems far too late to reverse history now, seeing as you have been joined at the hip for weeks.

When he knocks on your apartment door, you swing it open with a glimmering smile painted on your face. He tries to ignore the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“Hi, daddy,” you greet with a giggle, kissing him gently and pulling him inside. “What took you so long?”

He watches you cross the living room in search of your other earring and he chuckles.

“Can’t last a second without me?”

You laugh and walk back over as soon as you’ve got your bearings. You kiss him again.

“Don’t get such a big head. I was just wondering when you lost all your manners since it’s impolite to keep someone waiting for you.”

“I like this dress,” he changes the topic, fingers gripping your hips and squeezing roughly. You’ve gone for a simple floor-length red number, one that properly showcases your curves.

“Yeah?” You question, fingers curling around the nape of his neck and tugging gently. “I thought it would look really good with your collar.”

He growls. “Don’t tempt me. Get in the car and let’s go.”

The gala is in full swing when you both arrive, hands locked together as you smile and wave at the flashing cameras. Yuta keeps you close to him when you finally enter the grand ballroom. People immediately flock towards you, desperate to get a chance to chat with the season’s hottest new couple.

Doyoung finds a way to mow through them, approaching you with a bored look. “Congratulations,” he says with a curt tone.

You grin and pinch his cheek. “Aw, don’t be so sad, dear brother. I convinced father to let you shadow him at the headquarters here.”

Doyoung narrows his eyes at the demeaning task but says nothing else to you. Despite his numerous attempts to get his name out in the media, the only question people wanted to know was what designer his sister planned on working with next. Doyoung decided to accept his defeat with grace instead of humiliating himself by taking interviews solely about you.

His stare shifts to Yuta, cold and unforgiving. Doyoung still hasn’t forgotten waking up one morning to the sight of his friend fucking his sister in the back of a car for the whole world to see.

When he turns and walks away without speaking a word to Yuta, you scoff. “What a diva.”

You continue to address the bombardment of excited greetings from fellow guests. By the time you’ve finished a round on the floor, Yuta’s social battery has depleted significantly. With one look at your beaming face, however, his exhaustion spins into adoration.

“I’m nervous,” you whine into his ear, gripping his hand for dear life. “What if they don’t want me?”

“Then they’re idiots who deserve to burn alive.”

You laugh and press a kiss to his cheek. Yuta tries to quell the butterflies swarming his stomach.

“You can burn them for me, daddy.”

The room is silenced when your father steps up to the microphone on stage. You clutch Yuta’s hand tightly and he returns the gesture, afraid of letting you go.

Your father raises his champagne glass and chuckles. “Welcome, everyone. I am thrilled to see so many familiar faces here tonight. As many of you know, Kim Enterprises is looking to branch out and expand our thriving business as we celebrate the continuous growth of our company. And it is my honor to announce the opening of our Osaka branch, which will be spearheaded by my lovely daughter!”

Applause fills the room and all eyes turn to you. You bask in the spotlight, radiating pure joy. Yuta can’t help himself as he leans over to press a kiss to your lips proudly. You return it with as much vigor, giggling and gripping his hand happily.

He catches the sight of your father grinning down at you two in approval. Your father beckons you forward to join him on stage and offer a speech of your own. You squeeze Yuta’s hand one last time before letting go, taking his heart with you.

“Thank you for such a warm reception,” you say cheerfully, extending your champagne flute to the crowd. Yuta catches sight of Doyoung near the stage, who is trying his best to conceal his smile. “I am honored and grateful that my father has chosen me as the new director of this branch, and I will carry out my duties faithfully. I want to thank my brother, who has always allowed me to shine since we were younger and has never hesitated to be there for me.” The audience claps at the mention, and Yuta can tell Doyoung is trying to hold back tears. “And I also want to thank my devoted partner, Nakamoto Yuta, who has become my number one support system these past few weeks.”

You blow a kiss to Yuta, who fails to contain his grin. The audience claps even louder at the mention of your lover, with whispers filling the room about how serious the two of you are.

You finish your speech with as much grace as everyone expects of you, giving your father a kiss on the cheek before he whisks you away to introduce you to important members on the board of directors.

Yuta locates the nearest balcony to catch some fresh air, huffing to himself as he leans over the railing. The silence allows his mind to wander, filled with visions of you eagerly signing the contract to your future. Your father is likely strategizing the next best suitor for you, pushing all thoughts of Yuta to the side.

He can feel the clock ticking away on the time he has left with you.

“You really like her.”

He jumps at the sound of Doyoung’s voice and turns to see his friend with an eyebrow raised.

Yuta coughs awkwardly. “I thought you weren’t talking to me.”

“And I thought you said my sister will never be respected with the reputation she has. That she’s just not cut out for the corporate world,” Doyoung recalls with a knowing smirk.

Yuta scratches the back of his neck. “I was a dick about that.”

“But you like her,” Doyoung states the obvious, joining Yuta’s side by the railing.

“I-I don’t know. We’re supposed to be temporary, and I think that’s all she wants it to be.”

It’s the first time Yuta is voicing any of these thoughts aloud, and the way he’s so affected by the idea of you walking away from him rattles his brain.

“Well, if I know my sister, I know she’s never smiled at anyone like the way she smiles at you. And I know you, and you’ve never volunteered yourself to be willing eye candy at a boring event like this.”

Yuta sighs, wishing he had snagged a good bottle of rum before he came outside. “What am I going to do, Doyoung?”

“Not my place to say,” Doyoung shrugs like the asshole he is. Yuta is very aware his friend is taking a small sense of pleasure in his misery. “Just please, no more fucking in the backseat of cars. Your driver has been gossiping with Taeyong’s about your active sex life and he won’t stop torturing me with the details.”

“Front seats are okay?”

Doyoung’s seconds away from punching him when you run outside, throwing your arms around Yuta’s neck while his hands instinctively slide around your waist.

“Let’s go home, daddy. My feet hurt and I want to give you a good blowie.”

“I’m right here.”

You glance to the side and raise an eyebrow at your brother. All of the sentimental thank yous from earlier are long forgotten.

“Feel free to leave, no one’s stopping you.”

He grumbles at you but does as instructed, heading back inside. You smile when the two of you are alone, pressing a kiss to Yuta’s lips.

“Are you sure you want to go?” He treads carefully. “I’m certain people will notice the guest of honor has gone missing.”

“Who cares?” You scoff, pulling him closer to you. “I just want to curl up with my boyfriend and wear his pretty collar around my neck.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever addressed Yuta as your boyfriend, and he’s not sure that you’ve realized you let the name slip. He kisses you regardless, and sweeps you away in his car. You’re on top of him before he can get a word in, kissing down the column of his throat.

You hum. “I wish you had fucked me before we left, daddy. I’ve been dripping since I saw you.”

“Yeah? You were being a bad girl in front of all those people, waiting to choke on my cock?”

You pull back to respond, but your head tilts in confusion when you catch a glimpse at his gloomy expression. You cup his cheek gently.

“What’s wrong?”

He fails to realize that you can read him like an open book. You look at him with worry, no longer grinding on him like a cat in heat.

“Nothing,” he replies with what he hopes is a convincing smile. “I’m just so proud of you.”

“Liar,” you whisper, pressing a softer kiss to his lips. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m just, um, I’m just not in the mood tonight.”

“Oh,” you say with astonishment, and he can’t blame you. Until this moment, Yuta has never turned down your advances. You awkwardly shuffle off of his lap.

He swallows nervously. “But I’d still like it if you spent the night. You know, only if you want to.” He’s never seen you look so shocked in your life and he immediately takes it as a bad sign. “Fuck, sorry- Just forget I said anything-“

“No!” You squeak, interrupting his rambling. He doesn’t miss the constant back and forth of his driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror as he watches the two of you finally communicate in something other than dirty talk. “I mean, of course I would like to stay over. We don’t always have to fuck for me to be with you.”

“Yeah?” He says, eyes hopeful.

You smile and lean over to kiss him. “Yeah.”

—

Yuta is a strange creature.

Ever since the night your father announced the launch of the Osaka branch, you feel like Yuta has completely changed his personality from a sex-crazed monster to a loving and doting partner. Oh yes, you two definitely still fuck daily but it’s somehow shifted into sweet, gentle sessions. Instead of bending you over the kitchen table without question, he gently turns you on your side first thing in the morning and presses slowly into you. He also kisses you a lot more when you’re together, and holds your hand whenever you step out in the public eye.

You’re surely not complaining about his behavior, but you are mildly curious about what exactly spurred this on. As far as you know, he thinks you’re a spoiled rich girl who doesn’t deserve everything handed to her. But lately when you’ve been discussing ideas about how to run the Osaka branch, he’s completely attentive and praises you for your progressive thoughts.

Thinking about his changing behavior for too long gives you a headache.

“Do you want to order in tonight? I’m too lazy to cook,” Yuta asks as he fights through a yawn, scrolling through his phone mindlessly while he sits cross-legged on his living room couch.

You’re pulling one of his old shirts over your head since it’s become your new form of pajamas, along with a comfortable pair of panties. You walk out of his bedroom and join him by sitting on his lap.

“Takeout sounds good,” you nod in agreement. He hums and kisses your cheek before checking for available dinner options. You contemplate approaching the topic of his newfound affection, fumbling around with his shirt while you think. “Hey, Yuta?”

“Yeah, baby?” He replies, focus still directed at his phone.

“Do you- Do you not like having sex with me anymore?”

He completely freezes, gathering himself before turning off his phone. He frowns as he looks over at you.

“What the fuck are you talking about? We just had sex in the shower an hour ago.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, but now you just treat me like I’m some porcelain doll that’s about to break! I’ve never seen you like this before.”

He sighs and gently nudges you off of his lap. When he stands and starts to pace around the coffee table, you begin to grow worried. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought this up, especially when you see the distressed expression haunting his face.

“Yuta-“

“What are we going to do when you move to Osaka?”

It’s a topic neither of you have broached. You’re supposed to fly out in two weeks to spearhead the launch and oversee all of the new changes. You brought it up to Yuta in passing over a month ago, but you haven’t talked about it since then.

“I-I don’t know,” you say honestly, starting to feel like a child being scolded by their parent. “I thought you would come with me.”

His shoulders relax slightly. “You did?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, feeling smaller than ever. “Do you not want to?”

He kneels before you, taking your hands in his and offering you a solemn look.

“I do, baby, you know I do,” he sighs. “But I don’t want to go if your father just plans to replace me in a couple of months.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Why would he replace you?”

He looks equally as confused. “Because of our deal? I’m not as valuable to him now since you already signed the contract.”

“Who cares about him?” You hiss, nearly glaring at Yuta. “You’re my boyfriend, I get the final say if you stay or if you go.”

His expression crumbles and you can tell that although you assumed you had been dating for months now, passing the line between casual to serious, he had not been on the same page.

“So you meant it then? That night of the gala — you meant it when you called me your boyfriend?”

“Duh,” you reply as if he’s grown two heads. “I’ve been seeing you exclusively, of course you’re my boyfriend. I don’t just let anyone collar me and hold my hand in public. We haven’t even called the press to take photos of us in weeks.”

He’s kissing you before you realize it, hands cupping your cheeks as he pins you against the couch. You moan into his mouth, feeling his hardened length press against your belly.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” he says through a hoarse whisper. “I’ve been treating you like fine china because I thought you were going to dump me.”

“Why?” You pout, suddenly feeling whiny. “I like you and I like it when you throw me around. I don’t want anyone else to use me like you do.”

“Yeah? You mean it, baby?”

You nod and start to feel him manhandle your body until you’re lying on the armrest of the couch. He shoots you a devious look as he hovers over you, slowly slinking down your form. Your breath hitches when his thumbs loop around the sides of your panties, pulling them down your legs and smirking when the fabric clings to your core from your arousal.

“Daddy,” you whimper. “Don’t tease.”

He presses a kiss to your inner thigh and flings your underwear across the room. His tongue runs through your folds before he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking gently. You moan and tangle your hands through his hair. His eyes stay focused solely on you, staring at you as he laps at your cunt. One of his fingers prods at your entrance before pushing in, and you’re almost embarrassed by the squelching sound filling the room. He brings his tongue to your clit again, flicking at the nub.

You can’t help yourself when you start grinding down on him as he presses another digit inside of you. You throw your head back, overtaken by the sensation of him. His nose bumps against you as you messily ride his face.

“D-Daddy- O-Oh fuck, daddy-“

A wail rips from your throat when your pussy gushes, squirting all over Yuta’s face and fingers. You hold him close as he drinks in the remnants of your climax and push him away when it starts getting too overwhelming for you.

He licks his lips in an obscene manner, grinning to himself while you struggle to regain your breath. “Poor baby,” he mocks you, clicking his tongue. “Wants daddy to be rough with her but can’t handle the pressure.”

You don’t even notice he’s left the couch for a short period, blinking away the tears springing up in your eyes at the waves of pleasure still coursing through your veins. Yuta returns with your collar dangling in his hand and you perk up at the sight. He hasn’t used it with you since the night of the gala, and you’re desperate to feel it tugging at your neck. You eagerly sit up and bare your throat to him.

“Good girl,” he praises, snapping the collar tight and hooking his leash around it.

You yelp when he yanks you forward and off the couch. On your knees, you shamefully follow him into his bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed, peering down at you as you kneel in front of him, your legs tucked neatly below you. He pulls at the leash until you whine, blinking virtuously up at him.

“You’d never do this for someone else, would you? All for me?” He clarifies and you nod fervently, keeping your hands at your side diligently. He strokes your cheek gently and you preen at his touch. “That’s right. You’re mine, baby, and I never want you to look at anyone else the way you look at me, do you understand?”

You nod again and he grins. He leans back and pats his lap, causing you to scramble as you climb on top of him. You straddle his hips, whimpering a little when you feel his clothed length poking at your core.

“Want my cock, baby?”

“Yes please, daddy!”

“Go ahead and take it then,” he says, watching hesitation take over your form.

“B-But you always do all the work, daddy.”

“I know, baby, and I’ve spoiled you way too much. Maybe if you can prove to me you’ve earned it, I’ll be as rough with you as you’ve been craving.”

You frown at his words but you’re not one to back down from a challenge. You pull his cock out, biting your lip at the sight of his leaking tip. He feels heavy in your hand as you line him up against your entrance. He tugs at the leash when you take too long and you cry before finally sinking down on him. A shudder runs through you, still sensitive after your last orgasm.

Yuta is usually the one to set the pace so you struggle to recreate it, whining when you finally take all of him and begin to move. He says nothing as he observes the clear strain this takes on you, your thighs already starting to ache. You ride him as best as you can, twisting your hips in a frenzy while you search for some sort of coordinated rhythm. You hear Yuta chuckle dryly but you ignore him, mind set on proving him wrong.

“My poor girl,” he murmurs in a degrading tone. “Need some help?”

You shake your head even though you’re craving for him to fill you as he normally does, hitting all of the right spots that make you unravel. Tears begin to fall as you press down on him in desperation. You give in, so miserable by your own pathetic attempts.

“Daddy, I can’t-“

“I know, sweet girl,” he coos at you, pulling at your leash until he adjusts you face down on the bed. You mewl when his cock slips out of you, and his hand presses down on the curve of your spine until your ass is perched perfectly for him. His hand kneads at your flesh, cock rubbing through your folds teasingly. “Look at you, can barely do anything for yourself. Such a useless little whore.”

“Daddy, daddy,” you chant, head filled with nothing but Yuta.

You feel complete when he drives the tip inside of you but whine when he pulls it back out.

“Don’t think you deserve it,” he mumbles, spanking you roughly. You whimper as your body lurches forward from the impact. “Spent so long thinking about you, you know? Wondered how I could fall for a spoiled princess like you. Wanted nothing but for you to call me your boyfriend and let me fuck your pretty little throat.”

“I want that too, daddy.” Your picture perfect future includes waking up by Yuta’s side, engaging in a morning quickie, eating meals together, and shopping all day with a few blowjobs in between. You blink away the tears threatening to spill over your eyelids from the overstimulation. “Please, please daddy. I’ll be a good girl for you, I promise. I won’t let anyone else fuck my pussy but you.”

He wraps a steady hand around your leash before putting you out of your misery, pushing his cock through your folds. You moan, head thrown back as Yuta tugs at your leash with every thrust of his hips. It’s exactly what you’ve been missing — the emptiness being replaced with his swelling member stretching your tight cunt around him. The collar makes it hard for you to inhale but you prefer it this way, offering your body in his hands for him to use as he pleases.

“I love you,” he suddenly grunts when his cock angles just right, rubbing against your walls and nudging at your sweet spot. You sob, feeling your orgasm building in your stomach. “I won’t ever love anyone else but you, my sweet girl.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when your climax hits, spurting around his cock as it drips down onto the sheets. “Fuck, you squirted again? Did you really miss me being rough with you?”

You can barely form a coherent word while he releases his hold on the leash, causing you to collapse onto his pillow like a lifeless doll. You begin to fade in and out of consciousness, but you manage to utter, “I love you too, daddy,” before completely falling into darkness.

When your eyes flutter open again, you’re not entirely certain how much time has passed. Your neck is free from the collar, allowing you room to breathe. Yuta’s body is pressed against yours as you now lay on your back. His cock is still seated warmly inside you and he’s slowly pumping more gentle thrusts. The bedsheets are completely soaked with the evidence of your orgasm.

He hasn’t noticed you’ve awoken again, eyes shut tight and face buried in your neck. He’s groaning lowly, trying not to be too loud.

“Yuta?” You whisper, your voice hoarse and scratchy from all of the screaming. Your fingers brush through the strands of his hair as he looks up at you, smiling softly.

“Hi, baby. Got me worried there for a second.”

“I’m good,” you reassure, and he presses his lips to yours. “Just want your cum.”

He rests his forehead on top of yours, the mood shifting to something more intimate and loving. You never imagined you would be in this position, with Yuta of all people. You always believed you would marry some stuck-up businessman who had no care for your thoughts and feelings, and you became content with the idea over the years due to the overall positive sacrifice it would bring the company. You’ve been raised to think of the business first, but now you see that you can get the best of both worlds.

“I love you,” he repeats, murmuring it quietly.

You swear your heart grows three sizes. “I love you too.”

He grunts when his coil unravels, shooting strands of white into you, painting you to stake his claim. When he gets his bearings together, you both erupt in a heap of laughter. You feel warm all over, like your life is definitively joyous. No one could take this feeling from you.

He rubs his thumb over your ring finger, gazing at the empty spot with a glint of mischief in his eye.

“We should get you sized as soon as we arrive in Osaka,” he says with conviction.

You giggle and pull him down for another kiss.

“Just make sure you get me a big one, okay?”

—

“This is disgusting.”

You chortle when Yuta peppers your neck in a handful of kisses, pulling you closer by the back of your thighs. You feel like a princess sitting on his lap with your engagement ring sitting heavy on your finger. It would all be perfect, except for the fact that you’re surrounded by his friends at their regular table in the steakhouse. The blatant public affection is not completely your fault — who can blame two lovebirds who just got engaged?

It’s only been a few days since Yuta formally proposed. The first thing you did was fly straight from Osaka back to Seoul, rejoicing in the happy news with your friends and family. Your father was overjoyed, openly weeping when he saw how happy you were. Yuta’s mother kept her lips shut tight when you shared the news, clearly expressing disappointment but Yuta displayed no signs of caring for her approval. Since you gained leadership of the Osaka branch, you have been actively working with Yuta’s father to arrange a merger between your businesses. Yuta confessed to you one night that his family’s company was slowly going under, and there was no way you could allow your fiancé to be desolate and poor, could you? His mother hasn’t uttered a bad word about you since then.

Doyoung can feel the bile climbing up his throat at the sight of his sister all loved up with his friend. Donghyuck is pouting in his seat, arms crossed over his chest like a toddler.

“There are others who have to witness this, you know,” Jaehyun says with a smirk dancing across his lips in amusement.

“I can’t believe this!” Donghyuck exclaims incredulously. “You were slut shaming her less than a year ago!”

You coo at him. “Don’t get so upset, Hyuck. You knew you never had a chance.”

He narrows his eyes at you before childishly twisting in his seat until his back is turned to you. Yuta chuckles in your ear, tilting your head towards him so he can kiss you again.

The table collectively groans. “There’s no way you both traveled back from Osaka just to do this,” Taeyong sighs. “Isn’t this supposed to be a party for all of us?”

You part from Yuta and glance over at Taeyong.

“It is a party, but I wasn’t expecting you all to be losers and not show up with dates,” you bite back. You can feel Yuta grinning into your neck at your brazen attitude. Now that he wasn’t on the receiving end of it, he loved it when you got snippy with others and put them in their place.

“Maybe we should go hang out at Johnny’s,” Jaehyun suggests, tired of watching you and Yuta grope each other. “He’s throwing another party at his house tonight.”

“No Johnny,” Yuta says with a stern glare. His friends remain confused while you giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek at his possessive nature.

“Johnny’s not going to take me from you, daddy.”

“Alright, I’ve had enough,” Doyoung grunts with displeasure, standing from his seat and throwing a few bills down on the table. “Let’s go. I can’t stand to watch this any longer and my ears are already bleeding.”

The group is quick to obey, offering a few more lazy congratulations before exiting the restaurant. Doyoung shoots one last glance towards Yuta, eyes narrowed.

“If you ever make her cry or call her a whore again, I’ll fucking shred you to pieces.”

Yuta salutes him and Doyoung rolls his eyes, leaving you both to your own bubble of gooey affection. You smile and stroke Yuta’s cheek gently.

“Don’t listen to him, daddy. You can still make me cry and call me a whore in bed.”

“You know I wouldn’t have it any other way, sweet girl.”

#nct smut #yuta #yuta smut

1K notes · View notes

cyberjam · 1 year

Text

E!42 MILES DATING A SHY!SOFT READER . . . ☆

warnings - black fem!reader in mind but you can imagine it however you'd like, miles having a soft spot for you, pink coquette vibes from reader, profanity, slightly suggestive.

word count - 2.2k | lowercase intended.

main masterlist | proof read?: kinda😭

song rec for fic?: yo love - from "queen and slim: the soundtrack - vince staples, 6lack, mereba <3

ᘏ⑅ᘏ

. . HOW YOU FIRST MET . .

ఇ . . . you two were assigned as partners for a science project that would play a big part in your final grade. you knew of each other but never fully interacted until now.

ఇ . . . miles knew you as quiet, only speaking when spoken to. you were an approachable person with a warm smile. you carried yourself well, and treated others kindly, even if they were undeserving. he was entranced by you to say the least. with how things were currently going in new york, he was surprised that the city hadn't dimmed your light. miles wanted to know more about you and this project gave him the perfect opportunity to do so.

ఇ . . . you knew of miles as well. he had the reputation of being an unapproachable person. easily intimidating others without trying, and keeping his circle of people small. you took a small interest in him as well. you'd catch yourself glancing at him every now and then, trying to break down his character. he didn't seem as mean as everyone claimed but now was finally your chance to see for yourself.

ఇ . . . that project was only the beginning of your and miles' relationship.

ᘏ⑅ᘏ

. . CRUSHING STAGE . .

ఇ . . . miles protectiveness increases the more your relationship grows. he'll cut into situations and defend you before you can fully form a thought. he never hesitates to step in-front of you as a human-shield and tell someone off with a simple phrase.

"ay, watch yo mouth." | "huh? repeat yo'self." | "i know you not talkin'-"

ఇ . . . he starts eating lunch with you. his friends get on him for being a simp but he brushes it off every-time. he enjoys the convos you two have during lunch and would rather sit next to you than a rowdy group of boys who use the lunch food as science experiments.

ఇ . . . he seeks you out. during school, after school, on his nightly patrols, etc. without even fully knowing it himself, miles is always looking for you no matter where he is. he just naturally gravitates towards you. you bring something to miles life that he hasn't had in a long time. peace.

ఇ . . . let's you mess with his hair. when he's over your place he'll let you put your cute baby pink hair clips in his braids and even tie in some hair bo-bo's at the end of them. but only if you take them out as soon as you're done and don't take any pictures. (you still take pictures)

ఇ . . . let's you draw on him. you can't remember when it exactly started but it's became a routine for you to doodle and write on his hands in every class you two share. he'll return the favor, if you ask nicely. he copies whatever drawing you did on his hand to yours so you'd be matching. (he dreams of getting matching tattoos with you.) <3

ఇ . . . scares classmates away. whether it be a glare from across the room or an arm slung around your shoulders, miles is always scaring your classmates away. even if they show the smallest romantic interest in you.

ఇ . . . maintains eye contact. he's always looking for your eyes and trying to remain in contact with them when you talk. he just loves staring into your pretty doe eyes while you ramble about something you like.

ఇ . . . nicknames. miles doesn't want to scare you off by being too forward, so he'll limit his nicknames. the ones he does call you while crushing on you are ma and princesa.

ఇ . . . passes notes in class. he's a bit of a "model student" in class (not talking back, not interrupting or disrespecting classmates, turning in his work early on time. he just wants to be left alone lmao) but he's more than willing to pass notes with you throughout the entire period. you'll catch him up on the newest gossip and he'd update you on the stuff him and his homeboys get into.

ఇ . . . he'll help you study. if you don't know spanish or you're just a struggling student, he'll teach you everything you're having a hard time with at a comfortable pace. he'll quiz you every once in awhile just to make sure you fully understand and don't feel behind in anything. if you've shown a significant amount of improvement he'll treat you by taking you out for your choice of dessert. (it's really just an excuse to take you out on a date without using the word date)

ఇ . . . there's an unspoken rule that you are his. classmates know, your friends know, his homeboys know, hell, even the teachers know. you're the only person miles gives the time of day. you're the only one who gets to walk around with his arm on your shoulders, have his undivided attention, as well as be the reason for his smile. you are his and he is yours.

ᘏ⑅ᘏ

. . DATING STAGE . .

ఇ . . . late night facetime calls. you two are truly never apart. when you're not together physically you're on facetime with each other. he loves when you call him and showcase the cute things you bought for yourself using his card. he also just loves the comfort those calls bring him. seeing you engulfed in a warm blanket fast asleep while he's doing his own thing just makes him feel content. you're able to be there for each other without physically being there and that's enough for him to wait patiently until he's able to hold you again.

ఇ . . . clingy as hell. although, he'll never voice out his wants for your touch he will initiate it. miles will be the one to commence 80% of affection. partly because you're shy and mainly because he can't keep his hands off of you. miles is always touching you in some way. whether it be an arm around your shoulder, a hand resting on your thigh, or a hand rubbing your ass while you're cuddling. he can't resist kissing you either. his lips always finding any available part of your skin to kiss when he feels like it.

ఇ . . . compliments. every chance he gets he'll remind you how good you look. always hyping you up and telling you how beautiful you are. whenever you get overwhelmed by the flow of affectionate words that smoothly flow out of his mouth, you'll cover your face with your hands and turn away from him. it only gives him more fuel in the long run because he loves to see his girl get all shy and cute for him. sometimes he doesn't even use his words. a simple look up and down while licking his lips will leave you weak in the knees.

"that's all mine right there."

ఇ . . . genuinely hates arguing with you. he hates when you're upset with him. there are plenty of times where miles has provoked you to the point you've gotten upset with him and that's usually when he knows he's gone too far. you're his girl, his everything. he can't have you sulking because of him. although, miles does have a bit of a short-temper, he remains calm throughout these situations. he lets you both voice your sides and he won't let the situation go until you come to an agreement. he tends to avoid arguments at all costs. usually murmuring a "you got it, ma." before it turns into something more. after settling long disagreements, he'll engulf you in a hug and give you a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"love you. don't want my girl goin to bed mad at me."

ఇ . . . nicknames! his nicknames will consist of mi vida, mi reina, ma, mami, baby, etc. any term of endearment you can think of he's most-likely called you. usually consisting of 'my/mine'. he's very possessive. your contact name in his phone is 'mi corazon 💘' and you're the only one with an emoji next to your name.

ఇ . . . spoils you. you want it? you got it. although, miles isn't incredibly wealthy, he does have money. he uses it to take care of you and his mom, providing help for the both of you. he helps rio with actual necessities, while with you he provides you with gifts. ranging from shoes, eyelashes, lace fronts, plushies, clothes, or electronics. the most expensive gift he's gotten for you is an ipad and apple pencil. it was for your birthday and he knew he had to get it for you after hearing you fangirl about it nonstop.

ఇ . . . lets you do his hair. he usually only lets rio do his hair, he's a major mama's boy. so, when you were granted the privilege to do his hair you felt honored. he also just loves when you take his braids out and give him scalp massages. he's fallen asleep on occasion because of how gentle and soothing your hands are. he's also tender-headed as hell so, please be careful or you'll get a earful of him complaining.

"damn, ma. why you gotta pull so tight?"

ఇ . . . buys matching sets. he buys you both matching shoes, clothes, and jewelry. he likes the simplicity of being able to match with you and show everyone you're his without voicing it. you two are the couple that matches on christmas. matching christmas tree pants, and santa hats...rio thinks it's adorable. for your 5 month anniversary you were gifted a gold necklace with his name written in cursive and once he helped you put it on he revealed the necklace that was under his shirt that had your name in gold written in cursive. only time you two take it off is when you're in the shower/pool. he'll take it off during prowler business as well, he doesn't want to disclose any of his personal business at work, it's very dangerous for the both of you.

ఇ . . . cant sleep without you. once miles gets a taste of what life is like keeping you close and holding you to sleep, it's hard for him to go without it. he loves cuddling with you and if there were any instance where you two wouldn't be together he would toss and turn all night and look at the ceiling until his body physically shut down itself. it's not the healthiest way to go by so when he starts to show up to school with deeper eye bags than usual, you decide to give him a plushie of his own. he'll buy the plushie little clothes and change them every now and then. he names it after you, and he even bought the exact perfume you wear and sprays it on the stuffed animal before going to bed and cuddling it. he's embarrassed to admit it, so he'll never tell you how much he pampers it. (you don't need him to tho, you've caught him kissing the top of the stuffed animals head before cradling it in his arms and murmuring 'goodnight, mi vida.')

ఇ . . . will go to the barbie movie with you. he'll thrown on a pink hoodie, black jeans, and pair it with some jordan's while you're decked out from head to toe in pink. he's gonna cry at one point during the movie and you have to pretend you didn't see. when you ask him if he liked it he'll shrug his shoulders while sniffling. he def gave his mom a big hug when he got back home. :')

"yeah, yeah...it was alright, i guess."

ఇ . . . talks about you to his mom. mile's didn't speak much of you when he had a crush on you, but he really didn't have to. his mom knew there was something or more so someone occupying his mind whenever he'd come back from school with a slight dazed expression and the tiniest smile.

ఇ . . . graffiti's your initials together. whenever he's bored and has a little extra time on his hands he'll graffiti his and yours initials together. sometimes replacing your last initial with an 'M' for Morales..

ఇ . . . treats your stuffed animals like they're your children. he scolds you if he catches one of them on the floor, he'll name them future child names he has in mind because he def wants to get married and start a family w/ you, he gives them hugs and buys cute little tutu's for them. lowkey will throw a fit if he finds out you gave some of them away.

ఇ . . . buys/sends things that reminds him of you. he'll buy you your fave bag of chips if he sees it in the store, he'll pick up a keychain with your name on it and attach it to his bookbag, he'll send you memes or recommend a tv show because the character reminded him of you. you're really on his mind 25/8.

ఇ . . . bakes with you. he loves baking with you. you two will bake the hell out of some chocolate chip cookies or some brownies. nothing that takes too long or a lot of preparation though, he'll get antsy and kinda touchy which leads to burnt products and a ruined cake pan.

ఇ . . . shows you off/brags about you. his friends and close family members know all about you and your achievements. if you play sports he'll cheer you on and brag about your wins, if you're an artist he'll post your artwork, if you have a small clothing brand he'll wear it and tell people to buy from your store if they ask, if you knit/crochet he'll ask you to make him a bucket hat or a mini version of you and him, if you dance he'll stay up all night on the phone while you show him your new choreography. it doesn't matter what you do, miles will continue to support you and brag about any and every achievement you accomplish. big or small.

ఇ . . . miles morales loves his sweet soft significant other.

currently re-writing my miles morales fic that was 6k words because tumblr decided to randomly delete it 🥲 i'll try to get it out soon! <3

also sorry for inactivity, i've been busy w/ school and work but i'll try to shoot out fics faster when i get the time :) !!

#miles morales headcanons #miles morales fluff #e42 miles #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales x reader #prowler miles fanfic #miles morales x black!reader #prowler miles x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x y/n #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles 42 x reader #miles morales x you #prowler miles #miles morales prowler

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indecisivemuch · 6 months

Text

The Pact

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Seeing you yearn for a relationship and dejected over the lack of one, Luke Castellan proposes a dating pact. Little did you know, he was going to do more than just wait until the day the pact could happen (friends-to-lovers, fluff, pining, a lot of longing, lowkey jealous luke).

Note: Sort of inspired by Monica and Chandler's pact thing from Friends.

Word count: 3.4k

You were spending some time alone near the lake, trying to enjoy mid summer sunlight as well as the silence from the lack of campers and couples around. For some strange reason, the number of people dating at least tripled in the last three weeks. If you were honest, the sight of happy couples was starting to irritate you.

Your eyes glided through the lines in the novel you were reading, though you could barely get past a few pages before a degree of bitterness seeped through. You set the book down and sighed. Your head leaned against the tree behind you while shutting your eyes and furrowing your eyebrows.

Oh, if only someone could love you the same way love was portrayed in books.

Before the scowl could grow permanent on your face, you felt light finger tips setting on the crease between your eyebrows. Instead of getting scared, you remained calm. You knew immediately who it was because there was only one person who would do that. The person sat down next to you and you turned to see them already smiling at you.

To most, Luke Castellan was just the Hermes cabin counselor and best swordsman. But to you, he was a close friend and confidante. He has made it a habit to press softly against your scrunched eyebrows to prevent you from scowling further. It was somewhat sweet to you.

“What’s got you so bothered?” Luke asked, peering at you while tilting his head in a boyish manner. The look alone somehow made you blush. There was no denying that Luke was cute. You knew at least a handful of people at camp who would agree. It honestly surprised you that he was still single. Though you were somewhat relieved at that. For about a year now, you have had a little crush on the Hermes cabin counselor. It was not hard falling for his kind words and sweet actions.

“This is going to sound so stupid…” You let out a deep sigh.

“Oh, come on, since when have I judged you for being stupid?”

“Oh, so you do admit I’m stupid sometimes?”

“Yes, but is that really a problem, considering I find it endearing?” You hope he did not see the way your face heated up at his words.

Little did you know, Luke did notice it, just like he has always noticed little details about you. Knowing he was the reason behind your pink-tinted cheeks filled his heart with joy. In fact, throughout the last year, it got to the point where he would grow very bold with his flirty jokes, disguising his feelings in between them. Honestly, he was surprised you had not caught up to the truth yet.

“Okay, well, so many people have gotten together lately, and it’s got me a little bit annoyed.”

“Why?” Luke questioned.

“Because, I want that experience, you know? The teenage love thing. We already have a strange life, fighting creatures and going on quests that could kill us. I just want to at least experience an aspect of a normal teenage life,” you watched him nod and digest your words. “I didn’t want it, want it. But seeing everybody else experiencing it makes me wonder when it will be my turn, you know?” You sighed before adding, “To make matters worse, it seems like nobody is interested in me that way, so…”

Luke almost let out a chuckle of disbelief at your last remark. Oh, many Demigods found you cute. But if only you knew to look right under your nose. He has always been here. If only you could see him how he wanted you to and give him a chance.

Ever since the day Luke Castellan met you, he became a dreamer. During the night, every dream would be of you, while in the morning, he’d daydream of you until he would see you next. You filled in every thought, walking in his mind like it was your home. But even if it wasn’t your place, he’d still give you the keys without hesitation.

“So…you just want to experience teenage love?”

“Well, that, and ideally, to be loved too. I don’t just want some casual teenage love, but at the same time, I’m tired of waiting around.”

A lightbulb practically lit up inside Luke’s head as an idea popped up. The logical part of his mind was yelling that this was a bad idea, though the more chaotic side was pushing him to just give it a shot. Though, he spent little time contemplating.

“What if we make a pact? By the end of summer - so maybe in about a month - if you haven’t started dating anybody…let’s date each other,” Luke blurted out before his mind could talk him into backing out. It was stupid, and he knew it. But if that was one way to potentially date you, then so be it.

Luke’s heart squeezed when he saw you completely frozen. He started panicking. Maybe he made it too obvious, and perhaps you didn’t like him in that way and were trying to find a way to back out.

“I mean—just so the both of us could experience teenage love, you know? I think it will be great. We already get along well. We’re good friends. What could go wrong?” Luke tried in a more casual voice.

A lot could go wrong — you thought. A possible thing that could go wrong is that you would fall harder for Luke, and that feeling would absolutely destroy you when you two break up because he finally becomes genuinely interested in another girl. Or, it has you so hung up that you would confess to him, only for him to say that whatever you two had was just a pact. But Gods, your heart must actually be a fool to whisper to your brain, ‘I mean…at least you would no longer have to imagine how it would feel like to be his.’

“Sure,” you said before you could think twice about it. “Deal,” you grabbed his hand and shook it.

“Deal.”

Now…Luke just needed to do a couple more things in the meantime.

During the first week, you asked Clarisse to set you up with somebody. She introduced you to one of her friends, Dean. However, when you mentioned Dean to Luke, he clicked his tongue before warning you.

“I just think you deserve better, Y/N. I’ve known him for five years and have never seen him bring one person on a date twice. Last week alone, he went on a date with five people.” Since then, you haven’t spoken to Dean again, deciding that you don’t want to try and date a playboy.

Two weeks later, you asked this guy on a date. He came to the picnic you had set up with a bouquet of flowers. However, your smile faltered slightly when you realized they were the type of flowers you disliked. You shook the negative thoughts away. After all, it’s the effort that counts.

Things quickly went downhill as the guy started sneezing…a lot. His eyes were watering, and it seemed like he was borderline getting sick. You noticed him trying to stop sneezing. You could feel the guy trying—you really did. But the last straw broke when he turned away to sneeze mid-sentence but didn’t do it fast enough.

Three days before the day that marked the day the pact would be able to begin, you attended a party hosted by the Hermes cabin. You were honestly done with trying to find someone to date. Perhaps, this pact thing was not such a bad idea after all, even if Luke might not like you as much as you like him. But at least you knew he would treat you well.

However, your numbers must have turned because somebody had walked up to you and struck up a conversation. With similar humor, your jokes bounced off each other’s, and you almost started crying from laughing at one point.

The sound of your laughter caught the attention of the Hermes cabin counselor. Luke could feel his lips slowly curling up into a smile at the sound of your giggles and laughter. He has always found the sound so endearing.

However, when he turned his gaze over at you, his eyebrows scrunched at the sight of you conversing with another Hermes boy — Oscar, who was also one of his friends. Luke was no longer paying attention to the conversation in his circle right now. His ears were busy trying to make out what that boy was saying to make you laugh like that. However, he almost left his friends when you touched Oscar’s arm while giggling at another one of his jokes.

You always tend to physically react to Luke’s jokes, from small touches while laughing to you playfully slapping his arm at his cheekier jokes. They never fail to make the tip of his ears grow red while his cheeks match the same color. Though Luke swore he had never seen you this way with anybody else. Hence, he was less than enthusiastic at the sight of you doing the same with another guy right now.

You continued talking to Oscar, but your conversation stopped when somebody bumped into Oscar and spilled their drink onto him.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip…” the guy who bumped into Oscar apologized.

“Chris, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Oscar said, though a sigh quickly followed his words. “I’ll just go and wash the drink off, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, though?” Oscar looked at you. He smiled when you gave him a sweet nod.

“Sorry again, man,” Chris said before watching Oscar exit the cabin. He turned to you now. “So, how are you? Are you enjoying the party?” You answered Chris and started catching up with him. You and Chris met through Luke, though as the years went on you two became friends as well.

With your focus now on Chris, you did not notice the figure of the Hermes cabin counselor zooming past you two and outside, following a certain someone. However, your conversation with Chris didn’t last long because Clarisse swooped in and borrowed you from Chris.

“So, I saw you talking to Oscar. Give me the details,” she said, dragging you down to sit beside her.

“He’s great! It’s so easy to talk to him and be around him.”

“Easier than with Luke?” you gave her a warning glare. You might have told her about your little crush on Luke, though you confessed that to her out of the belief that nothing would ever happen and that it would pass soon. Fast-forward to a year later, your feelings have not changed.

“...No, but—”

“I’m telling you, Luke’s the best one for you.”

“He doesn’t like me like that.”

“If he doesn’t like you like that, he would have never made that pact with you." When you didn’t reply to her, Clarisse decided to bring something else up. “Alright, let’s move on and talk about something else then…another candidate. Dean told me you didn’t show up.”

“Show up to what?”

“He wrote you a note asking you to meet him?” the look on your face must have told Clarisse you had no idea what she was talking about. “He wanted to ask you out on a date in person after that talk you two had three weeks ago.”

“Where did he leave the note?”

“Apparently, he was planning to get me to give it to you, but he passed Luke on his way to me, who offered to give it to you.”

“Well, I never got the note. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Luke told me he’s quite a player.” Clarisse pondered on the information you just provided her. Dean was in no way a player. She knew he has only been on one date with another person at camp. However, the puzzle pieces quickly clicked for Clarisse and she leaned back with a smirk.

Before you could question the look on Clarisse's face, Oscar came back to the party.

“Well, if you don't mind, Oscar is back and I have a good feeling about him. So I'm going to go and talk to him,” you left Clarisse, walking in the direction Oscar did. Meanwhile, Clarisse only silently chuckled. She knew exactly what Luke was up to and it made her shook her head in amusement.

“Hey,” you touched Oscar’s arm, though the cheery grin on your face fell when he slightly flinched and shrugged your hand off. “Uhm, it’s good you got that stain off your shirt,” your eyebrows furrowed when you realized Oscar was not even making eye contact with you.

“So, tell me more about that quest you went on last year?” you asked, hoping to start a conversation again. However, Oscar quickly broke out the truth.

“Listen, you seem very lovely, but I don’t want to put myself in the middle of anything. I don’t want to cause any drama.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not the type of guy to steal girls my friends are talking to or having a thing with,” you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. Just as you were going to question what Oscar was referring to, his eyes betrayed him and looked at someone. You followed his eyesight only to see Luke already looking at you while glancing between you and Oscar. Though realizing he had been caught, Luke looked away and back to his friends.

That was when everything made sense.

“Uh oh…” Chris’s voice snapped Luke from whatever his friends were saying. He followed his gaze to where Chris was looking, only to see you storming over.

“We need to talk,” Luke tried not to think too much about the way your hand felt on his wrist as you pulled him through the crowd and outside. As always, he blindly followed you to wherever you were taking him.

You released Luke from your grip and stood with hands on your hips. You took a deep breath.

“Are you kidding me? Have you been sabotaging me? You told me Dean plays around, but apparently he doesn’t. He also gave you a note to give to me, but you never did it. Then, Oscar, who I was getting along with, came back acting weird, wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and then told me we have a thing going on?”

Oh, Gods, you found out about what he has been doing.

“Listen…” Luke started off while rubbing his neck, though he was unsure what to say next because he was indeed guilty of every accusation you were throwing towards him. But how was he meant to trust fate that you would still be single by the time the pact would be able to come true?

So, he intervened in his own way. That included throwing away Dean’s note, having Chris spill a drink on Oscar to get the boy away from you so Luke could have a talk with him. He might have also suggested your date two weeks ago to get you flowers, despite knowing that the boy was allergic to flowers.

All he wanted to do was to make sure the pact could happen.

“Luke…why? You know I wanted this. I wanted to experience things and date someone.” You weren’t mad, but you were slightly disappointed and confused. You didn’t understand Luke’s intentions behind his actions.

However, Luke misinterpreted the look on your face. He thought you were genuinely upset, and that alone pinched Luke’s heart. He gulped at the idea that he might have disappointed you or made you sad. Screw waiting until the pact happens before confessing. What use would that be when you might somehow start hating him?

“...Maybe I wanted it to be me,” Luke confessed, watching your eyes widen. “You told me you wanted to experience teenage love and feel loved, and you’re tired of waiting until it’s your turn. But I have never told you what I want.” Luke took a step closer to you before starting.

“I want to be the one to take you on dates and give you your favorite flowers every single time. I want to be your personal hype man and be your shoulder to cry on if you ever need one. I want to sit with you by the lake while you read. I also want to read the books you read and those little annotations you make. I want to learn about the things you love and the things you don’t. I want to do things you love. I want to show and tell you just how amazing you are every single day. I want to let the feelings I have right now grow cause I really like the idea of loving you, and I want to get there someday.”

You stood there shell-shocked. This felt almost surreal, like something you read from one of your novels. You have always wished to have someone who practically walked out of a romance novel.

“I want you.”

And here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance to be yours.

“And I know you just want teenage love, and I could offer you that. But just know I’m also offering so much more, even if you don’t treat the pact the same way as I do and will only view it as a casual relationship. But I suggested that pact and chased all those guys away because I like you a lot, Y/N. And in hindsight, it was stupid and selfish. But I did it because I felt like it was the only way I could have you.”

“I like you too, Luke,” the words slipped out so easily like they were always meant to be said. “I want you to be my teenage love. I want you too.” You’ve been walking around asking when it would be your turn. If only you had paid attention and looked closer instead, you might have noticed he felt the same way. You wanted everything he has spoken of and be just the same for him — to be there for him and learn to love the things he does.

“And I look forward to every single one of the things you’ve told me, and be the same for you. I really can’t wait for it. However, there is one thing I really want right now,” you said as you walked closer to him, one hand taking his own into yours.

“What?” Luke rasped out, looking so tentatively at you. Gods, whatever wish that spills from your lips this second will have him scour the world for it—whatever guarantees your happiness.

“I want you to kiss me.”

Oh, you could ask him for a thousand kisses, and he would give you a million.

Luke’s cheeks grew rosy at your request. He stepped closer, tucking your hair behind your ear without breaking eye contact.

“Can I?” He whispered in a honey-like tone, and you knew right then that if he kept talking to you in that voice, you’d do absolutely anything he asked.

“Mhm,” your quiet hum granted Luke permission to his next addiction. Without hesitation, Luke attached your lips together with both hands caressing your face tenderly. In return, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled you both closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. Slowly but surely, you also tangled your fingers in his curls. Luke almost immediately melted against your touch, sighing in contentment against the kiss.

Luke was convinced this was now his new favorite thing to do. He wondered if you could taste it through the kiss—his feelings and borderline infatuation for you. Either way, he intended on making every kiss like this: wholeheartedly and as if it would be your last.

Now, if you were to ask Luke Castellan how to get the person of your dreams, here’s what he’d advise you:

Step 1. Be stupid and propose a dating pact (tick).

Step 2. Chase away every other potential candidate (tick).

Step 3. Confess (tick).

Step 4. Fulfill all those promises you have made about loving the person (To be continued...But, he’s intending to do this for as long as you’ll let him).

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

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bunny-norris · 2 months

Text

TEENAGE DREAM, L. NORRIS.

Word count: idek but it’s long af (oops)

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids) i also can’t write smut too well so enjoy this monstrosity.

In which, his best friend was there all along, he just never realised it until it was almost too late. Best friends to lovers.

From the moment you were a little girl, motorsport was a big thing in your life. Your father and brother grew up being Formula One fans; it ran through your family. Your brother had decided he wanted to go karting, and ultimately you wanted to join him, wanting to compete against him.

It was on one of those early Saturday mornings at the local karting track, the air buzzing with excitement and the smell of petrol filling your lungs, that you first met Lando Norris. He was a scrawny kid with a mop of dark hair and a cheeky grin, looking just as eager to hit the track as you were. At first, you thought nothing of him, just another competitor in the line-up. But as the weeks turned into months, and the karting sessions became a regular part of your routine, you began to notice him more.

Lando was fast, really fast. But more than that, he was kind. In a world where everyone was trying to get ahead, he was the one who’d stick around to help you with your kart when it faltered, or share a laugh after a particularly tough race. Despite your fierce competitiveness and tough exterior, Lando seemed to see right through to the part of you that loved the sport not just for the thrill of victory, but for the pure joy of racing.

One rainy afternoon, after a particularly grueling session where you'd spun out twice and felt like giving up, it was Lando who came over and offered you his umbrella and a hug. "You'll get them next time, I believe in you, always." he said with that infectious grin, he wrapped his arms around you and whilst Lando was not the tallest boy you had ever seen, but he was much taller than you were, to the point that you hid your head in his neck as he hugged you.

"I'll never be as good as you Lan, you'll be a Formula One star one day I just know it." You told him, even though it was a tough day for you, you were happy for Lando, who had succeeded in winning the race.

"You're better than me, Y/N. And even if I do ever get into Formula One, i'll take you to every race, we'll always be together, always be best friends, I promise."

And just like that, from being just 11 years old, Lando kept his promise to you.

At just 18 years old, Lando Norris found himself catapulted into the world of Formula One as a driver for McLaren and you were with him every single step of the way. You were always his plus one to everything, every event he would beg you to go with him. Many people thought you were his sister, following him around everywhere, you were in every family photo, every red carpet photo.

But as you both grew older and Lando's career skyrocketed, your relationship began to shift. It was subtle at first, the way his touch lingered a bit longer, the way his smiles seemed warmer. Lando had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room, his blue eyes locking onto yours with a kind of intensity that made your heart race. He would cling onto you like you were his anchor, hugging you from behind, holding your hand in crowded places, and giving you soft kisses on your temple that left you breathless.

It felt like he was treating you like his girlfriend, and for a while, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, he saw you that way too. But then, there were the other girls. Lando was charming and handsome, and the attention he got from the opposite sex was impossible to ignore. He would bring home different girls, be seen with someone else on his arm, and every time it happened, it crushed your heart a little more. You tried to bury your feelings, to forget about the way he made you feel, but it was easier said than done.

Max, Lando's other best friend, was one of the few people who saw through your façade. He knew how you felt about Lando, and he never missed an opportunity to encourage you to go for it. "You should tell him," Max would say, his eyes serious. "You never know, he might feel the same way." But the thought of risking your friendship with Lando was too much. The fear of losing him completely if things went wrong kept you from saying anything.

So, you focused on your work, throwing yourself into your career and avoiding getting involved with boys. It was easier that way, not having to deal with the pain of seeing Lando with someone else. But deep down, there was always that glimmer of hope that one day, he would see you as more than just his best friend.

Your life revolved around him, and as much as you tried to deny it, your heart belonged to Lando. Every time he took the wheel and raced around the track, your heart raced with him. You were there for his triumphs and his defeats, always cheering him on from the sidelines. And through it all, he was your constant, the one person who made everything better just by being there.

You remember the nights spent talking until the early hours of the morning, sharing your hopes and dreams. Lando would often tell you how much he appreciated having you by his side, how he couldn't imagine doing any of it without you. Those words kept you going, even when it felt like your heart was breaking.

One evening, after a particularly grueling race, you found yourself alone with Lando in his hotel room. The exhaustion was evident on his face, but so was the relief of having you there. He pulled you into a tight hug, resting his chin on your head. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion.

You wanted to tell him right then and there how you felt, how much he meant to you, but the fear held you back. Instead, you held onto him a little tighter, savoring the moment and the warmth of his embrace. It was moments like these that made it all worth it, the pain and the longing. As long as you had him in your life, even as just a friend, it was enough.

But Max's words lingered in your mind, a constant reminder of the possibility that things could be different. "You're always going to wonder 'what if' unless you say something," Max had said once, his voice gentle but firm. And he was right. The fear of losing Lando was strong, but the fear of never knowing if he could love you back was even stronger.

—

The 'what if' thought became true though, soon enough you still hadn’t worked up the courage to say anything to your friend. You carried on as normal and that normal turned into him getting a girlfriend. Sure, Lando had been out with girls before but nothing serious, it was never serious, until now.

She was beautiful, kind, and perfect for him. At least, that’s what you told yourself. Lando still acted like your best friend, still hugged you from behind, still gave you those soft kisses on your temple, but it wasn’t the same. You could feel the distance growing, a subtle shift in the way he interacted with you. He wasn’t as close to you anymore, and while you respected his boundaries, it saddened you deeply.

You tried to be happy for him, to support him in his new relationship, but the pain of seeing him with someone else was too much to bear. So, you started to distance yourself. You didn’t go to his races as much anymore, making excuses about work and other commitments. You told yourself it was for the best, that you needed to give him space to focus on his new relationship.

One night, after a race in which he made the podium, there was a knock on your door. Surprised, you opened it to find Lando standing there, still in his race suit, his face flushed with emotion.

“You weren't there, why weren't you there?” he demanded, his eyes searching yours for answers. “I wanted you there, I needed you there.”

Your heart ached at the frustration in his voice, but you couldn’t hold back any longer. "It's not a big deal, Lan. I've missed other races before, I'm sorry I wasn't there but i've been busy." You told him, but he didn't want to accept that.

"You haven't been the same recently, Y/N, have I done something wrong? Please baby, just stop avoiding me."

You know deep down that you weren't everything to Lando, yet he treated you like a princess and treated you that way all the time. You'd had enough of the heart-stopping leap that occurred each time he called you "baby," "darling," or "sweetheart." He was using sweet nicknames for you, ones he should be addressing his lover, not you. Even though he may consider you to be his best friend, the nicknames weren't meant for you; they were for the people he loved.

You turned to face him quickly, something in your mind snapping with hurt. "You can't call me that anymore, Lando, do you not understand that? You have a girlfriend now, we've always been close, but maybe it's sometimes too close for me, it gives people the wrong impression."

"But you're my best girl, Y/N, we've always been like this, I don't understand what the issue is. It doesn't change anything between us."

“It changes everything between us, don't you understand that? You have a girlfriend now, Lando. You don’t need me following you everywhere. I have my own life, and I don’t want to get in the way of your relationship with her.”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “You can’t have it both ways,” you said, your voice trembling. “I can’t act like your girlfriend when I never will be. I can’t keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt to see you with someone else. I love you, Lando, and I understand that you’ll never love me back, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep breaking my own heart.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, Lando’s face twisted with anger and hurt. “You love me?"

“What does it matter now, Lando? It never has done before, so it doesn't need to matter now."

Without another word, Lando stormed out, slamming the door behind him. You stood there, your heart shattered, believing that your friendship was over.

You watched him leave, the weight of unspoken words and broken dreams pressing down on your chest.

Weeks passed in a blur of heartache and regret. You buried yourself in work, trying to forget the look on Lando's face when he stormed out of your apartment. The silence between you two was deafening, a constant reminder of everything left unsaid.

One Friday night, Max invited you out. “It’s just going to be a few of us,” he said, his voice casual over the phone. “No Lando, I promise. Just me, my girlfriend, and some friends. Come on, you need a break.”

Reluctantly, you agreed. Max’s girlfriend, Pietra, was one of your closest friends, and you missed her company. Besides, a night out might be exactly what you needed to get your mind off things.

When you arrived at the club, the music was loud and the lights were dazzling. Max’s girlfriend greeted you with a warm hug, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax. You didn’t see Lando anywhere, and for that, you were grateful.

You joined your friends on the dance floor, letting the music and the rhythm wash over you. For a little while, you felt free, lost in the moment. A man approached you, charming and handsome, and you found yourself dancing with him. He was a bit too close, his hands lingering a bit too long, but you tried to enjoy the attention, anything to distract from the ache in your heart.

Meanwhile, across the club, Lando stood at the bar with Max. His eyes scanned the crowd, and when he finally spotted you, his heart clenched. Max noticed the shift in his friend’s demeanor and followed his gaze.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Max said, his voice cutting through the noise.

Lando tore his eyes away from you and glared at Max. “What are you talking about?”

“You love her,” Max stated bluntly. “You’ve been stringing her along for years, being best friends for years without telling her how you really feel, treating her like a princess but never actually telling her how much you want her. And now, you’re losing her.”

Lando’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Max sighed, shaking his head. “Yes, you do. I've been both of your friends since we were young, i've lived through every looking look, every pda sessions. And now look at her.” He nodded towards you, now laughing as the man you were dancing with moved even closer. “She’s trying to move on, and you’re just standing here like an idiot.”

"You're delusional," Lando says, rolling his eyes, sipping some of his drink. Max just huffs at him, "sure mate, really explains why you're just burning holes into the back of that blokes head that she's been getting quite close with tonight."

"He just shouldn't be touching her like that," Lando mumbles. "I think actually, if she consents, he can touch her how she and he wants him to. Looks like she'll be getting lucky tonight, at least one of us will." Max smirks, turning away from his friend, knowing his words will light a flame under Lando's arse.

And it does, before Lando even knows where his feet are taking him and stands just feet away from Y/N, and before he knows it, he's pushing the guy she's been dancing with all night. As he pushes the guy away he turns to Y/N cupping her face and pulling her lips onto his.

For a moment, the world seems to stand still for both Y/N and Lando. Y/N's mind went from dancing with a man she had met that night to now all she could think about the fact that Lando's lips were on hers in a way in which she never could've imagined.

Lando put his hands up in your hair and swiped his tongue across your lips, pleading for permission to enter, which you granted. You held onto his waist and drew him in closer, unable to let go of this moment. The fact that there were people around—both familiar and unfamiliar—did not concern you. You wanted all of him right now, so nothing else mattered. You never wanted this to end.

"My girl," Lando mumbled in between kissing you, going back to your lips, bruising them a little more with his mouth.

"Yours, always yours."

Lando let your lips breathe, learning his forehead against your own, his hands making their way up and down your back, getting close to below your waise almost towards your backside. "I love you, i'm sorry I stormed out, i'm sorry for everything. I've been in love with you since the moment you stepped onto that karting track, I never thought you'd ever want me so I never asked, and that was cowardly of me. But please believe me when I tell you that you truly are everything to me." He breathed, as you just stared at him, not quite sure what to say.

"What about your relationship?"

"The moment you told me you loved me, the moment I walked out your door, I ended it." Lando stared into your eyes, he chuckled slightly. "You think i'm going to stay with someone who I don't love when the girl i'm been dreaming about since I was a teenager told me she loves me. Do you know how many time I layed in bed thinking about you, about what I would do to you if I had the chance. I'm not letting that opportunity slip through my fingers."

Your eyebrow perked up at his revolation, wanting to know more. "You thought about me? In bed? Were you having some naughty thoughts, Mr Norris?" You joked, your hands going up to the back of his neck.

"All the damn time, I thought about your body every single moment, whenever you came to the races I would see you in those summer dresses, you have and always will be the most gorgeous person in the room. You have no idea what I want to do to you."

At Lando's words you felt a sensations rush right to your core, you had made him feel that way. Every touch he had ever given you, every kiss on the shoulder, on the head, every time he had wrapped his arms around your waist was now meaning something different.

"Then show me, you want me, I want all of you."

"Are you sure?" Lando asked, always the gentleman, wanting to know you were okay before anything else.

You felt brave, a new sense of confidence surrounding you. You weren't the most confident when it came to men, you never spoke your true feelings to them, you never spoke about your sexual desires with them. But now, something had lit a fire in you and you wanted nothing more than to have everything with Lando. "Positive."

You had both made a swift exit from the club and back to Lando's apartment, a place you knew so well, you had spent endless nights there, together as friends, cuddled up to one another. Some nights you would even join him on his stream, laughing with each other. But tonight was different, his apartment was no longer a hangout place.

The ride back to the apartment was full of sexual tension, and you felt it immensely. Whilst you felt surges of confidence, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. Lando’s hand stayed on your thigh the whole time, making small shapes with his fingers, every so often getting higher and higher. Every time he would get to the point where you hoped he would finally touch you, he moved his fingers away from you.

You let out a whine, desperate for his touch. After all these years of pent up desire, you needed him to do something, anything. He rubbed your thigh, smirking at you. “Soon baby, just be patient, i’ll give you what you want soon enough.”

“Don’t wanna wait Lando, want you now.” You weren’t quite sure where what you were saying was coming from, but the way he spoke to you made you want more, you wanted more than what anyone else had ever given you during sex.

You pouted slightly as Lando just raised his brow, “carry on with that attitude and you won’t be getting anything.”

“I’ll just get myself off then, been doing it for years, i’ve gotten pretty good at it, you know.” Now it was your turn to smirk, though it seemed Lando didn’t find it too funny, his possessive side coming out even more.

He slapped your thigh slightly, making you gasp. “You’ll never do that to yourself again, the only person making you cum will be me, whether it’s my mouth, fingers or dick, only me you understand?”

“Only you.” You nodded, as he kissed you lightly, smirking knowingly to what his words did to you.

Arriving at his apartment, you both practically ran to his floor all the way to his door.

Opening the door, he pushed you up against the wall, slamming the door behind him, his hands cupped to your face, kissing you like it was your last night on earth.

His hands were everywhere, as were yours. His hands made their way to your breasts, spilling them out of the dress you were wearing, pinching your exposed nipples. Every piece of you he wanted to feel, and you wanted to feel all of him.

“Please Lando, want you inside me, please.” You moaned as he kissed down your neck, making sure to leave little marks in each spot he kissed.

“So needy,” he mumbled, but you just huffed again, trying desperately to get out of your dress. You felt hot, like your skin was on fire, wanting to feel your skin against his.

You pulled on his clothes, pulling his shirt over his head, finally being able to touch him after longing to for so long. You weren’t new to seeing Lando without a shirt, it was common when you both went on holiday or even in the gym, but this time it was different, you knew he was now yours and you were his.

Lando led you to the bed, pushing you on your back as he climbed on top of you, getting rid of the last of the clothing on you. “Dreamed of you for so long, dreamed of your pussy, how you’d feel, filling you up.”

His words spurred you on, you had never expected him to be like this, but god, this was better than you ever could’ve imagined.

He wasted no time in attaching his lips to you, something you had never really had the chance to experience. His tongue moved in ways you never knew were possibly, sucking on your clit, dipping his tongue inside your pussy. You felt like you could practically explode, coming close to your release.

Arching your back, gripping the sheets, Lando finally came up for air. “Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined.”

Before you could even think, he flipped you over so he was on his back and you were on top of him. “Gonna fuck you so good, darling, gonna treat you so right.”

You felt practically drunk at this point, you lined up his cock with your core, sinking onto it slowly, feeling him fill you just right.

“Fucking shit,” Lando cursed, not being able to take his eyes off you, mouth slightly agape unable to find the words to say from the pleasure.

You started moving slightly as you got use to him inside you. Your breasts bounced as you moved, Lando’s eyes never leaving yours.

“Can’t believe I never did this sooner, so many years I could’ve had you all to myself, had you like this every night. Never fucking letting you go, gonna fuck you everyday, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” Lando purred, encouraging you to go faster.

You nodded, barely being able to form the words to reply. “Yes, yes, please.”

“Good girl. My dream girl, so good for me.”

Lando’s pace quickened, making you both come close to climax. Both saying incoherent words of love and pleasure, Lando chanting over and over again about how good you felt and how he never wanted to let you go.

“Lan, i’m gonna..” You said, as his hand gripped your backside, you knew there would be marks there in the morning.

“Me too, baby. Come with me,” he said as you both looked in each others eyes.

Coming together, you fell against his chest, exhausted.

“I love you,” Lando said, pushing your hair out of your face, kissing the side of your head. Even after everything that had just happened, he still managed to treat you like the princess he always had done.

Your teenage dream had turned into something real.

do i know how to finish fics? no. Bon Appetite.

#formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #lando norris imagine #formula one smut #lando norris smut #smut #lando x reader #lando imagine

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viennakarma · 6 months

Text

My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

Find me on Twitter!

PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips.

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head.

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed.

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you.

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party.

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered,

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you.

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 #formula one #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #brocedes #Spotify

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akumakosuke · 7 months

Text

Satoru Gojo was born a god among mortals.

From the moment he opened his eyes he was automatically better than everyone, worth more than everyone.

Satoru Gojo stands alone atop a pedestal at the pinnacle of Jujutsu Sorcery, forever destined to bask in the glory of being the strongest. No one could ever dream to reach his level, he didn’t dream to reach his level but it was cast on him like a curse.

He is a cursed child indeed.

Exactly a week after the miracle birth of Satoru Gojo another clan also welcomed a miracle birth.

M/n Goto was born a god among mortals.

From the moment he opened his eyes he was automatically better than everyone, worth more than anyone…except…

M/n Goto forced the pedestal to grow.

Satoru Gojo tipped the balance of the scales and M/n Goto totally destroyed the scale.

All curse users went into hiding, curses became almost completely inactive for an entire year following the birth of two gods.

During the first few years of their lives they remained blissfully unaware of how deep their destinies intertwine, how truly connected they are.

The day they met was another day to go down in the history books.

Two lone gods, wandering a world that will forever be beneath them, filled with people who will forever be beneath them.

Their paths cross and in that moment time stands still for the young gods, a feeling they’ve never experienced, a sudden tugging at their souls, telling them to turn around and they do.

Crystal-like icy blue orbs clash with star-like fiery red orbs and in that moment two lonely gods became a little less lonely.

The two grew close much to the dismay of many. They knew of their places in the world and they knew no one else understands but them. No one else understands they’re cursed children.

Days of meeting for play dates turned into weekend sleepovers, weekend sleepovers turned into months of bonding, months slowly turned into years and M/n and Satoru thrived, they grew and changed but their bond only got deeper.

They pushed each other to the limits, forcing the other to evolve and keep up and evolve they did.

By the age of 15 they were both Special Grade sorcerers heading into their first year at Jujutsu tech.

Their relationship has also evolved over the years much like their power.

They’re best friends, sure they’re closer than most best friends. They have regular sleepovers and share the same bed, unable to fall asleep without cuddling and sure they are affectionate in public, always staying glued to the others side, an arm around a shoulder here, hands resting on the others hips there and maybe they have kissed a few times but that’s just them being best friends, totally platonic!

Do they have an unspoken agreement to reject any advances from other people? Yes.

Do they acknowledged the agreement? No, that’s why its unspoken, just like the reason they reject everyone else, an unspoken mutual agreement to be each others and only each others without putting any labels on it, besides its not like there’s anyone else alive that could ever tear them apart, come between them or even stand on the same level as them.

Suguru Geto.

The moment M/n and Satoru met Suguru their pedestal was forced to widen again.

They were confronted by another and they had mixed feelings about sharing.

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

Okay so I was thinking of making this into an entire fic but im not sure.

I have a lot of ideas already, especially about the in depth relationship of the three of them and how they would function.

It would focus on M/n, Satoru and Suguru and how their relationship develops throughout the years in Jujutsu Tech and what would happen during the hidden inventory arc with M/n present and how he would affect the story.

There will be smut of course with Domtop Amab M/n and Subbot Satoru and Suguru .

Let me know if I should make a full on fic or just a smut with a bit of plot sprinkled in~!

#akumakosuketoughts #dom male reader #seme male reader #top male reader #male reader #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru x male reader #gojo x male reader #satoru gojo x male reader #geto suguru #suguru x male reader #geto x male reader #suguru geto x male reader #sub jjk

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vividxpages · 15 days

Text

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩"guilty as sin?" - Jace Velaryon x f!Reader ᡣ𐭩⋆๋𓂃ִֶָ ๋⋆𓏲𐙚

words: 5800

summary: You always thought Jace could not be in love with you, his best friend’s little sister, but a dramatic incident during one of Cregan’s house parties reveals the truth.

warnings: modern au, pining, not so unrequited love, reader is Cregan’s little sister and a huge bookworm, Jace is Cregan’s best friend, fluff and falling in love, angst (mentions of childhood trauma/almost drowning), hurt/comfort, first kiss

a/n: i fought for my life uploading this via my phone, all the formatting from google docs went wooosh haha. Just a little something and different from what I wrote for Jace so far <3 The pool scene is inspired by the Maxton Hall series - if you watched it, you’ll know why ;)

-⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ☁️📖🤍୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Your brother Cregan had met a new friend, during one of his vacations with his boys. Someone had asked the curly haired boy if he wanted to join and just like that, Jacaerys had become Cregan’s friend.

It was easy like that, sometimes.

But when your brother brought Jace over for the first time and you were reading in the living room, deeply lost in your book and not prepared for visitors, things quickly got much more complicated.

He was cute and completely unaware of it as you shook hands and he gave you an adorable smile that made you weak in the knees.

In the beginning, you thought he was like a ghost in your home, only appearing from time to time and briefly, but always leaving goosebumps on your skin when he shyly waved at you. Just his sight alone was enough to make you want to bury your face in your book. You wanted to become his friend, too. Until you wanted to be more than that.

And over the months, their duo became a trio as you joined them more and more often, curled up on your brother’s bed as he and Jace played a video game or going out with them for food or random drives.

You laughed together - it was so so easy to laugh with Jace - and you got to know him better when he told you about his big family and how nice it was to retreat into your quieter family’s house sometimes.

You caught yourself watching him more and more when no one was looking, daydreaming about what it’d be like to be close to him, to kiss his pouty lips and be his girlfriend…

But you were a trio now and you two were only connected by your older brother in the end.

But god, how inevitably you had fallen for Jacaerys, how impossible it was to forget about these desires.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃🥛 ࣪ ִֶָ.

It didn't take long until Jacaerys followed you into your dreams.

When you were sleeping, especially after you had read a couple pages of your favorite romance novels, he came to you, surrounded by smoke and fog. And for only a short lived dream, you could see each other together, doing things you wouldn't dare to think about during the day.

It was maddening and perfect and everything you wanted, but when you woke up, you were alone still.

You stared at the ceiling of your room, sighing deeply. Tucking your favorite stuffed animal, a small wolf with spotted fur, back under your blanket, you slid out of bed, in need of a distraction from fantasizing about kissing your brother's best friend.

You tiptoed down the staircase, silently slipping into the kitchen and feeling around the wall for the lightswitch.

"Don't get scared, I'm here." A soft voice came from the darkness and as you switched the light on, you spotted Jacaerys sitting at the kitchen table.

His hair looked disheveled from sleeping and he wore a long shirt and boxers, sheepishly looking at you with his phone in his hands.

Your hand itched to tuck a loose curl behind his ear for him.

“What are you doing awake?” You whispered, shuffling closer and rubbing your eyes with a yawn.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He smiled warmly at you, shrugging.

“I live here and I wanted a midnight snack.” You gave back. You rarely were alone with Jace lately, he and Cregan seemed to have reached a new stage in their friendship where it wouldn’t have surprised you if your older brother took his favorite Velaryon to the bathroom with him. “Is Cregan snoring?”

Jace chuckled quietly. “No. I just wanted to check my phone in case my cousin Rhaena texted me. My brothers are on a little trip with her and I want to make sure they’re okay and not homesick. They seem fine though, she sent me a picture of them eating ice cream earlier.”

Your chest ached funnily at the way he talked so lovingly about his family. But you knew Cregan’s habit as the oldest son all too well, needing to make sure you were okay all the time and you didn’t miss the way Jace smiled sadly at the picture on his phone after showing it to you.

“I bet they have the most amazing time and can’t wait to tell you all about it once they’re back.” You assured him and before you would have thought twice about it, you reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Your touch lingered, just a little moment too long and your eyes met.

Your breath hitched at his dark eyes on yours, shimmering in the soft kitchen light. You were both barefoot, in your sleeping clothes and your hair was open and uncombed and your heart was way too open for this time of the night.

You heard him exhale softly as you drew your hand back, feeling as if you had burned yourself. But why did you want to throw yourself wholly into his flames then?

“Would you like a chocolate milk?” You offered, the moment between you vanished. “It always helps me get back to sleep again.”

Jace furrowed his brows. “Cregan’s crazy for them too. He told me earlier you’re out of any chocolate milk.”

You grinned knowingly, walking past him and illuminating yourself in the cold light of the open fridge. “Yeah, that’s because he doesn’t suspect me hiding them behind the healthy stuff he avoids.”

Brushing past your yogurts and meal preps for your summer job, you produced two small milk cartons, shaking them victoriously.

Jace grinned at you and it only made you a little bit weak in the knees. "You're brilliant."

"I'm trying to survive with my vacuum cleaner of a hungry brother." You joked and handed him a carton, the two of you content as you began to sip on the sweet chocolate milk.

Under the soft light of the kitchen lamp, Jace and you forgot about time as you shared whispered stories with each other, your drinks soon becoming empty and replaced by new ones.

His gentle and unhurried words were good at calming down your entire body and soon, you felt your eyes drooping.

"I think we should both go back to bed now." Jace whispered. "I told Cregan we'll go play some basketball tomorrow morning and I want to beat him."

You laughed at the thought of your giant of a brother going up against Jacaerys. "Well, good luck to you."

With a tiny yawn, you stood up and smiled at him once again. "Thank you for the conversation, Jace. Sleep well."

"Goodnight." Jace said softly and for a moment, you lingered in the doorway, imagining if you weren't leaving. Imagining the two of you, him with you in his lap, pulling you closer as you kissed.

But you could dream about these things.

With one last smile, you left him, although your heart ached to stay with him for just a little longer.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🍋.

One afternoon, you were reading by the pool in the backyard.

You had just come back after your shift at your holiday job, helping out in a little bookshop downtown, and were now ready to relax all day.

On a small table next to your sun lounger stood a carafe of freshly pressed lemonade and the bookish harvest of the day, ready to be devoured by you until the sun went down.

The garden gate by the house rattled and you looked up, your hands nearly forgetting to put a bookmark between the pages as you spotted Jace letting himself in.

Your mouth went dry at his appearance, dark sunglasses holding back his curls, his white shirt a stark contrast against them. Illuminated by your kitchen lights or the sun itself, it didn't seem to matter for him.

He was so pretty, it almost made you want to look away, but you couldn't. You never could. And wasn’t this the root of the problem?

You swallowed against the dryness in your throat. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He smiled sheepishly at you before he looked up to Cregan’s window. “Cregan is not home yet?”

You shook your head. “Nope. It’s just me right now. Should I tell him you stopped by?”

He scratched his neck, a little helpless. “Um…if it’s okay, I could stay and wait for him? I like spending time with you, too, if that’s alright.”

You wanted to bury your face in your hands and giggle like stupid. You didn’t. “Yes, of course, no worries. Would you like a lemonade?”

Jace gratefully took the glass from your hands, your knuckles brushing against one another. “Thanks. You can continue reading if you want, just act like I’m not here.”

You thought about the steamy chapter you had just begun reading and considered your options. If you read, it was like every character the narrator was in love with became Jace. In your head, you two had already kissed and made love a thousand times like this. If you continued reading those longing and hot scenes with Jace so close to you, you were afraid you’d actually implode.

You watched him closely as he sat down by the edge of the pool, abandoning his shoes so he could dangle his long legs into the water.

The words in front of you melted together on the page, making it impossible to continue reading when he was so close to you.

Shifting on your sunchair, you allowed yourself to simply look at Jace who tilted back his head, closing his eyes against the sun and appreciating the quietness of the backyard. You wanted to go to him and kiss him on the lips. You wanted to go inside and splash very cold water on your face to stop these thoughts from happening.

“You know, I never see you swimming in here.” Jacaerys looked at you curiously, eyes scrunched together a little from the sun and probably the fact he was not wearing his contacts.

You shrugged, a little shy out of the sudden. “I used to, when I was younger. But…not anymore.”

“What happened?” Jace looked at you, curious yet a little worried.You tried to shrug it off, only to realize there was no shame in you when you talked to him. He waited for you, patiently so, but somehow you knew he would’ve let it go if you wanted it.

“We were on vacation once, Cregan, Sara and I, with our parents.” You told him and in your mind you could see the three of you playing together in the garden, your brother giving you a piggyback ride as Sara laughed in delight. “I wanted to go swimming in the morning, but no one was awake yet, so I snuck out. I just couldn’t wait to get into the pool. But I underestimated how deep it was and I couldn’t hold myself up well enough then…Cregan had woken up when he heard me leave and found me. I scared everyone, but I was okay, just coughed up some water and was shocked at my own boldness. Ever since, the pool and I are not really on good terms.”

Jacaerys looked at you, eyes filled with consternation and empathy. “I’m sorry you had an experience like this. That must’ve been very scary.”

You looked at him with surprise, but there were no jokes in him, only sympathy. “It was, but it’s okay. I was…six, I think, so it’s long behind me.”

“This whole pool is a waste if you can’t enjoy it.” Jace tried to lighten the mood and as always, his playful tone lured a smile out of you. A certain sparkle danced through his eyes and you knew whatever came next could not be taken seriously: “What would you like to have instead of it? A garden library maybe, for all your books? Maybe I can convince Cregan to cement the pool shut once your parents are gone next weekend.”

You laughed, a warm rush blossoming through you at the mention of your own little library. He knew how much you read and he had no clue you were seeing him in every love interest of your cheesy romance novels… “I bet my parents would love that and totally not…murder us once they’re back.”

As you laughed together, the small weight on your chest lifted itself and the memory from your story faded again, nothing but a distant thought of the past.

Cregan came home a little later and as he and Jace left to go up into his room, the two of you smiled at each other one last time, as if you were sharing a secret no one knew but you now.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🍿.

It was getting late, but Tuesday was movie night and neither of the three of you wanted to pull out of it first.

Cregan, Jace and you had pushed the couch table to the side and splayed blankets and pillows all over the carpet earlier.

To our feet was the rest of your movie snacks, but only a half-full bowl of popcorn remained which you passed back and forth from time to time.

When Cregan had suddenly not grabbed the bowl from you anymore, you and Jace had shared a knowing look.

Your brother was snoring softly, his head tilted back and arms entwined in front of his broad chest. He was out cold, completely oblivious to the movie still running quietly on the TV screen.

But you and Jace were still awake.

And out of the sudden you realized that you had never sat so close to each other. Your shoulders were almost touching and somewhen, your legs had ended up underneath his blanket, your fuzzy socks brushing against his calf.

You willed your breathing to remain regular, seemingly impassive as you continued to watch the movie, but you simply could not concentrate, not when Jace’s presence so close to you clouded all your senses like this.

The atmosphere was thick with tension and you wondered if all of this was only happening in your mind. You took a deep breath and reached for the popcorn again.

Tiny lightning struck you as your fingers brushed against Jace’s, neither of you pulling back.

You took all your courage and looked up to him, his burning gaze already resting on you. You swallowed thickly, unable to look away and when you felt his thumb brushing over your knuckles, you were sure you were going mad.

It seemed like Jace couldn’t look away either and a full-body shudder went through him when your leg shifted against his.

“You can sleep.” Jace whispered into the darkness, gulping hard. “I’ll switch the TV off later. I…I’ll watch over you.”

I don’t want to sleep. I want you and I’m afraid of what happens to me if I can’t have you.

But you feared your own words and the impact that they might have, destroying everything Jace and you had become over the last couple of months.

What if dreams were safer than reality, where nothing could hurt or disappoint you?

Your head fell softly against Cregan’s shoulder, sweet oblivion already pulling you under at the outlook of his sweet promise to you.

As you drifted asleep, you could’ve sworn there was a featherlight brush over your thigh, four little invisible letters forever imprinted into your soft skin

m…

...i...

…n...

…e

And as he watched your breath evening out, Jacaerys sighed deeply, his head bumping against the cushions of the couch and trying to calm down his pounding heart.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ📖.

The weekend came and Cregan and you watched your parents’ car leave the driveway, your arms slung around each other as you waved at them before they drove out of sight.

Your brother and you were standing together for a moment of silence until you said: “If tonight escalates in any way, I’m telling mom.”

“If you sneak downstairs and drink with the guys, I’m telling dad.”

You snorted, unimpressed. “Please, I’d rather lock myself in my room all weekend long if it means I can avoid your stupid house party.”

Later that day, when it had gotten dark outside and the lawn was plastered with abandoned bikes and a few cars parked nearby, you realized how painfully true you had spoken.

Cregan’s party had been going strong for a while now and you felt like a hermit, hiding upstairs in your room to avoid the chaos that was probably taking place downstairs.

You had curled up by the window with a book, but couldn’t find peace.

Every minute, someone downstairs was calling for a toast or more shots which was celebrated by everyone. Music was blasting through the speakers and you groaned internally at the way the vibrations could be felt through your carpet.

Cregan could only pull this because the neighbors loved him for helping out here and there sometimes and because he always miraculously managed to clean up the house like nothing wild had ever occured here.

When you heard something shatter downstairs, you had enough.

You closed your book and got up.

Sure, you had wanted to stay away from all the fuzz Cregan’s friends made, but this was still your house. You were allowed to move around whenever you wanted.

You muttered the words to yourself as you closed your door behind you, stomping down the staircase Cregan had declared taboo for everyone.

No one really took notice of their host’s little sister as you walked down the hallway, past many guests who were lingering by the walls and chatting with each other.

Making your way past the living room, you could see that the couch table had been pushed back for more space to dance, but the kitchen was relatively empty compared to the rest of the house.

There were multiple open pizza cartons on the counter and you grabbed yourself an extra cheesy slice as you looked around, amazed at how none of these people seemed to care who was walking around here.

All except one.

“I thought you might’ve taken refuge tonight at Baela’s.” Jace said behind you and you turned around with a sigh, smiling at him in playful annoyance.

“I wish I could’ve, but she is not in town as you might know.” You told him, munching on your pizza. “She’s at some bonding activity dinner with her dad.”

Jace hummed knowingly. “I heard. So you had no choice but to suffer the consequences of Cregan’s actions?”

The two of you looked around and you winced when you heard some splashes coming from the backyard, accompanied by some carefree shrieks of delight. Jace bit his lip, a little guilty at your discomfort.

“I’ll come around tomorrow and help him clean everything up.” He offered as a small comfort, his hand itching to rest on your shoulder like you had done to him. “There won’t be a dirty spot, I promise.”

“I know, Jace.” You sighed. “Thank you, truly. Where is my brother, by the way?”

Jace looked flustered to the ground, before smiling at you without teeth. “I think he went somewhere with a girl.”

“Of course he did.” Another loud crash went down outside and something in you snapped. “Okay, I’m going to go outside for a second, I don’t think some of these assholes realize we have neighbors, hold on-”

Jace looked over his shoulder, telling a group nearby to keep it down a little before he followed you.

For just a moment, you disappeared in the crowd and he had no idea which side you had gone for, trying to stand taller to spot you in the garden.

You quickly found the source to all the noisiness.

Three of Cregan’s guests, all boys you had never seen before in your life, were battling themselves for the biggest jump in the pool, splashing everywhere and soaking the pillows on the sun chairs with water.

“Hey.” You stared them down, blocking one of them from taking another leap in the pool. “Could you stop being an ass and jumping into the pool like a maniac? We have neighbors on each side of our backyard and it’s almost midnight, it’s so rude.”

The guy grinned down at you, looking over his shoulders to his smirking friends. “Did you hear that, guys? I think Cregan’s mom just came home, are you the fun police or what?”

You stared at him, irritated at such rude behavior. “I’m just telling you to calm down a little or I’ll kick you out, how’s that?” You might’ve been only Cregan’s little sister, but growing up with a fiercely protective brother like him, you had learned to stand your ground. And you were not scared of an idiot who looked like he had pissed his pants.

“Aww, I think you need a little fun, don’t you think?” He looked down on you, stepping closer until you felt the need to step back. “How about a little cool-off for you, huh?”

And with those words, he abruptly pushed you into the pool and everything went dark around you.

The people who had watched the heated exchange gasped and Jacaerys perked up as he heard nothing but quietness, quickly pushing his way through the crowd.

He came to a sudden stop at the edge of the pool, his eyes flickering back and forth between the guys standing by the edge and the water’s surface, its softening waves quietening down.

But underneath it, illuminated by the night lamps of the pool, he saw you and his eyes widened.

He did not think, did not even hesitate before he jumped into the water after you.

The surprising cold was like a shock to his system, his wet clothes dragging him down to where you floated, your eyes wide open but unseeing as you watched the bubbles around you.

Suddenly, you were six again and you couldn’t move.

You thought you were dying and no one would know, no one would know what you still had to say.

You wanted to kick and scream, to do something goddammit, but you were paralyzed by the sudden overwhelming scare.

Jace blinked and pushed himself forward, icy fear shooting through his veins when you gave no reaction that you had taken any notice of him. But the fear was quickly joined by the rage, anger over you, the most innocent being in this whole house, having been the one who took the most damage tonight...

Jace and you broke through the surface, the air rushing back into your lungs all at once and making you gasp painfully. Disoriented, you clung to Jace's shirt, looking around wildly as he pulled you close and soothed you.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here, it's okay, love." He murmured near your ear and you felt your body slump, not able to hold yourself up yet.

You felt his hands on your waist and then, with one hand around your back and the other supporting the back of your knees, he walked towards the low end of the pool, carrying you out as if you weighed nothing.

You painfully became aware of how quiet it had gotten around you. Everyone in the garden was looking at you, shocked and a little ashamed that a foul joke like that had escalated into something so serious.

Something ugly and hot burned in your throat and you buried your face in Jace's wet neck, holding on to him for dear life and wishing everyone would just disappear.

A helpless whimper escaped you and Jace held you only tighter. "It's okay, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you, we're almost out."

Both of your clothes hung heavily down your bodies as he left the pool with you, throwing one last deathly glance at the guy who messed with you before he made his way towards the house, still mumbling little sweet nothings in your ear as you tried to regulate your breathing to no avail.

You shivered even as you entered the warm house and simply tried to focus yourself on Jace. He efficiently made his way through your home and before you knew it, he was walking up the taboo staircase, going straight to your room.

You quietly sniffled to yourself, letting him carry you a few more steps before he gently set you down on your bed. He looked around, one hand brushing back his wet hair, and found your fluffy bathrobe hanging by the door.

"Can I?" He asked lowly, his heart aching at your slumped form on the bed. This whole incident had deeply shaken you to the core. "You're going to be cold soon if you don't get out of your…wet clothes."

If the situation had been different, you'd match his fierce blush, but it was like every feeling of shame had vanished from your chest and only left you empty. You nodded silently, taking the bathrobe he handed you before he turned around and faced the door.

You quickly slipped out of your clothes and sighed when you were enveloped by the fluffy robe.

"You can look again…" You told him and he turned around with a shaky exhale.

Normally, his job here was done now. He could go, rejoin the party and find Cregan so he'd kick those guys out.

But Jace could not imagine a single place where he was needed more in this moment than right here, with you.

"Should I make you a tea?" He broke the silence, fidgeting with his hands. When one of his younger brothers was hurting, he'd always make it better with a hug, but you were different, you were so much more-

"Can you just hold me for a while?" You pulled the rope tighter around you, your wet hair still clinging to your neck and cheeks. "Please?"

Maybe the leap into the pool had made you silly. It was bold and daring and you had no right to ask him of this, but your heart had spoken deeply from its core and you found that you did not wish to take the words back.

Jace's gaze softened at your plea. "Of course." He mumbled softly and sat down beside you.

A heavy shudder ran through you as his arms pulled you against him and you gladly fell into his side; letting yourself be held like a small child, your hands clinging to the arm wrapped around you.

You couldn't help yourself when your bottom lip started to wobble again and neither of you had to say it, he knew why this had been so scary to you. You felt his chin rest on your hair and his strong arms around you and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be comforted by him.

You had dreamed about being held by him, more than you could ever count, but not like this. It was a bittersweet feeling and when you snuggled yourself closer to him, in need for warmth and him, Jace took a deep breath.

"We should find you a towel." He murmured, his lips ghosting over your temple just like his hand had ghosted over your thigh…

You shivered, but not because you were cold anymore.

"I don't want you to get sick."

You nodded, sitting up with him and looking deep into his eyes. He didn't seem like he was able to get up just yet, the two of you lost in each other.

He had jumped into the cold water for you, not even hesitating a second. Your heart brimmed with love for him, nearly as bad as what it felt like to drown. And god, how you wanted to drown in him…

His dark eyes flickered down to your mouth and only now, you realized how close you still were sitting together, the slip of your bathrobe revealing half of your naked thigh to him.

"Jace…" You whispered and prayed all the prelude of wanting him and not being sure if you were allowed to have him was finally over now. "I-"

The door to your room opened and in came Cregan, panting as if he had run upstairs.

"Shit, are you okay?" He rushed to you, kneeling in front of the bed and looking you over in concern. "I was told what happened, I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

"It's okay." You mumbled, not wanting to worry him further. You already had scared Cregan badly enough for one time in your lives. "Jace helped me."

If Cregan noticed that he and you were still linking pinkies, he did not say anything about it. "I threw these fuckers out right away. The party is over."

You blinked at him. "What? You were excited about it all week. You don't have to-"

"Almost everyone is gone already." Cregan tried to smile encouragingly at you, but you could still see the worry in his eyes. "How about you'll change into something dry and I make us a snack? Are you sure you’re okay?"

"I'll leave you two." Jace announced quietly and squeezed your hand once more. "I'll go downstairs and make sure everyone is gone."

For just a moment, you did not want to let go of his hand and your fingers brushed midair before he slipped out of your grasp.

As the door closed behind him and Cregan brought you a towel for your hair, you already missed him like a lost limb.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🌸.

Of course, what had to happen, happened; a few days later, you found yourself sick.

Neither you nor Cregan had told your parents how the party had abruptly ended, a secret deal between the two of you so they wouldn't worry too much about you and they didn't have to punish Cregan for it.

So, your days at the end of summer were spent on the couch downstairs, curled up under a blanket and frequently attended by Cregan who brought you snacks and chocolate milk. It sucked and it was boring since you quickly ran out of books, but it was better than the horrible panic that went through you when you had been thrown into the pool.

On day three though, you had a visitor.

You blinked as steps approached your little sickbed, still a bit sleepy from your afternoon nap and the delicious noodle soup that had been made for you. But to your surprise, Cregan only stood at the staircase, smiling fondly at you before disappearing upstairs, making room for Jace who had waited behind him.

Your heart skipped a beat and a thousand thoughts rushed through your head. When had you showered the last time, did you comb your hair this morning, were you-

"Hey." Jace said softly. "I wanted to see if you were feeling better."

"A little." You smiled at him, sitting up and placing your wolf in your lap as he walked towards you. "You didn't have to come though, I don't want you to get sick."

He brushed your worries away and sat down on the carpet in front of your couch. "I brought you some tea. Raspberry was your favorite, right? And then, I thought you might want some new reading material."

You gasped as he conjured up a big bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back. At the first glance, it was only the most beautiful flower bouquet you had ever seen, but then you spotted a book in the middle of the blossoms.

And then another one.

And another one.

"Jace…" You whispered with wide eyes, shaking your head at him in disbelief. "You made me a flower bouquet with books?"

He bit his lip in flusteration, a pretty pink blush appearing on his cheeks. "Yeah...I went to the bookstore you work at and thought about what you might enjoy. I hope you like them, I kept the receipt just in case and-"

"Jace." You interrupted him and now it was your turn to blush as you pressed the bouquet to your chest, the new books in the middle of it already singing your name. "This is the loveliest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, I love it so much. I bet the books you chose are wonderful."

In this moment, it didn't matter to you that you were sick and still a little nasal. The way he smiled up at you, like you were his entire world and his shoulders sagged with relief - your heart screamed at you to finally give in.

Give in to him.

The wrapping paper around your bouquet rustled against your chest as you bent forward and rested a careful hand on Jacaerys' cheek.

He looked up at you with wide puppy eyes, thunderstruck at the tender touch and then you really didn't know anymore who made the first move but it didn't matter, because then-

Your lips touched softly.

It barely was a real kiss, merely the brush of a butterflies' wing against you, but it was all you had longed for for so long.

Neither of you dared to breathe, the moment too soft and fragile to become anything deeper. But you felt him exhale shakingly, his thumb softly holding your chin to keep you close for just a moment longer. It was the softest first kiss you could’ve imagined for yourself.

You leaned back, but only a little, and watched as Jace's eyes blissfully fluttered open, fixing your own wide ones dreamily.

"If I would've known books are the way to your heart, I would've brought you some so much earlier." He confessed breathlessly.

You shook your head, your lips still tingling from this first shy kiss. "You have been in my heart since I first met you."

Jacaerys wanted to melt from the victorious roar his heart let out, a dragon taking flight. "I've been in love with you, too. Ever since Cregan introduced us."

Your hands found their way to each other before you let out a sudden laugh.

"What is it?" He wanted to know.

"I just- I kissed you."

He grinned. "Yeah, you did." And he was in need of a repetition already.

"Jace, you're going to be sick like me." You pointed out guiltily, although it didn't seem too bad to have a companion in your little misery, especially if it was him.

"Oh." He did not look like he had a single care for the consequences of your actions.

"Are you two done yet down there?!" Cregan called from upstairs and when your eyes met, you broke into laughter and your heart blossomed at Jace's happy giggle.

It knew now that he was yours.

And you were his, just as he had once written on your upper thigh…

𓆩♡𓆪

#jace velaryon #jace targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jace targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #hotd

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andvys · 1 year

Text

It's just us | S.H.

Warnings: 18+, angst, cheating (reader and Steve get cheated on by their partners), heartbreak, betrayal, enemies to lovers, King!Steve, smut, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, r and Steve are both over the age of 18, mentions of reader having nipple piercings

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve hated each other from the first moment you met but when you get betrayed by the people you love the most, all you have is each other.

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: I was really fucking close to making this an Eddie fic or at least a Steddie fic cause Eddie Munson owns me but this one is for my Steve girlies and for the ones who asked me to write for him before so here ya go. And I'm back to focusing on my one and only

stranger things masterlist

part two (steddie x reader)

There was one person that you hated more than anything, Steve Harrington. From the first moment you have laid your eyes on him, you just couldn’t stand him. You hated his cocky and arrogant personality, his perfect reputation, how sure of himself he always was. You hated King Steve, you hated the way he looked at you, you hated the way he used every opportunity to piss you off, he said things that he knew would get under your skin.

He hated you too, he hated how loved you were, he hated how popular you were. Both of you rivaled each other, he was the captain of the basketball team and you were the head cheerleader. In a perfect world, you would be together and people would call you a dream couple but instead you two hated each other’s guts.

You threw nasty words at each other, bickering every time you were around each other. You avoided him as much as he avoided you and for a while it worked until he started dating your best friend, Nancy.

Over were the peaceful lunch breaks at the cafeteria where you would only sit with her and your boyfriend. Steve started tagging along with her, greeting you with cocky grins and mocking waves whenever he would sit down opposite of you.

Not only were you forced to spend every lunch break with him, you also had to tolerate him during movie nights, parties and even worse, double dates.

You hated him more and more.

You thought that your boyfriend would take your side, joining in on the Steve Harrington hate train but oddly enough, they became friends.

Months went by and you had hoped that Nancy would realize what a douchebag King Steve is, leave his ass in the dust and find another boyfriend but she seemed happy and he did too.

Nancy and Steve were happy.

Jonathan and Steve got along.

Everyone got along, except for you and him. You hated him but god, you grew to love the fights and the bickering, you found entertainment in them. You loved pissing him off, loved teasing him, loved throwing mean words at him even when you knew that he would do the same and say something hurtful in return.

Yes, Steve Harrington got under your skin but you got under his too. It was clear, the way his cheeks turned red and his eyes flashed with anger, he would clench his jaw and his fists before he’d turn away from you.

“Tina is throwing a party this friday, are we going?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend and your best friend.

“Of course, we’re going,” Steve says.

You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him, “I wasn’t talking to you, Harrington.”

Jonathan sighs, mumbling your name in annoyance.

You ignored him, continuing to look into hazel eyes with a challenging look on your face.

“Bitch,” Steve mumbles.

“Steve!” Nancy exclaims, turning towards her boyfriend with wide eyes, “that wasn’t nice.”

“Aw,” he shrugs, throwing his arm around her shoulder, he turns back to you, giving you a small smirk, “I’m sorry, queen y/n.”

You scrunch your face up in annoyance, he knows you hate when people call you that.

Rolling your eyes, you reach for the fries on your boyfriend’s plate, throwing some at the man in front of you, “shut up, asshole.”

He dodges the fries, laughing when they hit some kid behind him.

“Are you gonna wear one of those ugly leather jackets again?” He asks you, “they make you look cheap, y/n.”

A laugh falls from your lips, you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, “at least I don’t let my mom buy my clothes,” you say as your eyes trail down his shirt, “seriously, have you ever stepped foot inside a store yourself? Your mommy still dresses you up like you’re some innocent little virgin.”

His smile falls and he scoffs at you, “I’m not a virgin.”

“I know, you’re a whore in virgin’s clothes.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, “seriously?” He snorts, “you wanna call me a whore now?”

You are both so caught up in each other, you don’t notice the stolen glances between your boyfriend and his girlfriend, the longing gazes, the forbidden touches between the table as they reach for the other’s hand.

If you paid more attention, you would have noticed it a long time ago already but you were focused on other things.

Jonathan was a loving and sweet boyfriend, you had no reason not to trust him.

If you would’ve just known..

“Are we gonna go to the movies tonight?” You ask as you finally turn away from Steve and look at your boyfriend, smiling at him, you’re unable to see the guilt in his eyes.

He blinks, coughing nervously.

Nancy looks down at her food tray, pushing around the salad she hasn’t touched, her cheeks are red, her brows are furrowed.

You don’t notice how weird they are both being but Steve does, it is something he hasn’t noticed before but feels like it’s always been there, the tension in Jonathan’s shoulders, the distant look in his eyes, the furrowed brows as he looks down at you.

“Uh, shit, I-I no, I forgot to tell you, I’m taking Will to the record store tonight and he asked for a movie night,” he explains.

Steve expects you to frown at his words, sigh sadly and mumble a quiet ‘oh’ but instead your eyes light up and you grab Jonathan’s shoulder, “oh! Can I come with you?” You ask excitedly. Steve might not know much about you except for the very obvious things but he knows how much you love spending time with Will.

“We just wanna have a boys night, next time, alright?”

Now your smile falls, only for just a second but Steve sees it, he sees the disappointment in your eyes, the one you quickly mask with a pretentious smile, “oh that’s fine, umm I hope you’re going to have lots of fun,” you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek, he gives you a smile, one that doesn’t even reach his eyes. You lay your head on his shoulder, linking your arm with him.

A weird feeling settles in the pit of Steve’s stomach, he leans back and stares at the man in front of him, he sees the way his eyes meet Nancy’s blue ones, it just for a split second but he sees it.

A few months ago, he wouldn’t question it. He never had a problem with their friendship, Jonathan was her friend before he became her boyfriend and you never had a problem with their friendship either, you trusted them.

Maybe you shouldn’t have.

Steve doesn’t know why but he can’t shake the feeling that something is off, that things have been off for a long time now. He tells himself that he is overthinking things, that he lets his anxious thoughts get the best of him but they had only gotten worse when Nancy canceled their date after he had dropped her off at home, he was excited to take her out, he had it all planned, he would take her to dinner and movies and afterwards they’d watch the stars at lovers lake but instead he was left in the cold after she told him that she couldn’t go out with him because she had to help Mike with his homework. Mike, who was here at Benny’s diner with Will, Dustin and Lucas.

“What the fuck,” he mumbles as he stands there, staring at them with a dumbfound expression on his face.

Mike was clearly not in need of help for his homework and Will didn’t seem to have plans for a movie night any time soon. Someone drove them here but it wasn’t Jonathan, no, it was Eddie Munson who jumped into the empty seat next to Dustin as he held some book in his hand.

Slowly he started piecing everything together and as he thought of all the times Nancy had canceled their dates at the same time as Jonathan had canceled yours, his stomach dropped. Those weird looks both of them shared earlier today just added to his worry.

He forgot about the order he had placed and rushed out of the diner, ignoring the waitress who called for him when she held the bag and a drink in her hand. His mind was running wild as the worst scenarios rushed through his thoughts.

He doesn’t even remember how he got into the car or how he drove all the way to the Wheeler’s house. His heart was racing and his hands were clenched into fists, he was nervous and the anger inside of him was already building up.

He had suspicions but he didn’t want to dwell on them, not yet. But when he climbed up the wall to his girlfriend’s window, hoping to find her studying or listening to music, he didn’t find her doing any of those things. Instead, he caught her having sex with your boyfriend.

He grips the wall tighter when he almost loses his footing. He can’t even stop the gasp from escaping as his eyes widen.

His girlfriend is having sex with your boyfriend.

Nancy is fucking Jonathan, Nancy who is your best friend.

He stares in shock, frozen in place and with a broken heart he stares at them. Jonathan’s hands are on her waist, gripping her tightly as she bounces on his cock. She bites her lip to stay quiet.

The bile rises in his throat, he feels sick, he feels betrayed and angry.

He turns away and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before he jumps down into the grass. He almost throws up into Karen’s beloved flowers but he holds himself together, at least for now.

Tears brim in his eyes, he doesn’t understand.

Why would she do this to him?

Why would she hurt him like this?

Why would she cheat on him?

Why would she do this to you?

You have always been her best friend, you grew up together, your mom’s are best friends. You have always been by her side, you have done everything for her. You could’ve chosen other friends, you could’ve been friends with other popular girls like Chrissy Cunningham but no, you stayed friends with Nancy.

And Jonathan… Now, Steve had become friends with him when he started dating her and thought that Jonathan was actually a pretty decent guy but before that, he had always wondered why you even gave him the time of your day. You are the popular and annoyingly happy cheerleader and he is just, well, he is Jonathan. The boring freak. But then again, rumor has it that you have always liked to associate with men who weren’t anywhere near your league and apparently you liked to fuck freaks, that’s something that Steve could never believe. You were a good girl, you had that innocence in your eyes that told him that rumors were just rumors.

For some time, Steve thought that you were playing a prank on Jonathan, that you dated him for a bet but when a year had passed and you still looked at him with those stupid heart eyes, he knew you were serious about him.

Now he feels like throwing up, he isn’t just angry for himself, he is also angry for you. If the betrayal hurt him so much, what would it do to you?

The moment he steps into his bathroom, he drops to his knees and pukes his lunch out.

God, he has never felt this sick in his life before. How will he ever move on from this?

He loves her with all his heart but he is so incredibly angry and hurt. He spends the rest of the night crying, unable to catch a moment of peace. He stares at the ceiling as he lays in his lonely bed, tears stream down his face as his mind replays the horrible things he had seen.

What should he do?

Should he confront them? Should he break up with her? Should he make a scene and humiliate them in front of the whole school? No, he is not like that and he wouldn’t do this to you.

He doesn’t know what to do. So he pretends that everything is fine.

He takes a shower, styles his hair and picks out an outfit that you won’t tease him for. He drinks his coffee and then he picks up Nancy but the moment he lays his eyes on her and she gives him that cheerful smile and kiss on the lips, he feels himself growing sick again. How could she pretend that nothing happened? How could she kiss him like this when her lips touched his last night?

The anger diminished a little only to rush back even more intensely when he was forced to greet Jonathan at school. God, he wants to punch him so hard, he has to restrain himself from doing so. Especially when he lays eyes on you. A big smile is resting on your face, your eyes are shining with happiness, your perfect ponytail is bouncing as you rush through the hallways with your pretty little cheerleader uniform. You wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s waist and lay your head on his back, “hi babe, I missed you so much last night.”

“I missed you too, y/n,” Jonathan says as he smiles, placing his hand over yours.

Steve grows hatred for the man and for his girlfriend when he feels her squeezing his hand.

He can’t even stop the scoff before it falls from his lips, causing all three of you to look at him in confusion.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks, feigning concern.

He nods.

You raise your eyebrows at him, a cocky smirk tugging at your lips, “ooh, did someone had a rough night?”

Yes and you’d be having one too if you knew that your boyfriend was buried in my girlfriend last night, Steve thinks to himself.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he shuts his locker and turns away from the three of you, “I gotta go to class,” he mumbles without giving Nancy a goodbye kiss or Jonathan a pat on the back the way he always does. He bumps into someone, not bothering to apologize, he grumpily mutters something under his breath.

“Who pissed in his coffee this morning?” You chuckle, missing the way Nancy and Jonathan looked at each other.

“I- he probably got into a fight with his dad again,” Nancy says, shrugging nervously.

You step away from Jonathan, walking towards your best friend, you take her hand in yours, “is everything alright between the two of you?”

She blinks, looking over your shoulder and back to you, she nods, “y-yeah, totally,” she smiles, shaking her head.

“Okay, good,” you smile, squeezing her hand, “but I’m always here for you and you can talk to me, okay?”

She looks down, nodding at your words, “yeah, I know.”

“Alright, well, I think we should go shopping after school, I need some new party outfits.”

“Oh, I-I can’t, y/n. I already have an outfit and I was supposed to look after Holly today.”

You frown at her words, a sad look flashes in her eyes.

“You are a busy girl, Nancy Wheeler.”

Steve was being weird, well, he was always being weird but something about him today was just off. Not only did he pay no mind to you, he also ignored Jonathan and Nancy.

No comments were thrown your way today, no mean words, no remarks, he didn’t tease you or even glare at you. Nothing. You saw him talking to Robin Buckley when you were on your way to the bathroom. He looked like was on the verge of tears and the girl comforted him with a hand on his shoulder and words you couldn’t make out.

Seeing him like this makes you feel weird, you don’t really care about him but you care about your friend and there’s clearly something going on between them and you are certain about that when you sit down beside Jonathan in the cafeteria. Just like yesterday, you sit across from Steve but instead of meeting his teasing eyes, you meet his angry ones, though you feel that the anger isn’t directed at you but at someone else.

You try to ignore him and the way his gaze seems to be getting more and more intense. He watches you and Jonathan, a frown deep in his features as he watches how your boyfriend kisses you like nothing ever happened.

You don’t know.

You don’t know what he is doing behind your back.

You don’t know that he is hurting you, that he is cheating on you with your best friend.

How long have they been going behind your backs?

Has this been happening when you were all together at parties? When you went to the lakehouse his dad owns? God, he could scream and expose their disgusting secrets to the whole school.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Nancy asks as she puts her hand on Steve’s thigh. He tenses up, clenching his jaw as he turns to look at her.

“No, I’m not hungry, Nancy.”

Your eyes flash with surprise, the tone in his voice was filled with anger.

She looks taken aback, furrowing her brows at her boyfriend’s behavior, “you barely touched your food–”

“I said I’m not hungry!” He snaps at her.

Before any of you can even react, he gets up and storms out of the cafeteria, not caring about the prying eyes of the other students.

You frown at his behavior, growing angry when you see the tears in Nancy’s eyes.

“That asshole,” you mumble, getting up, you follow him out, ignoring Jonathan’s and Nancy’s calls.

You slam the doors to the hallway open, rushing towards him with anger in your bones.

“Steve!”

He keeps walking, ignoring you.

“Hey!”

He abruptly turns around, throwing his hands up, he sighs, “what!?”

“What?” You scoff, “what the fuck was that? Why are you being so mean?”

He laughs at your words, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.

“She didn’t do anything to you, Steve.”

“If only you knew.”

Something about the way he said it and looked at you, sent shivers down your spine.

Instead of the usual hatred and anger you see in his eyes, you find empathy in them. Why? It makes you nervous.

“W-What do you mean?” You ask.

Steve knows that you won’t believe him, you gotta see it with your own eyes, you don’t deserve this. You love Jonathan, you have always been good to him. You deserve better and he knows he does too.

“Steve,” you mumble, “what do you mean?”

You have got to know. You’re a smart girl, you should’ve noticed the way your best friend and boyfriend behaved around you, the way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other.

Right now, he doesn’t hate you, he just feels sorry for you.

“Go to Nancy’s house this afternoon.”

“No, she– Steve!”

He walks away before giving you an explanation, leaving you standing there like a fool.

What is this about?

Usually, you would never listen to him, you wouldn’t do what he had told you to do. You wouldn’t go to Nancy’s house if you didn’t have your own suspicions already, the ones that made you feel sick for the longest time.

His seriousness and his anger is what made you feel scared.

He wasn’t mean to you today, he didn’t even glare at you, that’s how you knew that something was very off.

So you listened to him, you went to Nancy’s house. You didn’t want to but on the way home from the mall, you drove by her house and found Jonathan’s car in the driveway.

Nothing weird about it right? They are friends, they are allowed to be friends.

Yet, you can’t shake that awful feeling that something horrible is about to happen. So you park the car and make your way inside her house, using the spare key that she gave you years ago.

The house is empty, Karen isn’t there and neither is Ted. Holly and Mike are nowhere to be seen. You don’t call out for Nancy the way you usually would. With a nervous sigh, you grip the keys tighter in your hand and climb up the stairs.

You hear music coming from her room, The Cure. Nancy doesn’t listen to The Cure but your boyfriend does. You hear the noises, you hear them.

With a shaky hand, you open the door and as you lay eyes on the two of them, your heart drops and a gasp falls from your lips as you raise your hand to cup your mouth.

There he is, your boyfriend, shoving his tongue down your best friend’s throat. Both of them are half naked, her chest is covered in hickeys already, his hair is a mess, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths as she moves her hand into his pants.

“What the fuck?”

They jump apart when they hear your voice, staring at each other like deers caught in headlights before they look at you.

Her blue eyes widen as do his.

No longer do their cheeks glow red, instead they look pale when they see you standing there with tears in your eyes and anger on your face.

“Fuck– y/n!” He scrambles to his feet, trying to find his shirt.

Nancy looks away from you, crossing her arms over her chest, she suddenly feels too ashamed to meet your eyes.

“You are fucking disgusting,” you mumble angrily, ignoring the heartbreak in your chest or the feeling of your throat getting tighter. The tears begin to spill and you look between them in shock.

Jonathan takes a step towards you.

“Don’t come anywhere near me, Byers. We’re fucking over!”

His eyes widen, his lips part as he tries to speak but no words leave his mouth.

“And you, fuck you, Nancy.”

You don’t care to look back at them, rushing out of the house as quickly as you came. You wipe away the angry tears, biting down on your quivering lip as you get back in your car.

You knew it. You’re no fool. You knew it. You just made yourself believe that you didn’t but deep down you always knew. Who were you trying to fool? It was so clear.

Can you even feel heartbroken? You set yourself up for it when you started dating the guy who always saw her.

Maybe Steve should’ve told you, maybe he shouldn’t have told you to go to her place, maybe he should’ve protected you from seeing that. But did he have a choice? You hate him, you wouldn’t have believed him, you would’ve scoffed at him and laughed in his face.

But still, he should’ve told you.

He shouldn’t have let you see that.

Now he feels guilty for it, despite the ache in his chest and the betrayal he still tries to deal with, he feels guilty for not telling you.

You are pretending to be fine when you’re not.

You didn’t come to school on Wednesday, Thursday or today but here you are at Tina’s party, dressed in the skimpiest outfit you could find, throwing back one drink after the other, yet you don’t seem to be getting drunk but it’s only as he notices you pouring yourself coke instead of alcohol that he realizes you aren’t here to get drunk.

You are here because you don’t want to be alone, just like him. He had a feeling that you would come, that was another reason why he came.

The loud music is hurting his ears and the whiskey is starting to give him a headache. He places his drink on a small table. Running his hand through his messy hair, he pushes past a group of girls who begin to whisper behind his back. Nancy’s and Jonathan’s name falling from their lips. He decides to ignore it.

His focus is on something else, you. You’re standing by the punch with Heather Holloway, giggling about something she had whispered in your ear.

Should he talk to you?

You down the rest of your drink and place the cup on the counter, gesturing to the stairs as you leave your friend. He decides to follow you and calls your name.

You turn around, smile disappearing from your face when your eyes lock with his, an eye roll and a scoff is all he gets.

He rolls his eyes too, what else did he expect, a hug?

“Can we talk?” He has to yell for you to understand him.

You only shake your head and continue your way up the stairs.

“Please?”

Once you stop in front of a door, you turn around and look up at him, “no.” You slam the door in his face, causing him to sigh.

He leans against the wall, deciding to wait for you.

What does he even want to say to you? Does he even want to say anything to you?

When you walk back out, he doesn’t even give you a chance, he takes your hand in his, ignoring your protests or your light slap to his back.

“Let go of me, Harrington!”

“Nope,” he mumbles as he pulls you into an empty and dark room, he pushes against the wall before he turns to close and lock the door, leaving you in complete darkness.

“What the hell do you want from me?”

Steve frowns.

“Shit, hold on,” he mumbles, “I can’t find the light switch.”

“Seriously?”

You can hear him moving around, cursing under his breath. Maybe it would’ve been funny under different circumstances, if you were locked in a room with someone other than King Steve.

“Got it,” he mumbles as he turns on the lights.

Your arms are crossed and a frown is on your face, lips set in a pout.

“I uh– I heard you broke up with Jonathan?”

You squint your eyes, “that’s what you wanna talk about? What the fuck do you really want?”

“I should’ve told you, I shouldn’t have sent you there,” he admits in guilt, giving you a sad look.

You scoff at his words, rolling your eyes, “yeah right, you want me to believe that, Steve?”

“It’s the truth, I’m very sorry,” he says, “about everything. You don’t deserve this, they’re fucking assholes for doing– for you know–”

“For cheating on us?”

He glances at you and for the first time he sees something other than hatred, empathy, you feel for him just like he feels for you but it’s obvious that you still don’t like him.

“I-I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you,” he mumbles, “she’s been your best friend since you were kids and he–”

“Fuck them both,” you mumble, rolling your eyes.

You are in denial about your feelings, pretending to be fine so you don’t have to confront your pain. He can see it in your eyes though, the pain they left behind.

“When did you find out?” You ask.

“The day before you did. I went to the diner and saw Will and Mike there and I knew that they both lied, I went to her house and.. yeah.” He can’t bring himself to say it, he doesn’t have to. You know it.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

He looks confused almost, shaking his head slightly, “you wouldn’t have believed me?”

“You expect me to believe that that’s the reason why you didn’t just tell me?”

“That is the reason!”

You walk closer to him as tears well up in your eyes, “fuck you, Steve Harrington! Fuck you. You sent me there to taunt me! I know you caught them and you wanted me to catch them too, you wanted me to feel what you felt, you wanted me to suffer, you’re a fucking dick, Steve! I hate you!”

His eyes flash with anger, he scoffs at you, clenching his jaw.

“Go on, let it all out.” He nods.

He might not know as well as your friends do but he can tell that you were pushing the pain back, you refused to cry over a man who cheated on you and over a best friend who betrayed you in the most hurtful way.

You are dealing with your emotions by using him as a punching bag and he doesn’t like it, so he decides to do something else.

“Y-You are such a–” He cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips against yours, he kisses you roughly.

Your eyes widen and you squeal in surprise.

What the fuck?

Steve Harrington is kissing you.

He is kissing you and you fucking like it. Your life couldn’t have been more of a mess. First your boyfriend cheats on you with your best friend that he dated and now he is kissing you. He is supposed to hate you, he is supposed to be horrible to you but instead he is kissing you in a way you have never been kissed before.

Fuck it.

His lips tastes like cheery coke and he smells so fucking good.

You throw your arms around his shoulders and close your eyes as you kiss him back. He moans against you, the sound shoots straight to your core. You move your hand into his hair, gripping it and pulling his perfectly styled hair.

His hands slide down to your waist and he pushes you further into the room without breaking the kiss that grows heavier by the second. He grabs your ass, squeezing it tightly with his large hands, earning a moan from you. Steve smirks against your lips as he presses himself against you.

“S-Steve,” you whimper as you break the kiss, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You ask the man you are supposed to hate.

He presses another kiss to your lips before he pulls away, staring at you with his hazel eyes that hold both pain and anger, “why do they get to have all the fun?”

You swallow nervously, you hate him, you hate him so much and yet you find yourself longing for him, for his touch, for his lips.

He leans in again but you push him back weakly.

“No,” you whisper, “I hate you.”

“Yeah?” He rasps against your lips, “feeling’s mutual, honey. That’s okay, we don’t have to like each other, right?”

You blink, shrugging, your eyes flicker down to his lips, “I-I guess not.”

“You can mark me up, show her who fucked me,” he tells you as he pushes you down onto the soft bed, playing with the hem of your skirt, “you can let your anger out on me, I don’t mind.”

“You really wanna fuck me?” You ask as you chase after his lips, kissing them almost a little too softly.

“Fuck yes, I do,” he murmurs as he latches his lips onto your neck, spreading your legs so he can settle in between them, “I wanna rip your skimpy little clothes off, make you scream my name.”

His lips are soft yet rough as he marks your neck, he sucks and bites on your skin, squeezing your waist tightly with his hands as he grinds his clothed dick against your aching cunt.

“What makes you think that I’ll scream your name?” You ask, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows as you moan at the feeling of him. God, you can already tell that he is big.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he says in a way that sends shivers down your spine, your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Do it then because he never could.”

A smirk grows on his face.

“You wanna fuck me to get back at him?” You ask, “do it then.”

Before you know it, he rips your top off, throwing it over his shoulder before your bra joins it on the floor. Lust fills his eyes and his cheeks flush red when he sees your nipple piercings, “holy fuck,” he mumbles, staring at you with a dumbfound expression as he grabs your boobs, touching your sensitive nipples with his fingers, “shit… the good little cheerleader has her nipples pierced?”

You look up at him with a pleading look in your eyes, moaning as he continues to roll your nipples. You grab his hand, bringing it up to your face, you wrap your lips around his thumb and begin to suck on it.

His eyes widen yet again, pants growing tighter as his cock hardens in his tight jeans.

“Fuck, you’re a little freak aren’t you?” He smirks darkly, “Byers couldn’t handle all of that, huh? Guess he wasn’t the freak after all, it was you.”

He really couldn’t. It was only ever lazy sex with him, sloppy blowjobs and making love. You didn’t want to make love, you wanted to be fucked like a whore.

You shake your head at him and spread your legs, letting your skirt slide up.

“Shut up and fuck me before I find someone else.”

“Shit,” he mumbles as his eyes fall on your lacy red underwear, your already soaked underwear, it makes his dick twitch in his pants.

“You shut up, princess. I’m not letting anyone fuck you, you’re mine tonight.”

He drops to his knees in front of you, grabbing your ankles, he slides his hand up to your thigh, teasing you by rubbing your clit over your panties.

“Look at you, your panties are soaked,” he teases, smirking at the way you bite your lip to stop the moans from falling. He grabs the thin material, ripping it off and throwing it on the ground.

Your eyes widen and you lean on your elbows, staring at him with a disapproving look on your face. The panties that you had bought a few days ago are now on the floor, ripped apart.

“Steve–”

He presses a teasing kiss on your clit, smirking when you whine at his action.

“You’re so fucking wet, honey. Is that all for me? I thought you hated me.”

“God, fucking shut up and d–” He cuts you off, gripping your hips tighter, he licks up stripe up your pussy, moaning at your taste, “you shut up,” he mumbles before he buries his face in your cunt. Nudging his nose against your aching clit as he slips his tongue inside of you.

“Oh my god,” you whimper as you slap your hand over your mouth, not wanting to give the satisfaction that he is making you moan.

He grunts against you, sliding his hand up your body, he cups your boob and tugs at your nipple, earning a gasp from you.

“Steve!”

“Hand off your mouth, y/n,” he says, glaring at you with dark eyes, “let me hear your moans.”

You roll your eyes and put your hand down.

“Good girl.” He mumbles, eyes twinkling with mischief when he sees your flustered expression, he feels you clench around his fingers as he pushes two inside of you, “fuck, you’re tight, how am I gonna fit inside of you?”

His words cause you to roll your eyes again, he will never stop being cocky.

Moans and whimpers echo through the room when he begins to eat you out, switching his fingers with his tongue as he grabs your ass and holds you even tighter than before when you begin to squirm beneath him.

You reach down, gripping his hair and pulling at it.

“F-Fuck, Steve….” You whine. Tears blur your vision, your muscles tense and your back arches in pleasure, “d-don’t stop, Steve, please don’t stop,” you breathe as you feel his tongue on your clit again and his fingers back in your pussy.

He moans against you, mumbling praises you cannot focus on.

King Steve is eating your pussy like his life is depending on it and he moans like a slut while doing so. Palming himself as he tastes you on his tongue and listens to you falling apart for him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as you hold his hair tighter, “please, I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You wanna cum for me? Do it, honey, do it.”

You let go, pushing away all the thoughts that are telling you how wrong this is, you cum hard and he moans and continues to lick you, his eyes roll back, he enjoys every fucking second of this.

“I haven’t even fucked you and your legs are already shaking.”

You open your eyes to look at him, your chest rises up and down heavily, sweat coating your forehead already, you swallow, pushing yourself up, you get on your hands and knees and crawl towards him, watching as he takes his shirt off. You grab him by his belt and pull him in.

You look up at him through hooded eyes, your hair is a mess, your skin is hot, you’re half naked, the only item left on you is your skimpy little skirt, he wants to fuck you while you are wearing it.

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask, sliding your hand up his body, “I love sucking cock.”

His eyes widen and he almost chokes on his spit, how can you look at him so innocently and speak such filthy words?

“I-I… huh?”

Nancy was different, sure she sucked him off but she didn’t really seem to be excited to do it, you though? You want it, for your own pleasure.

“You love sucking cocks?”

The look on his face almost makes you giggle, almost.

“Mhmm.”

“How many cocks have you sucked before?” He asks in curiosity.

You unbuckle his belt slowly, eying all the moles on his skin, his chest hair, his toned arms, the growing mustache. Steve is hot. Has he always been this hot?

“Take your pants off, Steve.”

“Answer the question first and then I’ll take them off.”

You roll your eyes.

“Before Jonathan? Just two.”

“Oh, who was it?”

“Take your pants off and I’ll tell you.”

He takes them off instantly, kicking his shoes off and throwing his pants somewhere.

“Well the first guy… you don’t know him, I met him when I went to visit a friend in Chicago,” you shrug.

He raises his brows, nodding, “the second guy?”

A smirk grows on your face, you lick your lips and place your hand on his dick, rubbing your palm over his boxers. He shudders, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he moans.

“Eddie Munson.”

His eyes widen at your admission, lips parting in surprise, “w-what? Eddie Munson, th-the f–”

“Yes, Eddie Munson!” You snap, not letting him finish the sentence. “I sucked him off in the bathroom after lunch break, Jason Carver was being mean to him and I felt bad for him.”

“So you cheered him up by sucking his dick?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he's jealous.

“Yeah, I mean who wouldn’t want to get his dick sucked by the head cheerleader?” You giggle, “he really liked it, came back for more.”

“And then what?”

You lean closer and kiss his hip bone and his stomach, trailing your lips up to his chest until you're kneeling on the bed in front of him, placing your hand on his chest and your lips on his neck, you kiss his neck the way he did to you earlier.

“He fucked me in his van, in the bathroom at school, in the janitor’s closet, behind the bleachers, he fucked me hard.”

Steve moans, he feels your cold piercing against his skin, his hand slide down to your waist.

“I bet you can’t fuck me the way he did.” You murmur as you lean back down again, tugging at his boxers, you slide them down his legs and you gasp. His cock slaps against his stomach, pre cum leaking from his tip.

“Oh.” Is all you manage to say as you stare at his cock. Suddenly you look intimidated, your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen, “t-that’s not gonna fit.”

Steve chuckles darkly, gripping your jaw, he caresses your cheek, “oh, we’ll make it fit, honey.”

“You still wanna suck it?” He asks.

You nod, whining when he puts his hand on your head, guiding you towards him.

“It’s all yours.”

You wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, stroking him a few times before you begin to tease him with your tongue, swirling it around the tip, you close your eyes and enjoy the sound of his moans.

“O-Oh fuck,” he murmurs. Gripping your hair tightly, he looks down at you, watching as you take more of him, his cock disappearing in your mouth, inch by inch until it hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus fuck….”

“Mhmmm,” you moan around him, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to suck him off.

“Shit, stop…” He whines, tugging at your hair, “I’m not gonna last if you do that, I-I need to cum inside of you.”

You don’t listen to him, instead you continue to suck him off eagerly, moaning and whimpering in pleasure, you arch your back, cupping his balls–

“Fuck!” He whimpers, basically shoving you off of him, “you little slut, I said I’m not gonna last.”

You pout at him, “but I want to taste you too.”

He stares at you bewildered. What the fuck? He never thought you would be like this but god, does he love it.

“Later,” he says as he pushes you down and crawls on top of you, cupping your cheeks, his nose brushes against yours, “taste yourself instead,” he smirks before he kisses you again.

The kiss is nothing near soft, it’s rough and needy. Your teeth clash, your tongues meet and you both moan and groan desperately. He pushes your skirt up higher, wrapping your legs around his waist, he takes his aching cock in his hand, sliding it between your slick folds, causing you both to moan.

“Please, please… Fuck me, Steve. Make me feel something, please.”

You beg and you plead, you arch your back and you pull him closer. He looks at you, truly looks at you for the first time. You’re beautiful, pretty, cute. You’re cute, even as you lay there looking up at him like a needy whore. He furrows his brows, watching the way your lips part, your pretty eyes staring into his, your soft hand touches his shoulder.

What is he doing?

What has he been doing all this time?

“I got you, fuck, I got you.”

He concentrates on you, on the look on your face as he pushes inside of you for the very first time.

You whine and you bit your lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. You raise your head, looking down, you watch how his cock disappears in your pussy. Tears spring to your eyes as he stretches you open.

“Poor baby, can’t take my big cock huh?” He teases with a smirk on his face that quickly falls again when you clench around him, causing him to stop moving, “f-fuck.”

“Keep moving, Steve, please.”

He leans down, burying his face in your neck, he finally pushes all the way in. He says your name so filthily, it only makes you clench around him again.

He curses at you as he begins to move, pushing himself back up again, he places both his hands beside you.

“Pound my pussy, Steve, ruin me.”

He smirks at your words and pulls out, looking down to see his glistening cock pushing back into your tight hole again. It makes his stomach flutter.

“Such a good fucking pussy.”

“Mhmm, you’re big, biggest cock I've ever had.”

He only gives you a cocky grin in return. He knows he’s big.

He grabs your boobs roughly and finally, he begins to fuck you like you wanted him too.

“Ah– Steve, fuck… don’t stop!”

He begins to pound your pussy in the most disrespectful way possible, squelching noises and your whines echo through the room. He watches your fucked out expression, he watches the way your pretty face scrunches up in pleasure, the way your screw your eyes shut. All you can do is moan and whimper and all he can do is stare at you in awe.

He presses his hand on your lower stomach, pushing down on it, “you feel me, baby?” He asks, kissing your lips, “you feel my cock inside of you?”

You nod, whimpering pathetically.

You feel him, you feel him everywhere. His cock is splitting you open so perfectly, fucking you in a way only a man can.

“Byers is a fucking idiot, stupid boy doesn’t know how to handle a woman,” he grunts as he thrusts into your roughly, “he’s fucking missing out. Shit baby, you’ve got the most perfect little pussy, so fucking tight and wet for me.”

“S-Steve…”

“I’m gonna fucking cum inside of you, gonna breed that little pussy and make you mine, gonna fill you up with my cum, over and over again until you’re f-fucking pregnant, gonna show those fuckers what they missed.”

“P-Please,” you moan.

“You’d like that huh? You’d love to get pregnant by the guy you hate?”

“Mhmm,” you whine, you reach for his hands, dragging them up to your neck, “choke me, daddy.”

His eyes widen and he fucking whimpers, his dick is throbbing inside of you and you know he is close.

“God, you’re fucking filthy,” he grunts, wrapping his hands around your throat, “call me that again.”

“Daddy.”

He fucks you harder, rougher, faster and deeper. He wants you, he needs you. He is desperate for you.

You put your hands around his wrists, looking up at him through the tears, “harder.”

He gives you what you want, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You move your hips, meeting his thrusts. Tears stream down your face and you can no longer hold the sobs in.

“Cum inside of me, Steve.”

Your walls flutter around him and his hold on you tightens, “y-you really want me to cum inside of you–”

“Please, I need it!”

His hips stutter and he can no longer hold back, he slams his lips against yours, moving one hand down, his fingers graze your sensitive nipples for a moment, he touches your stomach, your hips and then his fingertips find your clit, rubbing fast circles on it. He listens to the way your moans grow high pitched as you cum around him.

“I’m cumming, f-fuck,” he murmurs against your lips as he spills inside of you, coating your walls with his seed.

You both whimper in pleasure. He continues to thrust in and out of you slowly, for a moment and then he slumps against you, letting go of your throat and letting his face fall against your chest, his throbbing cock still inside of you.

You both need a moment to calm down from this.

Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t push off of you and pretend like nothing happened. He just continues to lay there, on your chest, tracing your skin with his rough hands.

And you, you play with his hair, not a single thought of your ex boyfriend or your best friend. All you think about is Steve. How good he made you feel, how pretty he looked when he ate your pussy, how he kissed you, how he smells.

“I think you almost fucked the hate I have for you out of me.”

He snorts at you, “wow, very romantic.”

“Oh we’re being romantic now?”

He looks up at you, “I mean, I’m still inside of you and you are playing with my hair so yeah.”

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes but are unable to fight the smile off your face.

He grins, “no one ever called me daddy.”

“Someone else will call you daddy in 9 months if you don’t get me the morning after pill.”

You almost expect him to grow pale but instead he laughs nervously.

“Babies can’t talk, honey.”

“Huh?”

“You said in 9 months, are you telling me newborns can speak now?”

“I was joking!” You mumble.

“Mhmm, sure you were,” he chuckles.

For a moment, the room is filled with silence. All you hear is the sound of the music from the party, the laughter and the loud voices. The smell of sex lingers in the room, the smell of him lingers on you.

“You know what? I think we should’ve done that a long time ago,” Steve admits, “in fact I think we should do it again.”

You smirk at him, “to get back at them or because you just wanna be called daddy again?”

For a moment, his face grows serious and he finds himself staring at you longingly, “I just wanna do it again, not to get back at them, fuck them.”

“Let’s do it then,” you whisper, “but take me home first.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A week ago, you would’ve laughed if someone told you that this would happen. That you would break up with your cheating boyfriend, lose a best friend you had known since childhood and fuck the man you hated half of your life.

Yet here you are, letting Steve Harrington help you get dressed, letting him steal kisses, letting him slap your ass on the way out.

You walked into his room hating him and you walked out of here, well, hating him a little less.

You both got betrayed by people you loved, deeply. You lost them but at least you had found each other.

In a perfect world you would be together.

Maybe this can be a perfect world after all.

tagging some faves @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things angst #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine

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theemporium · 7 months

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[5k] luke hughes swore he would never tell another soul and take his confession to the grave. that ends as an epic fail as he tells a really pretty girl his most embarrassing secret. luckily for him, she seems pretty eager to help him out.

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It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it was. It really fucking was.

It wasn’t always a big deal. When he was in high school, everybody was just like him. Or at least, most people were. HIs friend group were. And they would always talk about how fun college would be, how everything would change, how everyone grew up and just did it.

And then he went to college and nothing really changed. It was a bit embarrassing, it made his cheeks burn bright red whenever he spoke about it. But it also wasn’t the most unbelievable thing. Between keeping his GPA up, his training regime and the countless games during the season, it wasn’t shocking to anyone that he didn’t have as much free time as movies liked to make it seem like.

But then he moved up. He went from being a kid with a dream to actually living that dream and beyond. A joke from his childhood became a reality when he found himself on the ice with his older brother, wearing the same jersey as his older brother. Suddenly, it was all real and intense and he was in it properly.

But, fuck, it was embarrassing that he was in the National Hockey League and he was a fucking virgin.

In theory, he knew it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t change the way he played or his performance on the ice. It didn’t affect his professional life in any way, shape or form. But it still made him want to curl up in a corner and shrivel his existence away whenever he thought about it too long.

And it wasn’t like it was obvious. He wasn’t announcing it to the world and rambling on about it in interviews. But the amount of jokes people made about women throwing themselves at his feet or having a turnstile of people in his bed felt like he might as well be.

The awkward laughs and strained smiles would only take him so far before someone caught on.

And that might have been the worst part—the fact that nobody knew. Not his friends in high school nor the ones he made in college. None of his teammates. Not even his brothers (though, the idea of him even telling them whether or not he was a virgin was an experience he would like to avoid all together).

Nobody in the fucking world knew Luke Hughes was a virgin except him and, in a weird way, it was kind of fucking lonely.

Or at least, nobody else knew until he met you.

…

The night he met you had been a few days after the Devils had been kicked out of the playoffs.

Despite the loss, Nico wanted one last team celebration to sign off a good season. Because yes, it fucking sucked that they were knocked out and it sucked they wouldn’t be the ones to lift the Stanley Cup this year. But they still played well, they deserved to appreciate that, to appreciate each other.

And, on a more personal level, it was a chance to celebrate with the NHL team he could now call his home.

He was in the big leagues now. He was in the NHL and he was a professional hockey player and, by the power of some fucking superior being he did not know, he was lucky enough to share a team with at least one of his brothers.

It still felt like a dream.

And with that dream came the joys and perks of being a New Jersey Devil—like not being ID’d in the bar the team commonly visited.

“Takin’ it all in?”

He tore his eyes away from the surrounding bar to look at his brother, perched on the edge of the pool table Nathan and Kevin were currently competing on. He had been happy to just watch, observe—for lack of better terms—take it all in, like Jack assumed.

Instead, he just retorted with, “it’s a bar. Not much to take in that I haven’t seen before.”

“Okay, college boy,” Jack snorted, his cheeks flushed the same shade of red as the vodka cranberries he had been drinking all night. “I meant the big leagues.”

Luke resisted the urge to snort. “Ask me again in a year when it’s actually sunk in.”

Something in Jack’s face softened. “I’m glad you’re here, Moose.”

His throat felt a little tight but he still smiled. “Me too.”

He had assumed that was the end of the conversation, but that was Luke’s first mistake. He hadn’t paid much attention to the way Jack’s eyes roamed around the bar, narrowed like he was looking for something or, in this case, someone.

“What do ya think about her?”

Luke blinked, looking at his brother with a confused glance before he followed his line of vision to some blonde settled against the wall on the other side of the bar.

“What about her?”

Jack shot him a look. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

Luke hesitated, almost as though it was a trick question. “Yes?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t sound convinced,” he commented. “So, blonde isn’t your type. What is then? Brunettes? Redheads? Miscellaneous?”

“No, I—” Luke frowned. “I’m surprised you even know what miscellaneous means.”

Jack punched his arm in response.

“Why are you asking about my type?” Luke questioned, something that felt a lot like uncertainty bubbling in his stomach.

Jack let out a deep sigh, prolonging it to properly encapture his annoyance. “I’m trying to help you get laid, bud.”

Luke froze.

There was no way Jack could know. He knew that. He did. Logically, it was impossible for his brother to know he was a virgin when Luke had genuinely never admitted as much beyond the age of seventeen. But here he is, seemingly trying to find him someone to sleep with. There was no way he could know, there was no way Jack knew—

“I mean, you’re in the fucking league now, bud. Milk it a little, have some fun!” Jack continued, lost in his own rambles to even notice the way Luke’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I’m sure college was fun and all, but this is better!”

Luke tried to let out a laugh. “I think I’m alright for tonight.”

Jack huffed out in annoyance. “Don’t be a bore! Luke, you’re in the NHL. You just fucking played in the playoffs! Enjoy yourself, man.”

“I am enjoying myself,” Luke countered.

“You’ve been drinking the same beer since we got here,” Jack snapped back with a knowing look. “And I know it tastes like shit because I did the exact same thing when I first ordered a drink here. I’m trying to be your guru, help you avoid the mistakes I made.”

“My guru,” Luke repeated with a snort. “More like an unwanted Cupid.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “C’mon—”

“Focus on yourself.”

“It’s my duty as a brother—”

“I am not staying to listen to this,” Luke grumbled, batting away his brother’s hands as he began to make his way to the bar. As much as he hated to admit it, Jack was right—this beer tasted horrible and not even the tiny sips he had been taking were going to save it.

He settled himself on a free spot at the bar, his elbows placed on the slightly sticky countertop as he peered over to try find a bartender. He saw a few on the other side of the bar finishing off a few drinks and accepted the small wait, a little lost in his own thoughts and whether he wanted to try another drink instead of just settling for something non-alcoholic when a hand settled on his back.

“There you are, babe!”

Luke frowned, turning around to find you staring right back at him with a grin on your face. Honestly, he was expecting to turn around and let the person realise they had made a mistake. But your smile remained on your face, though the wide eyes staring back at him were a little distressing.

“Uh, I think you—” But he was cut off by another voice, a much deeper one this time.

“This is your boyfriend?”

The man was average height and fairly built, but that was all he had going for him. His shirt was definitely a size too small to make him look bigger and the chunky chain looked nothing short of tacky. And Luke may have been in his presence for less than thirty seconds, but the body spray was overwhelming and pungent and made him want to plug his nose.

Now, Luke may be a little slow but he isn’t dumb.

He may be deeply confused by the sudden promotion to boyfriend from a stranger but it didn’t take long for Luke to realise the wide, distressing eyes were a cry for help and the walking embodiment of Axe body spray in a tight shirt was the reason.

“Uh, yeah!” Luke cleared his throat a little, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders in the least awkward way he could possibly achieve. “She’s my girl! Uh, girlfriend! She’s my—” His cheeks burned but he couldn’t stop his mouth from moving. “She’s my babe!”

The man glanced between you and Luke for a few moments before rolling his eyes, muttering something under his breath about wasting his time before he disappeared into the throng of people crowded by the bar.

“What a dick,” you murmured and it almost made Luke jump when he remembered you were still beside him, that his arm was still around your shoulders. You turned around to look at him once you knew the other guy was gone, and your smile seemed softer now. “Thank you for that, really. You’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s no biggie,” Luke replied, cringing a little before he quickly continued. “Thanks for giving me the honour of being your fake boyfriend.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, you have a friendly face. You looked like you would go along with it.”

His cheeks burned warmer. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” you grinned before turning to settle in the spot next to him, fingers tapping on the bar counter. “Let me buy you a drink to thank you for your services?”

Luke began shaking his head. “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Please,” you insisted, a softer expression on your face. “It would make me feel better for dragging you into my scheme.”

“I—” He cleared his throat, hoping to some superior being that his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “O-Okay.”

Your grin widened. “Brilliant. What do you want?”

“A Coke.”

“Really?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, no judgement, just surprised,” you said, leaning over the bar to place your drink order along with his before you turned back to the boy. “So, do I at least get to know my fake boyfriend’s name?”

HIs lips twitched upwards. “Luke.”

“Luke,” you repeated before telling him your name, something gleaming in your eyes when you did. “So, Luke, what brings you to a bar on a Monday night to drink Coke?”

“I’m here with some work friends,” he lied easily, not really one to play the professional hockey player card (despite Trevor’s insistence that it was expected to be used for this reason exactly). “Just enjoying the night before we all head off for the summer.”

“Hm, here with your work buddies but staying sober and standing alone at a bar,” you mused. “You’re quite intriguing, Luke.”

“I think that’s a compliment,” he murmured with a frown.

“It is,” you assured him with a smile.

Luke opened his mouth to say something before the familiar voice of his brother reached him.

“LUKEY BOY IS GETTING SOME!”

He shut his eyes, muttering a list of curses under his breath before he finally looked at you with a sheepish expression. “I’m so sorry about him. Just ignore him, he’s a little drunk and—”

“Hey, it’s fine,” you assured him with a laugh. “Work buddy?”

“Mhm,” Luke confirmed with a nod. “And my older brother.”

“That sounds like an intense work environment,” you commented.

“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, but there was still a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t blame you for making a run for it now while you have the chance. Jack will only get worse.”

You waved him off, smiling. “Your brother isn’t scaring me off,” you assured him. “Plus, I said I was intrigued and I’m enjoying talking to you. Makes it seem a lot more believable that you’re my boyfriend if that other dude is lingering around.”

“Yeah, totally,” Luke agreed, something warm bursting in his stomach at the fact you wanted to keep talking to him.

And despite what Jack and the others assume, nothing more happened between the two of you than just talking. It was bittersweet, in a way. Because Luke really enjoyed talking to you that night, even if he knew he would probably never see you again.

But it was nice and it replayed in his head a lot more than he cared to admit that summer.

…

He assumed it was guaranteed that he would never see you again.

So, it was pretty shocking when he did, in fact, see you again at a house party held by one of the boys of all fucking places in the pre-season.

As the new season approached and the overwhelming realisation that he was about to enter his rookie season of the NHL hit him, Luke didn’t even hesitate to accept the invitation for the ‘small get together’ with the boys. These were his teammates, these were the people he was going to have to trust and navigate on the ice with. It seemed like a nice idea to have a few chilled hangouts whilst training dragged everyone back to New Jersey.

What Jack and everyone else had failed to mention was the fact a ‘small get together’ did not just mean the team like he assumed. It meant a house full of people that Luke certainly didn’t know or recognise, but seemed to know exactly who he was.

He was only slightly ashamed to admit that he clung onto Jack’s side as long as he could. But his brother was a social butterfly who liked to jump between different crowds and it was too much for Luke. Instead, he had settled near a couch where John and Kevin had been rambling away to each other when Jack suddenly appeared—out of thin air—with a huge grin on his face.

“Hey, Rusty, is that not your girl from the bar?”

Luke’s brows furrowed together in confusion. “Huh?”

But Jack didn’t say much, just nudging his little brother to look over his shoulder. His lips parted again, prepared to tell Jack that he was drunker than he expected him to be after a few beers, only to find the words stuck in the back of his throat when he turned around and saw you.

He had thought about you more than he cared to admit over the summer. Just random little flashes of the conversations you shared. It was stupid, and a little pathetic, but you just felt…different—in the least cliche way possible.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly his cheeks just heated at the sight of you.

No, correction: it was really fucking embarrassing.

“Aw, did Lukey invite his lil’ crush?” Jack teased, reaching out to mockingly pinch his cheeks but Luke batted his hand away just in time.

“Shut up,” he grumbled before clearing his throat, turning to faze his brother again. “I didn’t. I–I don’t even know why she is here.”

Jack shot him a look. “Go on, then.”

Luke frowned. “What?”

“You are actually clueless,” Jack grumbled under his breath before giving him a hearty shove. “Go talk to her!”

His eyes widened. “What?!”

“Go talk to her,” Jack repeated, not understanding the panic in his younger brother. “You guys were hitting it off at the bar, what’s the big deal? Maybe you can hook up with her again.”

“I—” He started before realising this was not the time to delve into the same argument they had had since the night at the bar. “It’s fine, she probably doesn’t even remember me.”

His brother scoffed. “You’re shitting me, right?”

Luke blinked. “No?”

“Dude, she was all over you!” Jack insisted, giving him another shove that had him stumbling slightly. “Go!”

Luke could feel his cheeks heating up. “Jack—”

“It’s my big brother duty to help you!”

Shove.

“Jack, fuck off. It’s not gonna happen.”

Shove.

“Yes, it will. Stop being a coward.”

Shove.

“Can you stop? I am not—”

Shove.

“Go talk to her!”

Shove.

“No—”

Except, the little shoves and lack of balance with the drinks he had been nursing through the night seemed to catch up on Luke. He stumbled back, his footing gone and his free hand reaching out to grasp Jack or something to stop him from falling. But it was too late. He was stumbling and his drink was sloshing and it went all over—

You.

It went all over you because now you were right there, right in front of him, having just walked across the room to come and see him.

“Oh shit,” Jack muttered from behind him.

You looked down at your shirt—your very white shirt that now had some atrocious red stain splattered across the front from the cocktail John had made him—and stared in shock.

Luke felt his whole body curl in on itself, his face burning and his chest feeling oddly tight. “I am so sorry—”

But, to his fucking shock (because you seemed to shock him a lot, if he was honest), you looked up at him and laughed.

“Unlucky timing, huh?” You joked but Luke didn’t feel like laughing.

“I can—” But he paused, not even sure what he was going to say.

“Liking the colour red a little too much there, Cherry!” A voice from somewhere in the crowd—Luke genuinely wasn’t sure where—called out and your face brightened.

“It’s a good thing I can pull it off!” You retorted, unfazed by the name.

Cherry.

Usually, Luke would chalk it up to his memory being fairly shit and the months that had passed since that night in the bar making him confuse your name for something else. Except, the boy had practically relived that night in his head on a constant loop. Every word. Every sentence. Every second of it.

Pathetic? Yes.

Helpful? Probably not in any way, shape or fucking form except for the fact he was certain your name was not Cherry. He was more than certain. At least, he was certain that wasn’t the name you had told him.

There were so many logical and simple reasons, he knew that deep down. But right now, Luke was embarrassed and flustered and he had this horrible inkling that you told him a fake name in case you thought he was a creep at the bar like the guy he saved you from and—

Yeah, Luke really didn’t like the idea of that. He didn’t like the idea of being paired in a category with that man. And he certainly didn’t like the idea that he made you uncomfortable enough to give him a fake name, even if he had given you no real reason to do otherwise.

Someone pushed through the crowd as Luke continued to spiral in his own thoughts, unable to even get a coherent sentence out when Nico glanced between you and him. He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he offered you an apology before he turned to Luke.

“You can show her where the bathroom is, right?”

And, fuck, he really thought this was the closest he could reach to ever feeling something close to hatred towards his captain.

Luke nodded his head, unable to get a word out and nodded towards the stairs.

You seemed to catch his hint well enough as you turned to head towards the stairs. Until your hand was reaching back, taking his in your grasp and intertwining your fingers together and Luke’s brain short circuited all over again.

“Get it, Moose!”

Jack was pretty high on that almost-hate list too.

Luke felt like his body was on autopilot as he moved towards the stairs, letting you lead him up with your hands still connected until you reached the top. You looked at him expectantly and he led you towards the bathroom—one of the larger ones because he thought he would die if he was trapped in a small, enclosed space with you after he just spilled his drink all over you.

He opened the door, flicking the light on before stepping aside and letting you head inside. Except, the world seemed to have something against him, you dragged him into the bathroom behind you, your hands still connected, and grinned at him.

“Help a girl out?”

Luke cleared his throat but nodded.

He tried not to think too hard when you eventually dropped his hand. He tried not to think too hard when you locked the bathroom door. He tried not to think too hard as you glanced at him through the mirror.

And he was doing well until you went and pulled your shirt over your head.

His eyes widened, a spluttered noise of surprise leaving his lips as his eyes instantly snapped to the ceiling. But it was useless, he could already feel his blush crawling down his neck and burning hot.

“Relax,” you laughed. “I’m not giving you the full show. Just need to get this stain out.”

“Mhm,” he hummed but his eyes remained on the ceiling.

“Luke?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh huh.”

You let out a hum, like you didn’t quite believe him but you didn’t seem to push further. Instead, he heard the tap turn on and the water started running and suddenly, the bigger bathroom didn’t feel big enough.

“I’m not a creep!” He blurted out.

You paused. “Is that why you are staring at the ceiling? To prove you aren’t a creep?”

“No, well—” He cut himself off and let out a deep breath. “No, I just…your friend called you Cherry down there. You gave me a different name. I just…didn’t want you to think you had to give me a fake name because I was a creep. Granted, you don’t owe me anything but I just wanted to assure you—”

“Luke?”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“I don’t think you’re a creep. And I didn’t lie about my name either,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “People just call me Cherry.”

And for a boy who ate, lived and breathed a sport that classically gave stupid nicknames to everyone and everything, he had never felt quite this dumb.

“Oh.”

“Are you going to look at me now?”

He waited for a moment. And then another. And then, before he chickened out of it, he lowered his gaze until he met yours—and didn’t let his eyes wander any further.

“You’re an interesting boy,” you mused, tilting your head to the side.

His brows furrowed together. “Thank you?”

You grinned at his response before you turned back to the sink, seamlessly continuing to scrub your shirt under the running tap.

Luke watched you for a few moments, trying to just stew in the silence and let you do your work. But the seconds kept ticking by and the silence was becoming more stifling and there was only so much he could handle before he wanted to rip his eyes out.

“I’m sorry about my brother, by the way,” he said when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “He’s a lil’ enthusiastic but he means no harm.”

“He seems quite desperate to get you laid,” you noted, your eyes briefly finding him in the mirror again. “A lot of your friends do.”

His cheeks burned again. “They do that with everyone. They just like to be wingmen, you know?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly on him. “But it makes you uncomfortable.”

You say it like a fact, not a question.

Luke choked a little. “Well—”

“Why not just tell them to back off?” You questioned and Luke welcomed the fresh, bitter twinge of embarrassment that washed over him.

“Because they would ask questions,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just easier to let them mess about.”

You looked intrigued now. “Why?”

Luke shifted under the intensity of your gaze. “Because then they would ask why I didn’t want to hook up with anyone.”

You raised your brows. “Not a one-night stand kind of man?”

And honestly, he should have just cut the conversation there. He should have deflected the topic onto something else or gave some vague answer. Hell, even telling you to mind your own business was a better answer. But the alcohol made him feel buzzed, your presence was overwhelming and—for the first time in his life—Luke found himself blurting out the words he swore he would take to the grave.

“Because I’m a virgin.”

You blinked. And he fucking waited for it.

He waited for you to laugh. He waited for you to laugh and howl and cackle at his pathetic admission. To mock him, to tease him, to make him feel worse than he already felt. He waited and waited and waited.

And it never came.

“And you can’t tell them that?” You questioned.

“I, uh,” Luke shook his head, his stomach somersaulting inside him in the worst ways possible. “No, it’s a little…taboo in my line of work.”

You turned to actually look at him instead of gazing at him in the mirror. “Are you a sex worker?”

Luke spluttered, shaking his head. “What? No! No, I…I’m a hockey player.”

You frowned a little. “Hockey players can’t be virgins?”

“Well, it’s not like a set rule but like,” he paused, waving his hands around like that explained everything. But you still looked confused and Luke knew he had to keep talking. “Everyone just kinda expects hockey players to be some kind of…sex god. Or something. I don’t know. All I know is that it’s not really common to be a virgin in the league.”

“Okay,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest—where you still stood in only a bra covering yourself. “So, like, are you a virgin…by choice?”

“Oh my god,” Luke groaned, bringing his hands to cover his face before it got even more red.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” You assured him. “I was just curious.”

“Nobody was supposed to know,” Luke grumbled into his hands, but you seemed to understand him well enough.

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

But the damage was done and Luke wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and drag him into the depths of the Earth.

He needed to get out of this bathroom. He needed to get out and go downstairs, rush through a flurry of goodbyes to the team before he quickly escaped and headed home where he could hide his embarrassment in a large tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream that certainly wasn’t in his meal plan.

He just needed to turn around, unlock the door and slip out before you had the chance to—

“What if I helped you?”

Yeah, that was not what he expected.

His hands dropped from his face as he stared at you, his expression almost blank except for the confusion shining in his eyes. “Huh?”

“What if I helped you?” You repeated.

“Helped me with what?”

“Being a virgin,” you said with a shrug. “It seems like it’s really important to you, or something. And I think you are bigging it up in your head a little more than necessary. Maybe you just need someone to give you a helping hand, you know? Guide you through it, help you learn. No pressure, yeah?”

He blinked. “And…you would do that?”

“Yeah, why not,” you answered honestly with a shrug of your shoulders. “You intrigue me, Luke.”

“I intrigue you,” he repeated slowly, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not a bad thing to be intriguing.”

“It is when you make it sound like I’m some kind of experiment.”

You flashed him a softer smile and something in his chest eased a little. “You don’t have to say yes, it was just a suggestion. Just…a new friend helping her new friend out.”

New friend.

Luke swallowed. “And…what would you gain from this?”

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders again. “Honestly? I’ve had my fair share of disappointing experiences in bed by guys who think they are sex gods. Call it a gift to womankind if I help at least one guy be competent and capable in bed.”

He blinked. “Right. Gift to womankind. That’s me.’

You snorted. “Just think about it, yeah? Obviously, you can go about with whatever you are doing. Just a suggestion to make a casual thing out of it, to help take the stress away. It’s your choice, Luke.”

It was his choice.

He knew it was his choice and, despite knowing little about you, some stupid part of him trusted that you were being genuine. You were odd but you were sincere, and he knew your offer was sincere too. If he took you up on it, you would help him out. If he declined, you wouldn’t push the matter any further and just move on in your life.

No more words were exchanged after that, the offer lingering and the tap still running as the red stain showed no signs of budging under the soap and cold water. He knew he didn’t have to give you an answer there and then.

But the worst part was that Luke was pretty fucking sure he knew what his answer was the first time the offer left your lips.

And he pretty sure the remaining stain on your shirt was some sort of bad omen from the universe that already liked to tease him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was fucking done being a twenty year old virgin and you were his solution to the problem.

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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8loveletters · 1 year

Text

"is this everything you dreamed of?"

pairing: kim mingyu × fem reader

genre: smut, mutual pining (or: mutual lowkey unhealthy obsession lol), little fluff at the end

word count: ~4.7k

content warnings: mingyu is a few (like 3) years older than reader, reader is smaller than mingyu and has somewhat longer hair, voyuerism, mutual (kinda) masturbation, dom!mingyu, oral (both receiving), tit sucking/nipple biting, spanking (literally once), unprotected sex, doggystyle, big dick gyu.., filming a sextape (not to be seen by anyone else), creampie, multiple orgasms, sir kink, praise kink, manhandling, lots of pet names given by mingyu (baby/pretty girl, princess, sweetheart, etc. (but also slut/whore..)), mingyu is a lil rough but also a softie,, lmk if i should add anything else!

summary: you've been hopelessly in love with your best friend's older brother for the past decade. you've fantasized countless times about a future in which you could be together. but you've accepted the fact that it will probably remain just that -- a fantasy. that is until your best friend and roommate's weekend trip out of town leads to a rare opportunity. will tonight finally be the night that all your dreams come true?

this weekend would be the first time you were going to be completely alone in a really long time. you and your roommate have been best friends since middle school. so, it only made sense that you would move in together and become roommates when you went to the same college together.

now, it's been a couple years since you graduated but you're still living together. you both enjoyed it though. being with each other practically 24/7 never put a strain on your relationship the way you had heard from others that it might. but you knew the time would come soon that you would have to part ways as you both established yourselves in your careers and became more independent. also, you knew it was only a matter of time that one or both of you would find a romantic partner you were serious enough about to move in with. and this weekend seemed like the first step towards that for your roommate.

she and her boyfriend were taking a weekend trip together for the first time. before that, however, she was going to take him to meet her parents and older brother. it was a way of seeking their approval before taking this next step in their relationship. but frankly it seemed like just a formality, as she was so head over heels for him it probably wouldn't matter whether they approved or not.

you were bored in bed scrolling through your feed while some dumb reality show played on your tv as background noise. you saw the picture your best friend posted earlier that night of her, her boyfriend, and her family taken at the restaurant they had met at to eat dinner. you smiled when you saw how happy she looked. her boyfriend was good to and for her and you knew how excited she was to introduce him to them. you were relieved it seemed to have gone well by the looks on everyone's faces.

however, your eyes eventually locked onto the one face you were trying your best to avoid: her older brother mingyu's.

mingyu was a few years older than you and your best friend. you met him the first time you ever spent the night at her house at the beginning of the first year of middle school. you really hadn't developed any interest in boys yet, and your new friend's awkward older brother was no exception to this, so you really paid him no attention. that, of course, changed over time the more you grew up and became more interested in boys and the more he grew up and became more handsome.

your crush on him really started to grow your freshman year of high school. he was a senior at your same school and seeing him everyday in the hallways in addition to the multiple days a week when you hung out at your best friend's house instead of your own just intensified your feelings more.

you never let onto it though, not wanting to make your best friend uncomfortable. so many girls in your grade already gushed about him around her and you could tell how awkward it was for her. it did make you a bit jealous though, other girls talking about how attractive he was. even though he'd never date them, focusing more on playing sports and hanging out with his friends than fooling around with any girls despite his playboy looks, you couldn't help but feel jealous when they stated the obvious -- that he was hot as hell.

after that year, though, he went off to college and you saw much less of him during those years. you would think that would make your lame high school crush fizzle out, but well, absence makes the heart grow fonder as they say. you cherished anything you could get. the times you would be at the same family functions as your families had also become so close over the years it was like one big extended family. or the time he helped you -- sweaty and shirtless -- move furniture into the new apartment you and your roommate had rented in the dead of summer. or the times he'd be on a roll posting the most boyfriend-coded pictures on his social media for days on end before disappearing from them again for weeks.

and now, after all these years, you still can't bring yourself to commit to a relationship because you just can't stop thinking about him. and you had met some really good people over the years who would be really good partners. but you just weren't ready yet. you just weren't ready to give up on the delusion that you and mingyu could still somehow end up together.

you couldn't stop yourself from clicking the tag on the picture and scrolling through mingyu's profile for the millionth time. you also couldn't stop your mind from wandering straight into the gutter while your free hand wandered underneath the waistband of your sweatpants.

you know it's wrong. you've known it was wrong for about 10 years now. but you just can't help it. you want mingyu, your best friend's brother, desperately. in the worst way possible. you turn off the tv and toss your phone on the bed, letting yourself yet again be immersed in the fantasy of having mingyu deep inside you. you tell yourself if this dream could become a reality just one time, you'd be satisfied and able to move on. but for now, you try in vain to pleasure yourself with just your fingers even half as much as you're convinced his cock would be able to.

so lost in your delusions, you don't even hear the front door of your apartment open and shut.

at dinner, mingyu's sister had asked him to stop by the apartment on his way home. she had forgotten to water her plant and she figured you'd probably be out with your other friends since it was the weekend. maybe you might have heard him struggle twice before finally entering the passcode correctly, but your bedroom was farthest from the front door and you had left your bedroom door open only a crack out of habit. plus, not much could be heard over your pathetic moans and whimpers thinking about the man who was now in your apartment.

mingyu was never the most observant person, so he didn't notice anything as he went to water the plant. even when he did think he heard something, he just chalked it up to maybe the walls being thin and it being a neighbor with their tv up too loud. so, he set the watering can down and started to leave the apartment. that is until he heard something akin to a siren's call: your voice. after all these years, it was unmistakable to him.

his mind tried to convince him he didn't hear what he thought he did. while his body, more specifically his cock growing harder by the second, led him toward your bedroom door. toward a sound he had only dreamt of: you moaning in pure ecstasy. as he reaches your door, his brain tries one last futile attempt to persuade him that you must have left your tv on and that's what he's hearing. as a good guy looking out for your electricity bill, he'll just pop in real quick and turn it off...

mingyu slowly pushes the door open and sees exactly what he was both hoping and dreading at the same time.

you are sprawled out on your bed in just a tiny tank top and panties, your sweatpants discarded at some point to the middle of your floor. mingyu cannot believe how beautiful you look biting your bottom lip with furrowed brows, hair all disheveled. his hand has a mind of its own as it quietly unbuckles his belt and releases his throbbing hard length from his slacks.

mingyu knows it's wrong. he's known it was wrong for about 10 years now. you were his little sister's best friend. he should not ever have been attracted to you, nor should he still be. but he was and he is.

countless nights over the years he dreamed about you two being together. but he could never cross that line and initiate anything. especially since he could never quite gauge how you really felt about him. he thought there was something to the looks you'd give him, and the way you'd blush when you realized he'd noticed. but then you'd usually act so indifferent or at the most cordial when you were around him. so he was always wondering if those lustful glances were all in his head. but it was just enough to always keep him wondering about what it would be like to be with you. so much, that it was hard for him to be in any kind of serious relationship. no one could compare to you, even if it was just an idealized version of you.

"mingyu!"

his blood runs cold and he stops in place, hand mid-pump down his thick cock. he stays frozen in place like a thief who has just been caught red-handed. when his eyes look up from your hand in your panties that he was focusing so intently on to your eyes, he realizes they are still shut. you haven't seen him. then, why would you have screamed his name..?

"mingyu, please. i want-- need you so bad." you are desperately chasing a high that won't come because your fingers just aren't enough. mingyu realizes immediately what's going on.

you're fantasizing about him while you touch yourself so desperately. this finally confirms that all these years he really wasn't crazy. you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

his body takes over once again giving his mind no time to even try to be rational. within seconds mingyu is hovering over you on your bed.

your eyes shoot open and you scream, heart nearly stopping. when you come to your senses and realize that the man over top of you is, literally, the man of your dreams and not some random intruder you relax slightly. but that doesn't last long before your entire body is burning with embarrassment as you try your hardest to push him away from you and cover yourself.

"mingyu!" no matter how you say his name it drives him crazy all the same. "w-what the hell are you doing here?!"

"my sister asked me to stop by and water her plant and-- well none of that matters now. what i want to know is what you were just doing?"

mingyu is still towering over you, your attempts to move his large frame amusing at best. the look on his face is something you've never seen before, like that of a ravenous wolf staring down its meal.

"i, uhh, i was just--" you shift under his gaze and turn your head slightly. if you can't get away from him you at least want to hide how hard he's making you blush right now.

"cat got your tongue, baby girl?" his smirk is so evil, his voice so cocky. "how about i give you the rundown? you were playing with that pretty little pussy of yours imagining it was me deep inside you and not your fingers. sound about right?"

you can't bring yourself to look at him directly, but your body is fighting hard to let him know he's exactly right. with much resistance, you're able to give him a slight nod. but it's not good enough.

mingyu grabs you somehow both roughly and gently by the chin and forces you to look him in his beautiful brown eyes that are saturated with lust. "use your words, darling. is that what you were doing?"

"y-yes.." it's soft but seems to satisfy him and he lets go of your jaw.

"well this is no good. all these years i never dared try anything because it didn't seem you felt the same way. but here you were so desperate for me all along." mingyu repositions himself so he can spread your legs apart, eyes locking onto the soaked fabric of your panties. your face is still burning but your body gives up on trying to resist him anymore and you keep your legs spread wide while he stares for what feels like ages. "oh y/n... if you really wanted me this badly, all you had to do was ask."

"i--" your voice catches in your throat, but you gather all your strength and try again, way too needy to care about how pathetic you're about to sound. "i don't just want you mingyu.. i need you.. been dreaming about you in my guts for years now.."

mingyu chuckles and cups your cheek with his large hand, looking down at you like you're the most adorable thing he's ever seen. "well then, tonight i'll make all those dreams a reality for you."

within the time it takes you to blink, mingyu crashes his lips into yours, all but devouring your lips with his own. his kisses are passionate and sloppy, giving away just how much he's been waiting for this moment as well. he trails more kisses down your neck as you unbutton the nice white dress shirt he was wearing and throw it on the floor near your sweatpants. he clumsily takes off his slacks and underwear, leaving himself fully exposed while you were still (barely) covered by your small tank top and panties.

you take in his form, his chiseled body and long, thick cock making you clench around nothing and bite your lower lip. he smirks at your reaction for a moment before quickly moving down to the end of the bed, positioning his face between your thighs right in front of your dripping core.

without warning he drags his tongue along the length of your cunt over the ruined fabric. your moan makes him smile wide, fangs on full display. "mm, baby, already so wet just for me." he places a few kisses on your thigh, surprisingly soft compared to the rough ones on your mouth moments before. the teasing becomes too much for you though, and you buck your hips up on instinct trying to get more contact on the place you need it most.

you whine as mingyu pulls his head away and forces your hips down onto the mattress. "not so fast, sweetheart. i need to hear you say exactly what you want from me. be a good girl and ask nicely, and i'll give it all to you."

"your tongue.. need your tongue on my pussy. please, mingyu."

mingyu gives you a satisfied nod and wastes no time ripping your thin panties clean off you and tossing them aside. he dives straight into your folds, lapping at your cunt like a dog who hasn't drank anything in days. the sensation quickly becomes overwhelming and when he moves to focus his attention on your clit, you're brought closer and closer to the edge. you manage to get a few words out at a time between moans and heavy breaths. "mingyu, i'm so close.. c-can i please come?" you catch on quickly, knowing he probably wouldn't let you unless you asked nicely.

and it seemed to work. mingyu nods and lets out a hum of approval and that's all you need to allow your orgasm to overtake you. your hands grabbed at his thick, dark hair as you pulled him closer into your core, hips rocking back and forth as you rode out your high.

mingyu licked up all your juices as you came down and then looked up at you, chin wet and eyes looking even hungrier than before. he crawled back on top of you, kissing you somehow even more wildly than he had before. once he felt you had had enough time to recover from your first climax, he effortlessly picked you up and swapped your positions in one swift motion. he was now the one laying on his back while you were over top of him. you knew he must be strong with the way he was built, but you were a little speechless at the maneuver he just pulled off like it was nothing. once you snap out of it, you take advantage of your position being literally on top and try to take a bit of the control in this situation.

"now it's my turn to make you feel good. would you like that, hm? like to see me choking on that big dick?" you grind your core down onto his rock-hard member as you ask, eliciting a quiet groan from mingyu's throat. when he doesn't answer right away, you decide to rephrase the question in a way that makes him feel he still has all the control. "can i please suck your cock, mingyu?"

he nods and you get right to work. you position yourself between his legs and are a bit taken aback when you see just how big and thick he is up close and in detail. you lick your lips at the sight and get started. you bob your head up and down a few times, stopping only part of the way down as you don't think you'd be able to take all of him. this isn't good enough for mingyu however and he suddenly wraps your hair tight around his hand and pushes your mouth down his full length. the pain of his tip pushing at the back of your throat brings tears to your eyes, but it feels so good at the same time.

after bringing your head back up and letting you catch your breath for a moment, mingyu starts relentlessly fucking your mouth. the sounds that fill the room are so filthy and it's like music to his ears. "look at you. so pretty while i fuck your mouth. such a beautiful little slut for me." you moan at his praises, tears streaming down your cheeks. the vibration of your voice around him is enough to finally push him towards his climax and his thrusts become sloppier but more forceful. "fuck, baby, feel so good choking on my cock. you ready to swallow my cum like a good little whore?" you do your best to nod your head in agreement and seconds later you feel him unload down your throat. when he's finished, he pulls out and you swallow hard. you open your mouth to show him you took it all and he smiles, a little out of breath. "good girl."

the way he praises you makes your heart skip a beat. all you've wanted for so many years was to be with him like this. and even if this is the only chance you ever get, you're glad you could make him feel good and be his good girl for the night.

you think mingyu might need a minute to recover, but you're amazed when he's ready to go again almost immediately. he quickly sits up and begins messily making out with you again. as he does, he finally pulls off your tank top which somehow has stayed on this whole time. once your tits are free he takes a moment to look at them in awe. then, he's kissing and sucking on them just as gently as he had your thighs earlier. you appreciate the way he can be so rough and so gentle with you, making you feel better than anyone you'd ever slept with before.

the stimulation on your nipples heightens your arousal, but you need more. "mingyu.."

"what is it, princess?"

"please-- can you please fuck me? need you inside me now." your last word comes out more like a moan as mingyu lightly bites your sensitive nipple before pulling away to look you straight in the eye.

he can see the way your eyes beg for him and he just can't keep you waiting any longer. he throws you onto the bed on your stomach, the way he can just toss you around so effortlessly like a doll turning you on even more. he positions you with your head down on your pillow, ass up in the air as he gets on his knees behind you. then, he notices something that catches his eye: your phone that you had tossed onto the bed next to you earlier. it gives him a naughty idea and he grabs it quickly and before you can react, he's got the camera app open and recording a video.

"mingyu, what are you doing?!" suddenly you feel shy all over again.

"just filming a little something so you know this wasn't a dream." as he says this, he runs his tip through your folds, camera angled perfectly to capture everything. your shyness subsided and all you can think about is him finally rearranging your guts.

"ah, don't tease," you whine. "please put it inside. please, gyu." the nickname and the begging tone of your voice somehow make him harder, if that was even possible. he intends to oblige, but first, he hands you your phone.

"i'll give you all that you're begging for and more. but you gotta keep the camera on that pretty face of yours while i fuck you stupid. got it, baby?"

you nod and feel mingyu's hand come down and smack your ass, clearly not content with your lack of a verbal response. "not good enough, dear. need to hear you say it. do you understand?"

"yes, sir."

he groans, showing he clearly likes when you address him this way. as soon as you get the camera angled perfectly on your face, mingyu slowly starts pushing into your entrance.

"oh, fuck." you both say it simultaneously. his cock is so thick inside you and your pussy is so tight around him. you're not sure all of him will even fit, but he keeps slowly pushing in further and further until he bottoms out with a deep groan.

"that feel good, princess?" he stays still inside you, giving you time to adjust to his massive size.

"mm, yes, feels so good. filling me all the way up so fucking perfectly." you make direct eye contact with the camera as you speak, having enough foresight to know how hot it will be when either of you watches it back later.

mingyu takes this as his cue to finally start moving in you. he pulls back slowly, almost pulling all the way out before harshly thrusting back into you. you basically scream as he hits your sweet spot, nearly dropping the phone before quickly repositioning it. he then starts thrusting in and out of you at a steady and relentless pace.

the room, and probably your entire apartment, is filled with your moans and the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the camera capturing it all along with the tears that begin falling down your cheeks once again.

"fuck, baby, you're so tight. feel so fucking good clenching around me. better than i ever imagined. is this cock everything you dreamed of?"

"fuck, mingyu. so much better. so much bigger. fuck, just like that. please keep using my pussy just like that. it's all yours. i'm all yours, mingyu." you just keep babbling on, coming closer and closer to exploding again. the way you keep clenching around him is bringing mingyu back to the edge again as well.

"damn, baby, i'm so close. tell me where you want my cum and i'll let you come as well."

"inside. please, sir. i want you to come deep inside me. fill me up, please, gyu." you meant it when you said you were all his. and you wanted all of him, every last drop, inside of you.

after a few more strokes you both started coming undone. you tried your best to keep the camera focused on your face, but the video was probably going to come out just as shaky as your whole body was right now. mingyu painted your walls with his thick, hot white ropes of cum that mixed together beautifully with your own juices.

he stayed inside of you as you both caught your breaths a little. he reached forward and grabbed your phone from your hand, and focused it again on your cunt as he slowly pulled out. once his member was fully removed, he zoomed in on your hole as the mixture of liquids began to leak out and down onto the sheets below you.

once he felt like he got all the footage he needed, he locked your phone and threw it back onto the bed. mingyu could see you were too exhausted to move much on your own, so he went into your bathroom to get some towels to clean both you and the sheets up a bit before crawling into bed and cuddling with you.

he began petting your hair and showering you with praises. "you did so well, pretty girl. took my cock so well and looked so beautiful coming undone just for me." he kissed your forehead and you snuggled up closer to him, feeling so safe and warm in his big arms, comforted by the sound of his heart beating through his chest. you lay just like this for a bit before looking up at mingyu.

"thank you." he looks at you confused, cocking his head to the side like a curious puppy.

"thank you for making my dreams come true. even if it was just for one night.. i'm so happy to finally be with you like this."

mingyu looks a little upset at your words and you start to panic internally, fearing you've said something wrong.

"you don't have to thank me. i've wanted this just as badly, you know. but--" he stops for a moment but eventually continues. "was this just a one time thing for you?"

you're taken aback by how upset and almost insecure he seems, compared to how confident he had been all night.

"no!" it comes out a bit more panicked than you intended and you tried to calm yourself before continuing. "i just assumed.. i mean, would you want to do this again?"

"of course i would. you're the only girl i've wanted for years now, y/n. now that i've had you, i don't think i can ever let you go."

"but what about--" you stop yourself, realizing it would be weird for both of you to bring up your best friend and his younger sister while you're both laying naked together in bed after what you've just done. "are you sure?"

mingyu rolls over on his side, getting in a better position to look you in the eye and show you how sincere he is. "i've never been more sure about anything in my life. i'm completely yours, as long as you'll have me."

your eyes start to well up and you blink a couple times, mostly to make sure one final time that you're really not dreaming, but it also causes the tears to start streaming down. mingyu quickly wipes them away and caresses your cheek.

"of course i will, mingyu. you're literally a dream come true for me. like i told you earlier, i'm all yours."

mingyu pulls you closer to him and kisses you long and hard. when you finally part he just rests his forehead on yours for a moment and smiles, eyes still closed. when he's finally soaked up the moment, he quickly gets up from the bed leaving you a bit confused. he then walks around to your side and picks you up bridal-style without warning. you squeal at first and then start to giggle. he finds it so endearing how adorable you are and chuckles along with you.

"come on, pretty girl. let's go get properly cleaned up and get some well-deserved rest." he carries you across the room toward your bathroom so easily, as if you weigh nothing in his arms.

"yes, sir." your voice is so teasing now, completely unlike how you said the same phrase earlier that night.

"don't tease me, love. not unless you're ready for round two."

you smirk as you look up at him, still holding you while standing still in the doorway to your bathroom.

"i'm ready if you are."

a/n: this is my first nsfw piece so i hope it's okay 👉👈 any constructive feedback is greatly appreciated!! also, if you liked this please check out my other works here, and please reblog instead of just liking!

#caratwritersclub #seventeen #svt #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #smut #fanfic #m

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lokilaufeysonslove · 2 months

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𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

// Summary // you and Bucky have been best friends for years, but when you start dating someone else, Bucky realizes he has feelings for you and struggles with whether or not to tell you.

// Warnings // cheating (not reader)

// Author’s Note // divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @marks-hoffman

MASTERLIST

You and Bucky had been best friends since the day he moved into the apartment across from yours. You were the first person he met in the building, and you quickly became inseparable. You did everything together - cooking, watching movies, going on walks, and even working out at the gym. You knew each other's secrets, fears, and dreams. You were each other's confidants and support system.

But things changed when you started dating someone new. Bucky was happy for you, of course, but he couldn't shake off the lingering feeling of jealousy. He didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but he couldn't help feeling a pang of hurt every time you talked about your new boyfriend - Jack. He tried to push these feelings aside and focus on being a good friend, but it was getting harder and harder.

He found himself looking at you differently, feeling butterflies in his stomach whenever you smiled at him or laughed at his jokes. He tried to brush it off as just a passing crush, but as time went on, his feelings only grew stronger. He didn’t want to ruin your friendship, so he didn’t say anything.

But deep down, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was losing you. And that thought terrified him.

One day, you invited Bucky over for dinner with you and your boyfriend. Bucky reluctantly agreed, not wanting to ruin your relationship with his feelings. However, as the night went on, Bucky found himself unable to hide his true feelings. He couldn't stand seeing you so happy with someone else. He excused himself from the table and went to the balcony to clear his head.

You followed him, concerned. "Hey, are you okay?" you asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Bucky turned to face you, his heart racing. "I shouldn't be here," he said, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come."

"What are you talking about?" you asked, confused.

Bucky let out a sigh. "I can't do this anymore, Y/n. I can't pretend that I'm okay with you dating someone else. I have feelings for you, and I can't just ignore them."

You were taken aback by Bucky's confession. You had no idea he felt this way, and you didn't know how to respond. You didn't want to hurt him, but you also didn't want to lose his friendship.

"I'm sorry, Bucky," you said softly. "I had no idea. But I’m with Jack now. I value our friendship so much and I don't want to lose what we have. I hope we can still be friends," you said gently.

Bucky nodded, his heart sinking. He knew he had taken a risk by telling you, but he couldn't keep it bottled up any longer. He had to be honest with you and himself.

"I understand," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I just needed to tell you. I'll give you some space, and I'll be okay."

You didn't want to leave things like this. You didn't want to lose Bucky as a friend, and you didn't want him to be hurt. "Please don't shut me out, Bucky," you said, tears forming in your eyes. "I don't want to lose you. Can we still be friends?"

Bucky's heart skipped a beat at your words. He couldn't leave you, not when you needed him. He pulled you into a hug, holding you tight. "Of course we can, Y/n. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

After his confession, things between you and Bucky were a bit awkward for a while, but eventually, you both fell back into your comfortable friendship. Everything was fine.

Until your boyfriend cheated on you and everything changed. You were heartbroken and didn't know who to turn to, so you just went to Bucky’s apartment and knocked on his door.

When he opened the door, he saw you with tears in your eyes. His heart sank at the sight. "He cheated on me, Bucky. I can't believe it."

Without hesitation, Bucky pulled you into a hug, comforting you as you cried. He felt guilty for feeling happy that your relationship had ended, but he couldn't help it. All he wanted was for you to be happy. With him.

“He’s a loser. How could someone cheat on an angel like you.” He said softly. And in that moment, you realized that the person who had been there for you all along was the one you truly wanted to be with.

"Bucky, I don't know what I would do without you. You've always been there for me, even when I didn't realize it," you said, tears in your eyes.

Bucky wiped away your tears and looked into your eyes. "I'll always be here for you, doll, no matter what."

“I love you.” You muttered, barely above a whisper. He smiled and looked at you, “I love you too.”

And just like that, everything fell into place. You and Bucky finally confessed your feelings for each other, and it felt like everything was right in the world.

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fragilefable · 9 months

Text

nobody's son, nobody's daughter.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ minors DNI) Summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs. Warnings: heavy angst, canon typical violence, character death (sarah), discussions of grief, very brief mention of suicidal ideation, alcohol used to cope, depression, suggestive language, lovers reunited, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Word Count: 6.6k Currently Playing: Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey ♪

A/N: This piece has been months in the making, hours of rereading and rewriting. This is my love child. I'm possibly (definitely) planning a part 2 with smut... ;) I am a full-time college student who unfortunately has other responsibilities, so please be patient with me. My first lengthy piece in a while, so please be kind & enjoy my doves!

Sleep was the most convenient temporary escape available in the post-cordyceps world. Oftentimes, if you were lucky enough, with sleep came dreams—glimpses of a divine, utopian life. One without spores or fungi of any kind. There was, however, always the chance that with it came nightmares—Polaroids of the past, the uprising of the infection. Mothers clutching bloodied children, decaying men ripping open flesh with their savage teeth, and, worst of all— losing Joel Miller.

Joel was... everything—neighbor, friend, lover. Joel hated that word— laughed every time it managed to escape your lips in a hushed whisper, but that was what you were to each other. It transcended explanation. You'd moved to Austin after college in hopes of starting over, a clean slate. Instead, you'd stumbled upon a single father and his then 11-year-old daughter. You fit into their life like the missing puzzle piece— you completed them. Sarah needed a motherly presence in her life. There was only so much Joel could do for the blossoming young woman.

And Joel— Joel never knew what he was missing until you came along. Someone to be able to rely on, to love unconditionally, a fixed constant. To say he fell head over heels was an understatement, but it became so much more than physical attraction. It became something far more profound and terrifying— love. The kind of love only poets write about. It was fierce, at times agonizing. That's what made losing him all the more heartbreaking.

You were with Sarah the night of the outbreak— Joel's birthday. Lounging around in plaid pajamas, waiting for Joel to get home from work. Despite being exhausted, Sarah was beaming with pride over her birthday present for her dad— his broken wristwatch now repaired and refurbished. You smiled mischievously, "And just where did you get the money to fix this, young lady?" Sarah grinned slyly, "Just lyin' around, it's not like he noticed it was missin'!" Hours passed, you and Sarah slumped against the couch: Fast asleep, soft snores escaping mouths, drool dribbling down chins.

The sight made Joel's heart quaver in his chest. Kicking off his muddied work boots, he carefully plopped down in between the two sleeping figures, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. "Hmm. You're home," you stirred awake, drowsy eyes met with a welcome sight: Weathered tan skin and dark chocolate curls. "Hey, Darlin'. You outta head up to bed. I'll be up soon." You nodded faintly, planting a chaste kiss on Sarah's forehead: "Goodnight, sweet girl."

You fell fast asleep as soon as your body hit Joel's mattress, his scent engulfing you like a blanket of safety— a shield of sorts. The vague smell of sawdust and pine soap conquered your senses, a heavenly combination. An hour later, you felt the bed dip down, strong arms circling your waist.

Frantic hands shook you awake, calling your name weakly: "I can't find Dad. N' somethin' weird is goin' on outside." You sat up, Sarah's urgency pulling you from your hazy half-asleep state. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll call him. Go back to bed." Sarah ignored your suggestion and sat beside you as you reached for the landline. The call went to voicemail without hesitation: "Huh... That's weird."

Sarah grew more anxious by the second, "I'm gonna go check the driveway for his truck." Sarah shot up from the bed, feet pattering down the stairs. "Sarah! Wait, I'll come with-" Throwing on your Converse, you hastily ran out after her. Your tired eyes scanned the pavement but found no signs of Sarah or Joel's truck. The Adler's door was wide open; you huffed: "Sarah?"

The Adler's house was pitch black and eerily quiet, the family's dog nowhere to be seen: "Sarah? This is trespassing!" Tiptoeing through the living room, you halted at the sight of a ruby trail— blood. Grotesque, wet noises filled the previously silent house: "Sarah?" The teen bolted out of the kitchen, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the front door: "Run!" Mrs. Adler scrambled after Sarah, mouth dribbling crimson liquid, no longer bound to her wheelchair.

"What the fuck–" Sarah's grip on your hand tightened as you passed through the door and stumbled onto the pavement. A pair of familiar brown eyes scanned Sarah's figure and then yours: "Sarah? Darlin'? Are ya'll ok-" Joel's words were cut off when Mrs. Adler dashed through the front door, her figure lunging for you.

Joel struck the side of her head with a wrench as you made a feeble attempt to crawl away. His strikes were lethal, and yet the elder kept thrashing against the ground. "Joel, stop!" Only then did you notice Tommy, Joel's younger brother, behind you, coaxing Sarah into the truck.

Joel exhausted Mrs. Adler with one final swing, dropping the bloodied wrench beside him and wiping his shaky hands on his jeans. His gaze softened when he saw your timid frame— shaking and unmoving. "Darlin'... Baby, are you okay?" His hands found your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on a patch of exposed skin. You hesitated; Joel had just killed Mrs. Adler in cold blood— but she tried to kill you and Sarah first.

Joel hurriedly hoisted you to your feet, "We gotta go, okay baby? It's not safe here." You clambered into the backseat beside Sarah, the girl's arms thrown around you tightly. Kissing the crown of her head, you reassured her: "It's okay, sweetheart, everything's okay."

Neighbors began to exit their homes, baffled and disturbed by the sight of Mrs. Adler's bloody, lifeless body lying in the yard. Someone called out for Joel. He immediately instructed her to go back inside and lock the doors. Tommy beckoned Joel into the car, exiting the culdesac and taking off towards the highway. After a fleeting moment, you mustered up the courage to ask, "Joel, what's going on?" Tommy replied, "They're sayin' it's a virus- some kinda parasite." Sarah spoke up, tears forming, "Are we sick?" Joel shot the idea down immediately.

Tommy and Joel continued bickering, your eyes glued to the road ahead: "Joel! Look- It's Jimmy's place." The two-story farmhouse was completely engulfed in flames, unrecognizable. Your hands clung to Sarah, burrowing her head into your neck: "It's okay, sweet girl." Police sirens rang out through the darkness, interrupted by soft pleas for help. A family was stranded on the side of the road, begging for aid. Tommy began to slow the car. "What're you doin'?" Joel firmly questioned. Tommy shot back, "Got a kid, Joel."

"So do we. Keep drivin'," Joel spat. Tommy sped back up, eyes searching Joel's for an explanation: "Somebody else will come along." As Tommy approached the interstate, the sounds of disgruntled drivers grew louder: "Fuck! Everybody had the same fuckin' idea. I can't get through this." Joel gripped the dashboard, "All right, all right. Let's think it through," he paused for a moment, "All right, take the field! We cut across, and we pick up on the west side." Tommy steered right, the truck jerking on the uneven terrain. As he drove over the hill, helicopters and tanks came into view, "Shit. Fuckin' army."

Sarah peered out from behind the seat, "Isn't that good?" Your voice was filled with hesitation, "That's the highway we need to get to." Joel and Tommy argued, eventually continuing toward a town just east of the highway. Sarah stilled, "Maybe it's everywhere. Maybe there's nowhere to go." A booming roar erupted, Tommy twisting his body to get a better look at the night sky: "What the fuck?!" Commercial airplanes flew overhead, merely hundreds of feet above the ground. You instinctively covered Sarah's ears with your hands, eyes wrenching shut at the deafening rumble of their engines. Tommy swerved to avoid a police blockade ahead, turning into a nearby alleyway.

The streets were flooded with screaming civilians, running in every direction— no one sure who exactly they were running from. A hoard of people fled from inside a movie theater, causing Tommy to shift the truck's gear into reverse. "Dad?" Sarah called out, "Dad!" Joel turned; an airplane was rapidly descending— heading straight towards town, "Shit. Move!" As the plane made contact with the ground, a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke bloomed, causing Tommy to lose control of the truck.

A strong hand shook your leg, "Darlin'? Stay right there, don't move." Your side ached, cool liquid flowing from your head. Beside you, Sarah quickly came to, her eyes shifting to the figure hunched outside of the flipped car, clawing at the corpse of an older man. "Sarah, baby, don't look. C'mere, put your arms around me." As Joel carefully unearthed Sarah from the mangled truck, you climbed out of the shattered window: Hissing as you shifted against your arm. Sarah tried to put weight on her leg, provoking muffled whimpers and cries at the attempt. Tommy, equipped with his shotgun, called out, "We gotta get off the street!"

As you approached Joel and Sarah, a flaming police car crashed into the capsized truck, separating the three of you from Tommy. Tommy roared from the other side of the wreck: "Meet at the river! I'll find a way." Joel turned to Sarah, "Can you run?" She shook her head wearily. He scooped her into his arms, "Keep your eyes on me." Joel shifted towards you, "No matter what, you keep runnin'. Alright, darlin'? Promise me." You hesitated, desperate eyes meeting his, "I promise."

The three of you stumbled through the alley until you came across a cluster of bodies scattered across the pavement, crouched figures grunting over the lifeless figures. The end of the passage was clear. The only problem was getting past the rotted creatures without being noticed. There was no way Joel could outrun them in his condition. One of the creatures shot up at the sound of a remote blast, eyes landing on Joel. His voice was firm, "Go." You grabbed his arm, "Joel!" He repeated his command, louder— frantic: "You can't carry Sarah w'that arm. Go find Tommy. We'll meet you there."

You pressed a hurried kiss to Sarah's head, the deranged man scrambling to his feet before you could embrace Joel. You took off towards the other end of the alley, Joel and Sarah barricading themselves inside the vacant diner across from the pile of carcasses. Your body throbbed with every step, head burning with the fire of a thousand suns. Your feet carried you across town, weaving in and out of injured civilians and infected until you reached the river. The stream was pitch black, sounds of gunfire and cries rang out in the distance.

Suddenly, a bright light blinded you: "Put your hands where I can see 'em!" You obeyed, raising them as high as your injured arm would allow. Your voice raw with distress, "M'not sick! Just trying to find my family!" The man stepped closer, seemingly inspecting your physical state. He was clad in military gear, "You hurt?" You shook your head eagerly: "Just a sprained arm." He nodded his head, "Alright. We've got buses that can take you to a decontamination zone."

Your head scanned the vast field, eyes scouring for any sign of Joel or Tommy: "I- I can't. I'm supposed to meet someone here. At the river." The soldier looked dissatisfied and slowly lifted his gun, "The river goes on for miles. S'not safe out here." Your eyebrows threaded together in confusion, "What- are you- are you gonna shoot me?" The soldier's grasp on his automatic rifle tightened, "I'm sayin' you have two choices. You can either come with me or you can-"

A guttural scream sounded from behind him. But before he could turn around, a pair of arms seized his neck and began ripping into his military garb. The soldier flailed wildly at his attacker. While he was busy fighting off the deranged beast, you took off into the darkness, wandering aimlessly and calling out for your family. That night was the last time you saw Joel Miller.

16 Years Later

The bitter winter air overwhelmed your senses until you were gasping for air, limbs numb and cold to the touch. You wouldn't make it much longer without shelter, without warmth. You'd spent the better part of the last 16 years searching for him— for Joel. Ever since that night, you'd scoured every independent civilization, every QZ, within mobs of infected. Each night, you silently prayed never to find him like that— skin pallid and overcome with fungus, head split wide open, cordyceps blooming from within.

You'd trekked across the country with the sole intent of finding him alive and healthy. The journey was brutal— raiders and infected desperate for blood. But by far, the hardest battle was pushing away the nagging thought that, even if Joel and Sarah were somehow alive, you'd never find them. Now, after nearly two decades of searching, you were reaching the end of your journey. You'd officially trekked across the entire nation. If your estimations were correct, you were nearing Wyoming— hence the formidable cold front.

You'd heard rumors about a small civilization located somewhere on the skirts of Jackson County— your last stop. You knew the chances were slim; that feeling only fortified with each city, each civilian who hadn't heard of or seen anyone by the name of "Joel Miller." But you kept searching— because the day that you stopped would be the day you lost everything, lost yourself. It was as though he held onto you with a leash. If you tugged hard enough, could you finally break free? What else did you have to live for? Maybe one day you'd have some sort of epiphany, something to make sense of all the death and suffering. For now, Joel kept your hope alive— the hope that there was happiness and safety beyond all of the pain. The very thought of him kept you alive.

You stood in front of thick and rusted iron gates, your posture crooked due to exhaustion— Just one more stop. The sounds of cocking guns drew your attention to the top of the gates. A young man and woman stand there, rifles pointed at you: "Drop your weapon! Let us see your hands!" You obey. This is standard practice amongst civilizations— you'd done it a thousand times by now. Unsheathing and kicking away your pistol, you then throw your backpack towards the gate. Hands raised next to your head. Your voice wavers as you half-shout, "I'm not infected! Just looking for someone!"

The woman searched your face for a bit, presumably looking for any signs of deceit. She nodded towards her companion, the corroded metal walls unfolding. Two men approached you and picked up your discarded belongings. The younger of the two roughly patted you down and checked for bite marks. When they were satisfied, they led you past the gates into the town square. The village was pleasant, a handful of people milling about in the slushy streets.

A familiar voice erupts from behind you: "Please excuse the initial hostility. We need to be careful about who we let in... I'm Maria." She extends her hand. You accept it gingerly and introduce yourself. "Welcome to Jackson. You must be freezing. Come on, we'll talk inside." — Maria leads you inside a small building, the exterior reminding you of the Lincoln Logs you used to play with as a child. The inside is... quaint. A lone desk sits near the lit fireplace. Maria leans against the desk and motions for you to take a seat: "So... You're lookin' for someone. And you have reason to believe they're here?"

You sigh, allowing your aching body to relax against the couch's plush cushions: "No... I am looking for someone, but... Well, this is my last stop." Maria nods sympathetically, tucking a lone braid behind her ear— "I get it. You've been looking for a long time. It's about time to stop. To rest." You can't help the tears that form on your waterline. Your gaze shifts to your lap. Maria continues, "Who are you lookin' for?"

You swallow the fist-sized lump in your throat, "Joel. Joel Miller." Your attention snaps towards her as a wistful sigh escapes her lips. A tight frown dawns on Maria's face, "I'm sorry. There's no Joel Miller here." You nod; you knew it was a long shot, but hearing it aloud was something different entirely. You rise from the couch, "Thank you. I apologize for takin' up your time." Maria speaks up before you can reach the door: "Now what? You got a place to stay?"

You honestly hadn't thought that far, about life beyond looking. For years, finding Joel was your only purpose— your rationale for remaining on this infested hellscape. You had no home, no roots. Maria's voice interrupts your thoughts, "There's room here. We've got food and water— shelter. Hell, we're even working on electricity." You turn to face her. Her words dripping with verity, "Jackson could be your home."

Despite having just met her, Maria's words touched something buried deep within you— hope. Hopeful of a new life, of new beginnings. You forged a small smile, "Okay." Maria smiled, but it was much different from yours: It was toothy, genuine— "Alright. I'll give you the grand tour then." For the next hour or so, Maria marched you around town. She showed you the vast dining hall laden with maple furniture. The stables filled with mare and their young.

Then she showed you the schoolhouse. It was a small brick building. The walls were filled with colorful crayon drawings. Tiny handprints were pressed onto the wall in various colors of acrylic paint. The dulcet sounds of innocent laughter erupted from every corner of the room. Children from the ages of 5-12 were scattered around: Some doing arts and crafts, some reading, and others playing with worn toys. A tear slipped down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before Maria could notice.

You couldn't help but think of Sarah. About the first time she knocked on your door— she was selling chocolate bars for some fundraiser at school. Her bronze complexion dappled with freckles, and her wide smile revealed a missing tooth. She was eleven at the time, eyes bright and full of wonder. Blind to the atrocities that loomed at every turn. Sometimes, you'd think about what she looked like now— did her curls still rest atop her shoulders? Did she still laugh until she was panting for air? She's thirty now... Has she fallen in love? That was considering she is still...

You didn't entertain the thought. Sarah was fine, alive somewhere with her father to look after her. Maria's touch pulls you from your thoughts, "How about I show you where you'll be living? Get you settled in." As Maria exited the schoolhouse, you stole one last glance at the room. A little girl met your gaze. Her dark curls were pulled into two ponytails. Her burnt mahogany eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, raising her tiny hand and waving it at you. You returned the sentiment, this time allowing the tear to fall down and onto the ground.

Maria escorted you just outside of town, to a street lined with country-style two-story houses in relatively good condition. "This one here, the green one. It's already furnished. I'll have one of my guys come by later with some essentials from the pantry. Otherwise, you should be all set 'til tomorrow." Your eyes bore into the house. It was nice, but also... "It's big," you retort, "Don't know what I could possibly need all those rooms for." Maria lays the silver key in your hand, "You never know."

You internally cringe at the connotation. Start over with some man? Have a big family and a white picket fence? You couldn't. It wouldn't be the same. You let out a shaky breath, "Thank you, Maria." She nods, "Come see me tomorrow, and we'll talk about where to go from here. Everyone in Jackson has a job, a role to play. Rest up... You deserve it." She departs, leaving just you and your great, big, empty house.

3 Years Later

Jackson developed rapidly under Maria's supervision. The population rose from 50 to roughly 300 in just under three years. Jackson now had electricity, thanks to the Jackson County Hydroelectric Dam that Maria's team was able to get up and running. You'd become the head of patrol— in charge of organizing the schedules and determining the routes. You and Maria had become very close, practically family. She's the person who understood you, what you've been through.

In an attempt to busy yourself and earn your keep, you'd thrown yourself into working alongside her. Not just with patrols but also with community relations and development. You'd completely reconstructed the greenhouse, built a jailhouse— that, luckily, wasn't used much— and helped fortify Jackson's defenses. Maria assigned you the title "community leader," but you much preferred what everyone else called you: "Maria's right hand."

Your house was still too big, but now it felt homier— lived in. The walls were plastered with botanical paintings you'd found while out on patrol, vases of fresh cut flowers from the community garden placed upon every surface. Cable knit blankets were draped over the shabby leather furniture, the brick fireplace emanating warmth and bringing solace during the cold winter months. You'd even taken up baking in your spare time, frequently bringing baked goods to the schoolhouse.

Nevertheless, when the sun set and the sounds of bustling downtown Jackson faded, your thoughts always returned to Joel. His bronze skin, tousled brown curls, and perfectly plump lips. Suddenly, it felt as though the house was mocking you, and the right side of the bed always grew colder. Perhaps it's why you worked yourself so hard; taking a day off was seldom. You couldn't escape the persistent feeling that Joel and Sarah weren't alive. That you'd failed to find them time and time again because somewhere, they were six feet under, buried in an unmarked grave. All it takes is one moment— one lapse between heartbeats— and suddenly, everything has changed.

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The spring air was crisp with morning dew. A gentle breeze slipped through the cracked bay window. Three heavy thuds woke you— the sharp knocks cutting through serene silence. Your voice was raspy with sleep, "Coming!" You quickly pulled on the worn terrycloth robe that hung from the bedpost and stumbled downstairs. You swung the door open to reveal Stanley, a young man who worked in construction: "I'm so sorry to wake you, but Maria sent me to get you. She said it's urgent."

You sighed deeply, rubbing the remaining exhaustion from your face: "Urgent like, 'don't get dressed' urgent?" Stanley's eyes roamed across the dark fabric of your robe before snapping back to your face. His cheeks bright pink, "Oh, um... no! Just meet her in her office ASAP." Sending him off with a nod, you traipsed upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making your way downtown. It was early morning, the streets empty save the early risers milling about, getting ready for work. As you passed a group of older women sipping hot beverages, you overheard whispers of "an outsider." As Maria's righthand, you were expected to greet all incoming arrivals. How on earth that could constitute a crisis, you did not know.

As you approached Maria's office, the woman in question exited swiftly, shutting the door behind her. You grew closer, taking note of her fidgeting hands. She was... nervous? "Good morning, Mar. What's the emergency?" Maria's face was sullen. You'd never seen her like this, not in the three years you'd known her. Your hands clenched at your sides, "Maria? What is it?"

She took a deep breath, "This may be a false alarm, but... This guy's last name is Miller. Says he's originally from Texas." Her words stole the air from your lungs, a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. She said something else, but all you could hear was buzzing. Your vision blurred, the dark-skinned woman's features coming in and out of focus. Could it be him—had Joel finally found you?

Maria called your name, pulling you from your trance. As your vision focused, you pushed past her. Your grip on the doorknob was bone-crushing, your knuckles turning white from the tension. You inhaled— don't get your hopes up. It might not be him. You exhaled, pushing the door open with a startling amount of force. You analyzed the man's figure, you recognized him— only it wasn't Joel. It wasn't the Miller whose calloused hands once traveled the expanse of your body, making note of each hidden crevice as though it may hold treasure. Whose lips once seared white hot kisses in the places he knew were the most sensitive— "Tommy?"

He looked dumbstruck, his lips parted in shock. Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck. It took him a moment to reciprocate your embrace, but once he did, his arms anchored you in place. He spoke your name quietly against the crown of your head: "I can't... I can't believe it." You pulled away, "I hardly can either." His hands rested atop your shoulders as his eyes searched your face in disbelief. His resemblance to his older brother felt like a gut punch. You were afraid to ask— fearful of the truth: "Joel? Is he..."

Tommy's hand squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, "He's alive. Last I checked, holed up somewhere in the Boston QZ." A warm tear slipped down your face, the salty liquid resting just below your chin. You'd checked Boston QZ, but recent "terrorist" attacks had made it impossible to stay longer than an hour without drawing the attention of every FEDRA soldier in that godforsaken city. Your hands trembled as you clutched your chest, "And Sarah? How's my sweet girl?"

Tommy's face went cold— No. No. She can't— "She's gone." The taste of bile rose in your throat, "Wh-when?" Tommy removed his hands from your shoulders, "That night. Shot by some military fucker. She..." He hesitated, "Joel held her. It happened s'fast." Your kneels buckled, threatening to send you towards the ground. You fucked up— you let yourself get accustomed to the idea of her being alive. Repeated it over and over again until you believed it to be true. This was all your fault.

Your shoulders shook silently, as if you were crying— but no tears emerged, "I have to… I have to find Joel." Turning toward the door, Tommy caught you by your wrist: "I can't let you do that, hon. It's a damn death sentence." You tugged at your arm, desperate to break free from the restraint: "Let go of me, Tommy. I'm doin' this." Maria stepped forward, her hand resting at the base of your neck— "No, you're not. Jackson needs you here. I need you here."

Your breathing became labored. Deep down, you knew they were right— you were in no shape to travel across the country again. You'd barely survived it the first time. Chest heaving, your free hand found purchase on your throat, tightly grasping and constricting the airway. Tommy wearily let go of your wrist, his eyes wide and filled with fear. You ran for the door; you could hear Tommy call out for you as you fled homeward. Sarah was gone. Joel was alone.

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Days passed, and despite everything, the sun rose in the morning and the moon at night. You weren't quite sure how long it had been. You'd stopped counting daybreak after the first five came and went. Maria checked in after the first couple of days, worried that you hadn't been seen around town— or leaving your house, for that matter. Your grief was debilitating, all-consuming. You couldn't eat, could barely sleep, only finding relief at the bottom of a liquor bottle. You were tired… The kind of tired that sleep didn't fix.

Tommy came once. Sat and talked while you stared straight ahead at the empty wall. He could sense your anger, your resentment. How could he not? You silently judged him for leaving Joel, leaving his brother after his only daughter died in his arms. Tommy told you that Joel had changed. He wasn't the Joel you fell in love with; he'd done terrible things— But so had you. You'd killed innocent people, people who were just trying to protect themselves. And you did it in the name of finding Joel and Sarah, of surviving for them. You'd convinced yourself it was kill or be killed, and you had to live with that. Come judgment day, you'd pay greatly for your sins. You accepted that, too.

You only dared to look at Tommy's face once. You saw Joel in his eyes— you saw Sarah. Maybe if you hadn't left Joel in that alleyway, she'd still be alive. You could've protected her, taken the bullet for her. You would have, without hesitation. You'd cross the fiery pits of hell for her, reside in Caina, and be tortured for eternity. You may not have given birth to her, but Sarah was your daughter.

If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could faintly picture her smile. The dimples that formed just below her bottom lip. You could smell the faint aroma of her strawberry shampoo. Hear the broken remnants of her grandiose laughter. You swore to keep those memories someplace safe. Take them out and remember when you needed to, as if they were photographs.

A part of you wanted to be happy that she didn't suffer. She was too innocent for this new, heartless world. She was everything good in life. She was sunshine, sugary syrup, and pure, unadulterated love. But you could not accept this bright side. Not when it meant a life without her in it. Innocence is beautiful, but life is for living.

Tommy stood up, slipping a piece of paper on the nightstand. You cautiously turned it over to reveal a creased photo: You, Joel, and Sarah posing after winning one of her soccer games. You stole one last glance at Tommy. This time, he did not see blinding hatred in your gaze. Instead, he saw gratitude. As your glassy eyes bore into him, he nodded knowingly and left.

Maria came a couple of hours later with leftovers from the dining hall. Setting them on the counter next to the empty whiskey bottles displayed like pathetic trophies. You were in the same position as when Tommy left. You held the photo in your hands, thumbs stroking its frayed edges. Maria quietly dragged a chair closer to the bed, sitting just within arm's reach: "I went to a really dark place after I lost Kevin."

Tearing your gaze from the picture, one of her hands finds yours: "He made life worth living… It took me a long time to start to feel human again. To feel something other than pain and sorrow. The grief never goes away. But slowly, it starts to feel less like loss, and more like love." She inhaled shakily, "I know what you're feeling right now. I know why you're drowning your sorrows in that shit, trying to drink yourself to death." A tear slips down your face, her hand squeezing yours gently: "But you have to understand… What you're feeling right now, that's love. You're not a bad person for how you try to kill your sadness. But it's not gonna work."

You're unable to contain the choked sob that escapes your throat. The tears come harshly, scorching saline against your skin. Maria shifts her weight from the chair onto the bed, holding your shaking frame: "It's okay… Let it out." Her hands cradle your head, smoothing over your disheveled hair. "It's all my fault," you gasp between sobs, "I never should've left them. It's all my fault." Maria shushes you, "No, honey. You don't really believe that. You want someone to blame, but you're not that person."

Eventually, the tears cease. Your breathing evened out as Maria held you, "I miss Joel, so fucking much." You could feel Maria nod tenderly, "I know Honey." A lone tear slipped down your cheek, "Do you think— do you think he'll find me?" Maria pulled away, her chestnut eyes meeting yours, "Truthfully, I don't know." With a deep sigh, she squeezed your hand— "But I know he wouldn't want you to live like this. Isolating yourself from everyone else. You're allowed to grieve, but please don't shut me out. You're my person." You clutch her hands, squeezing firmly: "Even at my worst?" Her arms curled around your torso once again, "Even at your worst."

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

The warmer seasons passed with haste. A wintertide blanket of white gradually covered Jackson. Day by day, Maria and Tommy were able to pull you out of your depressive stupor. You had to admit, they made quite the team. Maria was ultimately right, Joel wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life a bedridden drunkard. But still, life without him was arduous. There wasn't a day that passed that you didn't think of Joel Miller. About where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he missed you as terribly as you did him.

As much as you wished to focus on these melancholic thoughts, new developments began to bloom in Jackson. Tommy and Maria's blossoming love was hard to ignore and impossible to disapprove of. Watching two people whom you adored fall in love, it felt as though nothing had changed: No cordyceps, no raiders, just Jackson and all of its inhabitants. Perhaps you could find peace in that. When Maria told you that they were expecting, you were over the moon. Maria and Tommy deserved it, Jackson deserved it. Proof that the world is not over— that no matter the circumstances, mankind will prevail.

You threw together a small wedding ceremony with the help of the florist and local bakery, the couple wanting to tie the knot before the baby's arrival. Joking about how "shotgun weddings" withstood the test of time. Something arose in you, a pang of jealousy— Envious that you and Joel never got the perfect white wedding. It disgusted you, so you buried it deep within the recesses of your heart.

The winter was hard, the Wyoming chill threatening every crop that dared to sprout from the Earth. This resulted in you spending extra time in the greenhouse. You found gardening to be a rather soothing task, being able to nurture new life in a world marked by death and decay. It also provided plenty of time to think: Something that you did not relish. No matter how many times you pushed the thought of Joel away, it always returned. Whether it was at dawn or late at night plaguing your dreams.

When you weren't at Tommy and Maria's house or at the Tipsy Bison, you were in the greenhouse. The small shack sat right on the outskirts of town, situated with the perfect view of downtown Jackson. The glass panes shut out the cold, trapping any warmth inside. You bathed in the basking glow of the sun, gravitating towards it as a Sunflower would. You weren't sure when thoughts of Sarah became joyous, memories no longer met with choked cries but instead with soft chuckles. Nonetheless, you welcomed the growth. It's how she would want you to remember her.

You watched the clock that hung just above the door, a mere estimation of the time: 12:15 p.m. You carefully removed your dirt-caked gloves, setting them on the wooden bench beside you. Your stomach growled impatiently as you began the journey downtown. The air was frigid despite the sun's rays, the cold slowly numbing your fingers. As you ambled towards town, Stanley came jogging towards you: "Hey! Just got word from the gates that Maria's back. Brought some stragglers, two, I think."

You nodded in his direction, "Alright. Thanks, Stan." The soft crunch of snow beneath your feet accompanied you as you approached downtown Jackson, an air of excitement and uncertainty radiating off of the townsfolk. It wasn't every day that Jackson came across people who weren't just blood-thirsty raiders looking for valuables. As you rounded a corner, you overheard a commotion, the sound of yelling. Strangely, it didn't sound angry or fearful. It sounded... happy.

Midtown came into view; the construction that was being worked on was now abandoned. Immediately, your gaze fixed on two figures in the middle of the street embracing. That was... not typical. You could make one man out to be Tommy; his black curls contrasted starkly against his warm taupe skin. The other was taller and broader, his hair disheveled and graying. Behind them you could make out Maria on horseback, next to her was a young girl, who couldn't be older than thirteen.

Maria's expression was borderline unreadable, a mixture of trepidation and relief. Until her eyes met yours, then her face softened. A look of tenderness emerged. Everything about this situation puzzled you— Until the two figures broke apart. The man stood inches from Tommy, his hands gripping Tommy's shoulders firmly. His face was sunken with exhaustion and hunger; a vast smile overtook his face. A smile you would recognize anywhere.

He looked just as he had twenty years ago, only now his hair was significantly longer and his beard gray. His face was now littered with wrinkles, just as yours was. A telltale sign that time had, in fact, passed, that the world fell apart right in front of your eyes. Your fingers dug into your thigh. You surely would've drawn blood if not for the layer of denim protecting your skin. You knew you were grieving, but hallucinations seemed extreme. You took a hesitant step forward, still on the opposite end of the street.

Maria beckoned for you. Your name seemingly catching Tommy's attention as he turned towards you. As the men stood side-by-side, it was impossible to deny. Their likeness evoked something in you— realization. You weren't dreaming, you weren't hallucinating. He was there, just a yard away: Joel Miller. His gaze found yours, eyes searching your face in disbelief. Your name left his mouth like a question, but it sounded like a prayer.

He stepped forward as if he was testing the waters. You repeated his action, "Joel?" A smile broke across his face once again, causing you to break into a sprint. He jogged forward, careful not to slip on the icy gravel. Tears began streaming down your face, their warmth countering the icy chill. Before you could slow down, your body collided with his. His arms were tense, his hold fastening around you. You'd only dreamt of this moment for two decades.

You weren't sure how long you stood like that. Head nestled firmly against his chest, tears staining his leather coat. His gloved fingers gently grasped your chin, pulling your face from its sanctuary: "Baby... Fuck, I can't believe it." His eyes searched your face for any sign of unease. He could find nothing but pure joy: "You found me. I searched for you, Joel Miller, for 16 years. And you found me."

Joel let out a breathy chuckle, cut off as you captured his lips in a velvety kiss. At first, it was chaste.— A silent admission of consolation, twenty years in the making. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip, prompting him to groan as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. After a moment, a loud cough erupted from behind you. You reluctantly pull away, your forehead resting against his. Your hands cupped his cheeks, eyes glassy with relief and adoration: "After all this time?" Joel leans forward to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, "Would wait forever f'you, Darlin'."

divider by @saradika

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #fragilefable #ೃ༄ wren writes

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