#i might just mention 'i know we are not engaged yet but i want to start setting funds aside for when we do get married

[pleasureable]

Love Potions

Summary - Thanos was used to having girls throw themselves at him. As he got older, the feeling of simply using somebody for self-gratification became exhilarating for him. He never thought a girl could have him in a chokehold until he met you, pink haired and all.

Warnings - Mentions of weed, reader has pink hair again because yes, high school au, kinda short (2k word count, was too exhausted to make it any longer please forgive me), ooc thanos once again? please excuse any grammatical errors, not really proofread

A/N - Might be my last long piece on here for a little, I'll probably write some drabbles or head cannons here and there, though! Once again, thank you so much for all the love on Pink Goes Well with Purple, it warms my heart so much every time I see all the engagement on it.

Thanos never took anything, or anyone, seriously. Girls had always found him attractive, and halfway through his 7th-grade year, he realized he liked female attention. He had never genuinely liked someone, though. Every girl he decided to "pursue" was either too clingy or as he would put it, "too much of a cock-drunk bitch".

Knowing exactly how to play the game, he approached all his intended targets with feigned interest and used their obvious attraction to him to his advantage. He would stick around for a few days pretending to care about their likes and interests, then dump them like toxic waste once he got them into his bed. He loved how these girls would completely submit themselves to him, he loved how he could openly toy with them yet still have them begging for his love and affection.

Thanos loved the power.

He had woken up to his phone buzzing from its lying position on his nightstand. "20+ unread messages from Lindsey", the notification read. "Hop off my fuckin' dick, bitch" he mumbled in his groggy, half-awake state. He had gone to some random house party with his buddies the night before, all in hopes of getting totally shit-faced and finding some bimbo who would be willing to help him get his dick wet.

To his annoyance, friends of Lindsey's had taken candid photos of him swapping spit with some chick in a corner. He didn't care about Lindsey's feelings; he just didn't want to deal with her inevitable tantrum once she was informed of his actions. He was getting ready to dump her anyway as she was probably the clingiest of the girls Thanos had been with. Always going off on jealousy-fueled tangents regarding his flirty attitude toward other girls, always begging for him to "change his ways for her". Ha, in your fucking dreams.

Arriving at school, he was immediately greeted with the sight of her tear-stained face, "What the fuck were you doing last night, Thanos?! I saw you kissing some fucking bitch at that party last night!" She wept, though it clearly wasn't phasing him. Thanos wore a stone-cold expression as he walked through the halls of the high school with Lindsey hot on his trail. He spotted his history class and walked in, leaving her behind, the door closing firmly in her face.

The first few minutes of class went by in a blur, usual rambling from his teacher and stupid antics from his friends give a monotonous tone to his already shitty day.

Without warning, the classroom door swings open.

You walk in, clad in your black Aeropostale tracksuit, pink hair lightly curled with slightly red-rimmed glassy eyes. Students turn to look at you, some wearing an  expression reminiscent of admiration. "Oh! You must be Y/N", the teacher said. "Have a seat wherever, we were just getting ready to start class."

He couldn't help but check you out. To him, you were quite possibly the most beautiful, angel-like thing he had ever laid eyes upon. His eyes scanned you up and down, staring at the way your tits looked squeezed into your jacket, a small diamond-studded necklace with your initial resting perfectly between them. Miraculously, you opted to sit in the empty seat right in front of him. The smell of sweet perfume and hint of weed that clung to you was intoxicating, filling his nostrils and leaving him entranced.

You shattered Thanos' cocky facade in an instant, leaving his mind a complete blank. The fact that he felt a way no other person had ever made him feel before didn't go unnoticed by him, and he wasn't so sure he hated it. The chance to talk to you presented itself, and he immediately began racking his brain to figure out what to say; in the end, he settled on asking for something simple: a pencil.

"Hey señorita, you got a pencil I could borrow?" He asked. You turned your head and began to look at him over your shoulder, his breath hitched. Your eyes were breathtaking, everything about you was perfect. You pulled a pencil from the pocket of your sweatpants and handed it to him, your pretty manicured nails catching his eye. "You can keep it." You spoke, voice as soft as silk. The pink, glitter-ridden Hello Kitty pencil you handed him made him crack a smile, you were adorable.

You had just met him but even so, Thanos was already feigning for you. He wanted you, wanted to know what those pretty pink lips of yours taste like.

Class went by in a flash, the only thing Thanos recalled from the past hour was him admiring your curves through the openings on the back of the school chair. Once the bell rang, everyone began to exit the room. You left the classroom so swiftly that it was almost ghost-like, Thanos scrambled to leave as quickly as you did, not wanting to let you out of his sight. Just as he was about to follow you through the halls, his buddy caught up to him and grabbed onto his shoulder. "Yo T, that new girl? Fuckin' hot shit." His friend Nam-Gyu spoke. "Back off dude, I call dibs." Thanos said, jealousy apparent in his voice.

“What? Since when do we call dibs on girls?” Nam-gyu responded, his face twisting in confusion. Thanos never cared about girls enough to publicly claim them as his, but you were different. He could feel it.”Since now, man. She’s fuckin’ perfect, I don’t know what it is about her.” Thanos said, just the thought of you was already clouding up his thoughts in the best way possible. Nam-Gyu realized his friend was serious, he’d never seen Thanos act this way over anyone. As surprised as he was at his friend’s sudden new attitude, Nam-Gyu was still a tad bit annoyed he couldn’t have a piece of you. You were hot shit, after all. “Whatever, man.” Nam-Gyu huffed. 

The last thing Thanos really remembered from today was going into the boys bathroom to hide from Lindsey (and to smoke some weed), as she was still currently hunting him down like some deranged serial killer. He hadn’t seen much of you since history class, though he could probably blame that on the blunt he had hit. He remembered seeing slight flashes of pink throughout the day, but that’s about it. He kept a mental image of the way you looked at him when he asked for that pencil, your pretty, doe eyes were unforgettable. 

The next morning, for the first time in a very long time, Thanos felt like he had something to look forward to that day. Knowing he got to see you again was enough for him to get out of bed with the energy mimicking that of a little kid on an intense sugar-high. 

Once at school, he made b-lined for his history class. He was the very first student there but he didn’t care, all he cared about was getting to see that certain pink-haired angel walk in once again. As students began to pile into the class, he finally caught a glimpse of you. Your white lace camisole gave you an ethereal glow, complemented by the delicate, gold heart-shaped locket around your neck. Your fitted jeans accentuate your curves, and the subtle shine of your belly piercing added a touch of allure. Just as Thanos felt like you couldn’t get any better. 

Though, for obvious reasons, Thanos wasn’t the only boy who had his eye on you. Once you had sat down, his jaw began to tighten when he noticed Myung-Gi practically having a staring contest with your body. His pre-existing hatred for him only grew the longer Myung-Gi’s eyes lingered on you, a little green monster marking its territory inside of him. 

Thanos reached out his hand to tap your shoulder. “Hey, you got another pencil I could borrow?” he asked, a sheep-ish grin making its way onto his face. He realized the stupidity of his question but deep down, he just wanted to get a one-up on Myung-Gi. His breath hitched once more as you turned around to look at him. “What happened to the one I gave you yesterday? Lost it already?” You asked, “Lost? Nah, it’s just playing hard to get.” His dumb joke made you laugh a little, and to him, it was like pure music to his ears.

“Well if I give you another one will you lose it?” The flirty undertones of the conversation had begun making themselves apparent. While Thanos was pretty appealing, it was clear he was the kind of guy you wouldn’t necessarily want to be romantically involved with. Just because you wouldn’t date him didn’t mean you couldn’t have your fun with him, though. “If losing it means I get to talk to you again, then no promises, beautiful.” Thanos playfully replied, topping his sentence off with a wink. Cute, you thought. “Well then in that case, here you go, handsome.” You handed him another pencil, My Melody themed this time.

You two had spent the rest of the class period chatting, with the occasional scolding from your teacher for laughing just a little too loud. Once the bell had rang, Thanos stopped you in your tracks before you could exit the classroom, “Why don’t you give me your number so that we can hangout sometime, beautiful?” He asked. For maybe the first time in his life, Thanos The Great feared rejection. He had always thought of himself quite highly, but you were greater than every god or goddess that had ever lived. He didn’t want to mess this up.

You smiled. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a pink gel pen and swiftly wrote your digits down on the soft skin of his hand, to his relief. “Send me a text soon, grape jelly.” You shot him a playful glance before turning around and vanishing into the sea of people flooding the hallway. For a moment, he just stood there, admiring the neatly written numbers on his hand, his heart full. 

Upon his arrival home, Thanos immediately ran up to his room. Throwing himself onto his bed, his mind began to ponder on what to text you. His desperate need to have you was becoming unbearable for him, he needed more than just a conversation to fill the you-shaped hole in his heart. Just as his mind felt as if it was continuously falling into a seemingly endless hole of contemplation, his phone buzzed, signifying the arrival of a text. “You down to get high, grape jelly?” The text read, the stupid (but cute) nickname confirming your identity to him. It was as if his fingers had a mind of their own because in an instant, they began typing up a reply.

 “Of course, sweet thing. Where are we meeting?” 

“Meet me at the park near school in an hour.” You replied.

Excitement was all that was running through Thanos’s head at the thought of spending alone time with you. You were completely and utterly heaven sent.

He began to blast music while laying on his bed, just staring at the ceiling in an attempt to pass time. He continued to fantasize about you, everything about you. Your angelic facial features, your body, your voice. The way you looked at him for the first time. He hadn’t known you for even a week, yet already you were making him feel things that girls he’d known for years had never even come close to making him feel. 

Laying there, in his current state of rumination, Thanos realized this was the closest he had ever come to feeling peace in a very long time. 

When enough time had passed, he snapped out of his thought-induced daze and began to make his way downstairs. Being careful not to wake his parents up, he unlocked the backdoor to his house and shut it behind him, starting to make his way to the designated meet up spot. As soon as he started approaching the park, he noticed a silhouette sitting down at a dimly-lit bench. Getting closer, he recognized the unusually colored hair. 

“Hey, beautiful.” He called out. You looked up from your phone screen to see that now-familiar purple headed man. “Hi.” You responded, a gentle smile taking its place on your face. You passed Thanos the already lit joint in your hand once he took a seat on the bench next to you. He took a hit, paused briefly as the smoke lingered in his lungs, then exhaled, letting the thick cloud roll from his mouth. Taking turns passing the joint amongst yourselves, a peaceful ambience fell upon you both. A sense of calm wrapped around your mind, pushing away the slight nerves you were previously feeling caused by the idea of being alone with Thanos. “I like you, Thanos.” You spoke, the marijuana giving you the courage to speak your mind freely.

“I’ve had my eye on you ever since you got here, beautiful. You’re breathtaking.” He responded. You turned to look at him, tilting your head slightly. “So that’s what the flirty attitude was about?” Giggling, it was all starting to make sense to you. “Of course. Just look at you.” He began to scoot closer, maintaining eye contact. Your pretty, red-rimmed eyes looking up at him made him smile. The sense of euphoria was almost palpable, as if the air itself buzzed with an electric warmth, wrapping you both in a blanket of bliss and exuding a feeling of weightlessness.

Thanos had gotten so close to the point where the tips of your noses were touching. Your current situation felt like a dream, a dream which you didn’t want to wake up from. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, heart racing as the air between you seemed to grow thicker, filled with an unspoken sexual tension. “K-kiss me, please.” You whispered, the need to feel his mouth on yours becoming hard to endure. He pressed his lips to yours, his breath warm against your skin. The kiss deepened, his lips parting slightly to explore yours slowly, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand slid to the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer, the intensity building with every second that passed.

As you pulled away, both of you were left breathless, your lips tingling and a bit swollen from the intensity of the kiss, cheeks flushed. “You’re good at kissing,” you said, feeling a bit dizzy from the lip-locking. “I could say the same thing about you, pretty girl.”

You ignited a fire within Thanos, and its cause was inexplicable. Maybe it was your friendly and gentle nature that drew him to you, but whatever the case was, you made him want to be better. You had him under a love potion, and he wasn’t planning on breaking the spell anytime soon.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

proclivity - pt. six - motion sickness

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ [7k]warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was originally posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

You laid with Rafe on that white fleece blanket for what felt like hours. You nuzzled your face deeper into his chest, as you recounted some more of the trauma that you had experienced at the hands of JJ, listening to the constant beat of Rafe’s heart. You knew that when that sound ever stopped that you’d cease to exist. Rafe's phone rang loudly, bringing you out of your conversation and he dug through the pocket of his khaki shorts glancing at the screen - it was Topper. As he answered the phone, he gave you a knowing look, letting you know that the conversation wasn’t over. You made a mental note that you were going to have to have a chat with Top about calling at the most inconvenient times. Rafe rolled his eyes but drug his large finger across the screen to answer the facetime call. 

“What is it, Top?” 

Rafe questioned, rolling his eyes. 

“That’s no way to greet your best friend, jackass.” 

Topper quipped, a smile on his lips.

“Well, I’m a little busy right now.” 

Rafe replied, moving the camera to show you laid on his chest on the beach.

“Shit, my bad. Have you taken her to pound town yet?”

Rafe grimaced, Topper must've thought you were asleep because there was no way he’d say that with you conscious. 

“No, he hasn’t.” 

You whispered out, looking up at Rafe with sad eyes and he swallowed thickly. At Topper’s words, you wondered if that’s all this was, some sick ploy to sleep with you or to break your heart on purpose. Realization of the fact that you just shared some of your most vulnerable parts with him made your stomach sink, but you quickly pushed it down. 

“Hey, shit. I’m sorry Y/n, I was just messing with Rafe. He really likes you.” 

Topper spoke with a tone so genuine you decided to relax a little. 

“I think I got that top, thanks for the info.” 

You quipped, bringing light-hearted energy back to the conversation. Though, you knew you’d have to talk to Rafe about what he said in private. 

“Anyways, losers. There’s a party at my house tonight. I expect to see you two there.” 

Topper urged. 

“We might make an appearance. We’re spending time together though so probably not.” 

Your heart leapt at his words, he was willing to give up a party to spend time with you. Who was this new and improved version of Rafe Cameron? 

“Well spend time together at this party.” 

Topper urged again, stronger this time. 

“We’ll think about it, bye Top.” 

Rafe’s tone was gruff and annoyed. Topper was still talking but Rafe hung up the phone not wanting to hear anything else he had to say. 

“We can go if you want to, Rafael.” 

You spoke sweetly, giving him a smile, as he hung up the phone. 

“Are you sure, angel? This is our day, we don’t have to.” 

He reassured you, placing a hand on your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to spend time with the boys, it’s okay.” 

Your cheerful, radiant smile sent a shiver down his spine. When you gave him that smile, he knew he’d do anything and everything to make you happy until he breathed his last breath. You were such a ball of sunshine, his sunshine, that’s all Rafe could manage to think as he smiled at you, thankful for your kind, free-spirited, go with the flow nature. He almost couldn’t believe all you had gone through, he didn’t truly want to believe it. It hurt him to think of JJ’s hands on you, hurting you. 

Truth be told, Rafe didn’t need to go to this party, he didn’t even want to. But, you saying that he could meant a lot to him and it meant even more that you’d be there with him, on his arm. You laid with him for a bit longer, watching as the sun went completely down, the light pink and orange hues turning to the black of night before you began packing up the remnants of your picnic and headed to the truck, your hand in his. 

-

It was ten o'clock when you made it to Topper’s house and you felt yourself wanting to let loose a bit. As Rafe made his way around the island of the kitchen, he poured himself some tequila in a red solo cup and asked Topper what he had for you to drink. 

“Top, what do you have that y/n can drink?” 

Topper’s eyes looked like they were going to fall out of his head. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry, y/n. I didn’t pick anything up for you.” 

He placed his head in his hands. 

“It’s okay, Top. I can have a drink or two. It’s no big deal.” 

You shrugged your shoulders and your eyes met Rafe’s. He was angry. How could Top be such an idiot, he thought. How could he ask you to come and not think of you when buying beverages? You could tell the thought of alcohol being in your bloodstream made him uneasy. 

“There’s insulin in the truck, okay? You tell me if you start to feel weird.” 

He reassuringly rubbed his hands up and down your arms and craned his head down where you could reach him. Standing at six foot four, he towered over. He could see the lust present in your eyes and when he leaned in close enough, you locked your lips with his. The kiss was passionate and slow and it felt like everything in the room had disappeared, like it was just the two of you standing there. Then you heard the voice of your abuser. You pulled away and gave Rafe scared eyes as you surveyed the room, looking for where his voice was coming from. He knew what was happening, the fear that you displayed and the voice he had grown to hate told him what was wrong. He didn’t need to ask. 

“Hey, angel. Look at me. It’s okay. Need you to promise you’ll tell me if you start feeling bad before I get you a beer, okay?” 

“I promise I will.” 

You replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. He took you out of the kitchen and led you outside to the bonfire where Topper and Kelce stood, in hopes that getting you away from JJ would be enough to calm you. It was - you knew you were safe in the presence of Rafael, let alone of all three of them. Rafe stepped away for only a moment, grabbing you a beer from the cooler, and popping it open before handing it to you. The coolness of the bottle sent a shock through your arm. He made his way back behind you and you leaned up against him, his hands on your hips. You took a sip of the beer in your hands and leaned your head back against Rafe’s pectoral muscles, craning your neck to the side as he leaned down and peppered kisses to the exposed skin. You were entering bliss when you heard the all too eerily familiar voice of JJ Maybank. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

He taunted and Rafe’s eyes shot to his, the grip he had on your waist tightening in protection. Rafe scoffed, not wanting to give JJ the time of day or put you in harm's way by starting a fight. 

“You like my sloppy seconds, Rafael? Tell me, how does she taste?” 

“Don’t you dare call him that, JJ.” 

You spat. Rafael was his name so anyone could really use it. But not JJ. He didn’t know Rafe well enough to even use the nickname his parents had given him, let alone the name you used as a term of endearment. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know? There’s no sloppy seconds, when you never had someone to begin with, Maybank.” 

Rafe retorted, his voice sinister, begging JJ to egg him on. 

“Sweetheart, tell your boyfriend to watch his mouth or I'll put a matching scar on the other cheek.” 

He grinned cheekily and Rafe grabbed you by the shoulders, moving you out of his path as he stalked toward JJ. Topper and Kelce stood, chests puffed out at his remark, confused about what he meant but the promise of a threat towards you putting them in a mode of protection. 

“What the fuck did you say?!” 

Rafe growled in his direction. 

“I said, It’d be a real shame if I had to put another scar on her pretty little face because you don’t know how to behave, wouldn’t it?” 

The crunch of Rafe’s fist hitting JJ’s jaw echoed across the beach, as the blonde flew back under the weight of his right hook. Rafe moved swiftly toward JJ, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, landing not one, not two, but three more blows to his cheek. 

“You’re not ever gonna touch her again!” 

Rafe screamed as his fists relentlessly wailed into the side of JJ’s head, blood splattered up and landed underneath Rafe’s eye.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Cameron. I’ll touch her whenever and however I want to.” 

He coughed out, JJ was a cocky bastard who didn’t know when to shut the fuck up, even when he was being pummelled into the ground. At his remark, Rafe hit him so hard that he thought he was dead for a second. 

“You had enough, Maybank?” 

Rafe asked as he drew back from JJ, still holding him by the collar of his shirt.

“Not even close.” 

He grunted out before spitting in Rafe’s face, Rafe’s hands released JJ in an attempt to get the saliva off of his face. He was disgusted like anyone would have been. JJ took the opportunity and lunged on top of Rafe, pinning him to the ground, and laying a hit on Rafe’s cheek. You and Topper made your way to them quickly, no longer being onlookers. Topper pulled JJ off of Rafe from behind. JJ was too fast though and wiggled out of Topper’s grasp by the time Rafe was back to his feet. You quickly inserted your body in between them, thinking that was a sure-fire way to stop the fight. It wasn’t. Before you knew it, you looked in JJ’s direction out of the corner of your eye and his fist collided with your nose at full force. Shock littered Rafe’s face and anger infiltrated every fiber of his being. 

“Told you I’d touch her how I wanted to.” 

JJ remarked, a sinister smirk residing on his face. It was one thing to hear your first-hand account of JJ’s abuse but it was another to watch him put his hands on you, accidental or not, and Rafe went absolutely feral. 

“Topper, Kelce, get her out of here!” 

Rafe yelled, taking in your shaking, crying form, as your hands covered your face. Topper did as he was told, lifting you bridal style and taking you back towards the house, sitting you on the steps, instructing people to move out of the way before kneeling in front of you. Kelce followed shortly behind.

“Y/N, are you alright?” 

Topper questioned softly, grabbing your knee, and squeezing it to give you some reassurance. You continued crying. 

“Come on, pretty girl, let me see it.” 

“N-no, T-top.” 

You choked out. 

“I need to look at it, y/n.” 

“N-no.” 

You continued to sob uncontrollably. Topper made his way behind you, taking a seat and placing you in between his legs. 

“It’s okay. Rafe’s gonna be here soon, it’s gonna be fine.” 

He whispered into your hairline and squeezed you tightly into a hug. Kelce knelt down in front of you, slowly coaxing you to pry your hands away from your face. When you did, the shock that both boys felt at the sight of your nose was enough to send them reeling. Topper looked at Kelce, his eyes laced with venom and specific instructions and Kelce knew exactly what it meant. He needed to go to Rafe. He nodded his head reassuringly, placing a kiss on your cheek before stalking toward the bonfire where the fight had originated. When Kelce made it back down to where Rafe was, he held off on approaching him fully and instead watched as Rafe stalked toward the offender, hitting him so hard that he knew JJ Maybank was barely conscious. Truth be told, he wanted his best friend to pummel him into the sand, he wanted him to suffer, to be laying in a hospital bed for what he had done to you and Kelce would make sure that whether it was Rafe or not, that’s what was going to happen. He continued to look on at the scene, Rafe punching JJ over and over again. Blow after violent blow landing on JJ’s face, stomach, and chest. He deserved it, Kelce knew that, but what he didn’t expect was Rafe to continue the blows, with seemingly no end in sight. He began to wonder if Rafe could stop if he could control himself enough to be able to. He should’ve expected it because Rafe Cameron had been in love with you since pre-school and anyone who dared to try and hurt you or take you away from him was sure to pay a hefty price. Kelce had paid his the summer before eighth grade when he made a comment about your ever-growing breasts. Rafe had bruised his ribs and his ego for talking about you in such a vulgar way, especially in front of him. 

Kelce was brought out of his thoughts and began to make his way toward Rafe when he looked on and saw Rafe pinning JJ’s right arm behind his back, preparing to snap the bone in half if that’s what it took to send the message to the Pogue to stay the fuck away from his girl. 

“Rafael!” 

Kelce yelled at him, which got his attention immediately. The boys did not use his full name. Rafe looked in his direction with bewildered eyes. 

“I’m a little fucking busy, Kelceo.” 

He spat. 

“I get that, but you need to get up here and check on her. I think he broke her nose. Besides, she doesn’t need to watch you be an animal, Rafe. You’re not that guy anymore.” 

Rafe swallowed the words of his friend and gingerly nodded, realization hit him, Kelce was right. He threw JJ to the ground, knowing that for the first time in his fucking life Kelce wasn’t saying some dumbass remark, he wasn’t being an asshole or a bully, he was doing the right thing and currently, the right thing was keeping his best friend out of prison for murder. Instead, keeping him where he belonged, with you.  

Rafe’s tall figure quickly stalked towards you, fear in his eyes. Your hands covered your face as the blood pooled from your nose. The crunch of the bone could be felt with every nerve ending that inhabited your body. He kneeled in front of you on the balls of his feet, hands hovering over your figure, afraid to touch you in fear of hurting you worse.

“Baby, I need you to talk to me. How bad are you hurt?” 

“R-Rafael…”

You whimpered violently, your hands clutching to your face, blood pooling down past your chin. 

“Come on baby girl, let me see your face. I need to look to fix it.” 

He spoke sweetly and you trusted his every word. Slowly lifting your hands away from your face, your eyes met Rafe’s worrying form. You winced at the lack of pressure on your wound and fought to get your hands back to it. Before you could complete the movement, Rafe grabbed you by the wrists. He took in the already forming bruises under your eyes and the way the bridge of your nose now sat at a bend that protruded out to the left side. 

“Okay, baby. It’s okay. You look so pretty. But I think your nose is broken so I need to take you to the hospital, okay?” 

“I-, I don’t wanna go, Rafe.” 

You choked out a sob, whimpering into his chest, as he pulled you in. Blood soaked the shirt he was wearing but he didn’t care. You needed to be held and that’s what he was going to do. 

“I know baby, but I just want to get you checked out, okay? We gotta make sure you're alright.” 

You nodded, giving him permission. Which you were thankful he waited for and you felt his strong arms lift you up, carrying you bridal style, your head resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat and the scrunch of his button-down moving up and down with each step he took. 

“I’m sorry, Rafael.” 

“Shh. Nothing to be sorry about, angel.” 

He cooed, placing a kiss on your hairline. 

“I’m getting blood all over your shirt.” 

“It’s okay, you can always buy me a new one.” 

He quipped, making you giggle, and even though it made you wince, you were thankful it was laughter created by him. You were brought out of your thoughts as Rafe finally came up on his truck. You marveled at how he opened the door, with such ease, not even shifting you in his arms to readjust. He was so strong and you loved it. He placed you into the passenger seat, buckling you in and reaching into the center console from which he retrieved a box of baby wipes. He had started keeping them in his truck after the first nosebleed he got during football practice and it had been a lifesaver ever since. Today, they’d be used for his girl and while that made him cringe, he was thankful he had them on hand. He slowly pulled them out of the container and stilled his hands, not wanting to spook you. 

“Okay, sweet girl, I’m going to clean your face up, alright?” 

You hummed in response, talking made it hurt worse and Rafe knew that so he didn’t probe you any further. Once he had your permission, he gently brought the wipes up to your nose and chin, wiping the blood off of your face as he stood between the passenger side door and the seat you occupied. You winced in pain at the feeling of the cold wipes against your bruised flesh. 

“I know baby, I know it hurts, I’m so sorry.” 

“s’okay Rafey.” 

You muttered. 

“There we go, my pretty girl is all cleaned up, no more blood.” 

He gave you that classic, bright, panty-dropping Rafe Cameron smile and pecked your lips lightly, careful not to touch your nose, but wanting to give you some sort of reassurance that you were safe. You gave him a forced smile and he closed your door, making his way to the driver's side, hopping in and starting the truck. He gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze before pulling off, heading toward St. Olive’s emergency department. 

- 

After hours of x-rays and CT scans and waiting, the doctor had confirmed yours and Rafe’s worst fears, you had a displaced nasal fracture, which meant they had to pop it back into place. Rafe knew the procedure would be painful, he had dislocated his shoulder before, and when it was popped back into place he screamed like a girl. The memory was enough to make him shudder and the fact that his sweet angel had to deal with that level of pain made him want to cry. He held your hand when a doctor and a nurse brought in long silver tools that looked like medieval torture devices. When your fear-stricken eyes met him, he almost collapsed. Rafe stayed up by your head, sitting on a stool beside you, stroking your hair as you lay flat on the bed. The anticipation of the pain you were about to feel took over all of your senses. You genuinely just wanted them to get it the fuck over with. They injected you with numbing medication first and then quickly got to work, inserting the tools up your nose and pressing hard against the bone. The crunch made Rafe feel sick and it made him feel even worse when he looked down at you and saw the tears running down your face. He placed a kiss on your forehead and continued running his fingers through your hair, while the doctors applied the splint to your nose. After the conclusion of the procedure, you were released from the hospital back into Rafe’s care. Luckily, you slept most of the way home from the pain medicine they had given you before your departure. As you and Rafe quietly made your way into the house, you were met with the unexpected - Ward. His voice bellowed through the thick air of the foyer and the lights flickered on. He was angry and you couldn’t blame him. He was just being a good dad, a good person. 

“Rafael Joseph Cameron! What were you two doing out so late?! I’m supposed to take care of her while her parents are out of town. How in the fucking world can I do that if you are gone all hours of the night?! Huh?!” 

“Sorry, Dad-” 

Rafe stuttered, Ward’s wrath was the only thing in the world that he seemed to be afraid of.

“It’s my fault.” 

You spoke, your voice soft and tender, which took Ward away from his anger just enough to voice his concern. He noticed the pained expression you displayed as you moved the ice away from your face and revealed the cast that sat on your nose. 

“What the fuck happened?!” 

Ward questioned, moving closer to you, hands out in search of your cheeks. You winced away from his touch and Rafe grabbed his wrists. 

“Dad, don’t touch it. Her nose is broken, they had to pop it back in place. She’s in a lot of pain.” 

Rafe all but barked at his father, his mind associating him as a threat. Ward’s eyes softened. 

“Sweetheart, how did this happen?” 

His voice was no longer bellowing through the halls of the mansion, it was soft, caring, and kind. It reminded you of Rafe, which was odd considering you were almost sure all of the good qualities in him came from his late mother, Kate. 

“Rafe was defending me at a party and the guy had him pinned down. I got in the middle and the guy hit me.” 

“Son, is this true? Why were you fighting? You know my rules about fighting.” 

Ward’s tone was still soft, but disappointment laced his voice. You knew his rules about fighting. Rafe wasn’t allowed to fight unless he was on the brink of death or he was protecting someone else. Ward was very strict about that and always had been. Though most of the tomfoolery and fights Rafe had been in over the years Ward was unaware of. 

“It was her ex. He’s hurt her before and he said something smart. I just lost it, Dad.” 

Rafe looked down, waiting for Ward’s wrath and disappointment. He lifted his son’s chin, so his eyes could meet his and placed his hand on his cheek. 

“I’m not mad, Rafael. I’m just glad you both protected each other tonight. Now, go upstairs, get some rest and we will talk in the morning.” 

Ward instructed and the two of you quickly obliged, heading for the staircase. Rafe led you with an outstretched hand that you clung to until you made it to the bedroom. 

“You want me to run you a bath, baby?” 

“I’d love that, Rafael. Thank you, sweet boy.”

You smiled as best you could, any movement hurting the newly broken part of your face. Rafe momentarily stepped out and into the bathroom, leaving his robe on the bed for you to change into. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and as much as he wanted to gawk at your beautiful body, he knew now wasn’t the time and when the time came, it would be special. You quickly undressed, wrapping the robe around you. It was white and fluffy and warm, like a fleece blanket. The best part about it was the intoxicating smell of Rafe that lingered in every fiber. You made your way to the bathroom, walking into Rafe being bent over the side, hands dipped in the water to make sure it was just the right temperature. You stood there in the doorway, gawking at the way his bicep contracted as he leaned over the edge of the tub, pouring the bubbles in. Everything about him turned you on, even the way he was blissfully unaware of your presence. You cleared your throat and he turned his neck to look in your direction, arms still outstretched, muscles contracting, as his body leaned over the bath he was preparing for you. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” 

His sweet smile made your knees weak. How could he think you were pretty right now? ‘It’s just a nickname, he doesn't mean it’, you thought. 

“Hi.”

You spoke timidly, making your way into the bathroom and sitting on the lid of the toilet seat. You continued watching him as he finished up, turning the water off, and moving his body toward you.

“Are you ready to get in angel?” 

He asks, squatting in front of you, holding your hands in his. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” 

You sheepishly smiled, looking into his bright baby blues. He gently pulled you to your feet, holding your hands in his. 

“Let me step out so you can undress, baby.” 

“No.” 

You all but yelled at him, but quickly composed yourself. You wanted him to see you, to see all of you. 

“No?” 

He looked confused and it made you giggle. 

“It’s okay, Rafael. You’ve seen me in a bathing suit, this is no different.” 

You played it off, knowing it was indeed very different. You were about to be naked in front of the boy you had been in love with for your entire life. It was very fucking different. 

“It’s very different, sweetheart.” 

He replied, emphasis on the ‘very’. 

“It’s okay.” 

You reassure him with a smile and before he can protest, you drop the robe from your shoulders. He shuddered as it hit the floor and his eyes were invaded with the sight of you - your breasts, plump and beautiful, sitting pretty in front of him, begging, screaming, crying for him to touch them. You watched him swallow thickly and stepped closer to him, eyes boring holes into his. 

“Do you like what you see, Rafael?” 

You questioned, your lips turning upward into a devilish smirk. You knew what the fuck you were doing. Though you weren’t sure how you had never even been naked in front of JJ. This just felt so different, so easy. 

“You have no idea how much.” 

He replied simply, trying to keep his voice even. He took your hand again, helping you lower yourself into the bubbles and once you were seated he went to exit the room, so you could have time to relax after having such a hard day. 

“Rafael, where are you going?” 

“I just thought you’d want time to relax baby.” 

“Well, it’s hard to relax without you, ya know?” 

You playfully rolled your eyes as you joked. 

“So, you want me to sit with you, baby?” 

He was anxious for your answer, not truly knowing what you wanted from him at this moment - casual sex, intimacy, or both. 

“I want you to get in with me, sweet boy. Just hold me for a little while.” 

His lips turned up into a smile and he quickly stripped himself of his clothes, placing one foot into the tub and sitting behind you. He spread his legs, pulling you back into him and you laid your head on his chest. 

“How’s that, pretty girl? Is this what you wanted?” 

He smirked into a chuckle but as much as you wanted to laugh you heard that stupid nickname again and it made you cringe. 

“Don’t call me that, I’m not that.” 

Your voice was weak and feeble. He was taken aback by your declaration because you were that. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

“Do you not like it at all or just right now?” 

You almost cried at the sweet question and how well he knew you, how in tune he was with your feelings. 

“Just right now, I think. I just don’t feel very pretty right now.” 

“I know, baby. But, nothing has changed. It’s just a broken bone, it’ll heal.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’m just worried, ya know. I mean, what if when it heals, I don’t look the same or you don’t like me anymore?”

“Baby, you gotta slow down, okay? Just breathe. You are the most beautiful person in the world, inside and out, even when you’re hurt. That’s never going to change. I’m never going to not love you.” 

“Y-you love me?” 

“I do. I sort of always have.” 

He replied boldly. You couldn’t believe the words you were hearing, he loved you too. After all this time, he loved you too. 

“Is it okay if I clean you up, baby? I’d prefer if you weren’t covered in blood when I tell you that I love you too.” 

You questioned him and a smirk danced across your face. His eyes shot up at the confession laced in the back of the nonchalant nature of such a simple sentence, such a simple question. He was absolutely floored. You loved him too. How long had you loved him too? You took the wash rag in your hands, wringing it out and bringing it up to Rafe’s face, gently wiping the blood away from underneath his eyes, around his mouth, on his cheeks, and in his hairline. You dipped it back into the water, making sure to clean each wound with intent and care, placing a kiss on his nose when you were done. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone take care of me like that.” 

He gruffly spoke, attempting to clear his throat. The way you made him feel was electric, every fiber of his being, every nerve ending, every muscle was on fire for the way you cared for him. 

“Your mom did, I know that for a fact.” 

You spoke sweetly and he smiled, knowing you were exactly right. Kate loved him deeply and cared for him like this. Maybe that’s why he loved you so much, you reminded him so much of her. 

“Let’s go to bed, Rafael. I’m tired.” 

“I know you are baby.” 

He placed a kiss on your temple, taking your hands and helping you stand in the tub, wrapping a towel around your shivering form. He quickly dried off and helped you out of the tub, leading you back into his bedroom. You dried off the best you could and sat on the edge of the bed, the towel wrapped around you beneath your armpits. Rafe was rummaging through his dresser, looking for clothes to wear to bed for the both of you when you ushered him over to you. 

“Rafe, come here.” 

Your voice was soft, but it was coated with desire and longing. He took in your still naked form, thanking whatever Gods were on his side for letting him be here with you, thanking you internally for letting him see you like this. He made his way over to you, following your instructions, and sat on the bed next to you. He was nervous, being naked beside you sent chills down his spine, the water no longer providing any modesty for either of you. He ran his hand up and down his knees repeatedly, seeing him this nervous made you smile. 

“What is it, angel?” 

He questioned, afraid to touch you in fear of making you uncomfortable. 

“Can you just hold me before we put clothes on? I just want to stay like this for a little while.” 

“Is that all, angel? You had me worried for a second. Come here.” 

You let out a soft giggle, removing your towel and crawling onto his lap, straddling him, the tip of his dick brushing up against your core. He bit back a groan and you felt him grow hard beneath you. You knew what the fuck you were doing and you smirked as you laid your head on his chest. He held you there, rubbing soft circles into your back as he fought to gain his composure. Getting his dick wet was the last thing on his mind, even with your antics. He wouldn’t allow his physical desires to fuck this up. He finally had you, finally knew that you loved him and wanted him too and he wanted your first time to be special. He looked down at you at the exact moment that you looked up at him, his eyes locking with yours. You plunged your lips into his, bringing your hands up to his face. His mouth opened slightly, letting you in. Your tongues fell in sync with each other, like they were meant to wrestle against each other for all of eternity and maybe they were. You panted for air, pulling away, moving to place gentle kisses on his collarbones and his broad shoulders. He pulled back, pushing you a bit, creating a barrier between the two of you. You swallowed thickly at the hurt you felt, at the rejection. 

“We should stop.” 

He spoke, his tone even, and it shattered your heart into a million pieces.

“I-i’m sorry. I know I’m not experienced, I know that’s not attractive.” 

Your voice shook with embarrassment and your eyes went to your hands which were no longer holding on to Rafe’s arms and instead were in your lap. You squeezed them together, a habit you only took part in when you were extremely anxious. You cursed yourself, you couldn’t even kiss him right, you couldn’t do anything right. Rafe’s hands cupped both of your cheeks and his blue eyes could see the sadness laced in yours.

“Hey, don’t do that.” 

He spoke softly, continuing to cradle your face in his hands, staring into your eyes so he’d know you heard every word he was about to say. 

“Do what?” 

You asked innocently, unsure of whether he was referring to you kissing him or something else. 

“Don’t go to the bad place in your head. Everything’s okay.” 

You brought your eyes back down to your hands, as he let go of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Can you t-tell me w-what I did wrong?” 

Your face became a deepened shade of red and he furrowed his brows in confusion and his eyes softened. 

“Baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just-, if we do this when we do this, I want it to be when you’re my girl like officially. I don’t want us to have to guess and I want you to be sure I’m who you want your first time to be with.” 

Your jaw dropped at his confession, at his sweet words. You giggled. 

“Rafael, who did you think I was saving it for? I’ve been your girl since we were seven years old.” 

He leaned in and you followed, letting his lips softly graze yours, breath hitching in your throat at the feeling of him. You felt euphoric as he kissed you with equal parts passion, violence, and gentleness. His hands made their way to your breasts hovering over them a bit too long. He was still afraid to touch you but you needed him to. You growled into his mouth, which sent him into overdrive, all his senses burning for you. 

“Wrap your legs around me, love.” 

He whispered against your lips. You followed his directions and he stood with you in his arms, turning to place you flat on your back on his bed. He knelt in front of the bed, where your legs hung over the edge, and took your left leg into his hands, gently kissing from your ankle up to your thigh. You writhed under his touch, his mouth being mere centimeters from your core. 

“You’re beautiful, y/n. Thank you for letting me touch you like this.” 

He whispered out and you gave him a sheepish smile.

“Are you sure you want this?” 

He asked sweetly, breathing over the space where your thigh and vagina came together in an attempt to tease you. 

“I’m sure.” 

You breathed out, hands wrapping themselves in Rafe’s hair, pulling at the golden brown locks. At the sound of your permission, Rafe began kissing at your entrance, rubbing his thumb over your g spot ever so slowly. You wriggled under his large hands, groaning loudly when the sensation of his lips met your sensitive nub over and over. 

You’re so utterly lost in the kisses, in the way his mouth feels against you that you almost forget to breathe. 

“I’m gonna put a finger in baby, need you to tell me if it hurts, okay?” 

You eagerly nodded and became undone as his finger bottomed out inside of you. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 

“How’s that feeling, baby?” 

“S-so g-good.” 

You said, breathlessly. 

“Gonna add another, baby. Tell me if it hurts.” 

You again nodded as quickly as your head would move. He slid in another one of his long fingers, bottoming out inside of you, letting you adjust before beginning to move them back and forth, picking up the pace and curling his fingers as he felt you clench around his hand, reaching your climax. 

“Rafe, I think I have to pee.” 

You spoke sheepishly and he chuckled. 

“That’s not pee, baby. That’s your body telling you that what we’re doing is making you feel good. You’re about to have your first orgasm.” 

He smiled reassuringly and you gingerly nodded, again ashamed at your lack of knowledge and experience. Rafe pulled his fingers out of you and you missed the contact. You let out a tangled whine. 

“It’s okay, baby. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Thank you so much for letting me touch you like this.” 

You smiled at his reassurance, running his fingers through his hair as he placed kisses under your belly button, where your largest pump site scars resided. 

“I love these scars, baby. I love you so much.” 

“I love you, Rafael.” 

With no warning, he plunges his tongue inside of your delicate entrance and you feel yourself clench around him, your stomach knotting up once more and your body chasing the high that he was giving you. You hoped what he said was true and that you weren’t about to pee in his mouth, as the damn was breaking around you and the knot within your stomach busted, releasing every feel-good hormone your body held. All you could see were stars as your vision blackened. You looked to Rafe after a moment, your chest heaving up and down. His pupils were blown, desire lacing them. 

“How was that, beautiful?” 

He questioned, looking up at you with a smirk as he placed kisses over your tummy once more. 

“Let’s do it again, but this time, I want you inside me.” 

You quipped in a serious tone. You needed him to know you were serious and you wanted him, all of him. 

“As you wish, baby. Are you on the pill or do you want me to use a rubber?” 

He asked gently. 

“I’m on the pill, sweet boy. Thank you for asking, but I want to feel every inch of you.” 

He simply nods in response and parts your legs a bit more, throwing your ankles over his shoulders as he positions himself in front of your entrance. You watch him, eagerly waiting for the moment he’s going to be inside of you. He hovers over your face, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“Honey-, listen, this is going to hurt a bit, okay? But I promise it’ll feel better quickly. I need you to talk to me through it, okay? I need to know how you’re feeling the whole time.” 

“Okay, baby. I promise.” 

You smiled brightly up at the gorgeous man hanging his head over you, leaning up to kiss his nose. 

“I’m ready, Rafael.” 

He nodded and kissed you passionately on the lips, moving down the entirety of your jaw and neck before landing on your breasts, grazing them with his tongue. You sharply inhaled at the new sensation. He gently bit down, sucking at your hardened peak. You groaned loudly, letting him know to stop teasing you. 

“Rafe-” 

You all but yelled his name, letting him know he was frustrating you. 

“Patience. Tell me what you need, baby.” 

His voice remained sweet, he sensed your need for him. 

“Put it in, already!” 

You grunted and he let out a belly laugh. 

“Okay, baby. All you had to do was ask.” 

He smiled, lining his tip up with your entrance once more and gently pushing in. Before you could even process what had happened, tears leaked out of the sides of your eyes. He was big, much bigger than you had anticipated. Rafe leaned down, wiping your tears away. 

“Am I hurting you, angel? You can tell me, I won’t be upset.” 

“No, it’s just uncomfortable.” 

He gingerly nodded, knowing what you meant. 

“I know baby, I’m sorry. It’ll be over soon.” 

He gently placed kisses all over your face while he bottomed out and waited for you to adjust to his size. 

“Okay, you can start moving.” 

You spoke, the feeling of his dick sending you into a euphoric state. Nothing has ever made you feel this good in your entire life. Rafe’s pace quickened as he pounded in and out of you. You felt the familiar knot grow in your stomach and threw your head back. 

“How’s it feeling, pretty girl? You’re so pretty like this, baby. Thank you for letting me see you like this.” 

“S-so good, Rafe.” 

He hit you with another hard thrust, scraping against your sweet spot once more.

“Rafe, I’m gonna cum-” 

You gasped. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’m right behind you. Go ahead, angel.” 

He whispered into your hairline as he leaned down, peppering kisses on your collarbones. The new position let him hit your sweet spot and you screamed out as the second wave of pleasure wracked through your body. 

Rafael-, I love you so much.” 

You screamed out as he held you, letting you ride out your orgasm. He kissed your forehead as you came down from your high. He pulled out of you, already missing the warmth.  

“I love you too, sweet girl. Are you mine?” 

“I’m your girl, forever.” 

You breathed out against him, letting him run into the bathroom to grab something to clean up with before cuddling into his chest and falling into a blissful sleep. 

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[simple-and-cozy-life]

I think I might have a conversation about getting engaged or at least having the thought of setting aside money for a wedding.

I don't want to rush my love and he can propose when he's ready, but I want to see if he'd be interested sooner than later so I can get some plans in place.

It'll be two years until I finish up with my master, but I am going to be busy and I'm not sure if I can plan a wedding while stressing about school.

I also can wait and see how grad school treats me.

I'd also like the clarity of plans for the future and something to work towards.

It would also be so much easier to explain that we're engaged instead of being in engagement limbo of "we're engaged, just not officially".

I might at least mention something to him when we have a three hour car ride to his extended family this weekend.

Any thoughts, friends?

[chuluoyi]

✎ daddy-to-be

- gojo satoru x reader

in which you're worried about how he'd react to you carrying his baby

genre: fluff and comfort, mentions of pregnancy and dizzy spells

note: i feel soooo warm writing this *sigh* thank u anon who asked this!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Gojo-sensei! Must we do this?"

"For real?!"

"Okaka..."

"Yoohoo! Hehehehe~"

You sighed at the sight of your tall paintbrush of a husband. Satoru was supposedly teaching his first years—Maki, Panda and Inumaki—and yet, from where you were standing, it looked more like he was bullying them into following his whims more than anything.

A kind reminder that… this silly man is the father of your unborn child.

He didn't know that you were pregnant yet, because you had discovered it just a few days ago and chosen to keep it a secret for the time being.

In theory, this was normal. You two were married and engaged in a high level of sexual activity—something Satoru made sure of—and therefore, conceiving a child was bound to happen sooner or later.

Admittedly, accepting the fact that you were carrying his baby wasn't as easy as you thought, even knowing that. You hadn't seriously talked about having kids, and sure, your husband might have just taken a young cursed boy Yuta into his care—and way before that, Megumi, but it wasn't the same with your own child. It can't be the same.

And not to mention that you two were jujutsu sorcerers. Where would raising a baby fit in this bloody, cursed world you lived in?

...and above all, as things stand now, does Satoru even want a baby?

You released another sigh as you walked away, but then your vision tipped and you had to grab the wall for support. Right, you hadn't even been feeling well these past few days. You got queasy easily, and you experienced sporadic bouts of vertigo too.

"Sensei?" Yuta's worried voice greeted you, and you forced yourself to remain upright. "Are you okay?"

"Ah, yes, I'm fine," you assured him with a smile.

"Should I get Gojo-sensei? You seem pale..."

"No, no, that's—"

"Ooh~ Wifey!"

You cursed his impeccable timing as the striking white hair of your husband came to view. A mischievous grin adorned his face, a bundle of sunshine and trouble as always, as he wrapped an arm around you.

"Don't you have to teach the second years? My pretty wife, you can't be slacking—"

His smile abruptly fell when you subconsciously leaned on him and he noticed your shallow breaths. Satoru promptly tightened his grip on you.

"Yuta," his tone had taken a sharper turn. "Go to the training grounds and train with the others. Class ends after that."

As Yuta nodded and proceeded on his way, he immediately turned to face you. "What's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern. "Are you not feeling well? Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," you insisted, even though the edges of your vision started to blur.

Satoru pursed his lips, and you could tell even with his blindfold on, he was staring at you hard. "Don't be stubborn. Come on, let's get you home."

In an instant, he teleported you back to your shared home, his arms securely under your knees. You didn't know when the dizziness started to ramp up, but you were sure to fall if he didn't have a secure grip on you.

"How long have you been feeling unwell?" he inquired as he carefully lowered you onto your bed.

Realizing there was no point in hiding it any longer, you squeezed your eyes shut as your head rested on the soft pillow. "...since this morning."

Satoru expressed his dissatisfaction with a grunt. "In that case, you shouldn't have gone to school. From now on, you're on leave."

He fussed over you—removing your shoes, fine-tuning the air conditioner, and ensuring you were snug in bed. "What is causing you to feel this bad? Is it something you ate? We had dinner together, and I feel perfectly fine..."

You raised your gaze to him just as he tore off his blindfold, his eyes locking with yours. The blue of his eyes scrutinizing and assessing you, and suddenly, you felt insecure as he quirked an eyebrow, seemingly suspecting something. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”

This is it. You couldn't keep this from him any longer. This was his child as much as yours, he had to know for you to be able to decide on the next steps.

You exhaled. "I'm… pregnant."

Silence. For the next five seconds, you could've sworn that Satoru held his own breath.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, stunned, widened cerulean marbles blinking several times. "You...?"

You sat up, reaching for your nightstand and retrieving the five pregnancy tests you had stashed in the drawer, handing them to him.

Satoru fixed his gaze onto the two red lines on the sticks, examining them and then shifting his eyes between you and them several times. You didn't dare to look at him, feeling your hands starting to shake and your gut twisting.

But contrary to your dread, before you could blink, he pulled you into his embrace. Your heart melted as he softly murmured, "Dummy, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I... I was worried. I didn't think I..."

He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in deeply. "Silly... I'm supposed to be your safe space. You can and absolutely should tell me these kind of things..."

A lingering fear persisted in your gut as you croaked out, "Are you... okay with it?"

Satoru snapped his head so quickly, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean—of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

You didn't know why, but his impromptu and steadfast declaration brought tears to your eyes.

"Stupid," he chided, his voice tinged with slight giddiness and overflowing fondness, and doubled with the wide grin on his face, you were starstruck. Holding your hand, he pressed a tender kiss on your knuckles, and then on the wedding band resting on your ring finger.

His sincere, warm eyes spoke volumes as he said, "You are my beautiful, lovely, and amazing wife. And now you're about to make me a daddy. Why wouldn't I be thrilled about that?"

You had given him love that saved him in countless ways, some of which you might not even realize. And now, you were about to gift him another piece of you to love—his own family to cherish. Satoru was convinced he couldn't love you more than he did in this moment.

You cried even harder, wiping your face sloppily as you pouted at him, voice clogged with tears, a mixture of relief and happiness overwhelming you. "Why are you so s-sweet? You're u-usually... such a menace..."

"Hey! That's slander! I'm always nice to you!" he protested with a mock frown, trying to lighten the mood.

Satoru brought you into his arms again, affectionately stroking your hair. His excitement was palpable as he chuckled gleefully at the very idea of becoming a father to a mini-him or you in a not-so-distant future.

With that sentiment in mind, he genuinely meant every word of what he softly uttered in your ear:

"I love you, sweetheart. And mark my words—with everything I have, I won't let anything happen to you or our baby… I swear it."

[propertyofwicked]

YOUR NECKLACE - LN

no warnings just fluff + some SMAU <3 (one mention of sick, no specific detail)

-> lemme know ur thoughts! my inbox is open!! <3

masterlist the playlist

after successfully keeping their relationship secret for 9 months, lando truly believed it was time for him to properly introduce his girlfriend to the world of motorsport. she’d attended races before but always under general admission, usually alone, but sometimes accompanied by the likes of max and p. and it wasn’t as if the fans didn’t know who she was, they just knew her as ‘y/n who works with quadrant’, ‘y/n that reset the cones in the driving video’, ‘y/n that keeps her social media private’ - never once being considered lando’s girlfriend, which worked well for the two.

the panic had set in that morning as she dressed for the day, her hands constantly running over her outfit, checking the way she looked in the mirror from every angle - she wanted to believe that no one would care, or even notice that she was there, but deep down she knew that making the jump from general admission to paddock would gain some chatter on twitter.

“you look perfect,” lando had whispered in her ear from behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist as he tugged her away from the mirror.

“maybe they’ll just think im helping with a quadrant project,” she said absentmindedly, more trying to convince herself than actually respond to him.

“maybe,” he nodded along with her, mulling over his next words, “we can walk in separately if you want? they might not assume anything if they don’t see us together?”

“it’s not that i dont want us to be seen together,” she told him as she moved to the floor, tying her shoelaces up, “i just hate to think what’ll be said about me if they do.”

“i know, angel,” he reassured her, offering out a hand to pull her up, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead when she returned to his level.

the journey to the track was a quiet one, the two of them engaging in light conversation, eventually deciding they’d just walk in together, keep PDA to the minimum and ‘run and hide at the first sign of trouble’ y/n had joked.

lando paced up and down his drivers room, the sleeves of his racing overalls swinging with every step, from where they sat around his hips. he was getting into the right mindset, music playing, and yet his mind raced with every fear of the looming race.

“sit in the garage,” he asked her, halting his pacing to turn and face her.

“what?” she replied, half unsure she’d misheard him.

“watch from the garage - please,” he repeated moving to take steps towards her, noticing the way her fingers twisted at the rings that adorned them.

“are you sure?” she checked, as he grabbed her wrists to stop her anxious fiddling.

“never been more sure in my life,” he told her, using her arms to pull himself closer, joining the two of them in a sweet kiss.

“ok, ill be there,” y/n responded against him, parting only for a moment before connecting their lips again. the kiss was short and sweet, cut off by oscar knocking telling him it was time to go.

she stood in the garage, smiling at a few engineers she recognised before finding herself a seat. the nerves were washing over her again, but now they were for lando. y/n always worried during races, scared on his crashing, worried he wouldn’t perform as well as everyone knew he could. her hand reached up to her chest, instinctively searching for her necklace - lando had bought it for her before they were even together, knowing from the moment she smiled at it and looked up to thank him that this was it for him, she was his future. but the necklace wasn’t there, the girl panicked slightly, fearing she had lost it or it had fallen off before concluding that in her distraction this morning she had simply forgotten to put it on.

that’s ok, you’re a grown woman who can control her nerves. you don’t need a necklace to calm yourself down - you’re not even the one racing she told herself, letting out a deep sigh as she tried to believe herself. no one else in the garage seemed to notice her, a fact she was fairly happy about, hoping that the same would be said for the hundreds of news and tv stations priming their cameras for the race.

but someone had noticed her, recognising the look on her face as the same one she had been wearing all morning. only lando could decipher what her expression meant - she was nervous, of course, scared for him, but also filled with a small buzz of excitement - he couldn’t quite understand how one person could feel so much all at the same time, and not combust on the spot. nevertheless he jogged over to her.

“lando? aren’t you supposed to be like, getting your helmet on?” she asked him, shocked slightly at his sudden appearance. he looked at her, his hand tugging at the top of his fireproofs and pulling his own necklace from where it was trapped behind the fabric.

“forgot to take this off,” he told her, hands moving behind his neck to unclasp the metal, “will you look after it for me?”

she nodded up at him, her outstretched hands halted as he stood close, hands moving the metal around her own neck and clasping it. the metal dropped against her skin, the warmth from him wearing it transferring to her.

“thanks, love you,” he told her, a rushed kiss planted on her lips before he jogged away from her again.

his face carried a smirk as he left her, knowing he hadn’t truly forgotten to take the piece of jewellery off. in actual fact, he’d noticed her missing necklace the moment they’d arrived at the track and made it his mission to have his own hung around her neck, almost as a badge of honour. the two had agreed to keep their relationship private from the public, somewhat of a secret - but now she sat in his garage, wearing his necklace. it was the bare minimum display of the love they shared, but it was enough for him, and it was enough for her.

oscar quirked his eyebrow at his teammates smirk, receiving a quick tell you later before the two pulled their balaclavas down.

the gesture was so simply and so subtle and the girl was oblivious to the moment being caught on camera. the moment a yellow flag was called, the sky tv cameras filled the wait time by zooming in on the faces of loved ones sitting in each drivers garage. however, y/n remained oblivious to the lens focusing closely on her, the camera closely capturing the way she fiddled at the necklace before dropping it as normal lap conditions resumed.

"good day then?" y/n asked him softly, her head resting on his bare chest as she listened to his heart beat - lando felt the way her cool fingers fiddled with the necklace around his neck. that godforsaken necklace, quite frankly the only necklace to ever cause so much uproar online.

"soft launched on live tv and p3? i wouldn't have it any other way," lando replied softly, chucking lightly as his hand brushed through her hair.

“that checks out, mr nowins,” she teased, tilting her head to grin at him.

"being with you is a win in itself," he replied, taking the nickname in his stride.

"gross," the girl responded, pretending to vomit at his attempt at being cute.

“i am sorry though - i should’ve known that would happen, i should’ve checked with you before hanging the “lando’s girlfriend” sign around your neck,” he replied with a sigh, his head dropping to press a kiss to her forehead, his cheek resting on her head as they spoke.

“it’s ok lan, i knew there was a possibility of something like this happening,” she replied.

“and it was fairly subtle - we could probably play it off for a little longer,” lando suggested, knowing that neither of them were quite ready to expose the extent of their relationship just yet. at least this had given them the opportunity to be a little more careless with their efforts to hide from the public. they were private, not secret, and lando couldn’t be happier to preserve this part of his personal life for a little longer.

“im just glad we no longer have the responsibility of a big announcement,” she laughed, “god knows we’re both too lazy for that.”

“who’s we?” he grumbled jokingly, “im the one with the public account. besides, im more than hard launched on your page.”

“ah the joys of an ordinary life,” y/n joked, her arms stretching out in feigned bliss, “however i feel like i should steer clear of twitter for a while.”

“that’s probably for the best,” he agreed, his tone saddening slightly at the memory of things he’d seen posted about not only his ex girlfriend, but some of the claims people had already began making about the girl lying below him.

“hey!” she started noticing his change in mood, and pushing her body weight back to look at him, “none of that. today is a good day. trust me, ill take any excuse to get my screentime down.”

“i love you,” he told her, grabbing at her body to pull her back into his embrace, “more than you could imagine.”

liked by maxfewtrell, team_quadrant and 111,230 others

landonorris soft launching on live tv wasn't enough, time to promote her to the gram

comments on this post have been limited.

maxfewtrell so glad i dont have to worry about slipping up on stream anymore

-> maxfewtrell chat aren't ready for what i have to say.

maxfewtrell 2nd photo is a violationnn - ynpng, pietra.pilao u gonna let this slide?

-> ynpng am i fuck. pietra.pilao we ride at dawn.

-> pietra.pilao omw queen.

-> maxfewtrell run landonorris whilst u still can

-> pietra.pilao you told me you deleted that photo maxfewtrell - sleep with one eye open xx

ynpng hate u with every fibre of my being rn <3

-> landonorris nuh uh

-> ynpng gonna unprivate my acc and let the world see the video of you falling down the stairs

-> landonorris might accidentally leak the video of you and the shoe incident

-> ynpng you wouldn't dare.

-> landonorris you wanna bet?

[maelancoli]

Adding Tension After the Ship Happens

i feel a lot of slow burn ships lose steam after the characters finally get together, whether it's just from sleeping together or them actually engaging in a relationship, so here are some ideas for how to maintain steam.

their problems are not solved now that they've crossed the thresh hold

first things first, the plot itself i'm sure has other details than just their relationship. even the most fluffy of fluff has other things going on than kisses and giggles. don't abandon these details once the relationship truly begins. and if there was any kind of unresolved tension point or previously mentioned ex/trauma/insecurity/fear bring it back! bring things back around that might put a strain on a new, tender relationship. this can either make them have problems or be a way to develop their bonds and *show* it in action. any of these foreshadowing/resurrected points can be added in edits if you didn't start out with them or with retconning if you're writing rp/fanfic. all the writers do it. we see it in tv everyday it's ok if u gotta pull a rabbit from a hat.

their relationship will not be suddenly smooth and solid as if they have been married 20 years

okay they kissed/fucked/agreed to be together. now what? what circumstances kept them from getting there sooner? are those circumstances still present and how will they deal with it as a team? you also don't have to have characters officially together once they've done something physical. there is still discussion to be had and boundaries/expectations to establish. those conversations could be interesting to explore. and, even more-so, this is the perfect point for plot to happen and keep them from being able to have those conversations when they should. you can add angst, you can add miscommunication, you can add anything that tickles your fancy. especially a perfect time to have an ex return to cause some tension and uncertainty if they haven't made it official. they don't know what they are yet and that uncertainty is a delicious point to write it and really give the characters a hard time

utilize the main plot's tension

again, if you're writing more than just a contemporary fluffy romance, the romance should enrich the main plot. the romance as a subplot should be a component which merges with the main storyline and does not take away from it. if you don't want to milk the will-they-won't-they anymore than you already have it's time to build the relationship up in the midst of OUTSIDE conflict. let them disagree about how to resolve problems. let them butt heads. let them be scared and do and say stupid shit because they're scared. let them be worried or angry or frustrated and have to figure out how to balance their newfound vulnerability with who they are and were before that point. let them hurt each other a little so they can come back together stronger.

utilize the characters around them

if it is a plot which is mainly romance filled, then think about the tension from the lives around them. think about their loved ones and how their own issues could influence the plot points the characters have to face together. this could be a time for them to be introduced to loved ones. you could throw in a group trip with silly mishaps and shenanigans. you could even have loved ones try to break them up or doubt the love interest. navigating new relationships while also dealing with friends and family can be a source of plot and tension in and of itself. this can be a point to let love interests reassure each other and prove their salt. it can help them grow closer. it can be the heroic moment for one of them to stick up for the other or prove they're there for them no matter what.

overall if you're struggling with what to do after the slow burn feels like it's sizzling out it's time to zoom out. make sure you are not losing the whole picture of their environment or steamrolling past the real development of new relationships.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 2, Moving noises?

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day! Also, every time I write another chapter to this story I have to update the warnings and it isn't even that spicy yet.

Mature content under the cut.

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'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you. 

'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.' 

Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.' 

'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.' 

'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.' 

'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.' 

'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow. 

'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.' 

'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.' 

'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.' 

'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down. 

'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement. 

'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it. 

'So?' 

'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara. 

'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?' 

'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.' 

'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.' 

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To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression. 

Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that. 

So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right. 

You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow. 

'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant. 

And a switch flicks in your head. 

'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him. 

His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.' 

'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you. 

'You know Tara?' You nod. 

'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway. 

He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’ 

'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second. 

"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully. 

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The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start. 

Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content. 

But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did. 

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky. 

A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition. 

He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.  

“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans coming through the air extractor fan followed by a string of whimpers. Those must be connected to each other. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips. 

And then he presses record. 

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Previous - Next

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[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 9 (jjk)

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

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

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

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

☆warnings: alcohol, curses, Jungkook gets jealous, mentions of smoking cigarettes, explicit content: reader catches nabi and namjoon in the act, brat!OC, car blowjob, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, praising, hickey, mouth fucking, nipple play, fingering, protected sex

☆word count: 11.2k

☆a/n: new week new chapter!! and with this one, half of the fic is done (only half LMAO). Hope you guys enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

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

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Sunday, March 10th 

Jungkook’s chest moves up as he takes a deep breath, disrupting your quiet comfort.

Your eyes slide open to reveal his phone, and he’s scrolling through reels on Instagram, the sound off. You nuzzle your face further into his chest, and he holds you tighter for a few seconds.

“I thought you’d fallen asleep,” he says, his voice rumbling in his chest against your ear.

You sigh. Though it’s late evening and driving home has been draining - the sex you had when you finished eating dinner even more so - you don’t quite want to fall asleep right now. Maybe because tomorrow you’ll wake up and you’ll have to go back to class, to face Ria and Nabi and all your friends that know yet don’t know that something is going on between you and Jungkook.

“I was almost asleep,” you admit. “But I don’t want to sleep yet.”

“Why not?”

His attention is solely on you now, his phone forgotten, and so you raise your head to meet his tender gaze.

“I want to spend more time with you,” you whisper.

His lips stretch in the softest smile, his eyes sparkling with all the light in the universe. “I’ll still be here tomorrow, peach.”

You know it. You know you still have weeks with him, but tonight you feel like the end might be coming for you quicker than you want it to.

“And the day after?” you tease.

His arm tightens around you, and he moves so that he can peck your lips once. “I’ll still be right here.”

“In your bed?” you ask, faking surprise.

He laughs, a sound so sweet and so intoxicating to your senses. “Yep. With you in it.”

“Damn, JK, you’ve got plans for us, mmh?”

He just grins in reply, and your heart flutters in your chest as you put your head back on his own chest.

“So if you want to fall asleep…” he trails off, hugging you tighter for a few seconds before pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “Feel free.”

You take a deep breath, nodding as you close your eyes, focusing on the steady beats of his heart. You wonder, does he know your heart has synced with his?

Does he know you’re afraid he’ll rip your beating heart from your chest?

You’ve been thinking. All day you’ve been thinking, and you haven’t been able to ask him. Haven’t been able to have the conversation he said you could have today - about his family, about the shitshow of the engagement party. 

All you’ve been able to do today is exchange pleasantries, stolen glances and holding hands. And you reckon, it should be enough.

Yet the reason why you can’t sleep is because you want to know. Need to know if he truly is set to marry someone else.

“By the way,” Jungkook lets out after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “Tae texted me while you were in the shower.”

“Mmh?” you hum.

“He wanted me to tell you to reply to his texts,” Jungkook concludes. “And you should, before he grows suspicious.”

“He’s suspicious because Jimin said we have something going on after you hosted your friends here the other day.”

“Right,” Jungkook says, and he chuckles lightly. “I mean, he isn’t wrong.”

He isn’t, and you hate that he isn’t. You don’t want Taehyung to know, you don’t want your brother to have the power to take this away from you. Not when you already know life will take it from you by itself.

“I still don’t want him to know,” you admit with a small voice. “He’d hate you.”

Jungkook presses a kiss on the top of your head again. “Then we don’t tell him. You decide.”

You don’t like that he’s giving you this power, but yet again it’s better than when he wanted to pretend nothing had happened after the power outage. It’s progress, steps in the right direction, but you don’t even know if you’re walking the same path as him.

Jungkook has been great to you, he really has, but you haven’t done relationships before.

Will this time around be any different?

“Okay,” you let out. You press a kiss on the warm skin of his chest, before resting your head on it again. “Besides…” you trail off, and your heart squeezes in your chest.

Because it’s time. You need to talk to him about what his mother said, no matter how much it might hurt.

“Besides?” Jungkook repeats.

“Your mother mentioned something to me yesterday,” you admit.

You hear his heartbeat picking up. “What did she say?”

You worry at your bottom lip, take a few deep breaths in to gather courage. “That you’re supposed to marry someone?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply right away. You’re pretty sure you also hear his heart entirely stopping in his chest, but you think that might be your imagination.

“That’s hilarious,” he deadpans a few seconds later, and he lets out a disbelieved chuckle. “I’m not going to marry anyone.”

You raise your head from his chest, seeking the truth in his gaze. And he doesn’t look like he’s lying, not even a little bit. Especially not as he cups your cheek, gently running his thumb on your skin. 

“She said she and your dad spoke to another family,” you explain.

He plays with his piercings, raising an eyebrow. “I’d assume that they mean Gabrielle?”

You’ve never heard that name before, and you offer him a confused look. 

“Or not,” he adds after a few seconds, his brow creasing.

“Who’s Gabrielle?” you ask, and the doubt that seeps through you tastes far too vile.

“A friend from high school,” Jungkook replies immediately. “No one to worry about. Our families were always friends and my parents are obsessed with her.”

It stings. It stings far more than it should - Jungkook’s parents didn’t even give you a chance. Yet they’re obsessed with this Gabrielle, this girl from Jungkook’s past. Your heart sinks in your chest, and you look away from him, unable to hold his gaze.

“Ah,” you flatly let out.

“I don’t talk to her anymore,” Jungkook quickly reassures you, forcing you to look at him again with his firm hold on your cheek. “Last news I had of her was that she was going to study somewhere in Europe.”

You worry at your bottom lip, and Jungkook is quick to pull it from your teeth with his thumb. 

“I promise,” he adds. “She’s nothing to worry about. My parents can’t force me to marry her anyway.”

You take a deep breath and then nod once. The ache in your chest barely eases, but you can see that Jungkook is trying his best. There’s something so endearing about it that you feel yourself soften, and you immediately lean in to kiss him.

The kiss is soft. The kiss is a fire in the hearth during a cold winter evening. It’s a warm summer breeze and a cup of tea on a rainy day. It’s comfort and that, more than anything, finally soothes the ache away. It helps that Jungkook swipes your bottom lip with his tongue, and you sigh as you give him access, your tongues tangling a second later.

Hell, you think you might be able to go for another round. But Jungkook pulls away, lips glistening from your ministrations.

“And about my family,” he says. His voice is breathy, and you feel powerful for the effect you have on him. Though he clears his throat, and the breathiness is gone when he adds, “They’re dicks. All of them. I’m sorry I put you through this.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, and you mean it. “I was mostly just taken aback.”

He nods, adding, “I don’t get along with them well. They wanted me to take over the family business with Junghyun, but I left to study here. My father has never forgiven me, and my mother hates me for the tattoos and piercings.”

You don’t know what to reply. You feel horrible for him, for the smiling boy in the frame on his bedside table. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay.” He smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I got used to it. I’ve found that your friends are your true family anyway.”

His friends. Taehyung. Your brother. The one thing that will make it so you and Jungkook can’t actually be together, ever.

“And now I’ve got you too so, who cares what my family thinks?”

You know he does. Somewhere in the depths of his eyes you see the kid that wished his family loved him, wished he fit in. You wonder how his mother could hate him - he was adorable, endearing with that wide bunny grin of his, even when he was just a kid.

“I guess no one cares,” you reply after a few seconds of silence.

He offers you a reassuring smile. “Told you so.” He pecks your lips again, and then nestles his head back against his pillow. “We should go to bed, it’s getting late.”

“I just have one last question,” you say as you lay your head back on his chest, your gaze directed towards the frame of him and Junghyun. “Who did you go to Disney with?”

Jungkook follows your line of gaze. “Oh.” The silence that follows is heavy, sad. “Our nanny. She practically raised us.”

That makes sense. You don’t think Jungkook would have turned out to be such a gentle, sweet person if he’d been raised by his parents. But then again, he does act like an asshole a lot, and projects that overly cocky and confident aura most of the time. You’ve only recently started seeing this soft part of him.

“She sounds like a great person,” you say.

Jungkook tightens his hold on you. “She was. The best, honestly.”

You smile sadly, your heart straining at the ache in his voice. “Was?”

“Yeah.” He sighs deeply. “She passed away last year.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He shrugs, which proves to be awkward in this position. “It’s not your fault. Nothing to be sorry about.”

Silence falls in the room, and you hold Jungkook a little tighter. As if that will prevent him from breaking, from falling away from you in the inevitability of the future.

“I wish I’d been around then,” you add. “So that I could be there for you.”

“Peach…”

“I’m serious.”

You hear him sniffle, the only indication that he’s getting emotional. And it hits you like a brick to the face - you want to protect this man, at all costs. 

You never want Jungkook to feel sad.

“You’re amazing, you know that, right?” he says after a few seconds. “Like… I’m really lucky.”

“And so am I,” you softly reply. “Luckiest girl in the world.”

He chuckles, his voice still raw with emotion when he says, “You know you’ll have to share a bed with me every night now, right?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, and you don’t balk at the sight of the silver lining his eyes. “A dream come true, if I’m honest.”

He smiles, a sad, sad smile that makes you shift so that you’re lying next to him. You open your arms, and he immediately understands what you want, moving until he’s nestled in your embrace. You run a soothing hand on his back, not caring that he’s practically buried his face in your breasts. Especially not when, five minutes later, his breathing evens out, and he starts emitting those soft snores you find oh so adorable.

He’s left the red LED lights on, and you pat the bed behind him, looking for his phone. He whines against you, though he doesn’t say anything when you finally find his phone. You direct it towards his face to open it, and then search for the app to turn off the lights. 

Once the lights are off, you put his phone away, wrapping your arm around him again, holding him close.

You don’t let go, not even when you, too, fall asleep.

Friday, March 15th 

There’s something about Ria and tequila shots that you can’t quite understand. 

You’re at the girls’ dorm, getting ready for the party tonight. It’s hosted at a frat house, which means your shoes will most likely be ruined by the end of the evening. You don’t really care - you put on an old pair of sneakers that you use specifically for these types of occasions.

But yes, Ria and tequila create something you can’t comprehend. She’s already taken four shots, while you’re on your second and Nabi hesitantly took one, and you know she’s going to be wild tonight.

You think you know why - a certain Kim Seokjin is supposed to be in attendance, and though Ria claims she really doesn’t like him, she’s curled her hair and donned her makeup to perfection for the occasion.

And she’s also visibly trying to get shitfaced, and so you steal the tequila bottle from her hands.

“Hey!” she complains. “Give that back.”

You take a swig from the bottle, immediately regretting your decision. It makes your friends laugh though, and it distracts Ria long enough so that you can put the cap back on the bottle, and you hide it behind you where you’re sitting on the floor of their dorm, in between their beds.

“Is Namjoon going to be there?” you ask Nabi, trying to distract Ria further.

“Yeah, of course! Hobi and Yoongi also, apparently,” Nabi answers. “What about Jungkook?”

You’re happy you’re the type to flush red with alcohol, otherwise your two friends would have a visual proof of the embarrassment that comes with Jungkook being mentioned around you. It’s stupid - you’re an adult, but for some reason the thought of Jungkook makes you all giddy, like you have a school crush on him. 

It’s a feeling you’ve been clinging to this week, despite every odd against you two working out in the long term.

“I think so,” you reply, even though you know for a fact that the answer is yes and that he’s going to be driving you home.

He’s told you so in whispers against your skin last night, when he finished fucking your brains out.

“You think so, or you know?” Ria teases, a smirk on  her lips. “You can pretend we haven’t seen him obsessing over you every time we went to the library this week, but we’re not going to be fooled.”

They do have a point. Indeed, the two times you’ve gone to the library with the girls, Jungkook kept popping in, bringing you snacks or just coming in to chat for a little while. The girls found it funny, and you just found it embarrassing.

Not that Jeon Jungkook is embarrassing. It’s rather the fact that it’s led to thorough interrogations, and you don’t like talking about your relationship with him when he’s your brother’s best friend, and speaking to the wrong person could lead to Taehyung learning about everything.

So you’ve been trying to keep the relationship a secret as best as you can, giving vague answers to the girl and saying that you only went to New York with him because you’re friends, and Jimin wasn’t available to accompany him.

You hid the fact that he’s rich from everyone. Hid the Yves St-Laurent dress in the back of your closet, to only be looked upon whenever you need to remind yourself that the weekend wasn’t a creation of your brain.

So far, you didn’t need to be reminded. Not when Jungkook has been acting so affectionate, cooking you meals and sitting with you when you’re working on reports or studying for your classes. 

“Jungkook is not obsessed with me,” you drawl, even though you think he might be, to the extent that Jeon Jungkook can be obsessed with someone. “He’s just a good friend.”

“You fuck all your good friends?” Ria teases, wiggling her brows.

You punch her in the shoulder, and she bursts into a fit of giggles. “I’m not fucking him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ria says.

“You’ve been glowy since last weekend,” Nabi points out, an innocent smile on display.

You fake-glare at her, but to your relief, a knock sounds at the door, effectively distracting your friends.

It’s Namjoon, as revealed when Ria opens the door, and he steps in with a six-pack of beer, offering you a polite nod as Nabi gets up to hug him. They share a quick kiss, and you fake-gag, earning you a loud laugh from Ria that makes Nabi turn beat red.

“Shut up,” Nabi grumbles through her teeth as she faces you again, and she pulls Namjoon by the hand to sit on her bed.

You remain on the floor with Ria, and she’s successfully stolen the tequila bottle again. She refills the empty shot glasses, handing one to Namjoon and one to you. She gives the last one to Nabi, and she raises the bottle for you all to clink glasses with her, and a second later, the alcohol is burning down your throat.

You’re effectively drunk by the time you make it to the party. Ria is worse than you, while Nabi remains almost sober from all the shots she dodged and handed her boyfriend instead. Namjoon’s cheeks are flushed red, much like yours, and you meet up with Yoongi and Hoseok, where they stand near the wall, faces downcast.

“Hey boys!” you greet them. 

You throw an arm around their shoulders, and Hoseok quickly moves away while Yoongi remains frozen in his spot, arms folded on his chest. It’s sobering, a little, and you furrow your brow as you look between them.

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

Hoseok quickly glances at the rest of your friends as they gather around you before saying, “No. How was pre-drink?”

You immediately know something is up. You feel it in the way Yoongi tenses under your arm, and though he hates being touched, he doesn’t push you away. You cock an eyebrow at Hoseok questioningly, but he only shrugs and then asks Namjoon, “Want to team up on beer pong?”

A moment later, they’re walking away, Nabi in tow, and you motion to Ria to follow them. She takes the cue, though the second she turns around, Kim Seokjin appears, and they stay right there, speaking in each other’s ear.

Once you’re convinced they won’t hear you, you let go of Yoongi, turning to face him. “Is something wrong?” you ask again.

He clenches his jaw, still avoiding your gaze. His arms tighten around him, and he looks like he’s trying to hold himself together, yet barely succeeds.

“Hobi just told me he’s switching colleges next semester.”

You widen your gaze. “What?”

Yoongi chuckles, but it’s entirely void of any joy. “You heard me right.”

“Why?”

Yoongi meets your gaze, his eyes flaming with barely disguised anger and hurt. “I don’t know.”

You wince, nose scrunching up. “I…”

“Don’t say anything,” Yoongi says before you’re able to finish your sentence, which is a good thing considering you had no idea what to say. “I should have seen it coming.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi blinks away some tears, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why you care. You were fucking him like a month ago.”

In truth, a month ago you were pretending the world didn’t exist with Jungkook, as it was the power outage, but you refrain from saying anything. You highly doubt that that’s what Yoongi needs to hear right now.

“Yeah, and I don’t think I should have,” you say.

“Why?” Yoongi asks, sounding offended.

You shrug. “Because you care about him and it was hurting you.”

Yoongi presses his lips in a thin line, nodding once. He doesn’t say anything else, and you don’t really expect him to. Not when Hoseok clearly just broke his heart.

“You know what you need?” you say, pulling his arms away from his chest so that you can hook arm with him.

“What?” Yoongi asks, following you as you pull him through the crowd.

“A drink.”

He chuckles. He doesn’t look quite as sad as he did a second ago, and you reckon that it’s a win. 

You make it your mission to cheer Yoongi up tonight, making sure he always has a drink in hand. You also stay by his side, playing beer pong with him when Ria begs you to play. She’s accompanied by Seokjin, who’s got far more aim than you do, but Yoongi is a decent player. It compensates for a while, until Hoseok appears in the vicinity of the table, and Yoongi tenses so much he looks like he’s turning to stone. You try to take over then, only to be solidly defeated by Seokjin who smiles at Ria as she high-fives him with a wide grin on her lips.

You’ve never seen her smiling so wide with a guy before, and you have to keep your own grin in at the sight, not wanting to upset Yoongi. Instead, you hook arm with him again, pulling him towards the backyard. He begrudgingly follows, though he visibly relaxes the second you’re outside, the cold air a stark contrast from the hot atmosphere inside.

“All good?” you ask.

“Why are you doing this?”

You shrug your shoulders. “You’re a friend,” you offer as an explanation. “The least I can do is be there for you right now.”

“Are we friends?” he queries. He sounds sad again, and you hate it.

“Of course we are! If we weren’t before, we are now.” You try to sound reassuring, and when you see the smile tickling the corner of his lips, you think it’s working. “If you want, we can go sit somewhere quiet upstairs to talk shit about Hobi.”

“Honestly, that sounds like a dream,” Yoongi agrees.

You laugh, and a second later you walk back into the house, Yoongi in tow. The first thing you see as you walk in is Jimin, and you instinctively scan the room, your eyes falling on Jungkook next. It’s like everyone disappears for a few seconds, and your lips stretch in a soft smile he immediately reciprocates, though it slightly falls when he sees Yoongi behind you.

You glance at Yoongi, and he raises his eyebrows in question. You motion towards Jungkook, leaning closer to Yoongi to say, “Just give me a second, I want to talk to my friend.”

He nods, and ends up following you as you walk towards Jungkook, who’s standing with Jimin, Sera, Lisa and some of their other friends you don’t remember the name of.

“Hey,” you greet everyone as you stop next to them.

Your fingers itch to touch Jungkook, but you clench your fist, refraining from doing so.

A chorus of heys reply to you, and you awkwardly stand there for a few seconds before they resume their conversation as if you haven’t interrupted. You feel bad for a few seconds until Jungkook leans in closer to you.

“Who’s that guy?” he asks.

You purse your lips, holding a laugh in. “A friend. He’s going through a breakup?” At least you think that’s the best way to refer to it. “I’m trying to be there for him.”

Jungkook’s gaze hardens as he clenches his jaw, a muscle feathering over his skin. There’s something infinitely attractive about the sight - and infinitely wrong about you to find it attractive to begin with - and you already can’t wait for the evening to end so that you can tangle in bed with him.

“A friend?” Jungkook repeats.

“Are you jealous?” you tease, and Jungkook sends a cautious glance around.

But no one is watching you besides Yoongi, and you know Yoongi would never say anything.

“Should I be?” Jungkook says, frowning slightly.

You wink at him. “Not at all. His breakup is with a guy so… I fear I’m lacking a certain part of my body for him to find me attractive.”

“Could be bi,” Jungkook points out.

“Could be.” You shrug, and then you gently brush your hand on the back of his. “I’ll come find you when it’s time to leave?”

He nods, glancing at Yoongi. You want to reach for him, to hold him close and reassure him that he’s got nothing to worry about, but Jimin is now watching again, so you only step away from Jungkook, re-establishing a safe distance between the two of you.

“Yeah, let me know when you want to go home,” Jungkook replies.

You smile, nodding once before wishing him a good evening. You feel his gaze burning on the back of your head as you walk away, Yoongi following you, and you can’t resist but look over your shoulder when you’re about to leave the room to head into the hall leading to the staircase. Your gazes connect despite the crowd, and your heartbeat picks up in your chest, butterflies swirling in your stomach.

“I’ll grab a beer before we go up,” Yoongi suggests, snapping you out of the moment.

You blink a few times, before nodding your head. “Good idea. I’ll take one too.”

You pit stop at the table where the drinks are, and you end up making gin and tonics since they’ve run out of beer. Yoongi complains he doesn’t like it, but you tell him alcohol is alcohol, to which he offers you a side-eye that has you burst out laughing.

A moment later you’re on your way up the stairs. To outside eyes, you wonder what it looks like - do people think you’re looking for a place to hide so that you can fuck? It’s a funny thought, and you laugh some more as you reach the second floor, and notice the four people sitting on the floor as they talk. They barely look at you as you walk in front of them, heading for a door at the end of the corridor.

Yoongi steps in front of you as you near the door, hand extended to open it. The doorknob turns and he pushes it open, only to be met by an all-too familiar high-pitched shriek. A look over Yoongi’s shoulder reveals Nabi, butt ass naked, sitting on the counter with Namjoon between her legs.

“Oh shit!” Yoongi lets out, yet he freezes, not closing the door.

“Oh my God,” you echo and Nabi flushes so deep red you think she’ll combust.

“Close the door, idiots,” Namjoon grits through his teeth.

Yoongi’s gaze widens, and he immediately slams the door shut. His cheeks are dusted with pink, and you exchange one glance that makes you burst out laughing, wheezing and blinking back tears. You’ve never seen Yoongi laughing like that, which only spurs you on more, until he grabs your hand and tugs you into a bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

“Holy shit,” Yoongi says once your laughter finally recedes.

You nod, wiping the tear that escaped the confines of your eyes. “I know, holy shit. I knew they were getting it on but I didn’t think Nabi would do it at a party.”

“Didn’t expect that of Joon either,” Yoongi admits, and he glances in the general direction of the bathroom. “He used to be such a nerd, and now he’s fucking a girl at a party.”

“Good for him,” you say, raising your glass. Yoongi doesn’t echo the sentiment, instead looking troubled. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

Yoongi shrugs, sliding down until he’s sitting on the floor, his back against the door. You follow him, sitting against a dresser while you wait for him to talk.

“I’m afraid that he might be jumping into a relationship too quickly after…” Yoongi trails off. “After Julia.”

Your brow creases for a few seconds until you figure, “His ex?”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah. They were together for a long time, and he loved her a lot,” Yoongi reveals.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. “You think Nabi might just be a rebound.”

“Listen,” Yoongi lets out. “I saw him during Frosh week. I saw him starting to want to go to parties last semester. I’m not saying it’s because of Nabi…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders again before taking a sip of his drink that makes him scrunch up his nose in disgust. “I don’t know why I grabbed that, it’s disgusting.”

“Hey, gin and tonics are good!”

He throws you a no-bullshit look, and then returns to the conversation at hand. “So yeah, he’s been different where Nabi is implied, but he was with Julia for five years. It’s bound to have had an impact on him.”

Yoongi isn’t wrong, and you hate that he isn’t. You don’t want Nabi to be set up for heartbreak.

“If he hurts Nabi…” you trail off.

Yoongi snorts, the smile he offers you a lot warmer than any you’ve ever seen on his features before. “You’re a good friend, aren’t you?”

You hold his gaze, shrugging your shoulders. “I try to be. I’d do anything for my friends.”

Yoongi raises his solo cup, his lips still curved upwards. “Then, I’m glad to count you as a friend.”

You clink glasses, taking a long sip from your gin and tonic that makes your head buzz even more than it already was. Silence reigns on the room for a moment, a comfortable silence that makes you look around, scanning your environment. Apart from the mattress on the floor and a few discarded pieces of clothing, the bedroom is empty. More clothes overflow from the closet though, as if whoever’s room this is just quickly shoved everything in there before the party.

“What about you?” Yoongi asks then.

You frown quizzically, facing him. “What about me?”

“Jungkook.”

Your throat goes dry, and you hide your blush behind a long sip of your drink. “What about him?”

“Hobi mentioned that something is going on between you guys?”

You’ll kill him. You’ll eviscerate Jeong Hoseok the moment you have the opportunity to.

“Not really,” you lie, though the lie weighs heavy on your shoulders.

Obviously, Yoongi sees right through you, saying, “I saw how you guys looked at each other earlier. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Your cheeks burn as you recall when you spoke to Jungkook. You didn’t feel like you were looking at him a certain way, but then again he has a tendency to steal your attention no matter where you are, so maybe Yoongi is onto something.

“I’m not trying to,” you say, taking a deep breath to chase away the lingering heaviness from the lie. “He’s my brother’s best friend.”

“Your brother, who’s conveniently on a semester abroad right now.”

You narrow your gaze at Yoongi, as if glaring at him. “It’s not convenient. I wish he’d never gone.”

This lie tastes even worse than the previous, and you chase its aftertaste with your drink.

“Right. And then you’d never have fucked his best friend.”

You close your eyes, rubbing a hand on your forehead. “It’s such a mess, Yoongi.”

He snorts in his red solo cup. “Why though?”

“Taehyung can’t know.”

“Why?” Yoongi asks again. “You’re adults.”

“Tae doesn’t think that way,” you admit, and a familiar annoyance flashes through you. “He’s always been overbearing. Like, when I was in highschool he scared all the guys away whenever they tried to speak to me.” Not that you would have dated any of them anyway, but Yoongi doesn’t need to know that. “It was annoying. And now, it’s even worse because JK’s his friend.”

“Or maybe he’ll trust his friend to treat you right, no?”

You wish it were that easy. You wish you lived in the utopia Yoongi’s composing right now, but you know reality to be far crueller than that. 

“Trust Jungkook?”

Yoongi winces, and you hate the drop of doubt it brings back to you. 

It’s the same doubt that had invaded you because of Colton, because of Lisa and Shelly. But then again, you’ve seen Jungkook last weekend. You were there all week with him: you want to believe he’s changed, and for the better.

But would Taehyung see that?

“Anyways,” you say before Yoongi’s able to add anything else. “We were supposed to talk shit about Hobi.”

Yoongi visibly deflates, his eyes dropping to his solo cup as he spins the liquid in it, watching it slosh around. “Yeah.”

“When did he tell you he’s switching colleges?” you ask, as gently as you can.

“Right before you guys got here.”

Damn. You’re friends with Hoseok too, you really are, but you reckon it’s selfish to do something like that to someone at a party when they can’t really do anything. It explains the awkwardness when you arrived though, and for some reason you’re happy you stuck to Yoongi’s side and not Hoseok’s.

You don’t think Hoseok would deserve someone comforting him right now.

“That’s dickish,” you say, and you mean it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s coming out of nowhere too,” Yoongi adds. He sighs, resting his head against the door. “He seemed to say that it was to follow a professor for an internship but still… It’s weird, no?”

“Where is he going?” you ask.

“He didn’t tell me. Just said that it was far.”

You wince. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

Yoongi shrugs, and he downs his glass, gagging after he’s swallowed. “This is really bad alcohol.”

It’s a bad attempt at switching subjects, and you offer Yoongi a small smile you hope is comforting. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had better days,” Yoongi replies, and he sounds infinitely tired. “But thank you for trying to cheer me up tonight. I really appreciate it.”

Your smile is easy, warm this time. “Of course. Anytime.”

You end up staying in that small, impersonal bedroom for a while, the party long forgotten as you chat about everything and nothing. You hadn’t realized before, but you have more in common with Yoongi than you previously thought. You had similar circumstances growing up - that is, fathers leaving when you were too young to even remember them, and older brothers that tried to compensate.

Yoongi tells you about high school, about the first girl he dated. That’s how you learn that he’s bi, and not gay, and you beat yourself up mentally because now you feel like you’ve lied to Jungkook.

Not that it matters - Yoongi has the potential to be a good friend, but he’s not Jungkook.

You don’t know what to make of the thought, so you push it far, far back in your mind, until its whisper is easily ignorable.

“Shit,” Yoongi lets out a while later as he pulls his phone out of his pockets. “We’ve been in here for two hours.”

You widen your gaze, pulling your phone out as well. Your pulse skyrockets when you notice Jungkook tried to call you twice, leaving you a text that makes you hold in a small smile.

[11:46 pm] JK: where are you [11:46 pm] JK: :(

It’s almost thirty minutes later, but you immediately swipe your phone open to reply.

[12:12 am] You: just chilling with yoongi. wanna head home soon?

“I think I’ll go,” Yoongi says, and you look up from your phone to meet his gaze. “I’ve got lots of stuff to do tomorrow.”

You nod. “We should study together Sunday,” you reply as you both push up to your feet, stretching. “I have a lab report to finish.”

Yoongi agrees, and a second later you’re stepping out of the room. You earn a curious look from three girls sitting on the floor near the bathroom, and you offer them a tight-lipped smile as you pass them on your way to the stairs. 

The music is still loud when you get to the floor level, people dancing and indulging in alcohol and partying like only college kids know how to do. Part of you still wants to revel, to enjoy the night, but your break away from the party with Yoongi has tired you, and you want to head home.

And maybe part of you wants to head home because it means spending time with Jungkook, but you’d never admit it to anyone.

You hug Yoongi goodbye in the middle of the living room, and then you make your way to the kitchen, hoping to find Jungkook there. You don’t find him, but Ria, Seokjin, Namjoon and Nabi are there, and you inform them that Yoongi left.

“What were you guys doing?” Nabi asks, and you immediately know she’s inebriated by the slur in her speech. “Why were you trying to go to the bathroom?”

A slight blush covers Namjoon’s cheeks as you burst out laughing. “What were you guys doing in the bathroom, mmh?” you counter-back.

Ria bursts out laughing, and Seokjin holds in a laugh, his plump lips curving upwards at the corner as Nabi makes a sound you can’t quite interpret. It just makes you laugh, and she’s quick to follow with, “What about it?”

“Nothing,” you say, shrugging your shoulders innocently. “Just an image I’ll never be able to get out of my mind.”

“Gosh,” Namjoon lets out, and you all laugh again.

“Anyways, I was just cheering Yoongi up,” you say after that, and you’re aware it sounds a little suspicious when four pairs of eyes turn to look at you, eyebrows almost touching. “We talked, that’s it,” you add, raising your hands in defence. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“Hobi got pissed when he learned you guys were hiding somewhere together and he dipped,” Ria reveals. “I think you made him jealous.”

“Oof.” You worry at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “Shit, I’m too sober for this.”

For this being lying to your friends, because you know damn well that Hoseok might indeed be jealous of you, but for spending time with Yoongi. Not the other way around. Your friends don’t know though, so you let Ria tug you to the bar, where the amount of alcohol has drastically diminished since the last time you were here.

You end up throwing back shots with your friend, and she inevitably tugs you on the dancefloor next, and you sway to the beat along with her for a while, until you once more feel buzzed with alcohol.

That’s where Jeon Jungkook finds you, arm carelessly wrapping around your shoulder as he pulls you in, startling you.

“Shit,” you say in his face.

“You don’t answer your phone, mmh?” he lets out.

You think you smell cigarette smoke on his breath, but you’re too drunk from his proximity to really be able to tell. He makes your thoughts swim after all, far too much for you to think about anything other than the fact that he’s close enough you could kiss him, here in the middle of a crowded room.

Would people cheer for you guys, or would you earn snickers? You think it’d be the latter option, considering that he’s Taehyung’s friend, but you don’t care.

“Hey you,” you purr, and he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“Hey,” he replies.

You can’t help the soft smile that overtakes your features, and he immediately melts, echoing it. 

“Want to head home?” you ask him.

Someone loudly clears their throat, and you jump out of Jungkook’s arms, cheeks turning fully red. Ria is watching with a wide grin, and she wiggles her eyebrows when you meet her gaze.

“Fuck off,” you tell her, your whole face burning, and she just laughs at your expense as you walk away, Jungkook in tow.

You make it all the way to the room where you’ve left your coat, grabbing it as Jungkook looks around for his, and you’re outside before he meets you, a confused look on his features.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, his breath clouding in front of his face.

You watch as it lifts in the air slowly before vanishing in a gust of wind.

“What?” you let out. “No? Why would I be?”

“You ran out like I did something wrong,” he answers, motioning over his shoulder.

You melt. You melt like ice cream on a hot summer day, dripping to the floor with endearment for the man in front of you. 

“No, I ran because Ria always puts her nose in stuff she shouldn’t,” you say. You look around, fingers itching to reach for him, but people are smoking closer to the street, and you think you recognize some of his friends in the group.

“You were being obvious, peach,” Jungkook teases, and he winks at you, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat as he walks down the three steps from the porch to the lawn. 

You catch up to him quickly as he heads towards the group, wishing everyone good night. Lisa stares at you as you stand next to Jungkook, and your cheeks heat up once more under that watchful gaze.

Luckily enough for you, Jungkook says his goodbyes quickly, and you’re walking away under a minute later, heading to where he parked his car.

“How come you’re always driving to parties now?” you ask Jungkook. “You could afford an Uber.”

He glances at you, shrugging sheepishly. “Then I wouldn’t have a reason to drive you home.”

“Please,” you let out, rolling your eyes. “We could grab an Uber home together. That way you’d be able to drink.”

He looks behind you, making sure you’re not in sight from the frat house anymore, and then he pulls one of his hands out of his coat, grabbing yours. His hand is warm, large, and it engulfs your own hand easily as he tugs you closer.

“You might hate me for this,” Jungkook starts, “but I promised your brother I’d make sure you’re okay during parties this semester.”

This time, you roll your eyes so far back that you think they might get stuck. “He did not ask that of you.”

“He did,” Jungkook insists.

“That’s bullshit.” You sigh loudly, slightly shaking your head. “Even when he’s gone he’s still annoying.”

Jungkook laughs, the sound like a warm blanket wrapped around you. “But yeah, he just asked me to make sure you’re okay, and I got used to not drinking as much at parties.”

“On behalf of Taehyung, I’m sorry.”

He tugs you even closer, and you trip on a crack in the sidewalk. He catches you before you fall, hands finding your waist to steady you. “Careful,” he says. “And don’t apologize, I really don’t mind.” 

You pout, but you fall silent, just enjoying the feel of Jungkook’s hand in yours. You reach his car a few minutes later and, ever so the gentleman, Jungkook holds the door open for you.

You cock an eyebrow, looking back at him with a small smile on your lips as you’re about to get in. “You only opened the door for me ‘cause you want to look at my ass, didn’t you?” you tease.

He laughs, loud and clear, before pushing you in. “Shut up, peach.”

A smile tickles the corner of your lips, like it permanently seems to do when it comes to Jungkook, and then you sit in the car. He shuts the door before making his way to the driver’s side, and a second later, he’s sliding in, offering you a smirk that makes your cheeks burn.

“What?” you let out.

“So what if I just want to look at your ass?” he says, turning the key in the engine. The car purrs to life as Jungkook adds, “You’ve got a really nice ass, especially in those pants.”

You feel all warm and tingly inside, and you roll your eyes as you look away from him. It only makes him chuckle, and then he starts driving, heading towards the home you share. The first minute is spent in silence, the music on the radio low, and you only realize that Jungkook has something on his mind when you glance at him to see him pulling on his piercings with his teeth.

“What’s wrong?” you immediately ask.

“You were with that guy for a long time,” he answers, and his eyes dart to you before returning to the street.

“Yoongi?” you say, though you obviously know that he means Yoongi. “Yeah, he’s a friend.”

“A friend?” Jungkook echoes. 

You hum, nodding your head. “He’s actually fucking Hobi so…”

Jungkook’s gaze widens, and he glances at you. “Hobi? Isn’t that the guy you were fucking?”

“He was,” you say, and you laugh at his expression, dead in the middle of jealousy and surprise. It’s a funny look on his features, though the second you laugh, it melts away, replaced by tender endearment. “He actually started fucking Yoongi during the power outage, and we ended things there.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, but you see a muscle feathering under the skin of his jaw. He looks angry, and could he even be… jealous?

“Are you jealous?” you ask, unable to keep the amusement from your voice.

“I’m not,” Jungkook says, voice so stern you know for a fact that he definitely is jealous.

“You are!” you insist, and you burst out laughing. “Jeon Jungkook is jealous because I used to fuck someone else.”

“I’m not!” Jungkook repeats, louder this time. “I’m not fucking jealous.”

You smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief, and you pat his thigh. “Don’t worry. You’re the only one I want to fuck now.”

“Is that why you spent your evening locked up in a bedroom with some other guy?” he asks, and you hear the jealousy in his voice, clear as day this time. 

“Gosh, JK,” you say teasingly, and you turn towards him, fully facing him. “You’re so jealous.”

He pushes your hand away from where you’d left it on his thigh. “Fuck off.”

You widen your gaze, bursting out laughing a second later. And then, just to piss him off further, you lean closer to him, pressing a kiss on his cheek while your seatbelt tries to pull you back to your seat.

“You’re adorable.”

He makes a non-committal sound as you sit back in your seat, and you return your hand to his thigh, squeezing once. This time he lets you do it, parting his legs slightly so that his thigh is in easier reach for you.

You lean your head against the headrest, eyes searching his profile. He’s just toying with his piercings again, and he looks heavenly in the neon light of the streetlights, the orange glow painting him in a beautiful picture. You sigh, and he glances at you long enough for his eyes to meet yours.

You fall for him. You’ve already been falling for him, inevitably, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you right now that makes you fall irreversibly.

“I want you,” you say, voice breathy.

Jungkook’s car comes to a halt at a red light, and he looks at you again. “Right now?”

You nod, and your hand finds his thigh again. “Shouldn’t I prove to you that you’ve got nothing to worry about?”

“I’m driving, peach.”

You shrug. “Then better keep your eyes on the road.”

Your words turned him on. You’d expected it, yet when you move your hand up, fingers grazing his dick, your throat dries out.

He’s already getting hard.

“You think you can drive while I suck your dick?”

“Peach,” Jungkook says sternly. “We’re almost home.”

“Just keep driving,” you innocently reply, batting your eyelashes.

He rolls his eyes, yet he goes forward when the light turns green instead of turning left like he was supposed to. You bite your lower lip, desire flushing through you as warmth pools at your core.

“You act so tough, but you folded so easily,” you tease, feeling brattier than you’ve ever felt with him.

Maybe because you’re starting to realize the power that you have over Jeon Jungkook, and it’s getting to your head.

“Don’t make me regret, peach,” he warns, voice low and gravelly.

You wet your lips, tilting your head to the side. “Or what?”

“Or I’m driving you home and not fucking you tonight.”

His threat falls flat - the second the words are out of his mouth you caress his length through his pants, and he instinctively bucks his hips.

“Careful,” you let out. “Wouldn’t want to get in an accident.”

He just clenches his jaw as you start working on the button of his jeans. He shifts, allowing you easier access, though it’s still awkward from the sitting position and his seatbelt. Soon enough you manage to get the button undone, and then you unzip his pants.

“Think someone’s going to see us?” you ask as you slide your hand in his pants, gripping his dick over the fabric of his boxers once.

He sits heavily in your hand, already fully hard, and your mouth waters. 

Jeon Jungkook has a lot of power over you, too.

“Not if I can find an empty parking lot,” he says, voice breathy when you stroke him. “Under the boxers, please.”

“Jeon Jungkook, saying please?” you tease, cocking an eyebrow. “I’ll get used to this.”

“Don’t.” His eyes flutter shut for a few seconds when you manage to slide your hand into his boxers, and you let out a breathy sound at the feeling of his soft skin.

“Shit, Jungkook.”

“Mmh?”

“You’re already so hard.”

He chuckles. “You turn me on a lot, peach.”

You like to hear it, so much so that you free his dick from his pants, as much as you possibly can from the angle. 

“Clearly,” you say as you eye the bead of precum forming on his slit. You swipe your thumb on it, smearing it on his tip. 

Jungkook’s grip tightens on the wheel, but he remains silent this time around as he pulls the car into a parking lot. Though it’s not fully empty, he heads to a dark corner, where the lone streetlight died so that he can quickly park the car as you slowly jerk him.

“I thought you’d drive around while I sucked you,” you tease, unbuckling your seat belt. 

His eyes are dark, dangerous, as he casts them on you. “I want to be able to appreciate every second of you choking on my dick, peach.”

You smirk, and you bend down, swirling your tongue around him once. “Yeah?”

He grunts as you suck on his tip, and he reclines his seat, pushing his pants down just enough to fully free his dick. “Yeah.”

You suck once again. “Good boy.”

His large hands find your hair as you swirl your tongue around him, and he pulls it back in a ponytail so that he can watch you work on him, though you’re keen on teasing him more than anything right now.

You want to see how a frustrated Jungkook fucks.

“Just for you,” he replies as you lightly suck his tip once more.

You move to the side, peppering open mouthed kisses all along his shaft, and then some more on his thigh. You suck a hickey there, a dark, purple mark, and Jungkook curses under his breath. 

“Stop teasing,” he says through gritted teeth as you lick the mark.

“Or what?”

You look up to meet his gaze as your tongue toys with his slit. His precum is salty in your mouth, and the frustration building up in his gaze turns your insides to pure lava.

You’re burning for him. Truly burning - you’ve caught fire and you don’t think it can be extinguished.

“Why are you such a brat?” he asks, though he doesn’t sound inquisitive. He rather sounds whiny, like he wants you to stop but some part of him is thrilled.

Or maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s you and your desire for him that’s clouding your mind, like it usually always does.

You go back to his dick, licking your way up and teasing his slit at the top. You then close your mouth around him, give him a tentative suck that makes him buck his hips. You want to pull away, to be more of a brat, but his large hand shifts to the back of your head to hold you in place. You whine, but then he slowly fucks up into your mouth, and it turns into a moan, your eyes watering when he hits the back of your throat.

“See,” he lets out breathlessly. “I know you can take me.”

If you weren’t gone before, you truly are now, and you abandon yourself to the desire you feel for him. You take the lead, bobbing your head up and down as you jerk him off too, making sure every inch of his dick is pleasured. He’s a grunting mess over you, his hand still fisting some of your hair, though he’s thrown his head back and isn’t watching anymore.

You go down, hollowing your cheeks around him, and then slowly come up. You’ve been sloppy, and your spit is a natural lube on his dick as you stop at the tip, swirling your tongue around him.

“Peach,” he says, voice low.

You let go of his dick, meeting his gaze. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, his gaze dark with lust. 

“Mmh?” you let out.

“I really want you right now.”

You don’t need to be told more. You climb on top of him, careful not to press your ass on the honk of his car, and you kiss him rough, your teeth almost clashing as your mouths collide. Jungkook grunts against you, his hands immediately finding your hips, and you moan when he sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth.

“Do you have condoms?” you ask as he moves to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses down the column of your throat.

You lose your hands in his hair as he sucks on the spot where your neck connects with your shoulder. And then he pauses, lifting an apologetic look to you.

“What?” 

“We used the condom last week,” he reminds you.

In New York.

You groan, hiding your face in his neck. “Are you saying we have to drive all the way home now?”

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “Or you finish me off here?” he suggests.

You throw him a stern look that makes him laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. Your heart warms in your chest, chasing away the lust, and all you’re left with are the feelings that have been brewing in you for weeks, feelings you don’t dare name right now.

“Get back in your seat, I’ll drive us home.” 

You pout, and he pecks your lips once. You can’t help the soft smile that grows on your features, and you climb off from him, sitting back in the passenger seat.

A second later you’re pulling out in the street, Jungkook having put his pants back on, and he grabs your hand where it rests on your thigh as he drives. It’s intimate somehow, even more so intimate than you sucking his dick a second ago, and you spend the drive admiring him, wondering how it is that you got so lucky when it comes to him.

He opens the door for you once he’s parked the car near your apartment, and he shuts it behind you before grabbing your hand again, pulling you behind him as you walk home. He unlocks the front door, and then you’re in, engulfed by the gentle warmth of your apartment.

There’s a beat of silence as you exchange a look, the air filling with electricity. With the knowledge of what’s about to happen - your blood heats up in your veins, bringing back the arousal that had clouded the car just a few minutes ago.

“You know,” Jungkook lets out, and he takes a step closer to you, towering over you. “It was my first time getting sucked in my car.”

For some reason it surprises you. You didn’t think Jungkook had many firsts left, yet in a week you’ve done two of them with him.

“It was?”

He nods, and he grabs your jaw to tilt your head back, his grip gentle yet firm. “And you were so good to me, mmh?” You reckon you were a brat, and maybe you should remind him, but when he adds, “Should I be good to you now?”, you only nod. He laughs, saying, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It’s all you have time to say before he’s crashing his lips on yours, and he swallows the breathy sound you instinctively let out. His hand falls to your waist, pulling you in, while yours do quick work of pushing his coat off his shoulders. He helps you by taking it off, and you both don’t care to put it in the closet, not when his tongue is in your mouth and he’s turning into the oxygen in your lungs. 

Taking off your shoes prove to be awkward, as you’re both reluctant to disconnect from the kiss, but it’s oh so worth it once you manage to free your feet from the shoes, and then Jungkook picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pushes you against the door.

You wrap your arms around his neck, sucking on his tongue when he pushes it in your mouth again, and he grunts, grinding into you.

“You make me insane,” he says against your mouth, and then he pulls away to suck another mark on your neck. 

You pull at his hair, and he retaliates by grinding his hips into yours again. “I really want you, Kook,” you say, the nickname slipping from your mouth.

Jungkook pulls back, just enough so that his gaze can meet yours. “What did you just call me?”

Though your heart is beating so loud you can barely hear your thoughts, you manage to recall, repeating, “Kook?”

“Say it again.” 

The intensity in his gaze is not one you can shield from, and you find yourself lacking any defiance. “Kook,” you repeat, softer this time.

“Shit, please always call me that.”

When his soft lips find yours again, you sigh, and he pulls away from the door to carry you to his room, his mouth barely disconnecting just long enough for him to focus on opening the door. He walks in, not bothering to kick the door shut, and he puts you down on his bed, his lips disconnecting just long enough for him to take off his shirt before he’s climbing over top of you, his mouth seeking yours.

You run your hands along his warm skin, appreciating the muscles in his back as he shifts, nails lightly grazing him. He grinds into you in retaliation, and you moan in his mouth, a sound he swallows like a starved man.

Jungkook kneels between your legs, and despite the fact that he didn’t turn the lights on, you still take a moment to admire him in the dim light filtering in from the windows. His big, doe eyes are narrowed softly, like he’s holding in a smile, and he gently runs a hand up your arm before pulling you to a sitting position.

He takes off your coat, eyes never leaving yours - like he’s lost in your gaze the same way that you’re lost in his - and then he takes care of your shirt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He plays with his piercings as he takes in the sight of your breasts, nipples perked.

“Not wearing a bra?” he teases, and he pinches one of your nipples.

You moan softly, and he pushes you back down so that he can bend and wrap his lips around your other nipple, tongue teasing at the sensitive bud.

“Is there something wrong with that?” you ask once he’s lifted your head from your breast.

“No. Just made me realize that I should have fucked you at the party.”

You bite your lower lip. “You should have.”

“Then everyone would know how good I make you feel, mmh?” he says, and then he starts going down your body, pressing kisses along the column of your neck, and then on your collarbone. Your breasts come next, and he takes his time worshipping them while you tug at his hair, just enough for him to grunt against you.

When he gets tired of your breasts, Jungkook moves lower, pressing gentle kisses on your abdomen, up until he reaches the band of your pants. He looks up then, meeting your gaze seeking consent, and you offer it to him with a nod of your head.

It doesn’t take him more to go lower, and he kisses your clit over your pants. You let out a breathy sound, and he kneels so that he can take off your pants, pulling your panties down at the same time. 

You’re dripping wet. You’ve been dripping wet since you sucked him in his car, and Jungkook watches your juices glistening as he pulls on his lip piercings. “Shit, peach. You’re fucking soaked.”

“I know,” you let out.

“So, so good to me,” he whispers to himself, and then he dives in, licking up from your entrance to your clit, where he swirls his tongue against the sensitive bud.

You become a moaning and writhing mess as he eats you out, as his tongue presses expert circles around your clit. He starts fingering you at the same time, scissoring motions fighting against your walls as they instinctively tighten around him, yet Jungkook doesn’t falter.

He never does. He never falters, is always good to you. It’s no wonder you start riding the wave towards an orgasm in no time, the pressure on your clit just enough to keep you on edge without pushing you over. You try to grind into his mouth, but he pushes you back down, one large hand on your stomach.

“Just let me please you, mmh?” he says against you.

“Jungkook…”

And then he truly goes in, his tongue flat against your clit as he moves his head from side to side, his fingers curling perfectly inside of you. The orgasm hits like a train, and your vision turns white as your walls pulse around his digits. 

Jungkook milks the orgasm out of you, making sure you’re truly spent before sitting back on his heels. You look at him through blissed, half-lidded eyes, and he palms himself over his pants, getting up to take off the rest of his clothes a few seconds later. He stands there for a time, his dick rock hard, and then he walks over to his night table to grab a condom. 

A moment later he’s back between your legs, rubbing his dick up and down your folds to collect your juice. 

“Ready?” he asks.

You’re still high from the orgasm, so you just nod your head once, eyes fluttering shut as he pushes inside of you and you let out a broken moan. He grips your waist, fingers ever so slightly pushing into the supple skin as he seats all of himself inside of you, and then he gives one thrust, pushing back out and then in in a swift motion.

“Peach,” he grunts, and his thumbs shift on your skin, like he’s caressing your sides.

“Mmh?” you let out.

He doesn’t move for a time, and your eyes slide open to meet his gaze. The intensity behind his pupils nearly undoes you, making you reach towards him until he lets go of your waist to grab your hand instead. He leans forward, holding your hand over your head, and then he steals a quick kiss on your lips.

“Let me know if I hurt you?” he says against your mouth.

You kiss him again for good measures, and then whisper, “Don’t worry, I can take it.”

“Fuck,” he curses, and then he starts fucking you, slowly yet deep, his dick infinitely hard inside of you.

He keeps at it for a time, his forehead resting against yours as he fucks you passionately, taking in the breathy sounds you make. Your free hand finds his waist, as if you can urge him to go faster, yet he resists, just keeping that same slow and steady beat. 

He lifts his head, pecks your forehead and then says, “Ready?”

“Yeah,” is all you have time to say before everything changes and he starts pounding into you unforgivingly. 

You hold on to his shoulders, nails digging in his skin as his head hangs low. He grunts directly in your ear as he fucks you, the sounds he makes almost pornographic. It’s hot, deadly so, but then again you think everything he does is hot.

You’re a goner for him. For your brother’s best friend, for someone you can’t truly have. It sobers you, and Jungkook seems to notice the shift in your attitude because he stills inside of you, raising his head to meet your gaze.

“Are you okay?” he gently asks. 

His big, doe eyes are filled with concern for you, with so much emotion you think you might drown. You cup his cheek, taking it all in.

Maybe you truly can give it a chance.

“I think I’m falling for you,” you breathe.

He doesn’t move for a while, doesn’t even blink, but then he grins. He grins, and you think you’ve never seen something as beautiful as him.

“Then that makes two of us,” he whispers, and then he’s kissing you languidly, his hips resuming their motions, though they’re slower this time, closer to what it was like at the beginning. 

You love it all the same, holding him as close to you as you can, kissing him back with every little treacherous emotion you don’t want to name.

He really is too good to be true.

“I’m going to come,” he whispers against your mouth, and he sounds slightly surprised.

Like he didn’t think he could come from gentler, softer sex like what you’re partaking in right now. Yet you react accordingly, pulling on his hair just enough to sting.

“Yeah?” you let out.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

“Fucking come for me, Kook.”

The nickname unleashes him, and he pounds into you, chasing his high as you rake your nails on his back. A few deep thrusts later he’s coming, slamming to the hilt as his dick twitches inside of you, and he kisses you again, grunts and groans in your mouth as you take it all in, your walls pulsing around him like you’re coming too.

It takes you both a while to come down from the high, and Jungkook doesn’t move, stays there with his forehead resting against yours as you breathe in the same air. Your hands run up and down his back in soothing motions despite the thin sheen of sweat covering him, and he occasionally presses soft pecks on your lips that you immediately reciprocate.

Eventually the moment passes, and Jungkook slips out of you to lie down next to you instead, though he stays close, nuzzling his face in your neck as he rests his hand on your stomach. You feel safe, warm, and you wish the world could stop right now. You wish you could stay here, forever.

And tonight you reckon you’re foolish enough to believe you might.

Prev | Chapter 9.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

these two are so obsessed with each other, help :') hope you guys liked this chapter! Let me know what you think!!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[cherryrikis]

ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 002 ! inconveniently convenient

PAIRING idols riki x fem reader

SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.

authors note im trying to update as often as i can bc i start school in 2 days😭

previous <> masterlist <> next

with the manager’s permission, you and minji left the dorm to walk together to the local convenience store.

“look, they have an enhypen lucky draw event here.” she pointed out as you both walked past it by the entrance.

“can we get one on the way out?” your eyes lit up at the mention of it, while you followed minji down the produce aisle. “sure, why not.”

the two of you picked out a few snacks and some drinks for the dorm until you began making your way to the cash register to check out. “would you like to buy a bag today for 500 won?” the clerk asked with a cheerful tone. “yes please.”

“your total is 35,500 won. also- i don’t mean to intrude. but i am a big fan. you guys did so good performing at music bank today!” she encouraged.

“aw, thank you so much!” minji smiled with a wave, paying for the groceries before following you to the lucky draw machine.

you each pressed the button once, flipping the photocards over so you couldn’t see who you got. on the count of three, you both turned it over, revealing your pulls. you had gotten sunghoon, and minji had pulled riki.

“oh, it’s your boyfriend. here, keep it.” she teased with a smirk. but as soon as minji slightly looked at the person behind you, her face fell.

“wow. he’s pretty handsome.” a voice from behind you called out.

you were mortified. as soon as you turned around, you were met with none other than-

“-riki! poor yn. you’re scaring her!” jungwon frowned, lightly slapping riki’s arm with the back of his hand. “sorry about that.” he apologized on the younger boy’s behalf.

“no worries. i’m sorry. you really caught me off guard.” you smiled.

“suddenly i feel underdressed.” minji joked as she gestured to jungwon, who still hadn’t changed out the stage outfit he wore on music bank.

“oh, not at all. if anything, i’m overdressed.” he waved. “normally i’d change as soon as we get home, but practice ran late. and this one here was hogging the shower as soon as he was first inside the dorm.” jungwon nudged riki’s stomach.

while they became immersed in their own conversations, riki moved closer to you, wanting to engage with you as well.

“hey, good job today at mubank. nice to know you find me.. charming.” he winked.

“gosh. if i hear someone say music bank one more time, i might just die. it was awful.” you groaned.

“i thought it was pretty cute.” he shrugged.

“what are you guys doing here anyway?” you asked, changing the topic. “it’s pretty late.”

“oh. jungwon got the penalty to buy everyone food, since he was last to the dorms. but i came because he never knows where to find the japanese snacks. good thing i didn’t stay home though.” riki gestured to you who currently held his photocard in your card.

“sorry about today. i was really nervous..” you looked down, scratching the back of your neck.

he tilted his head in confusion, before using his hand to tilt your chin up. “yeah, no kidding. you were practically shaking the whole interview.” riki pouted.

you groaned as you suddenly felt shy yet again, beginning to bring your hand up to cover your face once more. only riki had held your wrist, bringing your arm down.

“stop avoiding me. it’s okay. we’re all like that at first.” he comforted.

and suddenly, you felt better.

“hey, we’re gonna go now.” jungwon informed. “let’s walk back together? i mean, we live in the same building anyway.”

surely, you were bound to be recognized. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. you laughed freely as riki joked with you, walking shoulder to shoulder together as minji and jungwon were a bit more ahead.

“you know, i was pretty nervous too. at the interview. to think that i got to be next to you, let alone have the yoon yn stare at me whenever i spoke? dream come true.” he clutched his chest, faking a fainting motion.

“you’re just saying that to make me feel better.” you rolled your eyes playfully.

“no, really. i’m dead serious. why do you think i kept making eye contact with you?”

and suddenly the world stopped spinning once more. you smiled as you felt riki’s arm wrap around your upper half, securing you as you walked towards the entrance of the building together.

you screamed into the pillow yet again, but this time, not out of embarrassment or fear.

“what’s going on?” hanni asked, coming out the bathroom with a sheet mask on.

she took a seat next to you and hyein on her bed, while minji, danielle, and haerin stayed on danielle’s bed.

“when we went to the store, we ran into jungwon and riki. they were talking to each other the entire time. jungwon and i saw them literally making heart eyes.” minji’s lips curled into a smirk, as she took a spoonful from her pudding cup.

“no kidding.. check this out!” hyein called out, gesturing for everyone to gather around her as she held out her phone.

TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @itzningning @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae

[earthchica]

Everything I Ever Wanted

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: It's been a month since you and Terry welcomed your son, Elijah; both of you have been adapting to parenthood pretty amazingly. However, five months in, tensions arise as you feel overwhelmed by handling most household responsibilities and caring for your son. This imbalance leads to a big argument between you and Terry.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), oral (m), loving making, birthday sex, rough sex, praise kink, choking kink, fluff, domestic life, time skip, angst, mention of postpartum depression, slight communications issues, foul language, argument, nicknames [ baby, sweetheart, mama, pretty girl & more ] words: 7k

note: I don't know...I really love writing these two, so we're continuing their story. please enjoy and there may be some errors.

sequel to { funny how time flies } mini-series masterlist next chapter { make it right }

-

It's been a few weeks since you two brought your precious son, Elijah, home, and the transition has been exciting and challenging, but you and Terry have worked seamlessly as a team, diligently tackling every sleepless night and diaper change.

Besides that, Elijah is an easy baby, though he tends to wake up frequently during the night, yet somehow manages to sleep through much of the morning and into the afternoon. This odd schedule has led you and Terry to refine it soon.

Today had unfolded beautifully, with the late afternoon sun streaming through the living room windows, bathing the space in a soft, golden light. The warmth of the sun felt comforting, creating an inviting atmosphere.

Your parents had come over for a visit, eager to spend time with Elijah again. Laughter and joyful chatter filled the air as they engaged with him, delighting in his coos and how his eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Look at you, Eli, such a cutie pie! Yes, you are!” Your mom coos lovingly at her grandson, her voice filled with warmth. Beside her, your dad beams with pride, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"I can't help but agree with you, honey. He's absolutely precious," your dad remarked with a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with affection. You glanced over at Terry, and in that moment, you exchanged knowing smiles, both delighting.

“You both did such a wonderful job! You made such a beautiful, healthy baby boy, our first grandson," your mom adds, her eyes shimmering with tears of happiness.

“Oh, don’t cry, Mama,” you said gently, moving to rub her shoulder reassuringly. She wipes away a tear and nods, her smile returning, a reflection of the love that fills the room.

“I just can’t believe how fast time flies,” she continues, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “One minute I was holding you as a baby, and now I’m here holding your little one. It feels surreal.”

Terry smiles, wrapping an arm around you. “We’re just so thankful he’s here, and we couldn’t have done it without both of you. Your support means the world to us.”

Your mom beams and then adds, “You know if you two ever need a break or some extra hands, your dad and I are here for you. We can help with babysitting, cooking—whatever you might need! I’d love to take care of my grandson.”

You look at Terry and see the relief in his eyes. “That’s really generous of you, Mama. We would appreciate that a lot. It’s been overwhelming, but we’re figuring it out.”

“Of course! Don’t hesitate to ask, honey,” Your mom says, her enthusiasm unwavering. “I know how challenging those first few months can be. I remember when we had you; the sleepless nights were brutal. But it was all worth it, seeing you grow.”

“We’d love to have you two over whenever you can; the door is always open,” Terry said with a light smile. “We could use a little break now and then,” He added.

"Yeah, you don't forget to find a good balance. Make sure to carve out some quality time together, maybe plan regular date nights every so often to keep that connection strong between you two," your dad suggested, offering his wisdom.

Terry turned to you, a contemplative expression on his face. “That’s true,” he acknowledged. “Yeah, but I'm still a bit scared about leaving him. We’re also just figuring this all out as we go along.” You sighed, the weight of uncertainty settling on your shoulders.

Your mom, ever the pillar of support, gently patted your hand, her touch warm and reassuring. “That’s completely natural, honey! You’re navigating a lot right now but doing wonderfully already. Trust your instincts and know your limits; always listen to what feels right for you.”

Her eyes sparkled with comfort and encouragement. “Remember, we’re just a phone call away if you need us. We want to be involved and support you as best as possible.”

“Thanks, Mama. That really means a lot to me,” you replied, feeling gratitude and comfort wash over you. At that moment, wrapped in this bubble of love and support from your family, you couldn’t help but feel reassured

After their visit, you and Terry finally settled down for dinner. You had already fed Elijah before the family arrived, and while he dozed peacefully in his tiny bassinet by you, both of you enjoyed a quiet meal.

You cut into your chicken, glancing over at Terry, who adores Elijah sleeping. “yo, I still can’t believe how well Eli took to his new sleep routine,” Terry said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Like...remember those first few nights? We were both so damn exhausted!” He added, making a silly expression.

You chuckled. “Yeah, it felt like we had entered a marathon. But now, we’re finally getting the hang of it. It’s great seeing him so peaceful.” You nodded toward the bassinet, where Elijah stirred slightly but remained asleep.

Terry smiled. “He really is an easy baby. I heard some parents struggle for months. We really lucked out.” He paused, and his expression turned serious.

"I was talking to my mom earlier, and she mentioned how she felt depressed after I was born; she didn't think she would get out of it if it wasn't for my dad and proper therapy. It made me wonder if you are feeling like too?” He asked, looking at me curious.

You set down your fork, the question hanging in the air, and you took a deep breath, feeling guilt wash over you. You hadn't intended to hide your feelings from Terry, but the whirlwind of emotions that came with new parenthood had left you feeling unmoored.

“I… I did feel a bit overwhelmed in those first few weeks,” you admitted, avoiding his gaze momentarily. “There were nights when I hid in the bathroom downstairs, just couldn’t stop crying, you know? It was like all the stress and exhaustion piled on top of the joy of having our baby.”

Terry’s brow furrowed with concern, but he nodded. “I wish you would’ve told me, baby. I wouldn’t have been upset; I just want to be here for you, especially now that we’re married and we have a family. We’re a team.”

The warmth in his voice made your heart swell. “I know, Terry. I didn’t want to add to your worries, especially with everything else happening. I thought I could manage it alone, and it felt… silly to feel that way when we have this beautiful son.”

Terry reached across the table, taking your hand gently. “It’s not silly at all, baby. It’s a huge transition; you don’t have to pretend everything’s always okay. I’m your husband, and I want us to share the good moments and the tough ones, too.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a bit of the weight lift. “You’re right. I should be more open; I'm still learning that, but I’m relieved to say I’m not feeling that way anymore. It’s getting easier every day. I think I was shocked at first and scared… but I want you to know that I’m okay now.”

“Good,” Terry said, his expression softening. “But please promise me that you'll talk to me if you start feeling like that again or any kind of way. We gotta be completely honest with each other. We can face anything as long as we’re open about it.”

You nodded, appreciating the sincerity in his eyes. “I promise. It’s just… this new journey we’re in, it’s like it’s made up of all these conflicting emotions. I love being a wife and mother, but it’s also a lot of pressure.”

Terry smiled gently. “It is. And we’re figuring it out together. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. If you ever need to vent or cry or just take a break, I’m here, baby, and I love you. We’ll make it through all of it, hand in hand.”

Feeling reassured, "I love you, too, Terry, so much." A soft smile crossed your face, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the depth of your strong connection.

Once dinner concluded, and after indulging in a few light-hearted movies, you noticed that Elijah was still curled up, sound asleep. Deciding it was time for him to be tucked in, Terry gently picked him up to carry him to the nursery.

The soft coos and gentle sounds from the baby monitor filled the air, and a warmth spread through your heart as you listened to Terry's soothing voice.

“Goodnight, little man; Daddy loves you so much,” Terry whispered tenderly, gently kissing Elijah's forehead before quietly retreating from the nursery, leaving the door slightly ajar.

With a soft smile still lingering on your face, you walked to the bathroom to complete your nightly routine. You brushed your teeth, washed your face, and carefully wrapped your hair in a bonnet, feeling the day's exhaustion wash over you.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you found Terry already settled in bed, waiting for you. You crawled under the covers and snuggled into his chest, feeling safe and content as he leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into comforting darkness.

As the gentle glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm light in the room, Terry leans closer, brushing a soft kiss against your cheek. With a tender whisper, he softly says, "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you,"

His voice is warm and soothing, wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. You turn to him, a smile spreading across your face, and reply, "Goodnight, baby. I love you too!"

-

three months later.

As the soft light of dawn began to spill into the room, you stirred awake, feeling the cool sheets beside you and realizing Terry was already up.

The familiar hum of bike tires on pavement whispered through the open window, reminding you of his early morning routine. A smile crept across your face as you realized today felt extra special

— it was Terry's birthday.

You stretched and yawned, the warmth of anticipation bubbling up within you. With a silent promise to keep the surprises under wraps, you slipped out of bed and quietly padded downstairs to the living room.

The air was fresh and crisp, and you began carefully arranging the decorations you had picked out over the past few days. Balloons of black and green adorned the walls, while a “Happy Birthday Terry” banner hung cheerfully above the couch.

Nearby, you carefully placed the birthday gifts, ensuring each was perfectly wrapped and waiting for his eager eyes. Once the decorations were set, you decided to get Elijah from his crib.

You breathed before going upstairs and down the hallway, your heart swelling with excitement. Opening the nursery door gently, you peeked in to find him peacefully sleeping, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.

You couldn’t resist leaning over to press a soft kiss on his forehead, eliciting a small sigh from him as he stirred. “Good morning, my beautiful boy,” you whispered gently.

You lifted him from his crib. Elijah blinked sleepily at you, his eyes wide and bright, sparkling with joy at the sight of you. “Look who’s awake!” you said with a cheer, cradling him against your chest as he stretched his little arms and let out a delighted coo.

“Did you know it’s Daddy’s birthday today?” you beamed at him, your heart melting at his baby gurgles. “We have some fun surprises planned, little man!”

Elijah’s face broke into an adorable smile, his eyes dancing with delight as you continued talking to him, explaining everything you had planned for his father's special day.

As you carried him back into the living room, he kicked his legs, clearly excited about the decorations, reaching out to touch the balloons as they floated gently on the ceiling.

Once settled on the couch, you nestled Elijah against you, pointing out the colors. “Look, Eli! Black and green!” He babbled back as if he understood and wanted to join the conversation, his eyes reflecting pure happiness.

The sound of the front door opening caught your attention, and you glanced up to see Terry walk in. His body was slightly shaking from the morning cold, and a bright smile lit up his face as he quickly glanced at you.

“Hey there, Birthday King!” you cheered, lifting Elijah slightly to catch his father’s attention. His eyes widened in disbelief as he absorbed the decorations fluttering in the morning light.

Terry’s eyes traveled from you to Elijah, and his smile widened even more.

“Yo, you did all this for me?” Terry exclaimed, a laugh escaping him as surprise painted his features. "Yeah, of course, happy birthday, baby. I wanted to make today special for you. You deserve it all and more.

“Also, someone who wants to say ‘Happy Birthday’!” You leaned down, holding Elijah out toward him, and the sight of Terry's boyish grin melting into a look of pure love made your heart swell.

“Happy Birthday, Daddy! I love you so much!” you said in a baby voice. Terry laughed and gently took Elijah in his arms, peppering him with kisses as the baby squealed in response, his tiny hands reaching for his father’s face.

“This is amazing! Thank you, sweetheart!” He said, leaning down to give you a soft kiss, the warmth of his lips lingering just a moment longer, filling you with warmth.

“Glad you like it,” you replied shyly, “I wanted to surprise you right after your bicycle ride.”

“Nah, I love it, and I appreciate it; I appreciate you,” Terry chuckled, looking back at the decorations with pure gratitude. You felt a surge of happiness that today was all about him.

“Haha, good...Now Terry, let’s have breakfast!” you started with a giggle. “How does breakfast burrito sound?” You asked, guiding him to the kitchen and putting Elijah in his cute little high chair.

“Mmm...breakfast burrito sounds good!” Terry replied enthusiastically. “if I'm being honest, I could eat a mountain of them right now.”

“I’ll whip them up, and you can handle Elijah’s breakfast,” you suggested, glancing down at him. Elijah watched, his big hazel eyes touching the joyful atmosphere, cooing softly.

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart!” Terry said, turning towards the bottle warmer and preparing Elijah’s bottle. He expertly filled it, the familiar routine filling the air with comfort.

“You know, I’m grateful,” he said, glancing back at you with a soft sparkle in his eyes. “Not just because of my wonderful birthday surprise, but because I wake up every day to my beautiful family.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a fluttering warmth spreading as you started making the ingredients for the breakfast burritos. “Well, we’re grateful to have you, too,” you replied, smiling at him.

“You’re the best dad and husband anyone could ask for, T,” You said, reaching over to kiss his cheek, and he shyly smiled. “I do my best,” he said with a light chuckle, holding the bottle to Elijah’s mouth.

The baby eagerly latched on, and as you watched the two of them, your heart felt full. With the smell of bacon and eggs beginning to waft through the kitchen.

You flipped the first burritos, the golden brown surface looking just right. Elijah finished his bottle, and Terry gently patted his back. A small burp echoed, causing both you and Terry to laugh.

“That's my little man,” Terry said, kissing Elijah’s forehead again. The burritos were done with excitement and love. Terry placed a smiling Elijah back in his high chair, positioning the bib around him.

"Was it good, Eli?” you asked, smoothing his curly hair as the three of you gathered around the table. Terry grabbed burritos and turned back to you.

“Thank you for this. This morning is already one of my favorites.” He said, and you smiled, your heart swelling once more. “You're welcome, baby.”

"Was it good, Eli?" you asked, smoothing his curly hair as the three of you gathered around the table. Terry grabbed burritos and turned back to you.

"Thank you for this. This morning is already one of my favorites, " he said, and you smiled, your heart swelling again. "You're welcome, baby."

After breakfast, Terry cleared the table, and you picked up Elijah since he wanted to be held by you. Once he finished the dishes, you three moved into the living room.

"So what do you want to do for your birthday, today?" You asked softly, and he turned to you with a light smile on his face as he gave it a thought.

“You know, I was hoping we could sneak away for a bit—maybe see that movie we’ve been discussing? Just the two of us.” Terry answered with a nod.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but also a bit hesitant. “But what about Elijah? He’s still so little…” You said with a sigh, and Terry still smiled warmly, leaning in closer.

“That’s why I thought we could call your parents and see if they could take him for a few hours. I know they love spending time with him, and it would give us some much-needed alone time.”

You considered it momentarily, biting your lip as you glanced at Elijah, who was now giggling at the little plush toys hanging from his play gym

“You know what? Let's do it, shit, it's your birthday. They'll actually be thrilled to have a little time with him,” you said with a nod, trying to shake off any lingering doubts.

“Let's go!!!! I’ll call them right now,” Terry said, his excitement contagious. You watched as he grabbed his phone, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Terry stepped a bit away to talk, leaving you to play with Elijah, who was happy cooing and made it hard not to smile. A few minutes later, Terry returned, his expression lit up.

“They’re on their way! Said they can’t wait to see him,” he said, and the both of you chuckled at how eager your parents were to dote on their grandson.

-

When your parents arrived, they walked in with greetings of warm hugs and kisses on the cheek and happy birthdays to Terry, instantly melting your heart as they fussed over Elijah.

“Look at our big boy!” your mom said, tickling him lightly, which sent him into fits of giggles. You grab all the stuff that you think they would need.

Before they left, they turned to you, sensing a little of your worry. “You know we’ve got this,” your dad said reassuringly, giving you a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

“Don’t stress. You two deserve some time together; enjoy your birthday, Terry. Elijah will be just fine with us.” He added more, and your mom chimed in as well.

“And we promise to take lots of pictures! You’ll see; everything is going to be just great,” She said with a smile, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you.

“Thank you, Mama and Dad. It means a lot to us that you’re willing to take him,” you said, your voice sincere as Terry stood beside you, wrapping an arm around your plump waist.

After they left, you and Terry got ready and were on your way out for his birthday. The car ride to the movie theater felt like a burst of fresh air, filled with light-hearted banter between you and Terry.

“What do you think? You think this movie is gonna be any good?” Terry asked, pulled smoothly into the parking lot. You could hardly contain your enthusiasm.

“Definitely! I’ve heard some really good things about it,” you replied, a joyful flutter in your chest. You and Terry got out of the car and eagerly made your way toward the grand entrance of the theater.

The excitement in the air was palpable as you purchased two tickets, Next, you approached the concession stand, the mouthwatering aroma of freshly popped popcorn enveloping you two.

You and Terry grabbed a large bag of fluffy popcorn, skittles, M&M's, and two icy drinks, each clinking lightly as you and Terry juggled them toward the screening room.

As you stepped into the dimly lit theater, the soft glow of the screen illuminated the space, and you could hear the low hum of chatter mixed with the sound of previews playing in the background.

You chose a comfortable seat, sinking into the plush cushioning beside him. You couldn't help but feel giddy with anticipation for the movie to start.

The movie was a hilarious romantic comedy. During the funny moments, you found yourselves laughing, giggling, and playful nudges, Terry; you enjoyed this time you both had togather.

“That was so good!” Terry exclaimed, turning to you with a sparkling grin, and you nodded. You nodded in agreement, still buzzing from the excitement of the film.

As you stepped out of the theater into the cool evening air, you pulled out your phone and noticed several messages from your mom, each accompanied by adorable pictures of Elijah.

Eagerly, you swiped through the images, each capturing the little moments of his day—his cherubic smile, tiny fingers curled around a toy, and that sweet, peaceful expression he wore while napping.

You turned the screen towards Terry, who leaned in to get a better look. he smiled and gazed at the photos. “See, there’s nothing to worry about!” he said, a look of relief washing over him.

“Yeah!....So where to next, my king?” you asked, flashing a playful smile that lit up your face. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow around you, and the excitement in the air was palpable.

“How about Dave & Buster's?” Terry suggested, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. His eyes sparkled, making you wonder if he could no longer contain his excitement.

“I can’t wait to beat your high score in air hockey,” he declared confidently, a mischievous glint in his eye. You gasped in mock disbelief, tilting your head as if contemplating his challenge seriously.

“Oh, nah, baby! Good luck with that, haha! You do realize I’m the reigning champion, right?” you teased, laughter bubbling up as you struck a pose, pretending to bask in your glory.

“We’ll see about that,” Terry replied, a smirk playing on his lips, his competitive spirit ignited. It was clear that the rivalry was only beginning, and you couldn’t wait to see how it unfolded.

-

Once at Dave & Buster's, the atmosphere buzzed with energy. The two of you dived into the arcade, trying your hands at different games. The sound of laughter and the clinking of tokens filled the air as you challenged each other to various contests.

You spent more time than you’d like to admit racing against each other in virtual go-karts and trying to win substantial stuffed animals from claw machines.

You even shared a few sweet moments, like when Terry won a miniature robot and presented it to you with an exaggerated bow.

“For my beautiful queen, from the finest arcade in town,” he declared dramatically, and you giggled, kissing his cheek.

As a final showdown, you headed to the air hockey table. The chatter around faded as you focused on each hit, your competitiveness fueling both your laughter and playful banter.

“Prepare to be dethroned!” Terry joked, his eyes gleaming with determination, but you managed to outscore him again. As the game ended, you jumped up victoriously, doing a little dance.

“Once again, I’m the queen of air hockey!” you teased, doing the running man dance, and he playfully pretended to sulk. “Alright, alright, you win this time,” he laughed, pulling you into an embrace.

“But next time, I’m definitely coming for that crown!” Terry said, wrapping his arms around your shoulder.

After enjoying some food and a few more games, you both left with big smiles and full hearts, reminiscing about all the fun you had that day.

The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in beautiful hues of pink and orange as you made your way back home, still buzzing with joy.

When you arrived home, you gently opened the door, revealing your cozy living room. “You know, I think this might have been the best birthday I’ve ever had,” Terry said, wrapping an arm around your plump waist as you walked inside.

“Wait, there’s one more surprise,” you said, biting your lip to hide your excitement. You glanced at him and motioned towards the bedroom.

“I love surprises!” Terry said, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Why don’t you wait on the bed? I'll be in the bathroom?” You said both of you walked into your shared bedroom.

Terry sat on the bed and grinned widely, and you slipped into the bathroom to change into something special. You retrieved the white lace lingerie you had tucked away.

You had bought it a year ago, never expecting you’d wear it until today. As you put it on, the fabric felt soft against your dark-brown skin.

You smiled at your reflection, feeling a mix of horny and excitement. After a moment, you took a deep breath and left the bathroom. The dim light casting a gentle glow revealed yourself to Terry.

The look on his face was priceless—his jaw dropped slightly, and his eyes widened in pure delight. “Fuck,” he breathed, and he had a smirk spreading.

“You look absolutely sexy, baby. Is this all for me?” You felt a rush of warmth at his words, stepping forward to close the distance between you.

“Yes! Happy Birthday, King,” you said softly, bursting with love. “I think I’ve just found the best part of my birthday,” he murmured, his arm wrapping around your waist as he leaned in for a kiss, tongue dancing togather as his hand gripped your round of ass.

You moaned, pulled away from the kiss, and gave Terry a sly grin, pushing him back onto the bed. Feeling excited, you walk over to your phone and put some seductive Bluetooth music on.

You swayed your hips to the beat, making your way over to him and straddling his lap. Terry let out a low groan as you ran your hands down his chest, teasingly tracing the outline of his muscles.

You leaned close to his ear, your breath hot against his skin as you whispered, "Enjoying your birthday so far, big daddy?" before gently biting his earlobe.

���More than I could have ever imagined, baby,” Terry groaned, grasping your breasts. You continued to move sensually against him, feeling yourself getting more turned on by his reactions.

You couldn't help but smile at how much he was enjoying this. Slowly, you began to grind against him, feeling the heat between your bodies grow with each movement.

Terry's hands found their way down to your hips, guiding your movements as he let out a string of curses under his breath. ”Fuck, baby girl, I need you,”

You feel the bulge in his pants growing harder by the second and decide it is time for a change of pace and stand up, swaying your hips seductively as you slowly strip off the lingerie piece by piece.

Terry's eyes roamed hungrily over your plump, curvy body, desire evident in every line of his face. When you were entirely naked, you climbed back onto his lap, feeling the electricity between you both intensify with each touch.

“How do you want me, Terry? You know I love pleasing you; it is my favorite thing.” You said softly, and a primal growl escaped Terry's lips as he fixated his dark, lust-filled eyes on you.

His body trembles with desire at your question, and he pushes you down to your knees in front of him. "I need that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around me, baby," he demands, his hands caressing himself through his pants.

You bite your lip, feeling the wetness between your legs intensify as you quickly unbutton his pants and pull them down along with his boxers.

With a sly smile, you leaned forward and took his throbbing dick in your hands, and began stroking him, lathering him up by licking your hand.

You took him in your mouth, feeling his hand thread through your curly hair as he let out a deep moan. You moved your head up and down, taking him deeper with each stroke.

You love using your tongue to tease and please him. “Mmm…I always love the way you taste, Terry,” You said, taking him out of your mouth for a second.

Terry's eyes rolled back in pleasure as you continued to work your magic on him. His grip on your curly hair tightened, guiding you deeper and faster.

You pulled away with a gasp, saliva dripping from your mouth, and asked, “Mmm, talk to me Daddy how does it feel?” hitting his dick on your face before sucking at his balls

Terry's breaths were coming out in heavy pants as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust. "It feels fucking amazing, baby," he groaned, his hips moving involuntarily as you took him back into your mouth.

You moaned in response, the vibrations sending shivers down Terry's spine. Your hands continued to stroke and tease him, making him ache for more.

Terry couldn't resist any longer and tightened his grip on your hair, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. "Oh fuck, yes," he grunted, his hips thrusting faster now.

You could feel him getting closer, and you knew just how to push him over the edge. You used your tongue to trace patterns on his dick while sucking harder, causing Terry to cry out in pleasure.

"Damn it, sweetheart" he exclaimed as he spilled into your mouth. His body shook with release, and you swallowed every drop of his cum before sitting up and licking your lips.

"Mmm, your cum tastes so sweet," you said with a sly smile. Terry pulled you up onto the bed and flipped you onto your back, his eyes burning with desire as he hovered over you.

"I need to be inside of you right now,” Terry growled before capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He wasted no time in entering you, causing you both to moan, and you wrapped your thick legs around his waist.

Terry's thrusts were slow and deep, hitting all the right spots inside of you. Each one sent waves of pleasure through your body, making you moan louder and arch your back in ecstasy.

"Fuck, you feel so good. Does it feel good, baby?" Terry groaned, rising up as his hands gripped your wide hips tightly. He couldn't get enough of you; how you felt around him was like nothing else.

“Ah, yes, yes, fuck” You moaned, placing your hands around his wrist as he continued to thrust inside of you but still slowly. The room was alive with the sound of flesh softly smacking together, accompanied by your moans and his deep grunts.

"Oh, Terry, I love you to death, and I'm so grateful for everything you do. You're such an amazing man," you gasped out between breaths as he showed you exactly how much he loved you in return.

This man was more than just a husband, he was your everything, and nothing could change that. “Shit, baby, if you keep talkin' to me like that, I might nut another baby in but I'll save that for another time,”

Terry's muscles rippled as his eyes locked on yours with intense desire. The room around you was a blur as you focused on him, seeing the pleasure on his face.

“Pleeease, speed it up, Daddy fuck me harder.” you moaned out as Terry's hands tightened around your plump waist. “Mm, my nasty girl wants it harder?”

He asked, looking down at you with a smirk before picking up the pace, his thrusts becoming almost animalistic as he hit all the right spots inside of you.

“Yess, just like that, fuck…fuck me.” you cried, your body trembling from the intense pleasure of the pace. Your fingers gripping onto Terry's broad shoulders as he thrusts harder inside of you.

His hands tightly gripped your hips, leaving marks in their wake. The plush bed sheets envelop you in a cocoon of comfort, the heat emanating from Terry's body seeping into your own.

Looking up at Terry again, his intense gaze penetrates through you like a laser beam, igniting a fire within your core. You flip him onto his back, and his dick slides back into your wet, throbbing pussy.

His face contorted with pleasure, and his hands gripped your waist tightly. You bounce on him, your movements wild and uninhibited, your bodies melded in a passionate rhythm.

"Shit, I love you" You cried, can't help but admire the handsome man beneath you, his features twisted with ecstasy as his strong hands caress your breasts, thumbs circling your hardened nipples.

Arching your back, you grind your hips down harder, taking him even deeper inside you. The delicious friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"You like that, Daddy?" you purr, clenching around him. Your body is slick with desire, and you can feel your pussy pulsing for him. "You like how wet I am for you?"

Your voice dripping with need and longing. Each movement sends shivers of pleasure through your body, and you're unable to resist the urge to press closer against him, wanting to feel every inch of his skin against yours.

“Shit, shit, yes, yes,“ Terry grunts in response, gripping your hips and thrusting up to meet your movements. The new angle hits just the right spot, making you cry as you feel him wrap his hands around your neck.

“Bounce on that fucking dick, baby, bounce on that shit” Terry moans, his face contorted with pleasure and adores before his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open in a moan.

His chest rises and falls quickly as his body moves to meet yours. As you continue to ride him, you can feel your orgasm building, and you know that Terry is close, too.

The way his grip tightens on your neck, and his thrusts become more erratic tells you that he's reaching his peak. You lean forward, placing a hand on his chest for balance as you increase the tempo, feeling him filling you up completely with each thrust.

"You gonna cum for me, Daddy?" You moan into his ear, nipping at the lobe as your movements become more desperate. "You gonna fill me up with your hot cum, huh?"

Terry's response is a primal growl as he flips the two of you over, taking control once again. He pins your hands above your head, pounding into you with a ferocity that has you seeing stars.

Each thrust brings you closer to the edge, and just when you think you can't take it anymore, Terry's lips crash onto yours in a passionate kiss.

Your body explodes in pleasure as Terry's release hits him, too, both of you crying out each other's names in ecstasy. Your bodies are slick with sweat as he collapses on top of you.

Both of you breathing heavily and riding out the waves of pleasure. "God damn," Terry says between pants, pecking kisses all over your face before pulling out and snuggling into bed beside you.

You turn to face him, smiling contentedly as you can see the sweat glistening on both of your bodies and the satisfied smile on his face. His eyes are filled with adoration as he gazes at you.

As you lay in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking, Terry brushes a strand of curls hair away from your face.

"I can't believe how blessed I am to have you; thank you. This was an amazing birthday, baby" Terry says, his voice filled with love and sincerity as he gazes into your eyes.

You smile softly, feeling your heart flutter at his words. "I’m glad you enjoy yourself, Terry; I love you," you reply, tracing circles on his chest with your finger.

"I love you too" Terry leans down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly. The kiss is slow and deep, conveying all the emotions that words can't express.

You wrap your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body as you pull him closer, surrendering entirely to the moment. The world around you fades into the background, leaving just the two of you.

Suddenly, the peace is interrupted by your phone ringing, jolting you back to reality. It’s a call from your parents, who are on their way home with Elijah.

The moment's warmth slips away as you both realize how quickly time has passed while you are wrapped up in each other. After the call, you and Terry decide to refresh yourselves.

You step into the shower together, steam rising as water cascades over your bodies, the lingering temptation of another round swirling in the air, but you got washed.

Once you’re both dressed, there is a sharp knock on the front door. The sound echoes through the space, signaling the return of your parents and Elijah.

You went to go, and open the door to find them standing there, smiling warmly, with your dad holding Elijah's colorful diaper bag in one hand.

Excited chatter fills the air as they express their eagerness to babysit again. You can’t help but smile at the joyous moments ahead as you take the baby bag from your dad, feeling grateful for them.

-

Terry sat comfortably in the cozy living room, a soft smile on his face as he held Elijah in his arms, gently cooing at your son and making him gurgle with delight.

As you carefully lit the candles on the birthday cake, the delicious scent of vanilla wafted through the air, blending with the excitement of the celebration.

You took a moment to glance at Terry and Elijah, savoring the heartwarming scene before returning your attention to the flickering flames atop the cake, ready to sing "Happy Birthday" to your husband.

You entered the living room, the familiar tune bubbling up from within as you began to sing. Terry's smile widened at the sound of your voice, a beautiful melody that filled the air with joy.

Fascinated by the flickering candles, Elijah stared in awe, his little face brightening. As you concluded the song, your voice melded effortlessly with the warmth radiating from the room.

"Make a wish, handsome," You said with a smile, and Terry laughed softly, the sound rich with love and appreciation.

Terry closed his eyes for a moment to make a wish, and with a deep breath, he blew out the candles, sending a gentle plume of smoke swirling into the air.

'Yeah!!! Happy Birthday, Terry" You cheered happily, joy radiating from you as you watched the sparkle in his eyes, reflecting his contentment and love on this special day.

-

three months later,

making it six months since you gave birth.

As the months rolled by, it was in the middle of summer now, and you found yourself deeply immersed in the new routine of motherhood. Elijah was now six months old, and his personality began to blossom.

Each day brought challenges and joys, but lately, you felt the weight of the day-to-day responsibilities resting heavily on your shoulders. It had been particularly tough since Terry returned to work not too long ago.

The warmth seeped into your skin as the sun shone brightly in the sky, refreshing your spirit. You packed a picnic basket with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, some sliced apples, and a few cookies for a treat.

A soft blanket tucked under your arm, you walked to the park with Elijah nestled comfortably in his stroller, his tiny hands reaching up to the blue sky.

Once you arrived, you could hear the joyful sounds of children playing and laughter echoing around you. Finding a quiet spot under a large oak tree, you spread out the blanket and settled Elijah beside you.

His hazel eyes sparkled with curiosity as the gentle breeze rustled the leaves above. “Look at that, Elijah,” you smiled, pointing at a group of kids playing.

“Isn’t that amazing? One day, you’ll be over there with them.” You said, and Elijah cooed, kicking his little feet in excitement. You leaned down and tickled him, drawing forth a chorus of giggles.

“Would you like some yummy lunch?” you asked, reaching for a sandwich. As you offered him a few pieces of the soft bread, he leaned forward, trying to grab it with his tiny fingers.

His attempt was met with clumsiness and delight, the crumbs scattering on the blanket. A few moments passed of quiet enjoyment as you both munched on lunch.

You watched Elijah’s attention shift from the kites to the vibrant flowers blooming nearby. “Do you like the flowers, little man?” you asked softly with a giggle, noticing his wide-eyed wonder.

“They remind me of you—bright and full of life.” You said, kissing his forehead, and after the picnic, you lay back on the blanket, watching the clouds drift by.

Elijah babbled contentedly beside you, mimicking the sounds of nature. “You know, sometimes being a mom feels overwhelming, but moments like this make it all worth it,” you murmured softly.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice, “There you are!” It was Terry, looking a bit winded but incredibly happy to see you both. “I managed to leave work a little early. I wanted to surprise you guys!”

Elijah’s face lit up at the sight of his dad, and he wiggled with excitement. Terry knelt down, scooping up Elijah into his arms. “Hey, baby boy! How was your day?”

“It just got a lot better,” you replied, grinning. As the three of you settled back on the blanket, you felt the burdens of motherhood lift slightly.

After your delightful picnic, filled with laughter and sunshine, you all eventually returned home, savoring the remnants of the joy spent outdoors.

Soon you set about preparing dinner. You moved gracefully around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and stirring sauces while Terry kept a watchful eye on Elijah, who was happily playing with blocks on the living room floor.

As the two of you sat down to dinner, the table was beautifully set, and the warmth of the home enveloped you. You both talked about your days and how things were.

After finishing the meal, you rolled up your sleeves and tackled the clean-up together, the sound of clinking dishes and the warmth of togetherness filling the room.

You then turned your attention to Elijah, who was starting to squirm in his high chair. You went to change his diaper, the familiar routine providing a sense of contentment as he giggled at your playful face.

Meanwhile, Terry settled in in the living room, PS5 video game music punctuating the air. You felt grateful for the day, not expecting the lovely to suddenly take a turn for the worse.

"Terry?" You called from the top of the stairs, your voice echoing softly through the house. "What?" Terry shouted back from the living room, focused on the video game flashing before him.

"Where's Elijah's lion?" you asked, cradling your squirming son on your hip. You had been trying for the past hour to calm him down, and the soft cries coming from him were starting to wear you thin.

"I don't know; check under the couch," Terry replied dismissively, shrugging his shoulders as if it were a minor inconvenience. His nonchalance infuriated you.

"Shh, it's okay, Eli. Look, it's Simba! You love that movie, don't you?" you encouraged, trying to distract your son while glancing underneath the couch for the stuffed animal.

"Mmm," Elijah murmured, seemingly comforted by your words. You sighed in relief as your fingers brushed against the soft fur of the Simba toy nestled between the dust bunnies.

"Look, Eli, look who I found," you said cheerfully as you handed him the toy. His face lit up, and he babbled happily, his tiny fingers gripping the toy tightly.

A wave of contentment washed over you, and you softly sang a lullaby, hoping it would lull him to sleep. Once, he was peacefully dozing in your arms.

You carefully laid him in his crib and headed back downstairs to confront Terry, feeling both exhausted and exasperated. "He's asleep?" Terry asked, still engrossed in his game.

The screen glowed brightly as he played. "Yeah, but maybe it would've been easier if you actually helped me," you said, descending the stairs with a slight edge in your voice.

"I do help; what do you mean? I just washed the dishes with you" Terry replied, pausing the game and looking at you with an attitude that sent another spike of frustration through you.

"Yeah, when you want to," you shot back, and he rolled his eyes, which only fueled your anger further. "Well, I work," Terry mumbled as if that was the end of the conversation.

"Excuse me?" you asked, standing before him with your hands firmly planted on your hips, refusing to back down. "You heard me, I'm not about to repeat myself."

"I work; I would love to just come home and relax. I put food on the table and clothes on our son's back, and I pay all the mutherfucka bills around here." Tery ranted on.

"Is it so bad to ask for some quiet time?" Terry snapped, his voice rising and echoing in the small living room. You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

Sure, the two of you had minor arguments here and there, but he had never spoken to you like this before.

"I understand what you're saying, Terry, and I tell you how grateful I am for you. But it's not like I'm asking for much! You may be the one who brings home the paycheck," You started, moving in front of him.

"But I'm the one who takes care of our son around the clock; I cook, clean, and manage everything at home. You aren't the only one who's working their butt off!" you raise your voice a little bit.

"What's gotten into you? You never had a problem with this before! Now it's a problem?" You questioned, your demeanor shifting as confusion filled your eyes.

"Maybe I'm just tired of you," Terry said softly, and suddenly, the air in the room felt heavy, as though a dam had broken, releasing all the pent-up frustrations.

"Okay, well, maybe you should've married someone else if I'm such a fucking burden," you retorted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

You dashed upstairs to your shared bedroom, trying to hold back tears. "Shit!" You heard him curse as he called out your name, but you didn't stop to listen.

You closed the bedroom door behind you with a decisive thud, sinking onto the edge of your king-size bed before you buried your face in your hands, feeling the tears coming down your face.

[scarletwinterxx]

middle finger and promise rings - jaehyun scenario

helllooooo a fluff moment with jung jaehyun. I was scrolling through tiktok the other day and I found a compilation of him laughing and it was the cutest thing ever so now we're here😅

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics nad gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Jaehyun enters the apartment and the first thing he hears is your laugh. He hangs his jacket on the hook, takes off his shoes before walking towards the living room where he sees you lying on the couch giggling to yourself.

You spot him over your phone, quickly turning it off when you spot your boyfriend "Hi, you're home early" you greet him, walking towards him.

He smiles at you, opening his arms to give you a very much needed hug. He does everyday, without a fail. Whenever he gets home from work or somewhere, he asks for a hug from you.

"What were you watching?" he asks

"You"

"Huh?" he peaks down at you, still caged in his arms

"I was looking through my phone then I saw a bunch of videos, like from when we started dating until recent. You looked cute, especially when you laugh" you answer him

"I thought my laugh was loud" he chuckles, letting you to sit on the couch. You follow him, taking the seat beside him.

"It is. But I love it so much, you know you have this kind of laugh when you find something really funny and your face scrunches up in a cute way" you try to mimic it while Jaehyun watches.

You might as well tell him you'll marry him with the way you're making his heart explode right now. Moments like these are what he looks forward to the most when he comes home. The simple conversations with you, no matter how random they are, he cherishes them so much.

"Oh by the way, can we order chicken and pasta for dinner? Or chinese food? I can't decide, how about you what do you want?"

"Chinese sounds good, do you want me to call our favorite place?" he asks, already getting his phone out

"Okay, and this came in today by the way" you say, passing the package that arrived today. "What is it?" you ask, while waiting for him to open it

"I forgot, must've ordered this a long time ago"

Without checking the label he opens it. When he flips the unsealed package upside down, a velvet box falls on his lap.

The two of you freeze.

He should've checked the label. Jaehyun internally panics.

Meanwhile you don't say anything, waiting for him to do or say something. But he doesn't so you clear your throat, getting your phone on the table "I'll order, tell me if you want anything else" you tell him.

"Uh yea sure" Jaehyun swallows the lump in his throat, finally coming to his senses. Taking the box before excusing himself. You hear the bedroom door open and close.

After that night you don't mention anything about it. You didn't ask questions. You acted like you didn't see it. Jaehyun wondered if he should ask but he doesn't know where to start.

What do you think it was, did you have your suspicions, were you upset with him? These are the questions running in his mind. But you never said anything to him, like everything was normal.

He was debating if he should've just showed you what was inside. If you were thinking it was a ring then you're right.

About a few months ago, he ordered a ring after finally getting your size. He's still worrying if you'll like it. It's not an engagement rring, not yet atleast. The ring inside was a promise ring for you. You told him a story about wearing a ring ever since your teen years, way back before the two of you met. You bought yourself a ring, a promise to exchange it to something else when you get yourself a boyfriend.

You showed him the ring before, it was a simple metal band you used to wear on your middle finger. You never took it off, not a day. That was until he asked you to be his girlfriend.

Of course he had to get you a new one, he was just waiting for the right time to give it to you.

He forgot to check the email about the shipping and didn't expect it to arrive when it did. It definitely wasn't part of the plan to open it infront of you.

It's been a few weeks since then. You honestly kind off forgot about it. You trust Jaehyun will tell you in the right time.

Tonight, he's running a bit late. He got caught up in a meeting so when he got home you were already sleeping. He enters the apartment carefully, walking through the hallway and cracking the bedroom door slowly.

The lights were all off, the only light coming from outside but he can see your silhouette from under the blanket. Quickly but quietly he gets ready for bed, sliding beside you.

He turns sideways to watch you, eyes closed, face peaceful, breathing slow and quite. You're giving off the most serene aura, he can't think of anything else but you.

Your hand was resting open beside your head, he reaches a finger out to trace random patterns while still watching you. He missed you so much today, he don't want to wake you up but he wishes he can give you a hug.

He does that for quite some time, tracing things on your palm while watching you waiting for sleep to come to him too.

From random patterns, to short words. He's now tracing random words on your palm, like you always do with his. You always do it randomly, in public or when it's just the two of you. Most times you spell out the word 'I love you' on his palm, that was actually how you said it to him for the first time. It took him some time to finally realize it, and when he did looked over at you with a surprised look. Saying the same three words back at you.

Right now he traces the word 'mine' in yours, while his mind wonders just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

He believes this isn't the only lifetime he'll love you, it isn't possible. Wishing hoping praying that in all alternate universes, however many there are, that version of him meets their version of you.

Suddenly feelings emotional, he sits up on the bed before reaching for something in the bedside drawer.

You're a light sleeper, especially when you're by yourself. The only time you really fall into deep sleep is when Jaehyun's with you. That's why when you hear some ruckus from Jaehyun's side, you wake up from your slumber

"Jae? You're home?" you mumble, your eyes still closed

"Did I wake you? Sorry, baby. Go back to sleep, I'm here" he whispers. He pulls you towards him, resting your head on his chest. You cuddle him more, making yourself comfortable again.

You listen to his heartbeat to lull yourself back to sleep when you feel him take your hand that was resting on him, he puts something on you before you feel his lips kiss your knuckles.

"What are you doing?" you mumble, opening one eye to peak at your hand only to see a ring that definitely wasn't there before you slept.

You open both eyes this time, sitting up to look at it then at Jaehyun

"Explain" you tell him, gesturing at your hand

"It's a promise ring, remember you used to wear one before we started dating. It took sometime but I finally replaced that one, I didn't want to freak you out on our first anniversary so I waited until now" he explains

"Is this real or am I dreaming?" you ask him

Jaehyun chuckles before sitting up, now face to face with you. He takes your cheeks in his hands before pulling you towards him for a kiss

"This is very very real, my love"

"It's so pretty" you pout at the ring, a simple band with a diamond on it. Like a leveled up version of the one you used to wear

"I'm glad you like it even though I kinda ruined the surprise" he tells you

"I thought it was an engagement ring, not gonna lie"

He kisses you one more time before he pulls you down, settling you on his chest once again. "We'll get there one day. This time I'll make sure it's a surprise"

"But I am surprised, I love this surprise"

"And I love you, that ring is a promise to keep my promise of forever with you. One day we'll get there, one day I'll watch you walk down the aisle to me" he mumbles against your forehead, sealing it with a kiss after

"I'd love that, and I love you too"

"Let's go to sleep now, dream of me okay?"

[killerelysia]

Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur!- Solivan brugmansia x Yan!G.N Reader! (Part 5!) {1st part)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words:10000

Genre: Yandere-(Self aware yandere won the poll)

(Reader is G.N)

Summary: You’ve become consumed by your obsession with Solivan Brugmansia. What started as innocent curiosity quickly spiraled into a fixation. He started it and you began to stalk him, learning every detail about his life. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction in making Sol’s world safer while growing increasingly delusional about your connection with him. Your love for him deepens as you fantasize about the future, convinced that you are the one who truly understands him—better than anyone else. Despite the line between reality and obsession blurring, you remain certain: Sol is yours, even if he doesn’t know it yet.. You're his and he's yours...

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, mental instability, and delusional thinking, Drugging, Yandere?, Hopeless in love for attention Please read with caution.

This part will contain the Arcade Scene in Sol's Route so...Proceed with caution.

Mentions of Pet-names, Blood, (Implied ATTEMPTED S/A),

Obsessive behavior: The reader becomes dangerously fixated on someone, bordering on stalking and delusion.

Manipulation: The reader engages in schemes to control or harm others, often through deception.

Mental illness: Delusional thinking, possible dissociation from reality, and unhealthy fixation on someone.

Violence: There are references to bullying, physical harm, and emotional manipulation.

Emotional abuse: Both in terms of how the protagonist manipulates others and how they might internalize toxic behaviors.

Stalking: The reader watches and follows the person they are obsessed with.

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named The kid at the back!! Note, The relationship presented here between sol and reader is extremely toxic!! In no way, Just because I'm writing doesn't mean I support this kind of toxicity. Note, It's okay to like sol if you know the flaws and don't be a blind eye on them! Again, I don't support his actions etc! If you hate sol ignore this.

The school bell echoed through the hallway, signaling the start of the next class. Hyugo groaned loudly, stretching his arms dramatically.

"I don't want to go to class. I hate my History teacher almost as much as I hate my archery coach."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Weird. Doesn’t George of the Jungle like archery?" you quipped without thinking.

Hyugo froze, his baby-blue eyes narrowing slightly as his pout deepened. "Well, that’s his thing! It’s not like he shares everything with his big brother, you know. But I’m the star now, Y/n." His tone was defensive, but the look on his face said something else entirely: How the hell do you know so much about us?

You didn’t respond to his unspoken question, simply smiling to yourself. Keeping tabs on the secrets of the brothers had its perks, even if you were cautious not to push any boundaries. They weren’t people you wanted to turn against you. Dangerous as they were, having those secrets up your sleeve felt oddly empowering. And with Sol on your side, you weren’t too worried about the fallout. Hyugo clearly adored Sol, and Sol? Well, he wasn’t letting anyone mess with you.

It was to make sure, Geo won't diss your ass.

"Why don’t you just skip class then?" Sol suggested, almost too casually.

Hyugo’s entire face lit up, his eyes practically sparkling. It was as if a literal lightbulb had turned on above his head.

Both you and Sol immediately recognized that look.

“Don’t tell me—” Sol started, but Hyugo cut him off with a dramatic wave of his hand.

"I am skipping class! That’s it. Fuck this school!" he declared triumphantly. "If they’re going to treat us like crap, we might as well be the bad guys. Right, Y/n?"

You sighed heavily, already seeing where this was headed. Sol mirrored your reaction, exhaling loudly with a look of resigned annoyance.

Hyugo leaned closer, his grin widening mischievously. He was practically glowing with chaotic energy as he nudged you. “Come on, Y/n. Don’t tell me you’ve never skipped class before. It’s a beautiful day to break a few rules.”

Skipping class? As if you’d never done it before. Honestly, you’d lost count of the times you’d avoided lectures just to stalk observe Solivan Brugmansia. And now? The man himself and his overly enthusiastic counterpart were inviting you to join them. The temptation was palpable.

It wasn’t just tempting—it was irresistible.

Hyugo turned up the charm, grinning at you like the devil himself.

His expression screamed to you. But you know he doesn't know.

C’mon, Y/n. Look at this—your dream guy, Solivan Brugmansia, right here. All we’re missing is you. Come to the dark side—we’ve got rooftop vibes.

Your lips twitched. "Stop reading my mind," you muttered under your breath.

Skipping class actually sounded pretty good. The teacher was dull, Crowe would be there—ugh, not worth the effort. You glanced at Sol, who stood quietly, waiting for your decision. His expression said he’d go along with whatever you chose, but there was a certain edge of don’t make me regret this.

Hyugo’s voice interrupted your thoughts again. "So? What’s it gonna be? Stay here and suffer? Or join us in sweet rebellion?" He leaned in closer, his grin practically daring you.

“Fuck it. We skip!” you said with finality, throwing caution to the wind.

Hyugo cheered, throwing his arms into the air like he’d just won a championship. “That’s the spirit!”

Even Sol couldn’t hide the faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He sighed again but nodded, his hand brushing against yours briefly as he turned to follow Hyugo toward the stairs.

Well, you were already falling. Might as well enjoy the descent.

"But how the hell do we even pull this off? Obviously, we can’t go through the entrance. The vents are blocked, and—"

Sol’s lips curled into a small smile, one so rare and heart-stopping that your brain short-circuited on the spot.

"I know a way," he said calmly.

Wah! Huh?! Ehh?! Your heart was practically exploding as your face turned a deep, humiliating shade of red. You could barely think straight. Sol didn’t even seem to notice your flustered state as he turned and began leading the way.

Hyugo, oblivious as ever, dashed ahead, his energy as wild as ever. If either of them caught a glimpse of your lovesick expression, you’d never live it down.

The path Sol chose led to the back of the school, near the edge of the gardens. Towering iron fences barricaded the perimeter, but Sol confidently navigated through the greenery until he stopped in front of a large bush. He crouched and pushed it aside, revealing a decently sized hole in the fence.

Your jaw dropped. "Wait. Did you… make this? Sol?"

Before he could answer, Hyugo interjected with a proud grin. "He didn’t."

Sol cast Hyugo a sharp look. "He did."

Hyugo’s grin only widened. "I did," he admitted smugly before dropping down and crawling through the gap without hesitation.

Sol gestured for you to go next, his golden-crimson eyes scanning the area to make sure no one was watching. "Go on," he urged softly.

Why is he so sweet?! you thought, practically combusting on the spot. Trying not to overthink his protectiveness, you crouched and squeezed through the gap in the fence.

Leaves and twigs clung to your uniform as you emerged on the other side, brushing them off as Sol followed behind. The three of you maneuvered past bushes and shrubs, the crisp crunch of fallen leaves underfoot marking your escape. Finally, you reached the pavement on the other side of the grounds.

Sol stepped forward and held out a hand to help you up from where you crouched. You took it, your heart doing backflips at the gentle way he pulled you to your feet.

"So, what’s the plan?" you asked, glancing at Hyugo, who was already fumbling with his phone.

Hyugo’s eyes suddenly widened as he stared at the screen. His fingers flew across the screen in panic before he let out an overdramatic gasp and grabbed Sol’s shoulder in a vice-like grip.

"SHERLOCK HOLMES IS OUT?!" he practically screamed.

Sol winced, rubbing his ear. "My ears, Hyugo."

"The movie’s out?" you asked, raising a brow. Then, with a teasing smile, you added, "Did you set the date wrong again, Hyugo?"

"How could I?!" Hyugo shouted indignantly before bolting off at full speed, leaving you and Sol behind.

Sol pinched the bridge of his nose, his irritation bubbling just under the surface. "For the love of—" he muttered, hands on his hips. With a heavy sigh, he began walking after Hyugo.

You trailed alongside him, sneaking glances at his exasperated expression. Sol looked utterly defeated, like a parent chasing after their wayward child. It was hard not to laugh.

"Why are you smiling?" Sol asked, casting you a suspicious look.

You shrugged innocently, biting your lip to keep from laughing. "No reason."

He rolled his eyes but didn’t press further, the corners of his lips twitching upward despite himself.

Hyugo kept tapping furiously on his phone, but as his shoulders slumped, you realized it—he got the date wrong.

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he turned to you and Sol with a dramatic sigh. Then, clasping his hands together, he pulled out the biggest pair of puppy-dog eyes you’d ever seen.

"We have got to watch it! Can we, Y/n? Can we, Sunny?" he pleaded, his voice bordering on a whine.

"I’ll pass," Sol replied, crossing his arms. "You can go enjoy the movie. I’m planning to hit the arcade while you’re at it."

Hyugo’s pout deepened, the sparkle in his baby-blue eyes dimming into a pitiful half-lidded stare. "Aw, come on. Don’t you like crime movies, Sol? Isn’t Sherlock right up your alley?"

You bit your tongue, realizing too late what you’d just said. That tidbit of information? You’d learned it from stalking Sol. The way his eyes flicked toward you with a mix of surprise and suspicion told you he’d noticed.

"Y/n’s right!" Hyugo exclaimed, unknowingly coming to your rescue. "You’re always watching those crime videos, so come on, it’s perfect! Let’s go see it!"

But Sol’s face was set, his disinterest plain as day. "I’m not in the mood for a movie right now," he said simply.

Hyugo groaned before turning his attention to you, desperation flashing in his eyes. "How about you, Y/n? Would you like to watch it with me? The ticket and food are on me, of course!"

You hesitated, glancing at Sol. His gaze was unwavering, almost expectant.

"I’ll stick with Sol," you said finally. "The arcade sounds like fun."

Hyugo raised an eyebrow before shrugging, his pout quickly replaced with a mischievous grin. "Alright, go on your little impromptu date, then! I don’t want to third-wheel anyway."

"Date!?" you sputtered, your face immediately heating up.

Sol rolled his eyes, looking unfazed. "You’re the one who decided we should skip class and do whatever we wanted," he said with a shrug.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it!" Hyugo waved dismissively. "I’m off to the theater, then. Don’t let me stop you two lovebirds!" He stuck out his tongue playfully before turning to leave, his laughter echoing as he jogged away.

Sol let out a long sigh, shaking his head. "He’s impossible," he muttered.

Meanwhile, you stood frozen, your cheeks burning. Date…?

Sol turned to you, ready to move on, but his gaze caught you fiddling nervously with your hair, fingers twisting the strands like they held some hidden secret. Your lips moved in barely audible whispers, your voice trembling.

"D-Date…? D-Date?! DATE?!?!"

Your face had turned such a deep crimson that Sol immediately furrowed his brows, stepping closer. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern. Before you could react, his cool hand pressed against your burning forehead.

The sudden touch sent a jolt through your entire body, your nerves firing like a storm. You screeched, a mix of surprise and overwhelming emotion, and nearly stumbled backward.

"Y/n!" Sol exclaimed, his other hand darting out to steady you, but you quickly waved him off.

"I-I'm fine!" you stammered, your voice shaky. Your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. The thought made you panic even more. You reached out, gripping his arm with both hands as if tethering yourself to reality, and pulled him closer.

"Let’s just get going!" you blurted, tugging on his arm as you started walking. Sol stumbled slightly but followed, his face tinged pink now. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you.

But inside, oh, inside was a very different story.

Your grip on his arm was firm, almost possessive. You could feel the fabric of his sleeve under your fingers, could feel the warmth of his skin beneath it. It was grounding, intoxicating even. His scent—a faint mix of lavender and something uniquely Sol—wrapped around you like a blanket.

Your mind churned with chaotic thoughts, obsessive and dark but cloaked in a sugary sweetness that made them feel almost...innocent.

He’s mine. No one else can touch him like this. No one else can make him blush like I can. Hyugo can call it a date all he wants—it’s not just that. It’s more. So much more. He’s perfect, isn’t he? Perfect and mine.

Your grip tightened slightly as you walked, but Sol didn’t seem to notice.

But what if someone tries to take him away?

The thought slithered in unbidden, souring your moment of happiness. You glanced at Sol from the corner of your eye. His calm, handsome face made your heart swell again, but the fear lingered.

You tugged him closer as you walked, your pace slightly faster now, as if putting distance between him and anyone who might come too close. Sol gave you a curious glance but didn’t pull away. If anything, he seemed content with the silence, his steps steady beside yours.

He didn’t know. He didn’t notice the way your thoughts spiraled, the way your mind painted scenarios of keeping him close, of ensuring no one ever got between you two.

No one ever would.

The bright neon lights of the arcade's exterior came into view, their vibrant hues reflecting off the wet pavement from an earlier drizzle. You paused for a moment to admire the sight, turning to Sol with a curious tilt of your head.

“Is this place new?” you asked, your tone a mix of wonder and excitement.

Sol, standing casually beside you, shook his head. “No,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of his usual calm exasperation. “It’s hidden in the city. Hard to notice unless you know what you’re looking for.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And how do you know about places like this?”

Sol sighed, his annoyance barely masked. “Because Hyugo drags me to places like this all the time,” he muttered, his tone dry.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his expression, earning a small shrug from him. Without another word, he reached into his pocket and handed you a few tokens.

“So, which game are we starting with?” he asked, his crimson-and-orange eyes glinting faintly under the arcade’s colorful lights.

Your heart skipped at how effortlessly he seemed prepared. “Wow, you were ready for this, huh?”

Sol smirked slightly, his voice soft but teasing. “As always.”

Then, without thinking, he held out his hand toward you, not for the tokens, but for you to take. Your breath hitched, your heart thundering in your chest. Hesitating only for a moment, you placed your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.

Together, you stepped into the arcade, the cacophony of beeping machines, upbeat music, and excited chatter enveloping you both.

The two of you roamed the arcade, hopping from game to game. Sol was surprisingly skilled—his reflexes sharp, his focus unshakable—but you knew, you just knew, he was letting you win most of the time.

When you pointed it out, pouting, “It’s not fair—you keep letting me win,” Sol’s lips quirked into a faint smile.

“Maybe you’re just that good,” he said smoothly, his tone making your cheeks flush.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “You’re such a flatterer.”

But then, in the next few rounds, something shifted. Both of you started losing games—repeatedly. It didn’t take long to figure out why. Sol was purposefully holding back, trying to make sure you won, and you, in turn, were doing the exact same for him.

Neither of you said a word about it.

Instead, you both exchanged bashful glances, silently acknowledging the unspoken game within the game. The warmth spreading in your chest was undeniable.

Eventually, you found yourself at a claw machine, fishing out the last of your tokens to insert into the slot. The machine beeped in denial, signaling you were out.

“Hold on,” Sol said, already turning toward the token exchange counter. “I’ll grab some more.”

Before he left, he pressed the remainder of his tokens into your hand. “Use these in the meantime,” he said softly.

Your fingers closed around the tokens, and as he walked away, you couldn’t help but stare after him, your heart full. He’s so... thoughtful, you mused, biting back a smile.

You moved through the rows of arcade machines, the excitement of the games buzzing around you. Your eyes scanned each one, but then something caught your attention—a claw machine, with a plushie horse sitting inside. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you remembered Hyugo mentioning that Sol liked plushies, particularly ones shaped like horses. Perfect, you thought to yourself. This could be the perfect surprise for him.

You made your way to the claw machine, carefully inserting a token and adjusting the joystick with precision. Your eyes locked onto the horse plushie, and you steered the claw expertly, watching it descend and grab onto the toy. Your heart skipped a beat as the claw began to lift, bringing the horse towards the chute. Almost there…

But then—SMACK!

A sharp sound echoed in your ear as someone suddenly slapped your ass. You whipped around, fury bubbling up inside you as you glared at the man who reeked of alcohol, his breath sour and sloppy. The two men flanking him were equally obnoxious, their laughter cutting through the air.

"Hey, beautiful," the man slurred, his grin crooked and nasty. "You’re looking a bit lost. Let me show you how to play the game."

The words made your blood boil. You couldn’t stand these assholes, thinking they could just take what they wanted. Without hesitation, you spun around, your foot swinging up sharply and connecting with the man’s crotch.

"Ahh!" He groaned, doubling over in pain.

Without another word, you bolted, your heart pounding as adrenaline surged through your body. You dashed through the arcade, glancing back to see the drunken fools stumbling after you. The guy who'd slapped you shouted, his voice slurring but still full of aggression, "Don’t let them get away!"

The chase was on, but you weren't about to let them catch you. You rounded a corner, slipping through a gap between machines, and immediately dove into the crowd of people. You kept your head down, weaving through the arcade, trying to lose them in the maze of flashing lights and clinking tokens.

The sound of their footsteps was close behind, but you managed to stay one step ahead, your mind focused and determined. You didn’t know what they would do if they caught up to you, but you sure as hell weren’t going to find out..

You ran desperately, your heart hammering in your chest as you darted through the arcade, weaving through machines and crowds, but the clattering noise of the games drowned out your calls for help. The panic rose in your throat. Where the hell is Sol?

You kept running, your mind racing for a solution. Your fingers brushed the glass shards scattered near a broken machine, and your heart quickened with an idea. You grabbed one of the shards, feeling the sharp edge in your grip as you ran towards the restroom. Your legs burned, but you didn’t dare slow down. You had to get away from those bastards.

Slamming the door behind you, you locked it as best as you could. But just as you pulled out your phone, your fingers trembling, you cursed—no signal. The frustration and fear made your heart sink, and your anger boiled over. Shit, shit, shit...

You leaned against the wall, trying to steady your breath, but then the unmistakable sound of banging hit the door. They're coming.

And then it happened—the door slammed open with force, crashing into the wall. The man who'd slapped you earlier and his two buddies stood in the doorway, their grins sickening. They were too close, and you backed up instinctively, the glass shard tight in your hand.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, darling," one of them said with a slur in his voice, his smirk crooked. "All we want is a little favor."

Your anger flared up. A favor? You’re out of your fucking minds.

You swung the shard at the closest guy, the blade aimed for his neck. But before you could connect, one of the others kicked you in the stomach. The impact knocked the wind out of you, sending you crashing to the ground with a sharp gasp.

You tried to push yourself up, your body aching from the fall, but the man who had kicked you grabbed your arm, dragging you to your feet. "Come on, baby. You’re gonna make this easy on us, right? Be a good little pet."

The words were too much, the rage coursing through you. Pet? You’re gonna regret this.

You struggled, kicking out at the men, but your strength was fading, your body bruised and aching. With everything inside you, you fought back, pushing them away as best as you could. But your legs buckled from the pain, and you collapsed onto the cold floor. Desperation clouded your mind as you curled up instinctively to shield yourself, closing your eyes, hoping for anything.

Sol… please… The thought of him rushed into your mind, but the darkness surrounding you felt so suffocating.

"Hey, it's not a big deal."

You barely registered the words before you felt the force of the man's body jerked off of you, thrown aside like a ragdoll.

A sickening sound filled the room—the sound of flesh slamming against flesh, followed by another impact. The harsh noise made you flinch, your body trembling as you lay on the cold floor, the shards of glass still clutched in your hand.

"That's enough, Sol..." Hyugo's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding, but still there was an edge of worry underneath.

The sound of bones cracking echoed in the room, making your stomach churn. Is that...Sol?

"No," came Sol's voice, colder than ice, sharp with authority. "Not yet."

You couldn’t bring yourself to move, paralyzed with fear as the sounds of violence continued. Every punch from Sol, every crack of bone, made your heart beat faster—faster in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You should have been terrified, but part of you... part of you was strangely calm.

"That's enough, Sol! You broke his nose already!" Hyugo's voice raised, his usual calm demeanor cracking as he shouted at Sol.

But Sol didn’t stop. He was relentless, too consumed by whatever dark emotion controlled him in this moment. The thudding of his fists hitting the man reverberated in the small space, making you wince with each strike.

"Not yet." Sol’s voice was like ice again, his tone unmistakable.

Hyugo’s voice was tinged with panic now. "That's enough, Sol. Y/n needs your help."

Your heart skipped at the mention of your name. The icy grip of fear surrounding you melted for a split second as you opened your eyes, only to be met with the familiar sight of Sol’s intense gaze, his reddish-orange eyes wide with something between concern and fury.

He froze. His body stiffened, and for a moment, everything went silent.

The way he looked at you—the way he always looked at you—it wasn’t like anything else. It wasn’t just concern, nor was it just anger. His eyes softened for a brief moment, his pupils slightly dilated, his hands still clenched into fists, but now... it was like he was seeing you—really seeing you—through the chaos.

Sol kneeled beside you, his hand reaching out hesitantly. His fingers grazed your cheek, brushing away the tear that had fallen in the heat of the moment.

Sol quickly moved to your side, his eyes wide with shock, and without a word, he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. His shoulders shook as he held you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as though he were trying to control his own emotions. You didn’t speak—couldn’t speak. Everything was spinning, the sounds of the scuffle still echoing in your mind, but Sol’s warmth and the way he clung to you helped you focus.

The man who had threatened you now lay still on the ground, a pool of blood slowly spreading around him. His goons were scattered around the corner, unconscious and out of the fight. Your eyes flickered to Hyugo, but the look he gave you wasn’t the usual playful kindness. His gaze was hard, his jaw tense, his eyes twitching as he let out a long, annoyed sigh. The irritation was clear on his face, but there was a sense of worry beneath it, too, as he looked at the mess Sol had made.

Hyugo finally broke the silence, his voice unusually flat. "It's getting quite late. We should head home."

He tapped Sol’s shoulder, prompting the taller male to pull away from you. Sol hesitated for a moment, his face burying deeper into your neck as if he were reluctant to let go. It was only after a few seconds that he finally loosened his grip, his hands lingering on you as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let you go completely.

"Y/n…" Sol whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was rough, like he was fighting something deeper inside him. He pulled back slowly, not meeting your eyes but still close enough to you that you could feel the intensity of his presence.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his actions—of everything—press down on you. He had protected you... in his own way. But you didn’t know what to feel, didn’t know what to think.

Sol's eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed—whether from anger or worry, it was hard to tell. But what was evident was the silent pain he tried so hard to conceal. His emotions had broken free, and now, tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left you...I..." His voice wavered, hesitant, as he struggled to find the right words.

"Sol..." You spoke softly, gently reaching out to cup his cheek. He flinched at the touch, as if the comfort was too much to bear. The tears he had fought to hold back now poured down his face without restraint.

He relaxed after a moment, closing his eyes and leaning into your hand. He held it gently, as though he feared letting go.

"I don't know what I'd do if..." His words trailed off, the weight of his unspoken fears pressing down on him.

"It's okay... It's alright..." you reassured him, your voice calm, offering the quiet support he desperately needed. The atmosphere between you both felt heavy, yet there was an understanding, a sense of safety, in the silence that followed.

You held Sol's hands to your face, tears spilling freely from your eyes as the overwhelming emotions finally broke through. It was a short, breathless cry, but it was enough to shake you to the core. You felt his warmth, his presence grounding you as the fear and pain that had built up in you over time began to dissolve.

"Thank you... thank you, Sol..." you sobbed, your voice shaky. You almost flinched, not fully prepared for the rush of emotions, but before you could pull away, you pulled him into a tight hug. The weight of everything seemed to lift just a little as you pressed yourself into him, letting the sobs rack through your body.

Sol was frozen for a moment, shocked by the sudden outpouring. His body tensed, but then he slowly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His own tears continued to fall, soft and almost hesitant, as though he didn’t know what to do, but instinctively, he was there for you.

Hyugo stood nearby, watching the scene unfold. He was quiet, giving you both the space you needed. The tension that had hung between you and Sol seemed to ease as you held each other, though Sol's quiet sobs still lingered in the air. You could feel the raw emotion, the vulnerability between you, and it only made you hold on tighter.

the three of you stood there, the tension in the air thick and heavy, you felt the warmth of Hyugo’s hand slip into yours. His touch was gentle, yet firm, like he was trying to ground you in that moment, as if to reassure you that everything would be okay. But your eyes were on the plushie in his other hand— the horse plushie you had won for Sol earlier at the arcade. It seemed almost too perfect now, as if it were a symbol of everything that had happened, and everything that had changed.

You didn’t say anything about the plushie. You couldn’t. It felt strange to speak after everything, and it almost felt as if the words would break the fragile bubble that had formed between the three of you.

Sol, still lost in his guilt, stepped back. His gaze never quite met yours as he looked at the ground, a mix of regret and something deeper written across his face. His breath was shaky, his usual cool demeanor shattered. You could tell he was still processing everything, still fighting with the weight of his own emotions.

You were about to say something, Hyugo spoke up, his voice breaking the heavy silence. "It's getting dark now. We should head back," he said, his voice soft but insistent.

Sol’s hand, which had been loosely holding yours, suddenly tightened. You flinched slightly, surprised by how possessively he gripped you now. It wasn’t protective, not this time. It was as if he needed to hold onto you, as though afraid you might slip away if he didn’t.

You didn’t say anything in response. Instead, you let your fingers curl tighter around his hand, instinctively drawing closer to him. The need to stay near him, to feel his presence, was overwhelming.

Hyugo noticed, though he said nothing, his eyes glancing from you to Sol, as if understanding more than he let on.

Sol didn’t pull away, his grip on you more desperate now. His body was stiff, but you could feel the tremor in his hand. It was clear: Sol wasn’t just protecting you. He was holding onto you because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

Sol’s grip on your hand remained unrelenting, his knuckles white from the intensity with which he held you. It was clear he wasn’t about to let go anytime soon. Hyugo let out a long, frustrated sigh, his eyes scanning the surroundings before looking back at the two of you.

“I guess the arcade’s off-limits for a while,” Hyugo said with a hint of concern in his voice. “Those guys might come back, and we don’t need any more trouble.”

Sol’s grip tightened even more, a subtle growl in his voice as he spoke, “If they come back... I’ll give them more than just a broken nose.”

Hyugo chuckled nervously, his hands raised in mock surrender. “You're pretty scary when you’re like this, Sol.”

A dark smirk flickered on Sol’s lips, his gaze never leaving the ground as he muttered, “Good. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Hyugo shook his head, clearly trying to lighten the mood, but Sol wasn’t having it. He rummaged through his pockets, pulling something out before handing it to Sol. You couldn’t see what it was, but from the look on Sol’s face, it was clear he wasn’t pleased.

“I told you those don’t work anymore,” Sol grumbled, his eyes narrowing as he looked at whatever Hyugo had given him.

Hyugo rolled his eyes, looking unamused. “It’s because you’re not taking them, you fool. Now, take it tonight.”

Sol scowled, like a child being scolded, but he took the object from Hyugo’s hand with a reluctant sigh. He stuffed it into his pocket without a word, his expression darkening even further.

Sol slipped the small, plastic package into his pocket, the faint sound of the crinkling plastic reached your ears, and your heart skipped a beat. You tried to shake off the feeling, but your mind couldn’t help but race. The thought of the small pill container now hidden in his pocket lingered in your thoughts.

It must be sleeping pills for Sol...

You quickly glanced away, trying to push the unsettling thought out of your head, but it only made the darkness within you swirl more intensely. Sol... You knew him. His obsession, his need for control. You didn’t want to think it, but the idea that he could use those pills on you, to make you fall asleep so he could whisper his sweet nothings... That thought lingered in your mind, and you couldn’t deny the twisted thrill that sparked within you.

How cute, right? The thought of him being so controlling over you, his obsession so deep that he would go to such lengths to ensure you never left his side, even in sleep. But you knew better than to turn a blind eye. You couldn’t afford to.

You need to watch out for your food and drinks.

You swallowed the knot in your throat, the idea of Sol having complete power over you creeping up again. The way he was so gentle, so caring on the surface, but you knew better. You knew he wanted more, and you weren't sure how far he'd go to keep you close, to make you his. But it didn’t stop you.

You want to see all of his sides.

All of his SIDES

Your hand tightened around his, and despite the dark thoughts swirling in your mind, you kept your eyes on him, on every small movement. You couldn’t let it happen. You wouldn’t let it.

You consent to him, your body is HIS.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t watch him. Watch his every move, keep track of every little thing he did to you.

"Anyway, your place is just around the corner... You should head back as soon as possible. I'll be taking Y/n home," Hyugo said, his voice light as he tried to steer the situation.

Sol's eyes narrowed instantly, his grip shifting from holding your hand to wrapping his arm around you possessively. His gaze turned dark, a silent challenge in his eyes as he glared at Hyugo.

"I can walk them home," Sol's voice was low, almost a growl as he squeezed your waist tighter, pulling you closer to him.

You winced slightly at the pressure, a soft hiss escaping your lips, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth. The way Sol was acting, so protective, so obsessive—his possessiveness was palpable.

CUTE… CUTE… MINE... MINE...

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, your eyes fluttering slightly as they softened, the world around you blurring into nothing but Sol’s grip, his possessiveness. Your gaze turned distant, pupils dilating, heart racing as you lost yourself in the intense focus of his touch.

His arm wrapped around your waist tighter, squeezing you closer to him, and you shivered, a rush of warmth flooding through your body. CUTE… CUTE… MINE… The words reverberated in your mind, the pull of them drawing you deeper into the madness. His obsession with you was so consuming, so perfect—and you wanted more.

You stared at him with hearts in your eyes, a twisted sense of euphoria blooming in your chest. Each second, each possessive gesture, it was like a drug. You didn’t care how dark it was—this was what you wanted. You didn’t need to escape, not when he was right there, keeping you his. His jealousy, his obsession—it was all a delicious game, a dance of power and control, and you were more than happy to play your part.

Hyugo noticed the shift in the air, his gaze flicking between you and Sol, his usual carefree expression replaced with a hint of concern, though the look didn’t quite reach his eyes. Sol, however, was unwavering. The two exchanged a look—a glare full of tension, but neither one was willing to back down.

And you? You could hardly contain yourself. Watching their interaction, feeling Sol’s arm tighten, the possessiveness pouring from him, you were drunk on it. You wanted him to tighten his grip even more. To show the world you were his, that no one else could touch you. You wanted him to break anyone who dared to even look at you wrong.

Your thoughts spiraled deeper, you couldn’t help but press yourself into Sol’s side, letting him hold you tighter, letting the dark satisfaction flow through you.

"I want Sol… to accompany me home. Hyugo, you must have something to do, right?" you said, your voice sweet yet laced with an undeniable finality. Both men froze at your words, their expressions shifting like ripples in a storm.

Hyugo's brows furrowed in visible disapproval, his baby-blue eyes narrowing as if searching for the logic in your decision. Meanwhile, Sol’s face transformed. His surprise melted into something smug, his lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk, Cocky as he slowly turned his head toward Hyugo, his crimson-and-orange eyes gleaming with an unsettling mixture of delight and triumph.

"You heard them, Hyugo," Sol began, his voice dripping with false sincerity, though his amusement was impossible to hide. "I can handle this. I can walk Y/n home. Y/n trusts me. I want you to trust me, too." He closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly, feigning an air of genuine concern. But you could feel the smugness radiating off him, his grip on you subtly tightening as if staking his claim.

Hyugo’s disbelief was palpable. His jaw tensed, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, veins bulging under the strain. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he said nothing for a moment, the silence between the three of you thick and charged.

Finally, Hyugo sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. "If that’s what you want, Y/n," he said, though his tone carried an edge of reluctant acceptance. "I can’t force you."

You gave him a soft, almost apologetic smile. "Don’t worry, Hyugo. I’m fine with however Sol is," you said, your voice gentle but deliberate. The words hung in the air, a quiet affirmation that twisted the tension into something sharper.

Hyugo’s eyes darkened for a brief moment, but he nodded. Without another word, he turned on his heel and began walking away, his footsteps heavy against the pavement. You and Sol stood together, watching his retreating figure grow smaller and smaller until he disappeared into the shadows.

The air shifted once Hyugo was gone, and you felt Sol’s smirk grow wider as he turned his gaze down to you, his hand slipping into yours, possessive and warm. His grip tightened just slightly, and your heart raced—not from fear, but from the intoxicating thrill of knowing you had chosen him.

Sol rubbed at the lingering redness in his eyes, his gaze shifting to meet yours. His voice was soft, almost vulnerable. "Why is he so bossy? Especially with you… I always thought he was the carefree type. Guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover. Funny… that’s something I tell myself all the time."

His words trailed off, his eyes flicking back to the empty path Hyugo had taken. His expression darkened for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. You knew what was running through his mind. Sol wasn’t just observant—he was obsessive, possessive. He knew more than he let on, always watching, always waiting. It should’ve scared you. Maybe, once, it had. But now…

You found it thrilling.

The knowledge of his fixation, his relentless need to keep you close, stirred something deep inside you. It wasn’t fear—it was desire. The darker, twisted part of you craved it, craved him. You loved the way he obsessed over you, the way his need for you bled into every little action. You wanted him closer, deeper—wrapped around you entirely.

There was no love. It was the love for his obesseion

As if sensing your thoughts, Sol’s hand found yours, his fingers curling tightly around them. His crimson-orange gaze softened as his lips curved into a boyish smile, a stark contrast to the shadows lingering in his eyes.

"What matters is that you’re here with me right now," he said, his voice filled with a strange, innocent warmth that tugged at something dark within you. "Shall we get going?"

That smile—so deceptively sweet, so utterly his—made your chest tighten. You reached out, your hand brushing through his hair in a soft, almost tender gesture. "Let’s go," you murmured, your voice carrying a faint edge of something you didn’t care to define.

Without waiting for a reply, you led him forward, your fingers still entwined with his as your other hand slipped to his arm, holding onto him as if anchoring him to you.

If he noticed the way your grip was a little too tight, your steps a little too deliberate, he didn’t say anything. Instead, his smirk lingered just long enough to let you know—he was just as lost in you as you were with him.

He doesn't know but you knew.

"Please excuse the mess," you said with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of your head as you opened the door and gestured for Sol to enter. "I wasn’t expecting any visitors tonight, so it’s not exactly spotless."

"I don’t mind," Sol replied softly, stepping inside. Yet, once he crossed the threshold, he didn’t move any further, lingering near the door like a statue.

His stance was stiff, almost awkward. You tilted your head, watching him curiously. Why was he acting like he hadn’t been here countless times before, sneaking in and lurking in your shadows?

"Come on, don’t just stand there," you said, taking his hand gently but firmly, leading him to the living room. Sol followed, his hand warm in yours but his body still rigid. You guided him to the couch, nudging him to sit.

He hesitated for a moment before lowering himself onto the cushions. Placing the horse plush you’d won for him carefully on the table beside him, his crimson-orange gaze flicked toward you, unreadable.

"You don’t need to be so stiff, Sol. Relax! Make yourself at home," you said, your tone soft and teasing.

"…Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m just… not used to being in someone else’s space. Let alone their home."

Liar.

You bit back a knowing smile, folding your arms as you stared him down. Sol had probably been in every corner of your apartment at least once. When he stalks.

"Not even Hyugo’s?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sol shook his head silently, his gaze dropping to his hands. His knuckles were bruised, faint traces of blood still visible from earlier. Your heart clenched at the sight, and without thinking, you reached out to take his hand again.

"Stop that," you scolded, catching him flexing his fingers like he was testing their strength. "Wait here. I’ll get the medical kit. And don’t you dare make things worse by straining your fists!"

"You don’t have to do this," he said softly, almost regretfully. His voice carried a tinge of sadness, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"My house, my rules," you shot back, planting your hands on your hips. "And I insisted on treating your wounds. So sit tight, no arguments."

Sol didn’t argue. He sat there, his body still tense, but at your words, you noticed his shoulders ease just slightly.

"Stay here," you repeated, your tone gentler this time as you turned to grab the kit.

You rummaged through your cabinets until you found the medical kit, a bit dusty from lack of use. With it in hand, you returned to the living room, where Sol was sitting exactly as you’d left him—his gaze unwavering and fixed on the spot where you had disappeared.

"Hands," you said firmly, kneeling beside him as you opened the kit.

Sol gave you a pointed look, his crimson-orange eyes narrowing slightly. "You treat me like a dog sometimes," he grumbled, holding out his bruised hands reluctantly. "But fine. Here."

You giggled, unable to help yourself at his petulant tone. "Aww, poor Sol," you teased. "But it’s not my fault you obey like one."

His cheeks flushed instantly, a deep crimson spreading up to his ears. "Y-you’re ridiculous," he muttered, turning his head slightly to hide his embarrassment, but he didn’t pull his hands away.

"Sit still," you said softly, smiling as you began to work.

Step by step, you treated his wounds. First, you gently cleaned his knuckles with a damp cloth, wiping away the dried blood and dirt. His fingers twitched in your grip, and you glanced up to see him staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"Does it hurt?" you asked, your voice almost a whisper.

"No," he said quickly, his gaze darting away. But the way his hands tensed told a different story.

Next, you dabbed at the cuts with antiseptic. His breath hitched, but he didn’t complain, only biting his lip and watching you carefully.

"You’re doing so well," you murmured, the words slipping out unconsciously.

His eyes widened briefly before softening, his lips parting as if to say something. Instead, he just nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Finally, you wrapped his knuckles in gauze, your fingers brushing against his skin as you secured the bandages. Every touch felt electric, and you swore you could feel his pulse quicken under your fingertips.

"There," you said, leaning back to admire your handiwork. "All done. See? That wasn’t so bad."

Sol flexed his fingers experimentally, then looked down at his bandaged hands. "…Thanks," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight of emotion that made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. "Anytime, Sol. You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?"

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the room felt impossibly still. "Always," he said, his voice low and earnest, his gaze unwavering.

Without thinking, as if guided by instinct rather than reason, you raised Sol's bandaged hand to your lips and pressed a soft kiss against the gauze. The motion was slow, deliberate, and almost reverent.

Sol's eyes widened in shock, his cheeks immediately flushing a deep crimson. He froze, utterly unprepared for the gesture. "W-what are you doing?" he stammered, his voice cracking slightly.

You smiled softly, letting his hand linger against your lips for a moment before lowering it. "Just showing my appreciation," you said.

His lips twitched, forming a pout as he glanced away, his ears burning red. "You need to stop treating me like a little kid," he mumbled, the sulkiness in his tone doing little to mask his embarrassment.

"Do you hate it?" you asked, tilting your head curiously, watching as his blush deepened.

He didn’t respond immediately. The pout on his lips faded into a silence that spoke volumes.

You chuckled softly, holding his hand against your cheek. His fingers twitched slightly, and you could feel the warmth of his skin even through the bandages. Your voice dropped to a soft, soothing murmur. "Thank you, Sol… for saving me back there. For being there when I needed you the most."

You leaned your face into his hand, closing your eyes briefly as if savoring his touch. "You were incredible," you whispered, your tone filled with admiration. "You’re always so strong, Sol. Always there to protect me. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Your words were carefully chosen, each one designed to feed the storm of obsession you knew was brewing inside him. And oh, how he reacted.

His breath hitched audibly, his gaze fixated on you. His crimson-orange eyes were wide, shimmering with something between adoration and disbelief. His blush deepened further, spreading to his neck and ears.

"You… you mean that?" His voice was barely above a whisper, trembling slightly.

"Of course I do," you said softly, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. The way his face flushed, his lips parted as if he were about to say something, and the sheer awe in his expression—it was intoxicating.

He looked at you like you were the center of his universe, the very air he breathed. And you loved it.

He pulled his hand away slightly, but only to cup your face with both hands, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks. His gaze burned with intensity now, his earlier shyness replaced by something darker, more consuming.

"I’ll always protect you," he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. "No one will ever hurt you again… I won’t let them."

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "I know," you whispered. "I trust you, Sol. Completely."

The corners of his lips curved into a shaky smile, his eyes glimmering with devotion—and something even deeper, more dangerous.

You didn’t need to say it, but you both understood it:

You belonged to him, and he belonged to you.

You held Sol's hands against your face, your voice soft and trembling just enough to make it seem vulnerable. "You're the only one who's always been there for me, Sol," you murmured, letting your gaze lock onto his, wide-eyed and glimmering with sincerity. "When things get dark, when I'm scared, it's always you."

His breath caught in his throat, and his grip on your face grew firmer, as if anchoring himself to your words. His eyes were searching, desperate to believe every syllable that fell from your lips.

"I don’t know what I’d do without you," you continued, tilting your head slightly to nuzzle his palm, your voice just barely above a whisper.

The effect on him was immediate. Sol's entire body tensed, and a faint tremble ran through his fingers as he cupped your face. His eyes were swimming with emotions—guilt, adoration, obsession—all tangled together into something raw and overwhelming.

"Y/n…" His voice cracked, and he bit his lip, struggling to hold himself together.

You smiled sweetly, leaning forward just a fraction, your gaze never leaving his. "I don’t care what anyone else thinks or says. You’ve always been the one who understands me, who truly sees me. I feel safe with you, Sol... only you."

His reaction was everything you wanted. His eyes darkened, his pupils dilating as his breathing became uneven. His possessive grip returned, his fingers trembling slightly as if he was holding himself back from something primal.

But that wasn’t enough for you. His obsession was addictive, and you wanted to see more of it. To feel the heat of it consume you.

You let out a soft laugh, almost teasing, as your gaze dropped momentarily to his lips before meeting his eyes again. "You’re so good to me, Sol... so perfect. It’s almost unfair how much I need you."

His eyes widened, and his face flushed crimson. "N-need me?" he stammered, his voice trembling.

"Of course," you said, tilting your head and smiling like you’d just confessed a harmless secret. "Who else could it be? You’re the only one who’s ever truly been there for me. I can’t imagine trusting anyone else the way I trust you."

He swallowed hard, his hands twitching as if he wanted to pull you closer but wasn’t sure how much closer he could get without losing himself entirely.

And that’s when you saw it—the flicker of something darker in his eyes. A hunger, a desperate need to keep you as his, to prove he was the only one you needed.

Inside, you felt a surge of satisfaction. His reactions, his obsession, his love—it was all so deliciously intoxicating.

You leaned into his touch, your voice softening to a whisper, dripping with sweetness. "You’re all I need, Sol. Just you."

And as his trembling lips curled into a shaky smile, his eyes shining with devotion and possessiveness, you couldn’t help but think: Perfect.

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze just a fraction, feigning shyness. "I… I know it might sound silly, but after what happened, I… I don’t want to be alone. The idea of being around anyone else… guys, girls… it scares me."

You felt his hands tense against your skin.

"But with you?" You lifted your gaze to meet his, your eyes shining with unshed tears, perfectly calculated. "I feel safe. You're the only one I trust now, Sol. The only one."

He swallowed hard, his throat visibly bobbing, his expression torn between disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

"Sol… Can I… Can I stay near you from now on? Please?" You tilted your head, your voice trembling as if the thought of rejection might break you. "I just… I’m scared, Sol. Scared of everyone else after what happened. But I know you’d never let anything bad happen to me. Right?"

His face was a mixture of awe and something darker, almost feral, as if your words were wrapping around him like chains he didn’t want to escape.

"Of course," he managed, his voice thick with emotion. "You can stay close to me. Always. I won’t let anyone—anyone—hurt you again."

Your lips trembled into a small pout, and you reached up to clutch his hands tighter against your face. You tilted your head slightly, acting as though his words were an anchor for your frayed nerves.

"Thank you, Sol," you whispered, your voice breaking just the tiniest bit. "I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re so… so good to me."

He was utterly lost in your words, his gaze unfocused and dazed, the sheer depth of his emotions cracking through the careful control he tried to maintain.

You pouted, your tone softening further, almost as if you were the one being manipulated. "I’m sorry if I’m being a burden… but I just—"

"Never," he interrupted, his voice fierce. His hands slid down to hold yours, his grip firm but trembling. "You’re never a burden. Never say that again."

Your lips curled into a small, trembling smile, and you nodded.

"I only trust you," you whispered.

Sol pressed his hand over his heart, his voice soft but firm, he swore an oath, "Let me repay your kindness, Y/n... Let me take care of you."

For a moment, you thought he was about to declare his love for you, the words hanging heavy in the air, but his gaze shifted—soft and sincere, yet with a dark undertone that made your heart race. The way he said it, with such quiet conviction, made your insides twist with longing.

You opened your mouth, ready to dismiss the idea—I don’t need you to cook for me, you were about to say, but before you could, your stomach betrayed you.

It rumbled loudly, echoing in the quiet room. Your face immediately flushed with embarrassment, and you quickly raised your hands to your cheeks, hiding the red tint creeping up your skin.

Sol's eyes softened immediately, his lips curling into a smile as he gently reached for your hands, pulling them away from your face. His expression was so gentle, yet his eyes gleamed with that possessive, dark affection you knew all too well.

"Don't hide yourself from me, Y/n," he murmured, his voice low and tender as he gazed at you with that intoxicating intensity. "You don't have to be ashamed... you're perfect." His words hung in the air, thick with affection and something far deeper, a touch of madness lurking beneath the surface.

You couldn’t look away from his face, the overwhelming wave of love and obsession clouding your thoughts. Your heart hammered in your chest as your stomach growled once more, and you instinctively reached out to clutch your face, like you were posing in the way you’d seen in shows, but this was real, and he was here.

"Sol..." you whispered, your voice trembling slightly, "No cooking. You don’t have to do that."

But he didn’t listen. He wasn’t the type to back down when he had a plan.

He pouted, a playful, childlike expression crossing his features, and it made him look even more endearing—if that was even possible. "I want to, Y/n," he said softly, his voice now a low, adoring murmur. "Let me take care of you... let me make you happy."

His words, so sincere and desperate, sent a shiver through you.

With a final, tender glance at you, Sol turned and walked toward the kitchen. Each step he took seemed deliberate, as though he was placing himself further and further into your world, making himself indispensable.

You stood frozen, your eyes wide and heart heavy with a mixture of longing and something darker—an obsession of your own that mirrored his.

You blinked at Sol's grumpy face, his pout so endearing it nearly made you want to melt. He crossed his arms in that way that made him look both cute and frustratingly determined. "Alright, fine, I’ll cook for you."

He still looked a little upset, but his eyes softened slightly when you said it. "Okay," he mumbled, a slight pout still lingering on his lips. You smiled inwardly at how adorable he was when he tried to act tough, especially for you.

You both moved toward the kitchen, and you asked softly, "Anything you like? I can make whatever you want…"

Sol thought for a moment, his eyes flicking away, as if he were deliberating. Then, with a whisper barely audible, he said, "As long as it’s from you, Y/n…"

Your heart skipped a beat. His words were a quiet confession wrapped in a thread of possessiveness that sent a thrill through you. As long as it’s from me, he wanted nothing more than something made by your hands. The thought of him depending on you, wanting you in this way, made the dark thoughts swirl in your mind.

You felt the weight of the moment, suddenly aware of the kitchen, of what you were about to do. You hadn’t cooked for anyone before. Your mind raced as you stood in front of the sink. What the hell am I doing?

You were never the type to entertain guests. You were just a lonely little thing, someone who spent their time sketching, daydreaming, and obsessing over people like Sol. Did he really want this? Did he really want me to cook for him?

You felt the panic rising in your chest, but before you could overthink it any further, Sol stood up from the table, his movements casual but with a focused intensity. He began inspecting the cupboards, muttering under his breath.

"Your cupboards are pretty empty," he said, his tone casual but with a hint of concern. "No groceries?"

You shrugged slightly, not wanting to go into details. No groceries… no one to buy them for. "I’ve been busy," you said, your voice trailing off. You didn’t mention how you had been busy sketching his face, obsessing over him, imagining every detail of his being.

Sol gave you a questioning glance, but then he let it slide. His eyes scanned the shelves again, and then his gaze softened when he reached for something in the back.

"Not completely empty," he said with a small, amused smile. He pulled out a box of curry powder and handed it to you. "Here. You can use this."

Your heart fluttered, but it wasn’t just the fact that he had given you something to cook with—it was that he knew you hide that curry where exactly.

IM so sorry for dividing this next part will be last!

also, yes if it's not clear by now, Reader only likes his obsession on them than himself </3 i guess the talk abt crowe already made it clear

until next time

-ellie <3

[under-lore]

How does Sans feel about Papyrus' death ?

A lot of common Undertale-related debates revolve around the morality of a character.

But among these, the one about Sans' reaction to Papyrus' death somewhat stands out. Both because of how widespread it is, but also because of the way two opposite yet equally inaccurate interpretations of it repeatedly seem to clash against one another.

So let's take a look at how Sans actually behaves in Undertale after his brother is killed :

First, we can observe a number of changes in his behavior, showcasing that he is not unaffected by it.

To start with an obvious one, the fact that nearly all of Sans' other casual appearances during that playthrough will be gone, Sans just... doesn't show up.

No pranks with telescopes, no stacking 29 hotdogs on your head.

While one flavor text with Shyren mentions that he is still 'watching over us' in some form even then due to his promise, he is evidently not as thrilled about this as usual.

But his lack of enthusiasm when it comes to watching over Frisk isn't the only thing that changes.

For instance, there is a present for Papyrus under the tree in Snowdin. However, as soon as Papyrus is killed and Sans vanishes, the present disappears along with him. Implying that Sans has retrieved the gift that his brother will not be able to open anymore.

He also appears to not have gone to Grillby's after our passage in Snowdin this time around. Something that's apparently quite unusual for him as it is part of his routine for that time of day.

And of course, in some iterations of his judgement scene in neutral routes :

...Needless to say that claiming Sans is totally unaffected by the death of his brother is inaccurate. While we do not see much of it, it is fairly solidly implied that Sans does grief his brother at least in his own way. And he does hold it against us to an extent.

However, that isn't all there is to it.

Sans' knowledge of RESETs does play a role in the way he handles the situation. Just not quite in the way it is often portrayed.

First, Sans may be aware of resets, but he does not remember them. This means that for a given Sans, the loss of his brother still feels permanent for that particular timeline iteration's Sans.

Knowing his brother will probably be alive again in another timeline eventually doesn't mean his loss in this one isn't real. Even if it does happen, he will not be there to see it. At least not this version of him.

However, Sans does still have a couple tricks up his sleeve, that maybe, if things work out, could spare of that fate the other Sans'es.

I showed this line earlier on :

However, this line isn't just Sans showing us his feelings about our actions. Instead, it is a part of a much more tricky strategy Sans begins engaging in after Papyrus is killed :

Psychological warfare.

The anomaly has reset this world many times before, and in neutral routes, he is left with the impression that it will likely do so again. This thought had previously been a demotivating one for Sans as he explained in genocide.

This was the case whilst Sans lived a semi-regular life under the constant threat of everything being undone on the snap of a finger.

However, now that what Sans incorrectly believes to be the anomaly has revealed itself and killed his brother, the situation has actually somewhat changed.

A reset, while it would wipe out his memories, would still bring his brother back to a different Sans. Papyrus' death doesn't have to be truly permanent. Because of this, Sans now wants the anomaly to reset. Not to keep doing it forever, but at least just one more time, to make sure that this timeline won't be the one that'll end up sticking around for good.

He also has a secondary motive :

While he is at it, he might also try to get the anomaly to changes its ways. Of course, Sans knows he's not a time traveller, not a god, but just a guy who is probably not capable of forcing a being such as the anomaly to change.

That being said, maybe, just maybe, he could help in giving it a little push to make it decide to want to change on its own.

To incite a RESET to happen, Sans has one main strategy : Making the anomaly regret its actions.

Sans believes that the anomaly keeps on RESETing the world because it is unable to find fulfillment, and that it keeps consuming timelines out of a desire to find happiness one way or another.

Thus, Sans aims to make the anomaly feel like this timeline can't be what they were looking for. Ensuring that, for the anomaly's quest for happiness to continue, they will have no choice but to reset this timeline as well.

That is the reason why Sans asks us this question :

The question was very carefully chosen on his part.

It both serves to confirm the anomaly's identity, but also more importantly, no matter what they answer, it allows him to either point out that the anomaly's actions did not match with their own morals, or forces them into making a selfish confession which he can then use to make them feel like they've done the wrong thing.

In either case, Sans is able to present his brother's death as an event that would only bring the anomaly further unhappiness. And thus, might get the anomaly to reach by itself the conclusion that the only way for it to find happiness now would be to RESET this world once more and avoiding killing Papyrus again in the future. A pretty good outcome for Sans.

This is what he refers to as taking it the 'easy way' to deal with an aggressive anomaly in a few routes. (as opposed to the 'hard way' he mentions halfway through his genocide dialogue).

In the neutral endings in which Papyrus was slain, Sans once again attempts a similar strategy. Although the awareness that a RESET still hasn't taken place even after quite some time passed since the anomaly was last seen in the underground & his last attempt at it is likely quite worrying to him.

This leads him to be a little more blunt than last time when it comes to the ways he tries to make the anomaly feel like this timeline isn't the one. Although his approach method remains broadly the same.

Though these lines are still rather noteworthy :

Given Sans wants the anomaly to go back, they might sound odd to hear at first.

It turns out that the more brutal we have been throughout the run, the less optimistic Sans' approach to dealing with the anomaly becomes during the phone call.

Here, Sans might be trying to play on another bleaker aspect of his psychological profiling of the anomaly : The consideration that they may view the world as a kind of game to explore, in which if they 'can', then they 'have to'.

By saying it is not welcome down here, he is also saying that it won't be able to keep exploring the possibilities of this world unless it makes them all forget everything.

In another of the neutral endings where both Toriel and Papyrus are killed, Sans seems to begin to doubt wether the anomaly can really be redeemed after all.

This all ultimately culminates in the leaderless endings.

In this one, Sans acknowledges that this is likely not our first time hearing him saying those kinds of things over the phone.

And that his 'strategy' seems to have failed to push it towards the right path.

In this route, Sans appears to have reached a similar conclusion as in the genocide one, that his hope of a redeemable anomaly merely looking for happiness may have been just naive/wishful thinking on his part after all.

In sum, Sans' awareness of the RESETs does not prevent him from missing his brother if Papyrus is killed. However, it allows him to weaponise his own grief using the psychological profile he has made of the anomaly in order to attempt to push it to RESET. Although he knows his own memories would be wiped out if he is successful, it would ensure Papyrus' death isn't permanent. Depending on the run, he also still harbors a dwindling hope that the anomaly itself could be steered towards a better path.

He mostly just needs to convince them to RESET one way or another though.

Past that point, it'll be up to the other Sans'es.

[nightbeforethend]

i wished for you // choi jongho

a/n: meant to write a little something for Jongho's birthday and wouldn't you know it, I forgot every time I thought about it. I wrote this sappy shit while taking one of the longest baths of my life today so enjoy!

genre: fluff

word count: 848

warnings: none really outside of the mention of alcohol/being drunk? a little lovesick bullshit here?? a little self-indulgent fluff there???

———————————————————————————

It wasn’t uncommon for you to return home from work to find a voicemail from Jongho waiting for you. In fact, the two of you had been engaged in a playful game of voicemail tag for the past week and a half, navigating the challenges of time differences and your hectic schedules. Yet, even though you would have preferred to hear his voice directly, there was something comforting about receiving those little snippets of him—like a sweet surprise at the end of a long, dreary day.

Most of his voicemails were usually straightforward—brief updates about his day, questions about yours, the usual exchanges that kept you connected across the miles. But tonight’s voicemail was much different.

“Ok, so I know we just got to the point of saying ‘I love you’ recently,” he began, a playful tone to his voice as though he was already aware of how this might sound. "So I hope this doesn’t freak you out, but I’m a weeeee bit drunk." You could picture him grinning sheepishly, the way he always did when he was nervous or about to say something he thought might make you laugh. He continued, “And when the guys had me blow out the candles on my cake tonight, I wished for you."

You paused when you heard those words. "I wished for you." It sounded so simple, but it carried a weight you weren’t expecting. He already had you—what more could he wish for? The thought lingered for a moment before he quickly clarified, his tone a little softer now, a touch more serious.

"Not like... I didn't actually wish FOR you. I already have you, duh." You couldn’t help but smile at that, imagining the playful roll of his eyes as he said it. "But I wished for you to always be with me, which is so stupid because I know you could never just drop everything and run around the world with me." His voice dipped slightly, as if he was wrestling with the reality of the situation, acknowledging how far-fetched his wish really was. And yet, there was something so genuine about the way he said it, something so heartfelt that it made your chest tighten.

He paused for a moment, as though he was trying to gather his thoughts or maybe second-guessing whether he should keep going, but then he pushed on. “But still, I wished that by some miracle we could just be alone together for the rest of our lives.”

That’s when the weight of his words really sank in. He wasn’t just talking about wanting you by his side during the fun, easy moments. He was talking about the kind of deep, unwavering connection where nothing—no job, no obligation, no distance—could ever come between you. It was the kind of wish you made when you’re so completely in love with someone that you can’t imagine a life without them.

In his slightly tipsy, vulnerable state, he was letting you in on something raw and real: the dream of having you all to himself, of being able to live in a world where it was just the two of you, free from the chaos of everyday life. It was the kind of wish that, while impossible, was filled with so much love and longing that it made your heart ache a little. He knew it wasn’t realistic—he even said so—but that didn’t stop him from wishing for it anyway. There was something achingly romantic about that.

Then came the part that made you smile the most: “Did that make sense?” You could practically hear him blushing on the other end of the line, embarrassed by how open he had just been, how he had let his guard down completely. And before you could even process everything he’d said, he wrapped it up with a quick, “It’s ok, love you, goodnight,” like he needed to get the last few words out before his courage faded.

That voicemail—just a simple, drunken message—felt like you were getting to peek through a window that lead straight to his heart. It wasn’t just about the words “I love you” that you’d both recently started saying; it was about the kind of love that made him wish, without hesitation, that you could always be together. His wish wasn’t about material things or fleeting moments. It was about living a life where it was just the two of you, lost in your own little world.

Sure, he laughed it off a bit, tried to make it seem like it was no big deal, but you knew better. There was something so sincere, so deeply affectionate in his words that you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell as you listened. It wasn’t just the alcohol talking—this was him, unfiltered, admitting that he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it, and wishing that somehow, you’d never have to be apart.

No matter what, you were determined to make his birthday wish a reality. After all, it was your wish too, and you’d tell him that as soon as his hangover subsided the next day.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Interruption | Part 01.

-> Pairing: mafia!Kim Hongjoong x wife!Reader

-> Requested by: no one

-> Sypnosis: It's their anniversary night and business is the last thing on their mind when they're interrupted by someone smart enough to get through their security but not smart enough to realize who he's dealing with.

-> Warnings: mafia au. Mentions of debt, estranged father/daughter relationship, divorce, gangs, borrowing money from the wrong people. Gun. death threats. hints at murder.

-> Word Count: 1,424

->Taglist: open. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the taglist form.

Interruption Masterlist | Hongjoong Masterlist | Tag List Form

Hongjoong stands at the entrance of his family’s mansion, eagerly awaiting his wife as she finishes getting ready for their dinner reservations at the new upscale restaurant that just opened a few weeks ago. His parents have been singing its praises, insisting it was the ideal spot for their anniversary celebration. To ensure they would be alone and uninterrupted, he had reserved the entire venue for the evening.  

As he loosens his tie, contemplating whether to keep it on or not, the front door swings open, and his trusted right-hand-man, Park Seonghwa, steps inside. The expression on Seonghwa’s face conveys everything Hongjoong needs to know.  

He shakes his head, holding up his hand before Seonghwa can utter a word. “Not tonight, Hwa,” he tells him, not wanting to engage with whatever issue has arisen, while checking his reflection in the entrance mirror. Initially, he thought Y/N's idea of placing a mirror by the front door was absurd, but now he finds himself using it just as often as she does. “I assured Y/N there would be no interruptions or business tonight.”  

"I understand, but—" Seonghwa starts, only to be interrupted as Jongho, their head of security, and San drag in a man Hongjoong has never seen before. 

"I need to speak to your boss!" the man shouts, his voice echoing. "Let me talk to him!" he demands as he is thrown to the ground in front of Hongjoong.  

"Of all nights," Hongjoong mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes in frustration at the unexpected disruption. 

“Are you the boss?” the man asks as he scrambles to his feet, his confidence lowering as he takes in Hongjoong, gulping at the intimidating piercing look in the younger man’s eyes. 

“That would be me,” a woman's voice responds from behind Hongjoong as she descends the stairs. The man looks past Hongjoong, locking eyes with Y/N, who is elegantly dressed in a red, floor-length spaghetti strap dress, with her hair and make-up done to match her attire perfectly. Seonghwa, San, and Jongho bow slightly in respect as she makes her entrance. As she reaches her husband, his arm wraps around her waist and pulls her close, a protective gesture that speaks volumes about their bond.  

The atmosphere shifts, tension hanging thick in the air as the man’s bravado crumbles further under the weight of Y/N’s presence. Her presence was more intimidating than Hongjoongs.  

“Who do you think you are, barging in here like this?” Y/N’s voice is calm yet laced with authority, her eyes narrow as she looks at the strange man that intruded on her night and her home.  

The man stammers, caught off guard. “I... I just wanted to discuss a business matter,” he stutters, his voice now a mere whisper. “I thought-” 

“You thought what?” Hongjoong interjects, his tone sharp. “That you could make it past our security, demand to speak with us and that we’ll have a nice civil conversation?” 

“I... I...” he continues to stammer. 

“You’re lucky they didn’t shoot you as soon as they saw you,” Y/N adds.  

“We can still do it,” Jongho interjects, reaching for the gun he has holstered to his chest.  

Y/N holds up a hand, stopping Jongho, her eyes still trained on the blubbering man. “We might as well hear him out since he went to all this trouble.” 

“We have a reservation to get to, Darling,” Hongjoong reminds her and presses a kiss to her shoulder, a gesture meant to calm the growing raging storm he knows is brewing inside her. “We can put him in a room and deal with this when we get back.” 

“I would rather deal with this now,” she says. “After all, you did promise to do that thing that I like when we get back. I don’t want anything to get in the way of that,” she reminds him this time. “Seonghwa, call the restaurant and tell them we’re going to be a little late.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” the right-hand man bows before leaving the room.  

Y/N turns her full attention back to the man standing in front of her. "Now, start talking," she commands him, her tone leaving no room for defiance. "Before I reconsider and have one or both of the Mr. Choi’s put a pretty little bullet in your head.”  

“Th-there’s a gang that won’t leave my business alone,” he starts, visibly shaking as the threat hangs in the air. “Th-They keep harassing me, scaring off customers, breaking anything that they can get their hands on.” 

"No wife? No kids? Parents?" Hongjoong inquires, his gaze fixed on Y/N, anticipating her next move.  

"Divorced with one daughter," he responds. "Neither of them wants anything to do with me."  

"Why is that?" she questions, studying the man again, recalling her own past before meeting Hongjoong.  

Taking a closer look at him – desperate, middle-aged, clothes tattered and worn, relying on others to get him out of his own messes and overall, not a good person considering he’s tried to break into a well-known mafia house. He reminds her of her own father. A pathetic excuse for a husband and father and a man. She hasn’t heard his story and yet feels no pity for him. 

She feels Hongjoongs arm around her waist tightening knowing that estranged father-daughter relationships are a sensitive topic for her. 

It stirs up emotions she thought she had buried long ago.  

He swallows hard, his eyes darting to the floor. “I… I quit my job a few years back. It was a good job, but I wasn’t happy. None of us were. I tried to start my own business shortly after, but it’s been a disaster. My wife couldn’t take it anymore, and she left. My daughter… she blames me for everything. I haven’t seen her in years.” 

Y/N scoffs as the man searches for sympathy and understanding, but all she can think about is the pain of her own childhood, the nights spent waiting for a father who never came home when he promised to be there on top of all the heinous things that happened because of his absence.  

“The truth, Mr. I don’t know your name,” she says looking right through the shortened version of his sad life.  

“Mr. Mun,” he tells her. “Mun Dal Su.” 

“I don’t care,” she snaps at him. “I want the truth Mr. Mun. Why is this gang targeting you? I have a feeling it has to do with why your daughter hates you and your wife left you.” 

“I needed money,” he admits. “I borrowed some and haven’t been able to pay it back.” 

“And there we have it,” Hongjoong speaks. “Come on love, let's wrap this up so we can go have dinner.” He glances at Y/N, a silent reminder that they have more pressing matters to attend to.  

Y/N narrows her eyes at Mr. Mun, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “You think this is just about money? Do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into? How do you think coming to us will make it any better.”  

Mr. Mun’s shoulders slump, the fight leaving him as he realizes the gravity of his situation. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I thought I could manage it, but they don’t take kindly to late payments.” 

“No shit,” Hongjoong speaks up again. "Come on, Love. It's time to go," he turns to Jongho and San as he lets go of Y/N's waist. "Get him out of here," he tells them and moves to grab Y/N's coat. 

"You know what to do," Y/N tells Jongho as Hongjoong helps her into her coat.  

The two nod before bowing and grabbing Mr. Mun by his arms. The middle-aged man looks around the room panicked and starts to struggle against the two security personal.  

"Oh Mr. Mun, you won't have to worry about paying back those gangster's anymore," Y/N tells him as Jongho and San pull him from the house kicking and screaming. She turns to Seonghwa who just re-entered the room. "Can you ask Wooyoung and Yunho if they can look into Mun Dal Su and see if Yeosang can track down his family." 

"Of course," he nods. "Now, go and enjoy your evening. I promise no more disruptions." 

With that, Y/N turns her attention back to her husband. "I'm ready when you are," she says, a gentle smile gracing her face. 

He returns her smile, bringing her in for a soft kiss before linking their arms together and leading her out to the car waiting for them. 

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Private Chef! Joel thots

ok so I've had this idea lingering for a while now, and the SAG outfit has just FUELLEDDD more of my thots!!!

Side note: (He has never looked sexier, how dare he age this well; how am I supposed to go on with my life; this is absolutely not fair)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!plus size! reader

Warnings: smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller, 18+ only, minors DNI

Sharing a smallish drabble/thotty abstract, if you will:

Ok, so maybe Joel has joined your family as your private chef. After all, your parents are SUPER rich, so they might as well look and feel the part.

You had to admit, he was worth every penny your mother was paying him. Not to mention he was easy going on the eyes, which made your mother glad; she would parade him around her lavish parties to the "cougars"/bored rich housewives, something which made your eyes roll.

Little did they know that the ever so charming Joel was a FREAK with a capital "F" in the sack.

You honestly don't even remember how it happened. A few conversations here and there, he had offered to teach you how to cook and bake; and those lessons were often plagued by thoughts of him bending you over and having his way with you, leaving you throbbing and wanting. If you didn't know any better, you could tell that it was affecting him too. His voice got huskier, eyes darkening every time he looked your way. It was a game of chicken, almost, how long either of you could keep the distance before the inevitable damn bursting.

You had once gone to "ask" him "a cooking doubt", and saw quite a sight indeed. Gone was the prim and proper Joel, with his neatly ironed and clean apron and immaculate dress shirts. His curly hair was mussed up, his shirt slightly untucked and his top buttons undone; he seemed to be engrossed in a video, hie eyebrows scrunched together as his fingers kneaded some dough, prepping for tomorrow's party. It was honestly like porn, the way his strong arms kneaded the dough, his thick fingers making you nearly drool. It took all your strength to walk away from there before you embarrassed yourself and begged him to throw you to the ground and pound you into the ground, no matter how desperate that sounded.

And it had happened finally. Another one of your parents' shindigs, and you found yourself bored out of your mind, only half listening to one of your mom's friend's son, whose one semester in London had "like, totally changed his life." Excusing yourself, you made your way to the kitchen, topping off your drink.

You saw him there, again, making small talk with Angela, one of your mom's friends who just wouldn't take a hint. You'd never seen Joel this tense and yet Angela seemed oblivious, throwing herself at him, her screeching laugh loud enough to wake the dead.

You took pity on the man and made up an excuse on his behalf, beckoning him to join you, picking up a few wedges of limes on the way, an idea forming in your mind. He bid Angela goodbye, hurriedly following you before she engaged any further.

"...Whyyy are we going to your room?" He asked bewildered, hesistant as he stood at the threshold.

You shrugged, "figured you could use a proper drink, not the shit downstairs." Taking out two shotglasses, you handed him a rather large shot of Hendricks, your drink of choice to get "classy-drunk".

You toast, downing the smooth liquid as it left a slight burn. Wincing, you pour another, his eyes widening at the pour.

"I'm technically on duty."

"And i'm technically meant to like all the guys my mom has shown me, but life doesn't work that way, does it?" You quipped, clearly goading him.

One shot turned to two. Two to four. The party was long forgotten, the both of you pleasantly tipsy and unguarded. For the first time, it felt like Joel was opening up to you.

"If I didn't know any better, i'd say you were planning on getting me drunk, sweetheart." He drawled.

You smirked. Making your way towards him, you poured another shot, promising him it that it was the last one, and that he could go back to his job. He chuckled, knowing that he would a tough time walking to the kitchen, let alone serving the guests. Lucky that the crew took over for the rest of the night, huh?

Wincing, Joel blindly searched for the wedge of lime to soothe the burn. Opening his eyes, he saw your cheeky grin as you held the lime between your lips, challenging him to take the next step.

He nearly growled as he shuffled closer, your faces mere inches from one another. His fingers ghosted over your lips as he inched closer, his lips tasting the juice of the lime. Plucking the wedge from your lips, his mouth was on yours, urging you to open up for him. You groaned, tasting the citrusy hints of the gin along with the slight tang of the lime, your tongues weaving an intricate dance.

While the party downstairs was loud and had taken a rather raucous turn, up in your room, the only noise you could hear was the sound of harsh grunts and panting breaths.

When your mom had first hired Joel, you didn't understand exactly why she did so, because the chef you'd had earlier was perfectly fine. Now, you couldn't thank her enough for hiring him.

Joel had you pinned to your bedroom door, as he ate you out enthusiastically. Pulling your thigh on his shoulder, he doubled down on his efforts to get you to come undone. Running your fingers through his beautiful curls, you tugged on them as his wonderful tongue worked its magic on your swollen nub. He hummed, circling his finger around your center, urging you on.

Pulling your other leg on his shoulder, he moved to pick you up. You were uncertain about this, but he was insistant, picking you up like you weighed nothing at all. He didn't stop his ministrations as he dropped you on her bed, continuing his amorous assault.

This display of strength had you clenching and reaching your end in no time, as you moaned loudly, yanking on his curls to ground yourself.

"Oh baby, keep doing that, don't stop." He moaned, as he made his way up your body, leaving small kisses and nips along your thighs, your belly. He reached your breasts, taking a swollen nub in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically.

Looking down, you saw one of the most erotic sights ever. Joel worshipping you, his curls a wild mess, his pristine white shirt damp with your release and with a few buttons undone, coming untucked out of his tight black pants.

You groaned. You needed him so badly it practically hurt. Reaching down, you palmed him through his pants, as he thrust himself into your wandering hands.

Pulling his erect length out of his pants, you panted as you worked him over, stroking him as he moved his hips in tandem with your hands. His harsh breaths as he groaned and grunted through gritted teeth turned you on like nothing else.

"I'm close, sweetheart." He managed to blurt out, as you increased the speed of your strokes, tongue moving along his already sensitive head. He pulled his length from your grasp as he worked himself to his climax, yelling out and cursing as he came all over your breasts.

You were mildly disappointed that he held back from fucking you; hell, you were sure he was going to finally take that step and put you through the mattress.

"Joel, I need you. Please." You begged, the need to feel him fill you up dangerously high. You sounded pathetic, sure, but you were beyond caring at this point.

Joel smirked, catching his breath.

"I have to get back sweetheart. Your mom would kill me if she didn't see me in the kitchen."

You couldn't hide your frown as you watched him neaten up, running a hair through his curls. Joel leaving you high and dry was not how you saw your plan panning out. He was about to leave as he turned back, made his way to you, holding your chin between his fingers.

"But I promise you, this isn't over. Not by a long shot." He breathed against your lips, leaving a small peck as he left, leaving you weak and wanting for more.

Silently seething, you began to plot your next steps. Joel Miller wouldn't know what hit him.

Oh no i don't like it i don't think this is my best work but omg it's out there *runs and hides in a corner*

Will there be a part 2?? That's a great question. Honestly i think i could've done better so maybe i have a redemption arc as well lolol, who knows atp