#i started this a while back and then never finished it

[pedgito]

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 | Cowboy!Joel Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Through all of his supposed wrong-doing, Joel has never failed you. Alternatively, falling in love with your dad's enemy while he shows you your full potential.

author's note | this is for @kedsandtubesocks's wild ride writing challenge! i struggled with this for a while, but ultimately erika and @hauntedhowlett helped me settle on something after sitting on the struggle bus for longer than i liked. this is all unbeta'd so please go easy on me dsjhkg

content warning | 18+ MDNI, no outbreak au, rodeo cowboy!joel, dbf but they're rivals now, forbidden love, hefty age gap (early 20s, late 40s), daddy issues, switches between present/flashbacks (all titled to differentiate), joel strolling around shirtless in a cowboy hat, mentions of injuries from riding, angst/internal conflict, fluff, smut (inappropriate use of a barstool), joel's such a loverboy

word count — 7.5k

Austin, Texas — Present Day: 

The energy in the stadium is inconceivable.

Austin always had amazing crowds during rodeo season, especially with such a close-knit community of people supporting a passion many have attempted to pursue. For you, it was in your blood, riding on the coattails of your father, you were saddled on a horse before you could even speak full sentences.

You can hear the deep, roaring chants as you stand steadily in the waiting pen, eyes locked on the television as the words echo in your ear, a faint smile growing on your face as you feel the solid press of his hand against your back.

 Joel.

It was a year of tireless dedication to get you back on a horse, somehow managing to entangle yourself in his grasp in more ways than you can explain—he wasn’t just a partner, he was your lover, a confidant, and the only person that could ease the quickly growing nerves.

“Like ridin’ a bike,” He says with an ease that comes natural to his voice, hand climbing up to settle against the back of your neck with a reassuring squeeze, “what’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

“What if she gets startled?” You ask absently, the accident flashing through your mind in snapshots, the subtle twinge of pain in your knee that came and went when it felt like it.

“All she needs is you,” Joel reminds you, “s’never been a time I’ve seen her freak out when she’s got you on her back and you know it.”

Honey had been with you since you were a young girl, a trust built through years of connection and care, having practiced the art of non-verbal communication, you knew there was nothing to worry about, but the fear still lingered.

Joel’s Ranch, One Year Ago — Flashback:

Joel can see the way your hands shake, attempting to grasp the reins a few times with a clammy grip, over-adjusting yourself on the horse he’s ridden for many years, even into retirement. Buttercup was docile but strong and he’s attentive to Joel’s instruction, a rub over his snout as he attempted to reassure you.

It was your first time back on a horse since your accident, months of recuperating on Joel’s ranch with the help of him and his brother Tommy, working through doctor’s visits and physical therapy alongside two men who weren’t your father, but had filled the hole enough that you didn’t have to suffer through your injury alone.

“We’re just doing a few laps and getting a feel on things,” Joel reminds you, “I’m not pushin’ you and I’m not gonna let you push it too soon—what’s your number today?”

You bend and stretch your leg hesitantly, a subtle movement as Joel’s hand rests just above the thick band of your jeans, your face contorting in slight discomfort.

“Five…six,” You say indecisively, looking down at Joel.

“So, an eight,” He surmises with a smile, “alright—just a few laps and we’ll work from there.”

It was a step forward, fearful that you might never ride again. 

But, Joel follows you around the ring from start to finish.

He promised in the beginning that he wouldn’t leave your side and he hasn’t lied once.

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

While dressage started their run, you and Joel slipped off into a dressing room to watch the show and deal with the insistence from Joel that you shouldn’t ride on an empty stomach.

You picked at the food sparingly though, still feeling rattled by the energy in the arena.

Joel’s presence comes from behind, palms spread over the arms of your chair as he leans his chest into your back, lips brushing against your ear in an endearing manner, a ghost of his breath against the side of your face as he presses a gentle kiss against your neck.

"Hey," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "You're going to be amazing out there, baby. I believe in you."

You lean back into his warmth, letting out a shaky breath. His arms encircle you, strong and comforting. "I'm just so nervous," you whisper.

Joel turns your face with his fingers at your chin. His eyes, filled with tenderness, meet yours. 

"Remember why you started riding in the first place? That freedom? The connection?"

You nod and his hand flattens against the side of your neck and you tilt your chin up expectantly, eager for a kiss that never comes, instead he chuckles and placates you with another kiss to your cheek.

“No distractions,” He chastises, “I meant that.”

You pout for a brief moment but relent, knowing that you needed a clear head and Joel would give you anything but with how easily he’s clouded your thoughts in the past several months.

Joel’s Ranch, Six Months Ago — Flashback:

When it happens, you aren’t expecting it.

Neither is Joel, which makes the entire situation unfold faster than you’re capable of processing.

The storm rolled in without warning, the wind picking up like someone had flipped a switch. 

But, the lighting strikes unexpectedly from the right and downfield with not a drop of rain in sight.

It startles everyone, but especially Buttercup, Joel’s horse. It was quick buck, with Joel’s hands on your waist luckily, so the decent is smooth but the impact isn’t as graceful as you would have liked while Joel’s horses thrashes wildly until he can calm him down, moving you a safe distance away before he can eventually get Buttercup tucked away in the stables and return to you, jogging toward you as the rain began to mist.

As Joel approaches, his eyes lock with yours, concern etched across his features. 

The misting rain clings to his cheeks, making them glisten in the fading light. He reaches out, his calloused hands gently cupping your face. Thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with worry.

You nod, unable to speak as you realize how close he is. 

It’s never been like this, even in the moments of physical therapy and joint dinners with him and his brother—Joel had always been careful about being respectful and keeping his distance.

Joel was prominent in your childhood, weekend dinners with him and his daughters after the death of your mother—it was all a blur now, most of it buried away and forgotten. But, there was an eventual blow-up with your father and then he was gone. 

You’d see him on television and around town when shows were happening and he had a break from his extensive tour through different states, having turned his professional career into entertainment both out of a need for change and necessity.

He constantly remained out of reach, but with your injury and his willingness to yield to you when you needed someone in your life the most, he had stepped in. It made you feel like that little girl again, scraping your knee on the ground and crying for help, but instead of your dad it was Joel and the floating feeling in your stomach wasn’t because he was comforting you, but because he was touching you and neither of you had the courage to speak on it.

He’s never touched you like this. He wouldn’t. 

Joel’s always been careful—too careful.

"I'm fine," you assure him, but your voice trembles slightly. Joel kneels closer, his warmth enveloping you despite the cool rain. His hands find your shoulders, steadying you, “Joel—I swear, I’m okay.”

“M’so sorry, sweetheart,” He apologises despite no wrongdoing, “I should’ve checked the weather or at least held on a little tighter,”

You look up into his eyes, seeing the genuine worry there, and something else – something that makes your heart flutter in your chest. "It's not your fault," You insist, blinking away the rain from your lashes before Joel is helping you to your feet, his touch never once leaving your body.

The rain is falling harder now, but neither of you can find the urgency to move.

Joel's hands slide down your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your breath catches in your throat, coming out in a desperate attempt to clear the swell as you make a small, weak noise that seems to break him from his trance.

“Let’s get you dry,” He nods toward the house, grateful for the deflection as you turn, but his hand is still pressed firmly against your back as you both walk toward the door, like he’s too scared to let go - like you were too fragile to leave on your own.

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

Honey nuzzles into your chest before nibbling at the apple in your palm, always rigid about the time you spent with her before your shows, a moment of quiet and connection that strengthens the bond.

She was full of personality, leaning into the gentle touch you apply to her snout as you rub your hand up and into her mane, a small push into your ribs as she hears Joel approach.

Your heart swells with affection as you lean into Honey's warmth, savoring the sweet moment. 

Joel's footsteps draw near, but you're reluctant to break the spell. 

You press a soft kiss to Honey's velvety nose, whispering words of love and gratitude. As Joel appears, his eyes meet yours and a tender smile spreads across his face. He understands the depth of your connection with Honey, having witnessed your bond grow over countless shows and quiet moments like this. Even when you were much younger and Honey was twice the size she is now.

Your father had purchased her when Joel was meeting Buttercup, how the girls had hounded him over the responsibility to name his horse. He wouldn’t admit how much he liked it, either.

"You two are inseparable," he murmurs, stepping closer. His hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers as you both stroke Honey's mane, "I swear, sometimes I think you love that horse more than me."

You laugh, giving your horse one last pat before turning to Joel. "Are you jealous?" 

Your head tilts, eyes as wide and vulnerable as they always were with him.

“Not when you look at me like that,” Joel explains, his hand cupping your chin as his thumb rubs against the point of it, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards as Joel mirrors that same admiration, a playful glint in his eyes as you pucker your lips and kiss his thumb, keeping your eyes on him, “boy, you are really pushin’ it today.”

It was silly to think about now, but a few months prior Joel wouldn’t even allow himself to touch you like this, despite the clear indication of how you felt and how he had ultimately fallen first, too scared to admit that he’d fallen for his old friend’s daughter, knowing your father despised everything that Joel was, it was a maze he didn’t know how to navigate.

He still felt lost on most days.

Joel’s Ranch, Five Months Ago — Flashback:

Mornings were sacred on Joel’s ranch - a beautiful sunrise etched out over the hills and through the trees, animals rousing from their sleep, and a silence that reminded you of a simpler time.

Usually you found Joel up this early, nursing a mug of coffee in his hands as rocked in the old chair on his porch, eventually finding the courage to join him after a while, when it didn’t hurt to bend down to his level, taking a seat on the deck near his legs and sipping at your own drink of choice, talking through your pain level on whatever particular day it was.

Your fondness has grown over shared meals and proximity; seclusion, too.

It was you and him, months alone aside from Tommy’s occasional visit.

Maybe it was inevitable—that your injury served a purpose.

You always tried to find a reason to excuse your own mistake, a moment of hesitation that cost you an entire year of your newfound career, excitedly filling in for Joel in his departure. 

It couldn’t have been for nothing.

You felt her heart skip a beat as his footsteps approached, his gaze warm as it descended upon you, peering over your shoulder to be met with a tired smile.

The morning sunlight caught the silver in his hair, and you found herself admiring the lines around his eyes - evidence of a life filled with both laughter and hardship.

"Good mornin’," Joel's voice was a low rumble, softened by the early hour, “something botherin’ you?”

“Why do you ask?” You chirp with a soft laugh, narrowing your gaze in a manner to intimidate. 

Joel smirks half-heartedly, “It’s a good place to think,” He notes, “so—what is it?”

“Can I ask about my dad?” You start hesitantly, not sure how sore of a subject it was for him.

“Whaddya wanna know, sugar?”

“I want your side,” You wanted honesty, not half-truths, “did you cut him out of the deal?”

“He cut himself out,” Joel explains without skipping a beat, “we were partners for a long time, couldn’t have imagined doin’ all I did without him before he turned on me, but it was good money, security—it put Ellie and Sarah through college.

“He’s a sell-out,” If there was any time for your father to disparage Joel Miller, he would, “runnin’ off to Florida and taking some big deal, that shit ain’t right—it’s selfish.”

Joel had never meant to turn his career into entertainment, competing in circuits at a professional level before his body started to take a toll, eventually earning the Old Timer moniker and booking shows around the surrounding cities of Texas before touring the country.

If you were involved in rodeo, or even caught a whiff of it in the media, you knew who the Old Timer was. And even with him gone, you can feel your father looming.

The echoing mantra of his words in your head as you remember watching Joel perform with Buttercup, a long-established Bronc with his own exuberant personality to match Joel’s more subdued one, a perfect balance. 

Ain’t nothing out there you won’t experience here in Austin. 

You weren’t sure where the animosity stemmed from until now—it was a clear path he had pictured for himself and you, riding out the rest of your career in Texas, even as you were starting to climb the ladder as one of the more notorious female riders, still just a whisper for most people, living in the shadow of your father for so long.

“He’s stuck in his ways and that’s not sayin’ I’m any different, but I don’t regret signing that deal for a better way of livin’—a easier way, it got me all of this,” He throws his arms out lazily, property that stretched for miles, a place where he’s come to offer a camp for young riders to learn the ropes and get comfortable around the animals in a safe environment.

But, it was also home.

It was a surprise waking up one morning to a yard full of kids, a handful no older than ten or eleven, showing how easily Joel molded into the teaching role in such a relaxed environment.

You weren’t sure if that was when your feelings for him had evolved or if it was during the early weeks of being injured when Joel would sit with you bedside almost every night, either reading or working on his crosswords like it was religion, glasses perched on his nose as he moved with every subtle twitch you would make, worry etched on his face.

It was a mix of both and more, countless times you’ve found yourself at a loss for words.

“If he knew,” You pause, chewing at your bottom lip with worry, “if he knew—that I was here, that I turned down his help to come to you, Joel, I don’t know how he would react,”

“There ain’t a single reason he needs to know,” Joel assures you, “I’m sure he’s said a lot about me and some of it is probably true, but you deserve a place you feel safe.”

You nod, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. 

Joel's words sink in, and you realize just how much you needed to hear them. The weight of your father's expectations, his dreams for your future, had been suffocating you for far too long.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft whinnying of horses in the nearby stables, and your words linger, like you’re holding back, “I do—I do feel safe…”

Joel hums, turning his body toward you more, his elbow meeting the railing of the ring.

“But?”

“You have to know,” You begin, heart constricting with nerves, a surge of adrenaline rushing through your veins as Joel looks at you, all of you, that familiar full body glance that you’re not even sure he realizes he’s doing, “it’s more than just safety, Joel.”

"I reckon I do know," he says, his voice low and gravelly, still thick from sleep. "Been knowin' for a while now."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning and possibility. Uncertainty.

“I feel stupid,” You laugh away the sudden embarrassment, face heating as the silence grows, “fuck I’m—I’m only a couple years older than the girls and you were helping me with my math homework while trying to teach them how to tie their shoes. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“Seems to me like you’re an adult capable of making her own choices,” Joel decides.

You feel a flutter in your chest at Joel's words, at the implicit acceptance in them. 

Your eyes meet his, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but you find only warmth and a hint of something deeper, enticingly haunting.

"I've been making my own choices for a while now," you say softly, not realizing the instinctual gravitation toward him until his chest is pressing into your shoulder. "Some good, some...not so good. But, coming here? It was the first choice I’ve made for myself that felt right."

“It always needs to feel like that, sweetheart.”

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

Joel tightens the belt at your waist, the leather stiff from lack of wear. You’ve only worn the uniform a few times for fittings, a brightly colored shirt and riding pants to match, which were still hung on the rack behind Joel. 

He takes a moment to tug at the leather to assure it was secure before he drops down to his knees, catching you by surprise with a bubble of laughter slipping past your lips.

“Joel, what are you doing?”

He shrugs, pressing featherlight kisses along the top of your thigh while his hand drags along the back, hooking behind your right leg as he brings your knee to his mouth, his lips pressing over the jagged but healed scar.

You find yourself overcome with unexpected emotion, throat burning with the threat of impending tears, the moment holding still as Joel looks up at you.

Joel’s Ranch, Four Months Ago — Flashback:

It was intended to be a simple task, filling the troughs with water as you both lugged the buckets to each individual pen, narrowly escaping Joel’s increasingly boyish behavior as he fills the trough up halfway before he’s tossing the rest of the water at you, gasping at the cold, frigid temperature of it.

“You ain’t smiled today,” Joel reminds you, suddenly sheepish as you realize how big the grin on your face has grown, wasting the rest of the water to return the wet favor, tossing the bucket on the floor before you decide to make a run for the house nearly at the door before you slip on a slick spot of mud.

Squealing, your arms flail out—you accept your fate, arms bracing behind you as you wait for the impact, but instead you’re caught by two thick arms wrapping under and around you and your breath catches as you find yourself pressed against Joel's broad chest, his strong arms holding you securely.

Your heart races with an anxious stir of emotions, interlaced with excitement, suddenly very aware of how close your bodies are. Joel aids you back to your feet, shoving him away playfully as you snake your way out of his arms, trying your hardest to seem upset even though you weren’t.

“Careful,” Joel warns, “can’t have you injuring yourself any worse, you’ll be takin’ up a permanent residence here.

“Would it be so bad?” You ask curiously, a hint of teasing to your tone, “I think you like the idea of keeping me here, all to yourself.”

His eyes echo his earlier words. Careful.

The restraint he shows day by day amazes himself with how hard you’ve tried to break him down, some guilt surrounding his own growing feelings, ashamed with how strong they’ve become.

“Where’s your manners, anyways?” You ask, “You get a girl all wet and you can’t even invite her to dinner or kiss her first? And I thought you were a gentleman.”

Joel wasn’t intimidated by much in his life, but the way you see straight through him with ease—he’s helpless under your gaze, the grin on your face that follows is tortuous to his psyche.

“Oh, don’t hurt yourself, Joel,” You tease, poking at the damp fabric stuck to his chest, his eyes following the movement as you pull away and turn toward the house, “I’m just fucking with you.”

Joel snaps then, pulling at your wrist with a gentle tug, “Now, you ain’t gotta be so crude all the time, mouth like that’ll get you in trouble,”

Like this?

Joel sees the smug expression as it sneaks onto your features, his grip climbing higher until you’re at the lip of his front door and he’s got you crowded, pressing into the flimsy screen as he noses at your cheek like a wolf sniffing out prey, violently aware of how your hand squeezes into his wet shirt and pulls him closer.

“Just kiss me,” You plead, “fuck—please. Just do it.”

It was a craving so unnatural you ache, in your gut and chest, lips parting as your chin lifts in an effort to chase his hesitance. You’ve both been dancing around this for weeks.

Joel's resolve crumbles, his self-control shattering like glass.

With a low growl, he captures your lips in a hurried kiss, weeks of pent-up desire pouring out in a single, passionate moment. His calloused hands frame your face, holding you steady as he deepens the kiss, tongue seeking entrance between your lips.

And you melt instantly, fingers curling tighter into his shirt. It was everything you needed.

Rough but tender, his soft lips against your own with the satisfying scratch of his overgrown beard that tickled your cheeks and nose, hiccuping a breath into the kiss as he tilts your head up to meet his hungry mouth, each press more insatiable than the last. 

When you finally part, both panting for air, Joel rests his forehead against your own and allows his eyes to fall shut for a moment as you giggle, shaking slightly in his hold.

“Now, was that so hard?”

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

He’s got you imprisoned this way—body and soul, your hand shifting to rest at the crown of his head, curling into his hair, another gentle kiss before he’s leaning his cheek against the inside of your thigh and offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“You plan on stayin’ down there, cowboy?”

Joel chuckles, shifting to hide his face into your thigh.

It’s a gentle tickle, his mouth against your skin, but it brings you immense comfort.

“We’ve got fifteen minutes,” You remind him, eyeing the clock overhead, “I think we can manage.”

He shakes his head with relaxed defiance, groaning quietly as he pushes to his feet again.

“Right—right, later. No distractions,” You repeat his earlier words, followed by a playful roll of your eyes, “You’re not making it easy, you know?”

Joel’s Ranch, Four Months Ago — Flashback:

Joel’s got you on a strict schedule lately once you’re cleared for training—breakfast, a workout, practice, lunch, repeat, only a few months out until your inevitable return and he’s hammering the routine into your brain, which you appreciate, but a break would be nice.

The run-through was flawless this evening and you retired earlier, savoring the burning heat of water as it melted over your skin, dressed in a loose shirt and panties as you searched through your messy suitcase of clothes and the pile that has grown over time with your extensive stay, down on your knees.

It wasn’t always this easy, depending on Joel for nearly everything in the beginning of your stay.

He was showering in his room simultaneously, or so you thought.

Joel spotted your hat about halfway through the living room, resting on a post outside.

His chest is still wet, jeans unbuttoned but snug on his hips as he strolled barefoot outside and retrieved the item, knowing that you hardly parted with it, it was a strange sight.

You pause in your rummaging, sensing a presence behind you moments later.

Turning, your breath catches at the sight of Joel standing in your doorway, hat balanced on his head as he leaned against the frame and smiled, the muscles in his arms conforming to the stretch and pull as he crossed them, tanned skin glistening with the few droplets of water still lingering.

“Found your hat,” Well, one could only suspect.

You stand slowly, acutely aware of how little you're wearing. "Thanks," you murmur as you make your way toward him, reaching for the hat. Your fingers brush as he hands it over, his own molding around the crown of the hat, bottom side up.

Joel doesn’t let go immediately like you’re anticipating, “I think you deserve a weekend off,”

“No,” You argue instantly, “I’m finally getting comfortable with the routine, I don’t need a day off.”

Joel’s face scrunches up in with a lack of belief in you words, tilting his head with narrowing gaze, “Now, that’s something only a person who needs a day off would say,”

“Joel, no,” You put your foot down, finally prying his fingers away from the hat, seeking a few inches of space from his bare chest and the unbearable heat that radiates from his frame.

While your admission of feelings had led him to be less reserved with the way he approached your or talked, more touchy during practice and at night while you both cuddled up on the couch and watched some old western you could care less about—Joel really loved them, though, so that had to count for something.

He makes you nervous, anticipatory of his next move, waiting for him to put your misery and break the metaphorical seal over your relationship—if you could even call it that, but it never happened. It would have to be you, a choice you made entirely on your own.

Your heart races as you take a step back, clutching the hat to your chest like a shield.

Joel's eyes follow your movement, a flicker of something indecipherable crossing his face before he schools his expression back to that easy, warm smile. It’s subtle, but there.

"I get it," Joel levels, "You're afraid of losing momentum.”

You shrug, unsure if that was fully true.

“C’mon,” Joel beckons, uncrossing his arms to offer his hand, your eyes following it with hesitance.

Joel chuckles to himself and pulls the hat from your grip before placing it on your head, fingers circling your wrist before they trail toward your hand and lead you toward the kitchen, through his expansive living room until he’s guiding you toward one of the few barstool, silently ordering you to sit down.

Almost immediately, he squats behind the island to rummage through the liquor collection he kept stored away for the occasional celebration or nightcap, avoiding it mostly out of preference while you trained, but he’s sliding a glass of whiskey over before you can fully piece together what he’s doing, rounding the counter with his own glass in hand.

“Happy early birthday to me, I guess,” You joke before taking a small sip of the whiskey, knowing your 22nd birthday was on the horizon but enjoying the reaction as Joel’s face contorts through phases—first confusion, then fear, before he’s attempting to pull the glass from your grip as he realizes his mistake

You giggle and stretch the glass out of reach, “Oh, calm down—I’m old enough to drink, Joel. Old age is really getting to you, isn’t it? I didn’t celebrate last year because I was so focused on the show, but we all know how that turned out,”

“You’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?” Joel asks, downing the rest of the liquid in one go.

He’s drifted closer now, palm pressed into the counter beside your arm, his free hand rising up to tip the brim of your hat up, your bottom lip pulling between your teeth with an impish gaze.

“I’m just so young and impressionable,” You feign innocence, “I blame you.”

Joel's eyes darken, a mix of amusement and something more intense swirling in the depths of brown. Holding his eyes, you slide the glass against the counter and reach for your hat before placing it back on his head, a little on the snug side but still wearable.

“Kinda like it on you better,” You decide, adjusting the brim before your fingers trail toward his shoulders and settle there, feeling the muscle underneath twitch as he laughs, though you find yourself deadly serious and sincere, no longer meeting his eyes as yours trail toward the patch of hair at the center of his chest and down, a solid wall of muscle follow—Joel wasn’t defined, but he was large, intimidatingly so. When he wasn’t riding, he was building, working with his hands, lifting and moving things around the ranch, it was mouthwatering to watch.

“Eyes up, sugar,” He warns, not realizing how dangerously low your hands had trailed before your fingers were folding over the open seam of his jeans and how blatantly obvious it was that Joel wasn’t wearing anything underneath and how his cock had swelled slightly with your proximity and innocent touches.

You feel a rush of excitement as your fingers brush against the warm skin just beneath the waistband of his jeans. Joel's breath hitches, his hand moving to grip your wrist firmly.

“But, you’re—”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, “Can’t help that part—bein’ around you ain’t easy lately.”

In any other circumstance you would take those words harshly, but you can see the pain on his face, the self-restraint he’s holding himself to.

“I can—we can,” You offer, legs spreading on their own as you turn toward him, fitting him between your thighs as you lean into him, “I mean—it isn’t like you’ll be stealing my virtue. I’m not that innocent, Joel.”

Joel's grip on your wrist tightens, his jaw clenching as he struggles to maintain control. 

You can see the conflict in his eyes—desire warring with his sense of propriety.

Impatient, you surge upwards, pressing your lips against his with a hunger he hasn’t seen from you before, taking advantage of his parted mouth and dragging your tongue across his top lip, feeling the restrain in the way he kisses you back subdued with his hesitant touch.

“Think about—what you’re—askin’ for,” Joel interrupts through hurried kisses, his hand curling around the side of your neck to push you back, “What this’ll mean for you.”

“I think you should fuck me,” You respond crudely, “besides—you kissed me first.”

His resolve wavers, and you seize the opportunity. 

Your free hand slides up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. Joel's eyes flutter closed for a moment, a soft groan escaping his lips at the indecent sight of you looking up at him, lips parted on a breath and eyes wide with desire.

Joel never made great choices, only what felt right in the moment.

And somehow, it has led him here.

“We shouldn’t,” He says softly, “s’just another distraction.”

“My mind has never been more clear, Joel,” You argue.

Joel’s resistance is weakening quickly and with a low growl, he’s capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his hand leaving your wrist to grip your hip with a natural possessiveness, the same touch he lends while you’re riding, not an entirely different circumstance, but the intention is loud. You moan into his mouth, arching against him as his fingers dig into your flesh.

“Slow down, cowboy,��� You tease, flicking at the hat, your laugh breaking through the tension as Joel parts for a brief second, watching your fingers fold around the hem of your shirt, “help me?”

It’s devious, you know, he knows it. 

But, he listens.

The moment your shirt is thrown to the floor, Joel’s jaw slackens.

Instinctually, his thumb drifts over your nipples, circling the areola before he’s using the full expanse of his grip to cup your breasts, maneuvering the barstool until you’re leaning against the marble top, his lips latching onto your skin, tongue alternate as they circle the sensitive buds.

He’ll repent later, much later.

A gasp escapes you when he grazes his teeth against your nipple, sending a spark of pleasure through your body.

"Joel," you breathe, arching into his touch. He hums against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. He knew exactly what he was doing, hesitance out the window and replaced with newfound confidence.

His hands slide down your sides, rough calluses catching on your soft skin as he explores every inch of you. When his fingers reach the waistband of underwear, he pauses, looking up at you for guidance and surety. 

You nod eagerly, lifting your hips in time with his tug, pulling the damp fabric down your legs and leaving you bare. The cool air hits your heated skin, making you shiver with anticipation. Joel's eyes rake over your naked form, hunger evident in his eyes.

And you learn quickly that his skilled hands and fingers aren’t entirely for show, two fingers to start as they push inside of your cunt, head tilted back into his empty hand as he watches you carefully - the quickened breath as he curls his fingers, eyes fluttering shut when he reaches a sensitive spot deep inside of you, gasping for air while he brushes it once, twice, until you’re nothing but a sobbing mess, crying out his name until you come over his fingers, the butt of his palm pressed against your clit for added measure.

“She loves me, don’t she?” Joel teases, the gall of that man.

You offer a pathetic sound of acknowledgement, Joel's eyes never leaving your face as you come undone, drinking in every gasp and shudder. As your climax subsides, he slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips. His tongue darts out, cleaning up the mess you’ve made, his chest rumbling with a deep groan.

You’ve had enough.

You reach for his jeans, fumbling weakly as you push them down, desperate for as much of him as you could consume—all of him, preferably.

His arousal is evident as you rid him of his jeans, watching as he kicks away the tangled mess to fit himself between your spread legs, his cock bobbing freely against his stomach, thick and heavy against your thigh as you pull him closer. You wrap your hand around his cock, stroking slowly, reveling in the way his breath hitches and his hips buck involuntarily.

"I’m good," You assure him without elaborating, guiding him towards your entrance—you could talk later, too desperate to feel him inside of you.

Joel hesitates for a moment, searching your eyes. Whatever he sees seems to convince him, both of your breaths holding as he presses inside with slow, hesitant thrusts.

The sensation steals your words, knowing just by the sight of him that it would be pushing what you were used to, and no fumbling hands either, sure in every touch he laid upon you.

The way he squeezed at your hip and curled his other hand around the back of your neck, protecting you from the hard edge of the counter before he’s slinging your arms over his neck and nearly knocking the barstool to the floor as he leans into you, his hips picking up in their intensity as he listens to your body and your voice, distant and soft but there, floating in some ethereal plane of pleasure.

Your fingers dig into Joel’s shoulders, moaning at how he fills you in the most satisfying way, amiss to the bite of the counter in your back as the chair creaks and rocks with Joel’s hurried movement, breath hot against your neck where he’s buried himself.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” He sighs, mouthing his way to your ear, hissing at the sting of your grip and with that his thrusts become deeper, more forceful— each one pushing you further over the edge. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting more.

Joel’s lips find yours frantically, in desperation as he groans, a low rumble that seeps into your own mouth, “Gonna gimme one more,” He tells you,

You nod fervently, barely able to form words as Joel's movements grow more insistent.

His hand slips between your bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it with a precision that leaves you breathless. The dual sensations of his thick length filling you and his skilled touch on your clit quickly push you towards the precipice.

“Good, good,” He coos, soothing your weak cries with his mouth as your voice muffles under his guise, kissing you soundly, “go on—let go for me,”

His words push you over the edge and you come undone while Joel follows, burying himself deep inside you with a guttural moan, coming forceful and deep, fucking his spend deeper inside of you as reality resurfaces too soon.

“You alright?” Joel asks almost immediately, slipping out of you with a soft grunt.

The barstool creaks ominously as you adjust yourself and Joel chuckles.

“Probably not the sturdiest spot for that,” He jokes, thankful for the levity as he helps you stand, unsteady on your legs and held up by his firm grip, “I’m blamin’ you for that one.”

The grin it brings out of you is worth the slight discomfort you feel.

You shrug, nonchalant and admit defeat, “Guilty,”

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

He’s not supposed to be here.

There was always a plan, something tucked away in his back pocket.

This time it was the element of surprise and a mix of fear, eyes landing on him for the first time since he rushed onto Joel’s property, half-cocked and throwing out demands where he had no position or right.

He knows what he’s doing, eyes locked with yours from several feet away.

“Guest speaker?” Joel asks, the words biting as they leave his mouth, “Seriously?”

“It’s okay,” It was a mantra to yourself mostly, but Joel hears you, “I know what he’s trying to do—it won’t work.”

“You say the word, I’ll take care of it,” Joel promises.

You smirk slightly, rubbing your hand against his cheek and offering a reassuring squeeze.

“Easy, cowboy,” You offer lightheartedly, “I can handle myself.”

Joel’s Ranch, Two Months Ago — Flashback: 

You knew he’d figure it out eventually.

For a while he believed the lie—that you had been transferred to a beautiful place in Florida that dealt with injury and rehabilitation for your line of work and he accepted that, kept his distance.

He almost followed through on his reconciliation with Joel, that is, until he sees you at his side.

It was such a natural moment for the both of you now, Joel’s arm slung around your waist as he pulled you in, lips pressing against your temple before you both called it for the day, Honey’s head slipping between your hands as she noses at your head, suddenly whining at the shadowed intruder as he grew close.

At the sound of his voice, you fade away. 

You’re still here, standing, but Joel’s protectiveness jumps out instantly.

The words were loud and harsh, but the moment you snap back is as your father’s hand squeezes at your bicep and yanks you forward, immediately met with resistance. 

“I forbid it,” He shouts, “whatever brainwashin’ you’ve done to my kid, it’s over.”

“Forbid it?” You counter, “Do you hear yourself?”

“Always liked makin’ a show of things,” He sounds bitter, he is, “come on, we’re leaving.”

“No,” You tell him, voice unrecognizably strong, “I’m finally doing something for myself.”

Your father's face contorts, a mix of anger and betrayal etched into every wrinkle. He takes a step forward, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl. "For yourself? You think leaving everything behind and letting him influence you is for yourself?"

Joel shifts behind you, a ghosting of his fingers against your back but you don’t waver.

"Yes, for myself," you say, shocked at the steadiness in your voice. “I deserve a chance to figure things out my own way, I don’t have to follow the same path you did.”

Your father scoffs, shaking his head. "Your own way? You don't even know what that means, honey. All we built together, you’re ready to throw that away for him—”

"We?" you interrupt, feeling a surge of frustration. "You built that, Dad. I was a kid, I did what I was told.” It was clear he still saw you as a young girl, his protege, destined to take over after he was gone and carry on the legacy.

The silence that follows is deafening. 

Your father's eyes narrow, searching your face as if seeing you for the first time. You weren’t the same young girl who stared at him wide-eyed, amazed by his ability to wow the crowd and commit to everything he did. The disappointment in his gaze morphs into something else—hurt.

“I’m not gonna sit and wait around if he breaks your heart,” Your father tells you, “let alone how inappropriate it is—you try justifyin’ that to the public. I see what this is and what you did.”

His eyes land on Joel.

Fortunately, he couldn’t be more wrong.

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

The truth was, no one cared.

You and Joel had created an amazing partnership with natural chemistry and it seared the crowds, grabbed their attention, all eyes on you when you finally took your run out in the arena.

It was weeks that had built to this, following through your routine almost masterfully and without missing a beat, ending with a flourish trick as you stood on Honey’s back for the hundredth time it felt like now, not a single waver in your movement and lasso’d the cowboy hat from the middle of the ring and yanked it in, placing it on your head before the crowd erupted in a loud cheer.

It was the feeling you had searched for since you were younger, fulfillment like no other.

Your father’s appearance couldn’t be further from your mind and as you dismounted Honey and took your bow, your eyes searched the side for the one face that mattered most. Joel's proud grin beamed at you from across the arena, his eyes locked on yours. 

In that moment, the roar of the crowd faded away and it was him.

Joel’s Ranch, One Month Ago — Flashback:

You feel guilty for the way your eyes linger on his back as Buttercup trots around the ring, distracted and smiling to yourself as you step onto the railing and lean over with your forearms.

“Focus,” Joel chirps, “c’mon—put on your best voice.”

You clear your throat dramatically and lower your tone a bit, fighting through the giggles.

“You know him, you love him,” You bellow from deep in your chest, “It’s Old Timer!”

Joel chuckles, “That was horrible, baby.”

“So what?” You shrug, “I know him, I love him—point proven.”

It was rare to get a glimpse of Joel like this, back in his element as you watched him run-through your routine without all the flair, offering a slightly different view—though, he knows it won’t help.

You were barely focused on the routine, preoccupied with how easily Joel could capture a room like this, noticing your glossed over gaze as he finishes and hops off his horse, walking over with a knowing smirk.

"You weren't paying attention at all, were you?" Joel teases, his voice low and intimate.

You feel a heat creep up your neck as you meet his gaze.

 "I was... distracted," You admit sheepishly.

His smirk softens into a tender smile. "By what, exactly?"

“Not Joel,” You clarify, grabbing hold of his collar as you pull him close, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, “I like it when you ride, Old Timer.”

“All I gotta do is hop on a horse to make you swoon?” Joel asks, the skin around his eyes crinkling with the emotion as he blushes at the affection.

“Among other things.”

“Done and done, sweetheart.”

-

divider graphics: @saradika-graphics <3

[tbaluver]

hi this might be a strange ask😔 as a girly who bleeds like a faucet and experiences tremendous pain when on her period, i wonder how the Lads men would react to a blood stain when they wake up in the morning? And take care of their beloved having cramps and other symptoms... okay thank you!!🩷🩷

Period Stains + Period Comfort- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader, caleb x fem! reader summary: when you stain the bed sheets/ blankets + period comfort genre: fluff fluff + comfort a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ dun worry this is not a weird ask at all bc i genuinely think they're gonna be so caring this time (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ the reaction to the blood stain is below the headcanons ! i hope it was alright and that you enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

This absolute angel will be taking care of you every single day of the week. He sometimes can get a little confused because your cramps can be unpredictable. Sometimes they fade away and other times they return immediately so he’s sticking by your side the entire time until every single one of them goes away. From snuggles to feeding you to your favorite meals and snacks until you need a little space from him. He hates to see you in pain and he’ll do everything he can to make this entire week easier for you.

He might go overboard on buying your favorite snacks that you two might not even finish the entire month. He might even buy something on his way there that reminded him of you as a little gift to make you cheer up

Whenever cramps hit, his hand gently spreads across your lower abdomen, soothing away the tension and untangling the knots in your muscles. He kneads softly and if it’s not enough, he’ll lay in between your legs, offering a comforting pressure and his warmth to relieve the pain away. He'll leave some kisses on your lower abdomen and stomach even though it might not fully relieve the pain.

When your mood swings hit, he’s never fazed at all. He’ll listen patiently, letting you talk through your feelings and every frustration that comes up. To him, it’s never a burden.

────

The iron grip that Xavier had around you in the morning was strong, even more so than usual when you try to slip out of bed. As much as you want to stay in his arms, you notice a glimpse of a faint stain at the sheets from last night reminding you of your period. Gently, you try to wake him up, planting soft kisses along his skin and caressing his cheek.

“Five more minutes..” He mumbles, nuzzling into your touch. A warm blush spread across your face as you told him that the sheets had been stained. Slowly, his eyes flutter open while loosening his hold on you. As you both got up and started to pull the sheets off, he stopped you, shaking his head softly. “It’s alright. Go freshen up,” He smiles softly, “I’ll take care of the sheets.”

You quickly freshen up in the bathroom, hurrying to change out of your pajamas and into your new ones, hoping to at least help Xavier with the bed. But as soon as you step out, the sheets have already changed and the bed looks as fresh as it did when you first laid down. Even the plushies on your side of the bed were neatly placed back.

Xavier soothes out the sheets, his focus shifting towards you the moment you walk in. His expression softens with concern, “How are you feeling? Does it hurt a lot?” Before you can answer, he’s guiding you back carefully toward the bed, his hand resting on your lower abdomen with a comforting pressure. “How about we order in  some food? Anything you’re craving? Pick whatever you want.”

Zayne:

When Zayne is around during your period, you don’t have to worry about anything. The house will be clean, meals will be made or delivered, and you’ll be fully cared for.

Despite his busy schedule, Zayne always makes sure to take care of you as much as he can. You don't have to worry about running out of supplies or sweets because he's already gotten them for you. and Zayne never runs out of sweets. He’ll go through his calendar to make sure you have everything you need before your period starts. He’ll have everything you need such as things like pads/ tampons, heating pads, or medicine to ease the discomfort.

Sore boobs? Bra is unclipped, removed, and his hands are quickly on them, kneading them softly and gently. Whispers in your ear, "Is this alright?" "How does this feel?" which makes ovulation come by way quicker

Whenever nausea hits you during your period, he’s quick to make you a soothing cup of ginger or peppermint tea, or anything that will help you settle your stomach. When hot flashes happen, he’ll become your personal ice back to help you cool off.

During his breaks, he’ll check in on you and to see if you’d like a sweet treat later when he gets home. Even if you don’t want any, he’ll make sure to pick something up for you.

He also shares some helpful tips he’s learned about menstruation, like how to position a pillow a certain way in between your legs to ease your cramps when he’s not around and when he is there, he’ll replace the pillow with himself. If you’re up to it, he might suggest some light yoga or some walking. He’s learned that certain stretches can relieve pelvic pressure and he’ll do them all with you.

────

Your eyes flutter open, the comforting warmth of Zayne enveloping beside you. His hand rests gently on the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles as he reads. You groan softly, a sharp familiar ache stirs on your lower abdomen, hoping it’s just a stomach ache and not the possibility that it might be the start of your period.

Zayne’s gaze shifts towards you, setting his book down on the nightstand. “Good morning. How are you feeling?” He asks softly. “Today could be the first day of your cycle. I suggest you freshen up and check.” Zayne had been tracking your cycles since the beginning of your relationships, his predictions had been right most of the time. The moment you shift out of bed, you felt that familiar discomfort flowing down between your legs, confirming he was in fact right.

As you move toward the bathroom door, he grabs a fresh set of clothes for you, closing the door behind you with a soft click as he tends to the small stain left behind on your shared bed. He had noticed it before you, not drawing attention to it so you don’t have to worry about a thing.

You quickly freshened up and changed, hoping he hadn’t noticed the stain but as soon as you opened the bathroom door, he was calmly tending the bed already. Before you could speak or apologize, he was already ahead of you. “I changed the sheets,” He said softly, “I’ll make you some tea.” He gently pulls you closer to him, pressing a soft and reassuring kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to stain the bed.. I should’ve cleaned it.” Zayne shook his head, his lips curving into a gentle small smile.

“You don’t need to be sorry for something you can’t control. It’s natural. Now what would you like for breakfast?”

Rafayel:

Rafayel becomes your personal heating pad, carefully using his evol to warm your lower abdomen just enough to bring you comfort and to get rid of your cramps.

Cuddles with lots of soft feather-like kisses that make you giggle from how it tickles but not to the point where you’re squirming uncontrollably. He playfully talks to your abdomen as he slowly massages it. “Free her! She’s had enough! Let me take her pain!” to lighten your mood during discomfort

Rafayel never misses a chance to shower you with compliments. He knows how you might feel icky or uncomfortable with yourself during this time so he makes sure to lift you up instead, reminding you how beautiful and strong you are. He’s not letting you forget how deeply he loves and appreciates you.

He’ll also have some medicine in stock if you need it, bringing you a cooling compress to gently press against your forehead whenever your head hurts/ hot flashes

Bubble baths with him are a must. He knows how intense your cramps can be from knowing how much your cramps affect you and he believes a warm bubble bath will help. He’s super gentle, running his hands through your hair while soft massaging your lower abdomen to provide soothing relief.

────

Your eyes flutter open, the soft sounds of seagulls calling from outside the window stirring you awake from your sleep. Rafayel is already awake, propped up on his elbow, his gaze fixed on you with a soft smile. He watches as you stir awake, his heart warming at the sight beside him.

“Good morning cutie,” The corners of his lips slightly crinkled at the corners as he watched you. As much as you want to soak in this peaceful and intimate moment with him, that sharp pain in your lower abdomen makes you curl further into a ball, a small groan escaping your lips. The discomfort makes your face scrunt up and Rafayel immediately notices. “Aww, is it shark week already?” He teases, gently cupping your lower abdomen before massaging it in slow, soothing circles. “How about a bubble bath? Maybe that’ll help.” 

The two of you slowly get out of bed, the flow of your blood makes the discomfort even worse. As you glance down, your heart sinks when you spot a stain on your side of the bed, making you feel a little embarrassed. Rafayel notices at the same time and gives you a reassuring smile as he reaches out to gently squeeze your hand. “Dun worry. I’ve got it covered. I’ll take care of everything.” He flashes a playful wink as he guides you toward your shared bathroom. “And I’ll make sure to take care of those sharks for ya later, promise.”

He helps you sit on the edge of the bathtub, adjusting the water to just the perfect temperature. While you settle in, he quickly leaves the room. You hear the soft rustle of the sheets being pulled away as he tosses them into the laundry bin and he later comes back holding a fresh set of clothes for the both of you.

“I’ll make sure the bed’s all fresh when we’re done.” He leans down, kissing your forehead, his lips lingering for a second before he pulls back. “I’ve got it all covered cutie.”

Sylus:

Sylus makes sure to put a lot of effort to make sure you were absolutely comfortable. He’ll provide as many meals, snacks, pillows, and blankets as you need. Whatever you want, he’ll provide it all for you. There’s no need for you to lift a finger or even a leg this week.

Anything you crave? He's already got it or it's on its way in a few minutes. If you want him to prepare a meal he'll make it for you or he'll get a personal chef to make it for the both of you so he can stay by your side.

If you’re dealing with a headache, he’ll close the curtains and dim the lights before pressing soft kisses to your forehead. After that, he’ll grab you some medicine to ease the pain and make you a cup of tea to make it all go away.

Sylus understands the pain you’re in and how sluggish you feel. Without hesitation, he curls up beside you, his warmth enveloping you. He showers you with gentle kisses, whispering soothing words.

He gives you all the massages you want. His large hands are heavenly on you, massaging any area that you want relief. It’s so soothing that it has your eyes fluttering shut as the tension melts away under his touch.

If any tears start to fall and you can’t explain why, he’s there by your side. He murmurs sweet things and reassurance to your ear and later pampers you if it makes you feel better.

────

You wake up to a dull ache in your lower abdomen, curling closer to Sylus to seek comfort in his embrace. Your limbs tangle together and though it should bring you relief, it doesn’t ease the sting. As you shift, you feel the dampness through your pajamas, your stomach sinks with the idea that you might’ve stained his expensive sheets.

Not wanting to disturb his peaceful slumber, you gently stir Sylus awake. His eyes flutter open slowly, his muscles relaxing to see you. “Hmm..? Since when did you start waking up earlier than me sweetie?” His voice low and raspy, pulling you even closer to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

You hesitate for a moment before explaining, “I think I might have stained the bed..It might be my first day..”

He pulls away slightly, “You think you stained the bed?” He places a hand on your lower abdomen, his fingers slowly try to massage the ache away. “How much does it hurt right now? Can you walk?”

You give him a small reassuring smile, “I should be fine..just uncomfortable.” His touch lingers for a little longer before he nods.

“Go change, I’ll take care of everything.” His voice stays calm and reassuring. Despite your offer to help, Sylus shakes his head with a gentle smile. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get it done.”

By the time you return, Sylus has nearly finished changing the sheets. You walk over to him, trying to help smooth out the sheets, a small frown tugging at your lips as you worry about the stain going through the mattress. “What if I ruined the bed? I didn’t mean to..”

Sylus turns to you, a soft chuckle escaping him. He steps closer, his hand gently cupping the back of your head before pressing a soft kiss, his lips grazing your hair. “It's just a bed sweetie. Besides, what matters is that you’re okay. I’ll handle everything here. Just focus on getting some rest.”

Caleb:

Caleb is experienced in this area when it comes to taking care of you during your period. He’s been there since the very beginning of it all. He remembers exactly what type of pads/ tampons you use and it’s second nature for him to pick them up from the store without a second thought. He’s never uncomfortable walking through the feminine care aisle at all.

He makes sure to pick up the snacks you love and doesn’t hesitate to text you if you were craving anything specific so he can pick it up before he comes home. He also picks up ingredients for your favorite meals, knowing the comfort of a delicious home cooked meal will bring a smile to your face.

Speaking of food, he’ll prepare you some warm and comforting meals that he knows will help you feel better. He’ll make sure you eat every single bite, gently encouraging you not to skip any meals.

He’ll come into your room with a tray of ice cream, loaded with your favorite flavors and toppings. “Hey pip-honey, I got you some of your favorite ice cream. I’ll make you whatever you want. I can whip up a sundae for you even if it’s just a Thursday."

He hates to see you in pain, it breaks his heart. He’s silently cursing the universe for making you go through this, wishing he could take it all away. But for now what he can do is stay by your side, massaging you as long as you need. His hands are gentle and steady, warming up heating pads and placing them on your lower abdomen to give you some relief. As he does this, he softly murmurs sweet reassurances in your eat and that 'Caleb’s here to help you through it.'

Caleb handles your mood swings pretty well and has so much patience. He never minds if you’re feeling grouchy or irritable. Whenever your emotions get the best of you and you snap a little, he’s always there to listen, letting you vent about anything you have a problem with.

────

“Hey..hey pipsqueak..” Caleb murmurs as he brushes a lock of hair from your face. “Juust for a second.. I need you to wake up.” Your eyes flutter open and that familiar sharp ache in your lower abdomen makes you wince, instinctively curling into yourself. “Does it hurt? Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?” You shake your head, not wanting to get up from his embrace just yet.

“mm..what’s going on?” You mumble sleepily.

“I need to change the sheets real quick,” His voice a little sheepish. “Then you can go back to sleep. I’ll make you some breakfast and you can stay right here okay?” You sigh as a gentle protest but nod. As you slowly sit up, the discomfort of the flow makes itself known as you make your way to the bathroom.

You’ve grown up together and something as natural as this could not make him see you any differently. He’s seen it all, the awkward moments, the cramps, the emotional and physical mess you’ve been through. Despite the discomfort you feel, he’s always there to help and tries his absolute best to make this easier for you. 

He quickly strips the bed, changing the sheets to something more comfortable and fluffing your pillows just the way you like them. By the time you step back into your room, freshly changed, the bed is already made up neatly.

“There,” He says with a bright smile as his gaze locks on you. “All nice and cozy just for you pipsqueak.” He pulls you back into bed, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Now, get some rest. I’ll take care of everything else.”

cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

a/n: also the caleb and the sundae part is a reference to a tiktok im still trying to find it bc i have to many edits saved-

here's a post i wrote that's similar to this! only all four of them for now When You're On Your Period

my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist Pg.1 , Pg.2

[is-this-even-relatable]

I cried so fucking much during the underworld saga. That first song hit me like a goddamn truck. Then there was a second and third truck. I was drawn and quartered by those songs. I was sobbing in my bed, full on ugly crying, at 2 in the morning because I decided to “see what all the hype was about” by listening to it for the first time when I couldn’t sleep.

I have yet to move on past the underworld saga because I keep telling myself I should relisten to them first before I continue and then I just break down and can’t.

tldr; get ready for a poorly explained rant (because I avoid spoilers) on why

Epic: The Musical is brilliant.

and why you should listen to it.

———————————-

It’s beautiful. It’s genre-defining. The theming that carries through the whole work from the very first song… the absolute sheer talent in every singer brought on board the project. The emotions they are able to bring out into each piece. They truly deserve to be called artists.

I have not watched anything, a single piece of fan animation. I have consumed only the raw audio media and I have been able to conjure up full movie scenery in my mind while listening. Each song is so good at telling the story.

I grew up loving greek mythology. I was a huge Percy Jackson fan. I had a childhood book on Odysseus that I still enjoy re-reading called Ulysses that tells the story much the same, minus a few parts and in much more childish fashion. And you know why I love it?

Because Homer’s Odyssey is an epic on love.

(An epic is a long-form prose-like poetry style that tells the story a heroic character. And isn’t it clever to name the album that?)

It is about Odysseus and his twenty-year journey to get back home to his wife and son. It is about every bump, every roadblock, every setback and every enemy that bars his way. It is about how close he gets. It is about how long he took, about everyone he lost along the way. And it is about a man who, despite it all, did not give up. Who never stopped trying. It is about a broken man who made mistakes, who wavered, who fell, and who stood up again because there was someone waiting for him.

And the songs? They tell it so well. I am genuinely shocked and in awe at how much I love it, at the vocal range, at the imagery and storytelling. GOD, THE THEMING. How does one have a plan from the very. first. song? To stretch all the way through the whole journey to the very last, fortieth song? It’s a goddamn feat is what it is.

And it’s only a damn concept album. As you listen, you start to imagine what could be a whole musical play and IT WOULD BE GLORIOUS. It would be damn long, to be fair, but it would be literally insane. It would be like trying to distill the lord of the rings movies.

Literally the whole concept album,

(it’s blasphemous to include the word “concept” anywhere near this finished masterpiece)

which is only the songs of this would-be musical, is nearly 2 hours and 30 minutes. That is 9 sagas, and 40 songs split between them. The average musical is under 3 hours total, with intermission. The average musical only has around 15-20 songs, the rest of the time for regular play stuff.

Jorge Rivera-Herrans and the cast of Epic: The Musical created two musicals-worth of songs and storytelling.

I want to shake Jay Herrans’ hand because he went “what if the Odyssey was a musical?” and didn’t wait for an answer. He sung the answer himself.

If you are a fan of greek mythology, you need to listen to this retelling. And if you have never heard of the Odyssey or the Iliad or Odysseus and Penelope or his roman name Ulysses, you will not regret learning of it now.

Years from now, or even very soon, some cool english teachers are going to teach the Odyssey to their class and they’re going to assign listening to these fucking albums.

If it has been on your feed and you have been seeing media about it, it is for good reason that so many people are talking about it. This is your sign. Give it a listen, and give it a real good listen. Give it your full attention when you have the time for it.

Oh, and by god, please make sure to listen in order.

It’s like watching a tv show starting with the final episode of the last season if you listen out of order. There’s an official playlist on Spotify with everything in it, all the songs in order. I’ve linked it below. I’ve also listed underneath the correct album listening order. Give yourself the best experience and respect the product.

The proper saga listening order is:

The Troy Saga

The Cyclops Saga

The Ocean Saga

The Circe Saga

The Underworld Saga

The Thunder Saga

The Wisdom Saga

The Vengeance Saga

The Ithaca Saga

[rafesbbdoll]

Can you do a rafe imagine where she’s a pogue but he’s always had a soft spot for her. He doesn’t fight or will stop a fight if she’s there and is always nice to her. She notices and decides to test the theory

soft spot . rafe cameron

wc . 1.3k

warnings: animal death, fluff, ruthie, NOT PROOFREAD

you were a pogue from the beginning, living on the cut, hanging out with your friends, and getting out of the stereotypical "kook type." you didn't have any issues with the kooks, only when they crossed your conversation with some bullshit ass excuse. but not even rafe, which was relieving based on his past but also confusing.

rafe hated your friend group, even more when sarah joined you guys. but rafe never once made a snarky comment towards you like he would kiara or sarah. he never argued with you. he never told you off. he was never mean to you.

it was a sunny day in kildare, right after a storm, the perfect surf day. everyone was on the beach; the kooks, the pogues, even the tourist visiting. you all arrived, hopping out of the twinkie, and setting up your spot on the beach. you were helping sarah set up the umbrella, thinking about tanning first. "it looks good but i want to get in a good tan before the sun goes down," you explained, laying your towel down, away from the umbrella. "honestly, true, but don't you want to enjoy the waves before they're gone?" sarah asked, grabbing her surf board from the van.

"trust me, i will, just after my tan," you said moving to lie down. just as you did, you and the rest of the group heard a loud truck rumble coming from the other side. it was the kooks. "couldn't they haven't picked a different spot?," kiara asked dryly, her face contorting in disgust.

about two hours in, everyone was in the water besides you and rafe. you were tanning on your side, while rafe was drinking his beer on the other. you were falling asleep under the sun, your eyes closing slowly. rafe looked over at your side, watching as you fell asleep. his eyes scanned what was surrounding you, making sure you wouldn't be bothered as you slept. a little bit later, the pogues came out of the water, laughing and chatting about the waves, unaware that you were still asleep.

rafe looked over at them approaching, standing up before yelling loud enough for them to hear. "hey! dickheads! she's asleep!" the group paused and looked at rafe in confusion. "why the hell does he care?," jj asked, throwing up a middle finger at rafe, to which he shrugged him off.

later on, you were fully awake, now in the water with the girls, waiting for a wave. "y/n?", sarah started. you looked over at her, waiting for her to continue. "yeah?"

"are you and my brother hooking up or something?", she asked. you blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what she just asked. "ew sarah, no. your brother hates me, just like he hates you guys," you said looking back out into the water. "i don't know, he just seemed concerned for you earlier when you were sleep. i guess we were 'loud' and he didn't want us to interrupt your sleep," she finished. you just shrugged, preparing for the approaching wave.

after the swimming and surfing, you all began packing up your belongings when you heard kiara exclaimed. "a turtle hatch! guys!"

you looked over, immediately dropping your things when you heard her, running to see. "oh my god! theyre so tiny," you said, looking down at the baby turtles. you all cleared a path for them, allowing them to travel safely with no issues. just then, you heard the rev of a truck engine coming from the kook direction, making your heart drop. “hey! there’s a hatch! go the other way!”, you yelled out in their direction. you couldn’t even imagine them to do something so cruel, but their actions just made you eat crow.

ruthie took toppers truck, almost hitting all of you as well as the baby turtles trying to cross. you all were left speechless, looking sadly as the turtles that were killed from their reckless actions, making tears form in your eyes. just then, you saw kiara stomp over to them, a deceased turtle in her hand. when you all followed her, you heard her arguing with ruthie, it getting heated quickly. you held a turtle in your hand as well, not dead but an injured limb. rafe looked over at you, watching you as you held the injured turtle in your hands, feeling sympathy for the animal and you.

after the altercation, you stayed on the beach, making sure that the turtles were safe. rafe along with the kooks were packing up also. “wasn’t fucking funny,” rafe said to ruthie. “what? rafe be serious. there are plenty of other turtles that exist,” she snickered, walking with topper to the truck. “top, control your bitch,” he said, taking another sip of his beer. “hey, watch your mouth, man. you’ve had too much to drink,” topper replied, getting in the truck before driving off. everyone left on the kook side, rafe being left alone with his beer. he looked over, seeing you still watching the turtles.

after the turtles got into the water safely, you stood up, beginning to walk away just before rafe ran up to you. you sniffled before looking over at him. “what? here to run over more turtles?,” you asked sarcastically, holding the injured turtle in your hands. you planned on fixing up the turtle before releasing it into the ocean. “hell no. don’t include me in that shit,” he replied, walking along side you. “let me help you, yeah?”, he proposed, pointing to the turtles in your hand. “i don’t like your friends, but that was fucked up.” you just nodded at his request. “yeah, sure. i was gonna clean it off and get it better before releasing it,” you said.

he led you to a nearby animal clinic, allowing the veterinarians to fix the turtle for you. you two were sitting in the waiting room patiently waiting. “why are you helping me anyway?,” you asked sarcastically “i thought you hated us.”

rafe looked over at you, taking a deep breath in before speaking, “i don’t hate you. just your friends.” hey, at least he was honest. you nodded, looking back at your fingers. your phone had died a while ago, so you were sitting in silence with him. it wasn’t awkward by any means, but it felt confusing too.

the veterinarian called you names, signaling that the turtle was all better. you smiled with joy. “thank you so much,” you smiled at the woman. she smiled back at you before you and rafe left. rafe watched your interaction with the woman, smiling to himself as your kindness. you and rafe had headed back to the beach, releasing the turtle back in the water, watching as it crawled towards its home.

rafe ended up driving you back to house, understanding that you didn’t have a ride and it was dark outside. “thank you,” you said sincerely looking over at him. you never knew rafe could have such a heart, so it made you happy, even if he did hate your friends. “no need. i’d do anything for you,” he replied, putting his truck in park. he looked over at you, you doing the same.

“maybe we could hang out sometime,” he suggested. you nodded in response, a small smile showing faintly on your face. “i’d like that.” he handed you his phone, opening for a new contact before handing it to you. you entered your number and contact name, titling it “y/n 🐢” before handing it back to him. rafe smiled at the screen before sending a text to your phone. “i’ll text you back when my phone is charged,” you said, noticing that the text didn’t send yet. rafe nodded before unlocking the doors. “get inside safe, y/n.”

maybe rafe wasn’t that bad.

i love

[slvttyplum]

“who’s the cute guy with the wide blue eyes and big bad mmm like…”

𐙚⋆.˚ cw : nervous and kinda loser gojo, thought it was cute.

satoru was handsome, funny, sweet, patient, and caring—all the things you could ask for in a man.

who knew the nerdy guy in your lecture who stared at you throughout it and drew pictures of you in his notebook would be your boyfriend?

“so, uh… w-what’s your major?”

that was the first thing he ever asked you, pushing up his glasses with a grin on his face, leaning against the table, trying to look cool.

it worked because you already thought he was cool; you adored him.

even your friends thought he was the perfect match for you, yet you always kept your crush on him private.

you never really spoke to him, not wanting to be a nervous wreck, so you kept to yourself, occasionally watching him from afar.

the crush went both ways for a pretty long time until satoru finally caved in and asked you out, with confidence, i might add; it was the cutest thing.

“i just really like you. i haven’t felt this way in a long time. no, no, wait, i’ve never felt this way.”

that was that; he took you on a date right after, and it’s been history ever since. of course satoru had his flaws, and so did you; who didn’t? but being with him was so refreshing.

satoru was understanding about everything, even when he was a little prick about it, just so you could see it from his perspective.

he loved you, and he couldn’t have you doubting yourself or beating yourself up about things.

“stop saying that; it’s annoying. you’re great, amazing, phenomenal, spectacular, perfect.”

he would go on and on reassuring you that what you were doing and going in life was good enough. satoru wasn’t going to have you talking bad about yourself or even hinting at it; it pissed him off.

“okay, okay, i get it, thank you.”

snuggling into his neck while he was at his desk just scribbling away on his paper, even when he was busy, he still made time for you to show that he loves and supports you through and through.

“there we go.”

sometimes days would go by, especially when satoru had an upcoming test where he was too into whatever he was doing to see you, so he would get you and bring you back to his dorm just to have you in his lap the entire time.

god, he loves you on his lap. it became an ongoing thing that whenever you weren’t on his lap, he found himself fidgeting or bouncing his leg.

sometimes that even led to… well, you know.

starting with you slowly kissing his cheeks, then going down to his jaw, then going down even slower to his neck that was on display like some freshly baked cookies.

once you started, satoru couldn’t focus on a damn thing, even writing gibberish on his paper while his arm tightened around you, taking off his glasses and smirking.

“don’t start something you can’t finish.”

leaning his head back so you could get to where you needed to be easier, a smile now on his face when he could feel you getting lower.

“control yourself, gojo,” mumbling into his neck as you kept going.

he got turned on so easily it was pathetic but also cute, telling you that he wanted to show you something in his bed just to flip you over like a pancake.

see? he could do both. that’s why you love him so damn much, a very versatile man.

one thing he learned while being with you is that while yes, school and classes and making sure his grades were where they needed to be was important, so were you.

you started being a priority for him along with his work and he had to balance them, and he did well with that.

did well with you; he loves you, but he'll never tell you; he would probably fall into a heart attack.

[ryuucam]

SWEET BROWN SUGAR (VOL 2)

˓𓄹 ࣪˖ more kink drabbles :3 including jing yuan, gallagher, mr reca, phainon (vol 1 here)

contains a bit darker than vol 1 .. meanie jing yuan :(, gallagher is gross (i need him so bad)!!!! actress!reader in reca’s hehe, phainon is lowk insane

notes cant wait for mydei’s banner (i barely saved up a 10 pull)

JING YUAN — cockwarming + breeding

lazy sex with the laziest general on the xianzhou isn’t a surprise to anyone. but alas, despite being older, bigger and wiser now, he was still raised as a cloud knight, trained to build up as much stamina as he could. maybe, you wonder, that’s why he never seems to get too tired, never seems to get his stupid fat cock to soften. however, he just can’t be bothered to thrust into you, breaking out a sweat to pound in his sweet lover, no, he’ll just stuff it right into your cunt, keeping it warm as he finishes all the paperwork diviner fu sent him. too lazy to think about what the cloud knights who barge into the seat of divine foresight will think, jing yuan figures it’s best to keep you plopped into his lap all day. but of course his princess is bound to get bored, and he’s never been an evil man. so his honeyed words fill up the room, encouraging you to fuck yourself using him, hands rubbing your tits above your shirt. lunch breaks are his favorite part of the day, since you typically work up the courage to ride him then. he won’t help you, no, he’ll save his actions for later tonight, but he still keeps you plugged with his cum, filling your tummy and keeping it warm.

GALLAGHER — daddy + corruption

gallagher gets disgusted with himself sometimes. he knows he shouldn’t hang around you so much, but you make it so easy when you stumble into his bar for the nth time this month, short skirt hanging low on your hips. but, he also knows you really don’t know any better. he’s always so nice to you, maybe a little teasing here and there, giving you time and space to ramble about whatever fad you’re into nowadays. he just nods, eyes focused on the way your lips play with the straw of your drink. gallagher’s mind is filled with you, having spent countless off duty nights tugging at his cock wishing it was your hand instead. he doesn’t hesitate when he notices how you’ve been squirming on the bar stool, back arching and your nipples showing beneath your tight shirt. of course he doesn’t hesitate when you murmur something about feeling hot and wanting his help — maybe he should’ve. now you’re pressed into his small mattress, clothing long lost on the floor of his room, too busy squealing as he rubs and pinches your clit and tits. you really don’t know any better, relying on an older man to take care of you .. gallagher thinks you’re so cute, cheeks all red as you stammer out some daddy, please while he rubs his cock over your cunny. don’t worry, daddy’ll take really good care of you, ruining you for everyone else. gallagher’s gross, really, but you don’t seem to mind.

MR RECA — filming + lingerie

does this even surprise anyone? he’s penacony’s best filmmaker, known for his versatility and ability to make every genre feel appealing to the audience. of course, he can’t stick to traditional movies forever, especially since finding out how much he loves filming you. after begging you to star in a few of his movies (action, romance, whatever!), reca started feeling insatiable, completely head over heels for you. sure, he loves taking you out on cute dates and fucking you silly after, but there’s an itch he just can’t seem to scratch… until he gets the genius (his words) idea to dress you up in lewd, skimpy clothes, a stage costume of some sorts if you will, and film you getting ruined right after. he can’t pick a favorite, and thankfully he has no issues in buying you intricate lace bras or lewd latex thongs — you look great regardless, especially since he seems to have endless recording techniques up his sleeve, always managing to picture you in the best way possible. you don’t even notice, really, as reca plows his cock into you and moves the camera to capture your breasts bouncing in your flimsy bra. but of course, your little movies stay private, between you and him. the public is not deserving of such high quality erotica! (reca just doesn’t want to share you with anyone. you’ll stick to starring in slice of life movies for now.)

PHAINON — cunningulus + dacryphilia

phainon is almost the textbook definition of knight in shining armor, always tending to each and every one of your needs. even in bed, he only cares about your pleasure, spending hours and hours on foreplay, sucking your tits and bruising your neck with endless hickeys, before burying his face in your crotch. you can try to tell him to stop, to just fuck you already, but he doesn’t listen, drunk on your cunny! he sucks agonizingly slow on your poor, swollen clit, then presses wet kisses on your puffy lips before plunging his tongue in your hole. phainon is selfish, however, and despite making you cum countless times more than he does, he still wishes to leave his mark on you, so that everyone can see that you belong to phainon of the crysos heirs. his hands grip on your plush thighs, bruising your flesh, and he’s so much stronger than you — you can’t get him to leave your poor cunt alone even if you tried. when phainon stops, only because you cried a bit too much, he admires the tear stains on your cheeks. there’s a sick thought in his brain, plaguing his mind, of how innocent you look, all fucked out on his bed. the more you cry, the more he feels his cock harden again. but when you call out his name, he goes back to being the same sweet boy you know. he can’t let you know how he truly feels, who he truly is.

[tpwk-formula1]

2k Special - Pornstar Carlos

AN: I'm gonna be honest I have rewrote this so many times which is why I'm posting it today but I needed to make sure it was a good start to the new series! REQUESTS NOW OPEN FOR PORNSTAR! CARLOS

NOT PROOF READ

TW: slight edging talk, first orgasm, oral (f receiving), watching porn, unrealistic expectations

WC: 5.8K

Y/N POV

It’s late at night when I finally put my book down to head to bed. When I open Twitter to find one of my new friends from university had reposted a porn video I instantly swipe out of the app not expecting to see something so vulgar on my timeline. 

It’s not for another few minutes that curiosity gets the better of of me and I open the app back up to find a man I have never seen before sitting on a couch spread out jerking his hard cock off while he talks dirty. 

I feel a slight throb start to grow deep in my belly making me clench my thighs for looking for something but not quite sure what. 

“Touch you’re pussy for me,” the man groans through the camera in Spanish making my eyes grow wide and click onto his profile to see his name is Carlos and he is based here in Madrid. I take note that he has his own Onlyfans as well as being a partner with a porn company I had never heard of. 

For the next few nights when I was heading to bed I would open his Twitter and watch a few videos while playing with my pussy but when I can never quite reach a finish I end up giving up. 

It’s not for another month when another one of his videos pop up on my timeline but this time it was him buried deep into the pussy of another woman. It was almost instant that my fingers found my clit, and rubbing it trying to chase the orgasm I’ve never had. After a few minutes of nothing I finally give up.

It’s been a month since finding Carlos’s Twitter and I’ve seen ever single on of his videos he’s posted on here at least 3 times and when I still have yet to have my first orgasm even after feeling the tell tale signs. When I open the link to his Onlyfans I realize I only had to pay a little bit a month to get access to all of his content as well as private massages and live videos. 

When I pay for the subscription I am stunned to find Carlos already live. 

It’s clear he’s just getting started but none the less I open the live and see theres only a few other watching currently. 

As I read some of the comments I’m stunned by how bold some of the other people are but as the live continues on and my desperation grows I find myself commenting along with the other watchers. 

“Edge yourself for me” 

Is all I comment along with five euros. When the tip comes through Carlos smirks before slowing down his thrusting. 

“Just for you sweetheart”

Carlos replies back in English letting his accent shine through making me whimper at how smooth his voice is. For the next several minutes I watch as Carlos slowly edges his cock while letting a mix between Spanish and English dirty talk spill through his lips. 

I can feel my pussy soaking through my flimsy panties making me rub my thighs together to gain some stimulation without undressing completely. 

I watch several more minutes of Carlos’s live before he moves onto another subscribers comment which has me slightly disappointed yet I used the time to slip my hand into my sleep shorts letting my fingers lightly trace over the lips of my pussy before slipping my fingers into my folds finding myself completely soaked and ready. I lightly start playing with my clit moaning softly while still keeping an eye on the way Carlos is stroking his cock. 

As the live continues on for another 20 minutes Carlos’s voice drops into a slightly deeper tone making it clear he was getting close to cumming. I can feel my orgasm approaching and when he moans for us to “cum together” I can feel hitting the brink of my first orgasm before it slowly slips away leaving me frustrated while watching Carlos cum all over himself. I moan softly watching him paint his own body while listening to the harsh moans and grunts falling past his lips making me wish I was there making him feel good. Even if I truly has no idea what I was doing.

Carlos stuck around for a few more minutes on live before he said his goodbyes and ended the live. 

I quickly exited out of the app and turned over falling asleep once again sexually frustrated. I’m not sure why I can’t bring myself to finish but it’s becoming frustrating. 

When I wake up in the morning I turn over to see I have a notification from onlyfans which has me slightly confused but when I see Carlos’s name I’m brought back to last night when I impulsively subscribed to Carlos. I assume it was just letting me know he had posted a new video but when my eyes adjusted and I read it properly I see that he had sent me a private message. I instantly feel my stomach drop but I still open the message all to curious to see what such a man like him had to say to someone like me. 

“I sweet girl, I saw you are a new subscriber and a first time viewer of my live! I just wanted to say welcome and that I hope you enjoy the exclusive content. If you have any requests or questions you think I might be able to answer don’t be too shy, just reach out! I hope you have a beautiful day, or night depending on where you are located”

When I read the message I smile softly. He seems like a sweet guy. While I do find it a little strange that he decided to reach out I did think it was thoughtful to message each new subscribers. I quickly close out the app not replying back with anything. I get on with my day completely forgetting about my new dirty little secret. 

As the week passed I continued watching all of Carlos’s content while joining lives when I had the time. I had even bought a vibrator and while it was a bit too much for me to handle most of the time there was also times where it was all I could use to feel good. I had still yet to make myself cum which at this point feels like a complete joke. I had even made an appointment with my woman doctor to see if something was wrong with me.

That appointment is what lead me to this moment. Me staring at the private messages between Carlos and I. 

I stare at the now sent message asking Carlos if he possible add any advice on getting over the fear of cumming. 

“Hi I’m Y/N, and I’m really sorry this is by far the silliest thing I have ever done but I fear I am shit out of luck on any options. In the sweet little message you sent me several weeks back you mentioned asking any questions we may have and I have a weird one. So I’m in my early 20s and I have yet to experience an orgasm so I assumed something was wrong with me and my doctor informed me that nothing was physically wrong with me but I have some kind of fear of ‘letting go’ so I guess my question is do you have any advice on getting over it?”

I sat and kept rereading the stupidest thing I’ve ever done over and over again.

“I’m so sorry you don’t have to answer that. I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

After the second message is sent off I completely turned my phone off too embarrassed to 

even continue acknowledging this moment. I ended up completely my homework for the rest of the week before I finally walk back to my phone turning it on hoping on everything Carlos had chosen to ignore the silly message. 

When I realized there was no reply I let out a soft sigh before opening the Kindle app on my phone and reading before I got too tired which had me turning over and falling asleep for the night.

When I wake up the following morning I grab my phone and when I see the notification from Carlos my stomach instantly drops knowing he had seen the silly little message I bombarded him with. 

“Hi sweet girl! I’m sorry to hear about the little problem you’re struggling with. I’m happy you are healthy but I think the word of advice I have for you is, find someone you’re comfortable with. Sometimes for your first time it’s better with a person than alone. Sometimes it helps to have someone do the work so you can’t subconsciously slow down when you’re close. Also please never apologize it was not a silly question at all and I could see how you thought I would be able to help. I do have to ask and you can completely ignore if you feel I have overstepped but can you feel an orgasm approaching or does it just feel like pleasure that kind of leads nowhere?”

I sit there and I reread the message multiple times making sure this man really chose to keep the conversation going.

“Hi, yes I can feel the pleasure and I can also tell I’m approaching an orgasm but anytime I get to the edge it’s like I mentally run away from it”

I hit send not giving myself time to second guess my decision. When I got out of bed and continued getting ready for class I hear my phone ping but I ignore it assuming it was for one of my classes but 20 minutes later when I’m all showered I check to see Carlos was actually the reason my phone had ringed. 

“Ya, I definitely think you need to find a partner you are comfortable with who can help talk you through it or even bring you to it themselves. I have a feeling you’re not allowing yourself to fully relax and enjoy it. Not that I think I am someone who will be able to cum but I plan to go live in roughly 12 hours, if you’re available please join and I’ll give it my best shot”

I smile at the message softly. While I knew Carlos wasn’t gonna be able to make me cum tonight I thought it was sweet he wanted to try even if it was through a stream where plenty of other people would be watching. 

“I’ll be there tonight”

I reply back before getting back out of bed and finishing getting ready for class. The day felt like it continued to drag on far longer than normal. I have no idea if it’s because I had 3, 2 hour long classes or if it was because all I could think about was Carlos’s messages, leaving me slightly dampening my panties all throughout the day. 

By the time I got home I needed to take another shower wanting to clean myself of the sticky feeling between my thighs. I knew I had roughly two hours before Carlos was planning to go live so I spend that time busying myself with dinner and reading my book knowing I would probably be too exhausted to try and read it later in the evening when Carlos was done. 

When 9pm rolled around I get a notification letting me know Carlos has gone live. I instantly pick up my phone but slightly hesitate not wanting to feel so desperate about he situation but at this point, I/m far passed that. I mean for fucks sake I decided to privately message some random hot Spanish pronstar thinking he would be able to cure my weird issue. 

When I open the live I find Carlos sitting in his usual spot which must be some kind of office setup, but unlike normal instead of Carlos already stroking his cock he was sitting there in some grey sweats and a tightly fitted white tee making me clench my thighs together just by looking at him. 

“Good evening guys, or morning depending on where you are. Actually where is everyone watching from right now?” Carlos asks after a few seconds of silence. I hesitate answering the question finally I decide to just respond with Madrid. 

I see a small smirk cross Carlos’s face and while I doubt it had anything to do with me I can’t help but let the delusions creep in slightly. When I start hearing keys clicking on Carlos’s computer I can’t help but watch on slightly confused before I see a small chat box pop up.

“You didn’t tell me you were so close, I would’ve offered to fix your problem this morning after my run”

I see read the message and I can’t let the wide eyed expression I make. While I know he’s just doing his job and being flirty I can’t lie and say it isn’t working. 

“You never asked… but if I remember correctly I was promised an orgasm or my money back”

I reply back lightly teasing the entire situation. When I can tell Carlos’s eyes flicker to the message I can tell the moment he fully read it a small chuckle escapes his little mid sentence.

“Some of you guys have quite the sense of humor,” Carlos teases with his words making it seem like the chat itself was what had distracted him but him and I both knew the truth.

“I don’t seem to remember this promise however if I don’t make you cum tonight I will give you a year free on here”

When I read the message I smirk softly thinking about it. He is this confident he was gonna have me cumming for him that he was willing to lose money over it. 

“A bit cocky no?”

“I’m just confident”

Carlos has quickly replied before turning his full attention back to the live show where he spent the next few minutes telling us about his day before someone sent in a small tip with a comment saying to “take off your shirt please.”

Carlos gave a small smirk before saying “only cause you said please” before pushing his share back and standing up letting us see how low the sweats were truly sitting, before slowly starting to lift his shirt giving up a small strip tease before discarded his shirt somewhere else in the room. 

As the live continued I had eventually lost all my clothes leaving me soaked and naked with my phone in my left hand. I can feel my clit throbbing under my fingertips everytime I graze my clit. Carlos is now down to his boxers teasing his cock through the thin fabric. I can see his bulge is clearly there letting the rest of the viewers know he was just as turned on as the rest of us. Reading some of the comments I can’t help but feel a sense of jealous when I see some of the girls telling Carlos that they had already cum and he hadn’t even stroked his cock properly. I have yet to decide if I would rather have my problem or cumming too fast and missing the good parts. 

Either way I see Carlos’s smirk grow at a few of the comments while he tells it was time. Which had him slowly standing up before hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his black briefs before slowly pulling them down making his hard cock slowly drag down before it quickly popped up revealing his hard uncut cock. I watch as he drops his briefs the rest of the way down his legs before gripping his cock and sitting back down in the chair. 

I watch as he slowly starts teasing his cock while starting to give some soft instructions for how we should be playing with our pussy. 

“Slowly run your fingers through your pussy,” Carlos says while staring firectly at the camera making it feel like he was talking directly to me. 

I follow each of his instructions and have even brought out the small vibe I had purchased trying to relax my body enough to allow myself to cum. I could tell Carlos was getting close to cumming by the way his breath was starting to grow faster and his stroking started to become a bit rougher but also he was needing to take more breaks trying to edge his cock as long as possible. 

“You close baby” 

I see Carlos send out a quick message to me making me smile softly knowing he was still thinking about me even though there was at least 100 different girls. 

“Yes”

Which isn’t a lie, I can feel myself on the edge of a big orgasm. When Carlos reads my message he instantly starts speeding his stroking up while giving us his signature count down.

“5… You have been such a good girl for me tonight,” Carlos counts making my pussy clench at his words.

“4… I know you’re close baby. Keep begging for it,” Carlos continued making me whimper softly at the teasing words knowing I was right on the edge of my first orgasm. I can feel my breathing pick up while I listen to Carlos’s grunts and moan start to grow louder.

“3… Just keep holding it a little longer baby. I promise it’s gonna feel so good,” Carlos teases while letting out a loud grunt while his thighs start to shake.

“2… Almost there baby!” Carlos encourages while letting out a shaky breath.

“1… Cum for my baby,” Carlos grunts out while jerking his cock at full speed before grunting loudly and starting to shoot his cum all while I rub my clit harder trying to jump over the edge I seem to be suck on.

Watching Carlos cum was one of the hottest things I’ve seen in awhile because for once watching his live I genuinely feel like it was all for me. I can feel my pussy clenching while also trying to relax enough to allow myself to cum. 

By the time Carlos was done spilling his cum all over his stomach and chest I can feel the once so intense pleasure slowly start to slowly away making me whine at the feeling.

“No! No! No!” I whisper shout to myself while rubbing my clit even harder trying to bring myself back to the edge. When I realize it’s a lost cause I turn off my vibrator and throw it across my bed in frustrations. 

I must have missed Carlos logging out for the night suring my small tantrum thrown in pure frustrations, because next thing I know I hear my phone ping making me look down to see Carlos had messaged me. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“I’d love to say amazing but I now have a soaked pussy and nothing to show for it”

I reply back too frustrated to even care if I sounded pathetic.

“Sweet girl, you’re LYING!”

“No, I was there, I was so close I could taste it and then POOF it was gone. It slipped away so slowly it mocked me”

“I was being for real earlier, your subscription really will be on me. But also, you said Madrid? If I give you my number would you want to chat a bit? Maybe even go out sometime if you’d want.”

When I stare at his reply I can’t help but feel a hot feeling start to grow deep in my belly again. 

“I wouldn’t mind getting to know you more too! X (xxx) xxx-xxxx”

I send my number before setting my alarm for tomorrow and turning over to go to sleep when I hear my phone ping with a text notification. 

I grab my phone again hoping to see Carlos’s name and when I do I feel a soft smile spread across my face. 

When I open the message I see Carlos had sent me a selfie clearly in his luxurious bathroom more than likely getting ready to shower. 

“Hi!”

It was a simple message but with the selfie attached I can’t help but feel a small heat grow in my belly. I quickly turn on my side table lamp before getting myself all set up to send another selfie back. 

Given I hadn’t gotten dressed I pull my blankets over my chest before snapping a quick selfie hoping I looked good enough. 

The picture of me with a small pout on my face while my hair laid around my head making it look thicker than normal. I quickly sending it with a matching hello message. 

When my phone doesn’t notify me right away I assume Carlos was either showering or now going to bed himself but after 10 minutes of tossing and turning letting my mind race about what had happened tonight when my phone pings again. 

“God, you’re beautiful. I really can’t believe I wasn’t able to do it. A bit humbled in my abilities if I’m being honest.”

Carlos replies making my cheeks heat at the compliment before making a small giggle fall from my lips at the latter statement. 

“Thank you, you’re quite beautiful as well and given some of the comments, you have nothing to feel bad about. I really think something is just wrong with me.”

I reply back making me sign feeling like its all a lost cause at this point. 

“Nothings wrong with you. I really just think you need to find someone who is able to relax you enough for you to cum.”

“I mean probably but given that I’m in a completely new country surrounded by men I can barely communicate with due to being quite terrible with Spanish it makes it a bit difficult.”

“Let me take you out then. I can introduce you to some of my friends. Both women and men, I’m sure it can be quite lonely being somewhere you don’t know many people.”

I smile at Carlos’s reply but hesitate to take the offer not knowing if hanging out with the hot pornstar I found on Twitter a month or so ago would be such a good idea. But knowing I’m only young once I realize in order to live my life to the fullest I have to take chances. 

“I’d like that, just send me where to meet you guys and I’ll be there!”

“I can’t wait to meet you! When I finalize details I’ll send them your way.”

It all felt a bit insane and like the start of an insane movie, I guess time will only tell if its some insane romcom or a terrible horror movie where the stupid naive girl gets eaten alive by the serial killer and while I have deemed Carlos nice enough you truly never know. 

For the rest of the week Carlos and I continued to get to know each other and by the time Friday rolled around I felt comfortable enough to meet Carlos face to face for the first time. He had sent me the time and place to meet him at and had told me that we would then spend the next few hours bar hopping. 

When 10pm rolled around I ordered myself an Uber and waited for it to arrive. I took 2 quick shots knowing I needed to loosen up a little. When I feel the Tequila hit my stomach I notice my driver was pulling up which had me grabbing my purse and heading out the door. 

During the car ride I feel my nerves start to grow but I do my best to relax but my the time I see the first bar we were going to my hands were shaking slightly in nerves. I quickly hop out of the car and quickly scan my surrounding when my eyes spot Carlos talking in a small group of friends. He was wearing a fitted white tee and a pair of dark wash jeans and had yet to spot me. 

I slowly make my way over to the group and when I’m a few feet away Carlos looks up and spots me and as soon as we make eye contact his face lights up in a bright smile. 

“Guys, this is Y/N! This is my friend I wanted you guys to meet,” Carlos says making the small group of 5 people turn to look at me with smiles on their faces. Carlos quickly introduces me to all his friends before he pulls me in for a casual side hug. 

“You look gorgeous,” Carlos mumbled softly in my ear making me smile. 

“You clean up nicely,” I tease while placing a teasing hand on his chest before pulling away and walking with the group towards the entrance. 

When we get inside the busy bar Carlos quickly pulls me with him and his friends towards the bar where he ordered everyone a round of shots. I knew I was moving quickly on my shots but when a hot man buys you a drink, its okay to indulge. (Use this advice with your own caution)

I quickly take my shot with the group before Carlos is asking me what I’d like to drink. I tell him to surprise me and he just smiles before ordering 2 drinks. I’m not sure what he got me but when it arrives I can tell it’s something fruity. 

As the night continues the drinks keep coming and by the third bar we stopped in Carlos and I were both drunkenly stumbling over out feet. At some point we find ourselves in a dark corner of the bar staring at each other. 

“Come home with me tonight,” Carlos slurs making me smile but shake my head no.

“When we’re more sober,” I reply back making Carlos groan but nod his head in agreeance. 

We fall into a comfortable silence while just staring at each other for a few seconds before Carlos’s eyes flicker down to my lips making my cheeks heat. 

Carlos starts coming closer before he stops himself and asks, “Can I kiss you?” I nod my head which has Carlos closing the gap almost instantly and crashing his lips on mine making me whimper into the kiss before fully kissing him back. 

When Carlos pulls me closer by my waist I let out a small gasp making Carlos plunge his tongue into my mouth and tangling it with mine. I allow myself to relax into the kiss pulling Carlos even closer by his neck. 

When we finally pull away both Carlos and I are gasping for air while I notice his lips are slightly glossed over from our spit as well as swollen. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Carlos states while staring me directly in the eye. I feel my cheeks heat at the compliment but it has me standing on my tippy toes to steal another soft kiss from him. 

“Thank you! And thank you for tonight, I’ve been needing to get out and meet new people who aren’t in my classes,” I tell him with a soft smile making me smile back at me. 

“Thank you for coming tonight! I’m glad you had a good time,” Carlos tells me while guiding us towards the exit marking it the end of our night. 

“I’ll see you again soon yes?” I question hopefully.

“Yes, I’d like to take you to coffee sometime, just us,” Carlos says making me smile and nod. 

“I’d like that Carlos,” I tell him letting him pull me in for a hug.

“Let me pay for your ride home,” Carlos states making me shake my head but I can see him grabbing his phone out and handing it to me to put my address in.

“It’s okay Carlos, you’ve done more than enough for the night,” I try pushing his phoen away but when he insists I grab it and quickly type in my address and ordering myself the cheapest Uber. 

Carlos waits with me while the car is coming and when we see the black car pull up tot he curb Carlos quickly pulls me back in for another drunken kiss before opening the door to the car for me and letting me climb into the car.

Over the next week or so Carlos and I have been hanging out almost daily. Between coffee runs and dinners we have been able to build quite the friendship. Tonight was gonna be the first time I was going to his house for a movie night. While we haven’t explicitly agreed to do anything tonight I think there’s a mutual understanding that something could happen tonight. 

After we ate the take out Carlos and I find ourselves cuddled up on the couch throwing on a movie that looked good. Midway through the movie I feel Carlos’s hand resting on my thigh slowly start moving up making my breath hitch slightly.

When I look over to Carlos he’s already staring at me. 

“Is this okay?” Carlos asks softly making me blush and nod my head. I could already feel the heat in my lower belly start to build letting me know that Carlos was clearly turning me on. 

Several more minutes pass when I feel Carlos’s hand slowly moving up a little higher and when I feel his hand grazing the end of my shorts I can’t help the small whimper that falls from my lips when Carlos’s pinky sneaks into my shorts grazing the edge of my already wet panties. 

“More please,” I finally speak up making Carlos remove his hand entirely. Before I can protest Carlos is speaking up, “Take your shorts off.”

I waste no time standing up and pulling my shorts off and before I can sit back in my spot Carlos is pulling me into his lap so my back is resting against his chest. He grips my thighs and spreads my legs letting my legs rest on either side of his thighs exposing me to the room. 

“Is this okay?” Carlos whispers in my ear.

“Yes,” I reply back while grabbing his right hand and pulling it closer to where I want him. 

“Relax for me, just lay back and enjoy yourself,” Carlos tells me before he finally brings his fingers to the edge of my panties where he started teasing my pussy through the fabric of my panties. Feeling Carlos’s fingers grazing my pussy lips has me whimpering softly even just from the teasing I know I’m starting to soak through the fabric of my panties. 

“Fucking soaked for me already,” Carlos says before letting his fingers find my clit and giving it a teasing rub through my panties before he’s pulling them to the side and letting his fingers explore my soaked folds. 

“Fuck Carlos,” I moan loudly when he finds my clit and starts rubbing circles making my thighs start to shake slightly from the intense pleasure. 

“Does it feel good baby?” Carlos questions making me moan loudly while nodding my head. When I feel Carlos slip a finger into my soaked pussy I let out a shaky moan that quickly turns into a lous gasp when he starts teasing my G-spot. A spot I had yet to be able to find myself and Carlos was able to find it so quick. 

“More,” I gasp out when I feel myself starting to get closer to the edge. Carlos instantly sinks another finger deep into my pussy with using his thumb to teasing my clit. 

“Carlos, so good,” I moan loudly feeling myself growing closer and closer to the edge. 

Carlos speeds up his actions on my pussy making me throw my head back closing my eyes and moaning loudly. 

“You got this, cum for me,” Carlos whispers in my ear making me whimper loudly feeling my orgasm fastly approaching. 

“Fuck,” I start chanting while gasping for air feeling myself closer to the edge than ever before. But then all off the sudden I feel it starting to creep away and if I wanted to fake it, like normal Carlos doesn’t allow it because he senses the change making him speed up his fingers even faster making me moan loudly. 

“No! No. Noooo!” I whine because I feel it slowly creeping away even with Carlos’s skilled fingers. When he realizes its a lost cause he quickly stands up with me in his arms while he pulls me down the hall and into his room where he drops me down on the bed and instantly climbs between my legs and attaching his mouth to my clit making me whimper at the feeling.

“You’re not leaving until you fall apart for me,” Carlos says while looking me directly in the eye before attaching his mouth back to my clit as well as slipping two fingers deep into my pussy. It was clear he was moving quickly knowing I was still close to cumming if he worked hard enough.

“Feels so good,” I moan when I feel him start pumping his fingers directly into my G-spot.

Carlos not only had talented fingers but he also had a talented mouth because it didn’t take long for me to be on the edge again. This time I allowed my eyes to close and my hands to tangle into his hair relaxing my body as much as possible. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” I start moaning when I feel the edge fastly approaching and instead of it running away I feel myself falling over the edge leaving me to let out a loud scream at the intense pleasure. Carlos only speeds up his fingers throwing me into a second orgasm almost instantly. 

“Fuck, look at pretty you are when you cum for me,” Carlos says while detaching his mouth from my pussy but making sure to keep fucking my pussy through my second orgasm. 

I’m a bit dazed and overstimulated which has Carlos slipping his fingers from my pussy and walking towards the bathroom and when he came back he had a warm rag in his hand that he used to clean me down. 

“Thank you,” I whisper when he comes back into the room laying down with me. 

“No, thank you for trusting me,” Carlos says while pulling me into his chest making my thigh rub against his hard cock. When I look down Carlos just shakes his head.

“Tonight is for you, next time,” Carlos tells me making me smile softly knowing he planned for this to happen again.

“Was it everything you wanted?” Carlos teases in a sweet tone.

“Yes, far more intense than I thought it would be,” I admit making Carlos smile and nod before placing a soft kiss on my lips.

“Will you stay here tonight?” Carlos questions making me nod my head and sink further into his warm hold.

-------

Send in request if you want to see more of them!

[stvrnrock]

‘Mrs sturniolo.’

Warnings.-smut, p in v, virginity loss, making out, unprotected sex, breeding kink, pet names (baby, my love, mr and mrs, ect.) just heavy smut, and fluff.

In which you and Chris have a busy wedding night ahead of you.

the wedding was perfect, everything you could’ve imagined. You weren’t one for attention you hated having eyes on you. You were an introvert and Chris got embarrassed easily. But you both decided on a nice small yet big wedding and it was beautiful. You felt like a princess in your white wedding dress, even though Chris said he’d never cry at his wedding, he wanted to break down and cry like a baby the second you started walking down the aisle.

After a beautiful reception, it was normal all the traditions—the first dance, cake cutting, bouquet throwing, the garter toss which was very awkward with your parents and his watching. You two mingled and danced for a while. Finally everyone started clearing out which gave you and Chris an excuse to leave.

and now your here, at a hotel near the airport because the two of you have an early flight to Italy tomorrow morning for the honeymoon. Once the two of you made your way into the elevator he clicked the top floor—75 you gently put the room card into his front pocket before leaning into his body. Chris’s arms immediately wrapped around around you.

“Are you tired?” He said softly, hus lips grazed your ear as he spoke gently. You shake your head as you look up at him. “No these heels are killing me though and my dress is so hot.” You say softly, letting your hands drift up and down his chest feeling the smooth material of his tux under your palms.

“I bet hon.” He said softly, his lips gently pecking yours his hands moving up and down your waist. “S’ worth it though hm? Mrs sturniolo.” He breathes out almost in awe just saying. “My beautiful sweet wife.” He murmured pressing his lips to yours once again.

Just as the kiss started to get heated the elevator doors opened. You were only on the 30th floor two young girls stepped in they looked young.

“wow Are you a princess!?” One of the little girls exclaim as her big brown eyes stare up at you. A warm smile forms on Chris’s face as he looked between the little girl and you. “I kinda am.” You say softly as you shift your attention from Chris to her. the other little girls spoke up excitedly. “And he’s a prince look he’s a handsome prince!” She squealed out.

“Handsome I wouldn’t say all that.” Chris chuckled out as he looked at you. “But you are your so cute!” The blue eyes girl exclaimed, the other little girls brown eyes trailing up and down your figure. “Are you a princess and a prince?” She says soflty her child like innocence melting yours and Chris’s hearts.

Chris nod slowly and grabs ahold of your hand. “We are and-“ just as he was gonna finish the elevator doors opened on the 50th floor. The two little girls frowned before stepping forward. “Bye bye prince and princess we gotta go to mommy and daddy.” The blue eyed girl spoke up before taking her sisters hand the two quickly running off.

You gently sigh and look up at him as I melt into his arms. “I want one.” Your murmur out which gets a chuckle out of Chris. “Well it’s our wedding night so maybe hm?” He says softly which makes you tense—your terrified of finally losing your virginity, you know your ready as well as Chris is but it sounds like it’s gonna hurt his literal dick is gonna be—ding!

——————————————

less than thirty minutes later all the roses on the bed were sprung across the room some sticking to you as you and Chris sloppily made out. “Chris be careful with my dress.” You scold quietly as he struggled with the zipper, his lips still sloppily pressing against your jaw. “Fuck can you just stand up I can’t get it.” He groans out.

once you stood up he gently unzipped the dress and you stepped out. White lace, white goddamn lace you were trying to kill this man weren’t you. “Fuck.” Is all he managed to get out before your back on the bed and he’s crashing his lips into yours.

“My Wife hm?” He groans out his hands moving up your bare stomach to cup your breast covered by the white lace. “Cmon y/n say it, say your my wife.” He pleaded quietly pulling away from your neck to look down at you.

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You breathe out, feeling his thumb brush across your hard nipple covered by your bra. “Yeah your my wife hm? Fuck I can’t believe your mine, all mine.” He murmured out before pecking your lips.

Before you know it his suit is off and he’s left in his boxers. He quickly crawled back ontop of you pressing sloppy kisses all over your face. “So pretty fuck y’ looked so pretty all night baby.” He mumbled out letting his hand travel down your body, teasing the edge of your panties.

“Chris.” You breathe out fluttering your eyes closed as his hand moved under your panties finding your wet folds and running his index finger through them. “Shit y’ so wet f me.” He let out slight groan his boxers feeling too tight on him.

You move your hips trying to urge him to do more but he pulls away the whine you almost let out dying in your throat as he tugged your panties down. “Shit please baby please I just gotta be in you.” He murmured out kissing your lips. “Y’ don’t have to feel pressured but I know I’m ready.”

You bite down on your lip before hesitanlty nodding and shifting under him. “It’s gonna hurt Chris I’m scared.” You whisper out looking up at him. “Hey hey trust me baby, we’re married I know that’s not an excuse but I’m ready if you are we don’t gotta do anything just because it’s our wedding night and your husband is so hard his dick feels like it’s gonna fall off.” He mumbles out earning a little giggle for you.

“Plus I’m pretty sexy you gotta admit that I am irresistible baby.” He says dramatically as he moves his hand to your face brushing his thumb on your cheek. “Yes yes you are very sexy.” You let out a sigh your giggles dying down before you nod. “Okay I trust you.”

And that’s all that Chris needed. He quickly got on his knees and tugged his boxers down, his dick springing up as he stroked it a little and ran the tip through your folds. “Fuck they have lube over there if we need it.” He mumbled out not wanting to get up.

He grinned and brought his hand to your face holding his palm up to your mouth. “Spit f’me.” He murmured, you complied spitting intk his hand and watching as he rubbed it into your folds eliciting a whine from you. “Yeah? Mmm that feel good.” He murmured out pressing his tip to your entrance.

Your hand grasped at his bicep the second his tip got in—already feeling an uncomfortable stinging sensation. “Chris Chris Chris it hurts.” You choke out your face twisting into discomfort. “Fuck baby y’ so tight fuck I know shhh, m’sorry so so so sorry.” He breathed out.

He pushed In a little deeper letting out a groan. You immediately ler out a choked whine shaking your head and digging your nails into him. “Chris I can’t it hurts.” You whine out arching your back. His hand gently slided up and down your waist before moving to cup your face. “I know honey, s’ okay I promise it’ll feel good…I think.” He mumbled out definitely not doing good at reassuring—hell he barely knew what he was doing.

by the time he was all the way in it felt like your lower body was on fire it hurt so bad. He pressed his forehead to yours sighing as he looked at the discomfort on your face. “is it feeling a little better yet?” He mumbled out his lips brushing against yours. You immediately shake your head, your hand that was firmly digging into his bicep moving to his chest.

He gently takes your hand and looks at the ring on it smiling proudly before looking on your face. “S’ okay y/n, fuck my perfect girl—my wife.” He murmured out kissing your knuckles. He slowly rocked his hips eliciting a whine from you but he continued the slow pace his eyes shutting as he dropped his forehead to your shoulder. “Ohhhh mhm fuck.”

You let out a series of whines and moans—the pain slowly turning into pleasure suddenly that feeling of being stabbed turning into an almost good sensation. Your body relaxed as you pressed your cheek to the side of his head letting out a breathy moan as he sped up the pace.

“Yeah that feel good hm?” He murmured roughly into your ear

You nodded wuickly your head digging into the pillows with each thrust your eyes rolling back as you let out loud moans. “Chris Chris Chris Chris!” You chant out feeling his thrusts somehow speed up even more making the hotel bed creak and slam into the wall.

He let out a loud groan shifting to where he was on his knees making him go even deeper as he held your hips tightly. “Fuck fuck gonna cum hm? Cum all over my cock?” He growled out as his thrusts became sloppy.

Your hand moved between your legs rubbing your clit rapidly as you arched your back your eyes rolling back. That knot in yohr stomach threatening to snap. “Gonna fill you up fuck.” He groaned out. “Make you a mama hm? Y’ want my cum in you?” And with that you snapped

Your walls clenched around him spamming around his cock and with a few more thrusts he came too his milky white cum painting your gooey walls. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” You both chanted out under your breaths.

He fell limp on you your eyes closing as you let the exhaustion take over, same with him.

After a while he sat up and slowly eased his soft cock out of you watching his and your release drip out. “I guess we shower? What the hell do people do after sex?” He commented meekly making both of you giggle.

“I dunno but my legs are killing me.” You breathe out as you prior yourself up on your elbows. “A shower does sound nice though if I can stand.” Both of you let out a small giggle before he swooped you up in his arms kissing you repeatedly.

You let out loud giggles between kisses before finally pulling away. “Okay okay shower time Chris!”

————————————

once the two of you got in the shower you practically turned to butter in his arms—your legs still wobbily and a weird burning sensation still in your lower stomach.

You let out a relaxed sigh once his hands started to massage your scalp. “That feels so good, your already winning best husband.” He chuckled at your words kissing the top of your head “honey this is just the bare minimum just you wait.” Both of you let out a series of laughs melting into eachother as you stood under the comforting warm water.

After a little while of silence you looked up at him, he met your gaze his eyes full of tenderness and love. “I can’t stop thinking about those little girls.” You say softly. He gently nodded and pressed his forehead to yours.

“One day we’re gonna have little munchkins like that running around hm?” He says softly letting his lips brush against yours

You nod a fond and longing smile forming on your face. “I’m excited.” You say softly

“Me too, yknow having a mini y/n running around would be a lot to handle.” He teased gently letting his hands run your wet waist. “We’re gonna have some cool ass kids.” He mumbled out already seeing it.

“Yeah.” You agree softly grinning. “And your gonna be a really hot dad too I can already see it you’d be a sexy dilf.”

He grins at your words and nods letting out a chuckle. “Yeah I cant be a dilf without my sexy milf though.” He murmurs out patting your ass.

———————————

By the next morning the two of you had an exhausting long time at the airport you and Chris’s least favortie place. The flight was nice though you and Chris had seats next to eachother in first class so you ended up napping together.

the honeymoon was a blast filled with so much laughter and—well sex you were getting dick every night. It’s a girls dream, a hot husband, Italy, good food, and getting fucked to stars how could you not enjoy it.

It went by way to fast by the time the two of you got back home to your apartment you already missed it. But you knew you had all you needed right here in your arms—chris. He was sprawled out ontop of you looking at pictures for his instagram post all of them sent in from the photographer you two hired for the wedding. Finally he got it and all his fans got the notification.

Instsgram: Christophersturniolo posted. (Click the link.)

a/n - THANK YOU FOR READING…I will die if this doesn’t do well I’ve been working on this for two days and I’ve been so busy! Anyways show love to my other posts maybe hehe

navigation

Taglist: @sturnsrecord @chrepsi @drewswife @crtlness @matts-sidepiece @tezzzzzzzz @sturnl0ve @sturnschris @vanteguccir @shadowthesim237 @sturns-mermaid (sorry if I’m missing anyone!!)

[myth1cs]

Obedience Through Discipline (Myoui Mina x M!Reader)

Smut; An officer not listening to their superior is a clear sign of disobedience. Luckily nothing a bit of discipline can't fix. Word Count: 3,021

The hard part was already over. Now that you've finished the training phase now you could finally start doing some actual work. You were assigned to officer Myoui Mina. She was the best officer at the station though many people felt bad for you which you didn't understand why at first.

It didn't take long for you to figure out why. She was always someone who was very stuck up about following the rules. Every mistake you made was followed by a scolding by Mina on why what you did was wrong. While yes you did believe that this line of work didn't have room for mistakes you still felt like she was being too harsh on you.

Things only got worse when she became a sheriff only after a few months since you were partnered with her. Even though time after time she had clearly expressed her disdain for you she never made an attempt to get you fired. In fact ever since she became sheriff it felt like she was keeping a closer eye on you. And you'd be lying if you said it wasn't making you nervous.

During your break you were sitting in your patrol car alone since your partner Nayeon decided to have her break inside. While you were eating your lunch you heard a knocking on your window. You looked up and saw that it was none other than sheriff Mina.

You rolled down your window and greeted her. "Hello sheriff Mina. Can I help you with anything?"

"You know about the parade happening downtown next week right?"

"Of course, what about it?"

"Well Ryujin got injured in the line of duty yesterday and the doctor said she wouldn't be fit to come into work for the next 2 months. So now I need someone to replace her for patrolling the area around the parade. I'm guessing you can see where I'm going with this."

This was a surprise to you. Why was she asking you anyway? There were officers who have been serving longer in the police force which she respected more that would be available to take over Ryujin's shift.

"With all due respect sheriff I believe others may be more qualified than me. Why not try asking officer Kyujin or-"

"I don't think you understand Y/N. This isn't a request, it's an order. You WILL be the one patrolling the area during next week's parade."

You let out a sigh knowing that there was no debating this with her. Once Mina makes up her mind her decision is final.

"Alright sheriff."

You rolled back up your window and Mina walked back towards the station. "Damn brat, who does he think he is trying to tell me how to do my job? Tsk, it's my fault for letting his disobedience go on for too long. I'll have to do something about that."

Breathing a sigh of relief you were glad that the encounter went rather well. Usually she would scold you for trying to talk back for at least half an hour but this time she didn't. Though you wondered if this truly was a good thing or if there was another reason behind Mina's actions. But you didn't ponder on that idea for too long. It was silly to think otherwise... or so you thought.

The week flew by in a blink of an eye. Before you knew it it was the day before the parade. You had to attend a meeting about where everyone would be stationed at the parade and what protocols to follow. You weren't really paying attention to Mina's speech though. Not like your role was rather complicated. Just simply patrolling the perimeter, if you see anything suspicious you were to report it.

"Y/N! Y/N!"

Mina's yelling took you out of your thoughts.

"Wh- what happened?"

The whole room had gone silent. Everyone simply stared at you without saying a word. Mina walked towards you and you felt your heartbeat fasten. You felt like your heart was going to explode or that you would faint from nervousness at any moment.

"You think you're too smart for this huh?" Mina said with a mocking tone.

"N- no I would never-"

"Meet me at my office."

Mina walked back to the front of the room. The tension was thick in the air. Everyone paid attention to Mina, everyone was too scared to look away from Mina.

The meeting wasn't supposed to go on for too long. But it felt like it went by in just a few seconds while also feeling like it went on for 5 hours. Everyone avoided you as they left the room. You followed Mina to her office, hands sweating, and your heart was beating so loud you thought everyone in the building could hear it.

Mina unlocked her office door and walked in. Your legs didn't want to move forward. Was it fear? But what were you afraid of? Losing your job or was it something else?

"What are you waiting for Y/N?"

"Pardon me."

You walked in. Mina closed the door behind you and locked it which made you more nervous. "Sit down." Mina commanded as she pointed at a chair. You obeyed and sat down.

"You know what you did wrong?"

"I uhm-"

Mina sat down on her desk crossing her legs. She reached down to grab your chin and lifted it up to make you look at her.

"Look into my eyes as you say it."

"I wasn't listening."

"Say it with your full chest Y/N. I can't hear you."

"I wasn't listening!"

"Not listening to your superior are you Y/N? How troublesome indeed, will I have to punish you for this?"

"No sheriff, I'll behave from now on."

"Good to hear Y/N."

Mina's voice suddenly dropped.

"Cause this is your last warning."

Mina got off her table and went to sit down on her chair behind her desk. "Now get out."

Without hesitation you got up from your chair and made your way out of her office. As you left her office you breathed out a sigh of relief.

You went to your car to drive home but you suddenly bumped into your partner, Nayeon, in the parking lot.

"So Y/N were you fired?"

"What kind of question is that?! No I wasn't fired!"

"Relax Y/N I just had to know. So what did Mina talk to you about?"

"She just told me that this was my last warning."

"Well if that's all then I guess that's rather tame then."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on Y/N I don't think I need to spell it out for you. Mina doesn't take things like this very lightly. If it was anyone else I'm sure she would've fired them already. And don't you think that she's been scolding you less recently?"

"Yeah I kinda picked up on it. Maybe this is a sign that she's turning over a new leaf."

"We can only hope so. Still the aura I get from even being in the same room as her is terrifying. I swear she gives off nothing but "Look at me the wrong way and I'll kill you" vibes."

"I swear she's knocked a few years off my life already."

"I feel that, anyways good luck with patrol duty tomorrow."

"Good luck to you to Nayeon."

-

The day of the parade came and you, along with a few other officers, were assigned to patrol the parameter and told to report anything deemed suspicious.

The area you were currently paroling didn't have many people. A few people passed by but nothing suspicious was happening in particular.

As you were walking you saw two people in an ally way. It seemed like they were committing an act of vandalism. While you were ordered to report things this wasn't any suspicious activity it was just people being stupid so you decided to just quickly deal with the situation.

Vandalism isn't something that you would arrest someone for in all honesty it was just a small misdemeanor but realized these were the same people you've had run-ins with these people before. At this point they were just begging for a prison sentence. The sentence for something like this was only up to a year so you didn't feel too bad.

-

Mina put Hwi in charge while she went on her break. For some reason she couldn't shake off the feeling that even though she told you that you were on your last warning you would still not listen to her. She made her way to where you were stationed.

"What the- I give him ONE job and he can't even follow that."

She pulled out her phone and called you. It only rang a few times before you picked up.

"Yes Mina?"

"Where are you?!"

"I'm driving these two people to the station-"

"Damn it you're supposed to report things! Do you even listen to me when I speak to you?!"

"Mina I-"

"I don't want to hear it! Meet me at my office the minute you're off the clock."

"But-" Before you could rebuttal Mina had already hung up.

You knew you were about to lose your job.

-

Once you got back to the parade Mina assigned someone else to stay by your side to make sure that you wouldn't deviate from your job.

The rest of the parade went fine. Nothing major happened that was worth noting. But you couldn't help but wish that it wouldn't end. You weren't prepared to be yelled at by Mina and get fired.

To your dismay the parade ended and so did your shift. You got a good look at yourself in your uniform before you walked to Mina's office knowing this was the last time you would be wearing it.

You had to pull yourself together and muster all your strength and courage to walk to Mina's office. Now you were standing in front of her door and you prepared for the worst.

Putting your hand on the handle and turning it you fully opened the door. Mina was sitting behind her desk sorting some paperwork.

Unsure what to do, you stood at the doorway simply staring at Mina. After a few minutes she looked up and made eye contact with you.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in and take a seat in front of me?"

Without saying a word you walked in and closed the door before you went to sit down in front of Mina not daring to make any sort of eye contact with her.

She looked at you for a few seconds before she went to type something on her computer. It seemed like she was just doing work for the sake of it but you couldn't tell.

Eventually she got up and walked up to her board where she had pinned a few documents. You glanced at the clock and saw that it was about time where most people were headed home. Most officers working at this hour were patrolling the downtown area.

Mina sighed and turned to face you. "It's impossible for you to listen. So what should I do with you?"

Was it a rhetorical question?

"I'd much prefer if I could keep my job, sheriff."

"You're almost at your one year mark. And this marks my third month of having to deal with you as sgeriff. So..."

"Please don't fire me."

"That's not what I asked so I'll ask again, What should I do with you?"

"Uhm"

"Ran out of excuses have you?"

"I never made excuses sheriff."

Mina took a deep breath.

"Do you know why I'm stringent with the rules Y/N?"

"Because this line of work doesn't have room for failure?"

"Well that's not my main reason. Do you know the main reason?"

"I don't, sheriff."

"It's because I don't want to see people hurt." Mina walked over to you towering over you. "Or maybe I should be more specific. I don't want to see you hurt."

Mina reached behind her back and grabbed handcuffs. She danged them in front of you. "But I can't just let this slip by. I'm going to punish you."

The situation seemed to develop so fast you didn't register what Mina just said until she was handcuffing you.

"Sorry I leave the fuzzy handcuffs at home so we'll have to make do with these."

Part of you was hoping she was joking. Was this really happening, were you about to do it with Mina?!

"Don't do this Mina. Th- this isn't right!"

"Don't speak back to me you filthy brat!"

Mina's sudden outburst scared you and made you quickly shut up not daring to try to speak out of term.

"Now be a good boy for my Y/N. Just sit here and accept your punishment."

Mina got down on her knees and started to undo your pants. There wasn't anything you could do but simply watch. Once she took off your pants she ran her fingers along your thigh.

"P- please stop."

"You want me to stop darling? But your body is reacting so eagerly to my touch. Are you sure you want me to stop?"

She wasn't lying, you were yearning for her touch as much as you wanted to deny it. Before you could respond Mina smacked your thigh. It wasn't too harsh but it stung a little.

"But darling, I thought I told you not to speak out. Don't make me remind you again okay?"

"Ow fuck-"

She smacked you again.

"Drop the language."

"Y- yes ma'am."

Mina kissed your thighs while her fingers were rubbing against your clothed aching cock. You wanted this to continue but you knew this was wrong. It's not like this is standard protocol and she didn't even ask if you were okay with it. Yet you still couldn't help but be turned on by the given situation.

Even though you denied it your body knew what it really wanted. Shivering every time she ran her finger on your body to your cock hardening it was all too obvious.

She could tell you wanted to say something. "If you want to say something then I'm granting you this opportunity to say it."

"Please"

"Please what darling? Use your big boy words now."

"Suck me off Mina please I'm begging you."

"Begging now are we? Well I'm not entirely convinced yet, maybe you should beg me some more and I'll consider listening to you."

"Mina please, I really want you to fuck me until I can't walk. I want to lose all senses and be at your mercy."

Mina giggled at your statement. "Oh darling if you think that's enough to get me to listen to you you're going to have to try a little harder than that I'm afraid."

"Please fuck me Mina! I only crave your touch, I swear I'll listen to every order you give me!"

Mina rubbed her nose against your clothed cock. "That's more like it darling. However since you've been so disobedient then you'll have to make me cum before I give you any pleasure."

She proceeded to stand up and take off her clothes. Mina made sure to take her sweet time taking off her clothes. She knew it was driving you crazy and you wanted to get up and take her clothes off for her but your hands were handcuffed to each other.

Eventually she stripped down to her bra and underwear. Both were the same colour of pink. Mina sat up on her desk and started to rub her pussy using one of her fingers.

Low moans fell out of her mouth as she pleasured herself. You couldn't do anything but watch. You felt yourself get turned on by watching the scene unfold in front of you.

"What are you waiting for darling? Come and make me cum!"

"My hands are tied."

Mina laughed at your comment "Of course you are darling. But I didn't put a gag on you did I?"

When you realized what Mina wanted you leaned forward and used your mouth to take off her underwear.

"Just like that darling, make this a learning experience!"

You buried your face onto Mina's pussy and shoved your tongue deep into her. Mina wrapped her legs around you tightly cutting off your air supply. "If you want to breathe then make me cum. Or else you'll suffocate between my thighs. Though I'm guessing you'd be okay with that wouldn't you darling?"

Fastening your pace you licked every inch of Mina's delicious pussy. Part of you wished your hands weren't tied so you could grab her boobs. But the current situation would do.

Though you tried desperately you felt yourself losing consciousness and before you knew it everything went black. "Aw did you pass out already?"

Mina unwrapped her thighs that were around your head and started to finger herself. Wet sounds filled the room as she shoved her fingers in and out of herself while her other hand was on her clit.

You were suddenly woken up by the feeling of something splashing on your face. When your eyes adjusted you realized it must've been Mina's cum.

"Oh your awake again darling?"

"Mina what-"

Another smack was given to you.

"What did I say about speaking out of term? And to think I thought about letting you cum. Since you seem to suck at making me cum and suck at listening to orders then I'll let you sit here and think about your actions."

Mina got up and put her clothes back on and you didn't do anything but watch as she started to leave the room.

"Don't worry darling I'll come and get you early in the morning. Till then think about your actions and I might let you cum first thing in the morning!" Mina said as she left the room closing the door behind her leaving you handcuffed to the chair to think about your actions that lead you to this moment.

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

Sorry for not uploading even though I said I would get back on schedule. In my defense I've been reading a really good Lux/Jinx fanfic.

Starring: You Mina, Nayeon (TWICE) Ryujin (ITZY) Kyujin (NMIXX) Hwi (TNX)

[saythenametotheworld]

Long Story Short | n.jm (18+)

Na Jaemin—your best friend, the one person who’d always been there for you, comes to help you back to your feet again. But is it too late to finally see him for what he truly is?

Campus Confessions master list

Genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, smut Pairing: Na Jaemin x afab!reader Warnings: sloooow burn, explicit sexual content Notes: 24k words. Part 5/5 of the Campus Confessions series, but can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to long story short by Taylor Swift. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

playlist: long story short by taylor swift, friends by ed sheeran, clean by taylor swift

The school was packed. Students and visitors crowded the halls, their chatter and laughter echoing off the walls. The international high school science fair had taken over the campus, drawing in visitors and competitors from different schools—and different countries—but you couldn’t care less about any of it.

You checked your phone for the nth time, then sighed, shifting the cold cup of iced coffee in your hands. Your hand had started to numb, and your patience was running thin as you tapped your finger on the cup. The coffee was for Jaemin, something to hold him over until you both could finally leave and get proper food. But he was taking too long.

It was his birthday, and all you wanted was to take him to your favorite pizza place after he finished whatever student council errand had him running around. He had promised he’d be quick, but it had been twenty minutes since.

Just as you were about to text him, a pair of hands grabbed your shoulders from behind. “BOO.”

You jolted, the coffee slipping from your grip. The lid popped off upon impact, ice and liquid splashing onto your uniform. A sharp gasp left your lips as you turned to find Jaemin grinning, completely unbothered.

“Are you kidding me?” You gawked at him, arms lifted away from your body as the cold sank into your shirt. “Jaemin!”

His hands shot up in mock surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t think you’d scare that easily.”

“You jumped me!” You gestured at your now-stained uniform. “And now I’m soaked. Great. Happy birthday to you.”

Jaemin laughed, stepping back just as you raised your hand to smack his arm. “Relax. You can just buy me a new one.”

“Go buy yourself a new one,” you retorted, shoving the half-empty cup into his hand. You huffed, marching past him toward the school gates.

He gulped the remaining contents of the cup and caught up with you, while you tugged at your damp collar, scowling. “You took forever, my hand’s numb, and now I’m freezing.”

“Don’t you have a handkerchief on you, or something?” he asked, unzipping his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“I did have one,” you muttered, standing still as he adjusted his jacket on you and zipped it up. “But some guy needed it, so I gave it to him.”

Jaemin scoffed, shaking his head. “You really shouldn’t be giving out your stuff to just anyone,” he chided, patting your shoulders. “There. You’re good to go.”

The warmth of his jacket surrounded you, chasing away your irritation. It smelled like detergent and something distinctively Jaemin, something familiar. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. Jaemin was always looking out for you and you didn’t think much of it.

Back then, you never really did.

The ceiling stared back at you, dull and lifeless, as your mind drifted aimlessly. Disconnected and meaningless thoughts swam through your mind—old conversations, half-formed ideas, fleeting memories. Until your eyes caught sight of the strip light clinging stubbornly to the edge of the ceiling, with its adhesive peeling away after years of being up there.

Jaemin had helped you put it up when you were sixteen. He’d almost fallen off the ladder, wobbling dramatically while you stood below looking unimpressed with your arms crossed. You’d given him hell about it, calling him useless for something he was doing as a favor. Your mom had scolded you after, shaking her head at how mean you were to a boy who was nice enough to help you out.

The memory made you smile, though it felt distant now. Back then, everything felt light and easy. Your only worries had been how to perfectly capture the grunge aesthetic you wanted for your bedroom.

A knock at the door cut through your musings, making your head snap in the direction of the door. You barely had time to sit up before Jaemin pushed it open, stepping inside like he owned the place.

He took one look at you and sighed dramatically. “It’s 10 a.m. Why aren’t you ready?”

“I am ready.”

He glanced at your bed, then at you—still in pajamas. “No, you’re not.”

“All my stuff’s packed,” you shot back, rising to your feet. “I just need to change and we’re good to go.”

Jaemin sighed but didn’t argue. Instead, he grabbed your bags, hauling them out of your room without waiting for you to catch up. After quickly changing, you followed him outside to where his car was parked at the curb.

Your mom and sister stood by the door, sending you off with a chorus of reminders. “Don’t skip meals,” “Call when you get there,” “Behave yourself.” You nodded along to each of them, half-listening, while Jaemin loaded your things into the trunk.

Then, just like always—like second nature—

You slid into the passenger seat without thinking. You pulled the seatbelt over your shoulder, and Jaemin draped a blanket over your lap just as you reached for the console to connect your phone. A lollipop landed in your palm at the same time you tossed his glasses from the dashboard into his waiting hand.

“The silver one,” said Jaemin, nodding at the other pair of glasses on the dashboard. You took the black ones and swapped them with the silver ones. 

“Thank you,” he chimed, wearing them carefully and showing them to you. “Looks better, don’t you think?”

You grimaced. “It looks the same to me.”

Jaemin deadpanned, shaking his head as he started the engine. “Why do I even bother asking someone with no taste?”

“Excuse me? How dare you?”

Four hours passed with comfortable conversation and music, your voices occasionally singing along to the songs playing through the speakers.

At some point, Jaemin reached for the volume dial, turning it down a notch. “You’re lucky we’re friends,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You raised a brow. “Oh? What did I do now?”

“You put that song in the playlist,” he said, nodding at the stereo like it had personally offended him. “We’ve been over this. It’s a crime against my ears.”

You gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? This is a masterpiece.”

Jaemin shot you a look of pure judgment. “It sounds like a car alarm.”

“You have no taste.”

“And you have terrible taste,” he retorted. “It’s been in all of your playlists since high school. Don’t you get sick of it?”

Scoffing, you skipped to the next song—one you knew he actually liked, though you made a show of sighing as if it physically pained you to do so. “Better?”

Jaemin grinned. “Thank you so much.”

The rest of the drive was uneventful, filled with more playful arguments about music choices, lazy singing, and the occasional comfortable silence. By the time you reached the city, your playlist had nearly looped itself, and Jaemin was humming along without even realizing it.

“You know,” you mused, unbuckling your seatbelt as he pulled up to your apartment, “for someone who ‘hates’ my music, you sure know all the words.”

Jaemin clicked his tongue, feigning annoyance. “Unfortunately, exposure to bad influences does that.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before stepping out of the car. Jaemin parked in front of your apartment building and helped you carry your bags upstairs, unloading them and complaining about how heavy they were. You only scoffed, knowing he was just being dramatic.

“You have dinner plans?” he asked once everything was inside. You shook your head. “You should text the others. Let’s all have dinner together.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” you replied, slumping on your couch.

You could tell he was stalling. Dragging things out with small tasks—checking if the appliances are plugged in, rearranging the shoes by the door, checking his phone without really reading anything. But eventually, he ran out of excuses.

Jaemin stepped toward the doorway, pausing with one hand on the knob. “Are you sure you’ll be fine?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

His expression didn’t change, but you could tell he didn’t buy it. “There’s still a few hours before dinnertime. Don’t you wanna go out and do something?”

“If you’re so worried, why don’t you just hang out with me until later?”

“Oh, I have to take my stuff to the dorms,” he replied, sighing as if he really was considering the idea. “Are you sure you don’t wanna live with the girls? Just so you’re not alone.”

“I’ll be fine, Jaemin.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another like he wanted to say something else. But he didn’t. With one last glance, he gave a small nod and stepped out.

And then, just as the door was about to shut, his head popped back in. “Text me if you need anything.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know.”

Still, he hesitated. He paused briefly by the doorway, giving your apartment one last sweep. Then finally, finally, he walked away. The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was deafening. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Alone again.

You tilted your head back, resting on the backrest of the sofa and staring at the ceiling. It had become a habit at this point, staring at the ceiling and letting your mind wander anywhere and everywhere.

Six months had passed since the accident in Mykonos that left you with a few scars and a broken heart. Six whole months of healing and trying to reconnect with the person that you were before that summer. Seeing a therapist helped for the most part. You were able to talk about what happened, address your questions and confusions, and face the consequences of your actions. But it was useless for the emptiness that followed. The odd feeling of having a hole in your heart but not feeling any sadness or hurt about it. It was just… there.

This emptiness tends to be strong when you are alone. You hated it, but after six months of being a burden, of having people walk on eggshells around you, you couldn’t bring yourself to confide in anyone and tell them you hated being alone.

You stared at the boxes scattered across your living room, the remnants of your hasty move. The idea of doing something productive was almost laughable, but you pushed the thought aside. You were going to unpack. You would. And that would be something.

The process was slow at first as you sorted through the boxes. Old books, some clothes you hadn’t seen in ages, and trinkets you’d forgotten about began to fill the shelves and hang in the closet. It wasn’t the most exciting task, but it was progress.

Eventually, your mind began to wander as your hands kept working. You hadn’t realized how much bigger this new apartment was compared to your last one. It was the same building but the living room felt more spacious compared to your previous unit.

The layout was unfamiliar, and for a moment, you paused, your eyes drifting down the hallway to a door you hadn’t really noticed before. It led to a second bedroom. You hadn’t asked for it when you’d signed the lease—this new place was supposed to be temporary, just for this semester. You’d taken the break from college to heal, to recalibrate after the wreckage of the past summer. Now you were back and a small part of you felt like an alien in an unfamiliar territory. You hadn’t exactly figured out how to balance all of this—your old life and this new version of yourself.

You moved to the second bedroom, setting up the bed with the same care you’d given the first. The window in here was smaller, but it was cozy and had enough space for a few furniture and for moving around. It could be perfect for when your mom comes. Or, maybe it would just be a place for things you never used.

When you finally made it to the living room, the place was looking less like a chaotic mess and more like an apartment. You flicked on the TV, hoping some background noise would distract you from the heavy silence that seemed to follow you around. Sinking back on the plush couch, you entertained yourself with a show you’d been meaning to watch. 

You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until loud, persistent knocks on your door jolted you awake. For a moment, you just stared at the TV, trying to make sense of the time and the situation. Then the knocks came again, this time with such force it sounded like they might break the door down.

Your heart rate quickened. You sat upright, momentarily disoriented, rubbing your eyes. Glancing at the clock, you saw that two hours had passed. You quickly got to your feet, shaking off the grogginess as you reached for the door.

“Who is it?” you asked, turning the knob and swinging the door open.

What greeted you was Jaemin’s panic-stricken face, his phone pressed to his ear, and his eyes wide as if he were on the verge of tears.

“Jaemin? What happened—” Before you could finish, he pulled you into a tight hug, squeezing the breath out of you.

“What’s going on?” you asked, suddenly nervous.

“Oh god, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled, holding you even tighter.

“Jaemin,” you said, trying to push him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “Jaemin, I can’t breathe!”

Finally, he pulled back, hands still gripping your shoulders as he demanded, “Where were you? Why didn’t you pick up?”

You blinked, caught off guard for a moment. You glanced at your phone on the coffee table, still buzzing because he was still calling you on his phone.

“Oh…” you trailed off, feeling suddenly guilty. “I fell asleep. I didn’t hear it.

Jaemin sighed, his shoulders sagging as he stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck. Before he could say anything else, the door swung open again, revealing the worried faces of your friends. The moment they saw you, relief flooded their expressions, and they practically lunged at you, whining and fake-sobbing as they pulled you into a dramatic group hug.

You caught Jaemin's eye. You gave him a quick, questioning glance, discreetly mouthing, “What's going on? Why are they here?”

Jaemin paused, then mouthed back, “This is all your fault.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but before you could protest, your friends were already dragging you back into the apartment, chattering excitedly, leaving Jaemin behind with his amused grin.

Dinner plans had taken an unexpected turn, and now your apartment was filled with the comforting chaos of your friends’ voices, laughter echoing from both the kitchen and living room. Jaemin and Renjun had taken over cooking duties, moving around each other with an ease that suggested they’d done this plenty of times before. You sat curled up on the couch with Karina and Giselle, half-listening to their chatter while keeping an eye on whatever Jaemin was doing near the stove.

“I swear, you almost gave me a heart attack,” Karina huffed, lightly smacking your arm. “Jaemin made it sound like you were unconscious or kidnapped or dead.”

“I was asleep,” you muttered, sinking further into the cushions. “Totally fine. He might’ve overreacted a little.”

“Overreacted?” Giselle scoffed. “You disappeared for hours, didn’t pick up a single call, and this is your first night back. Can you blame us for being a little overprotective?”

You pursed your lips, unsure how to respond to that. You weren’t trying to worry them. It just hadn’t occurred to you that they’d actually be this worried.

“I get it,” Karina said, her tone softer now. “I know it must be exhausting having people hover over you all the time, but you kinda scared us. We’re not trying to be dramatic, we just—” She hesitated. “We don’t want you slipping back into that place.”

You exhaled through your nose. “I was asleep,” you repeated, though your voice lacked conviction this time.

For a while, the conversation drifted to lighter things—Karina complaining about her new professor, Giselle filling you in on a particularly messy situationship she got tangled up in. But in between their stories, your mind wandered. You’d been back for less than a day, and it already felt like there was a spotlight on you. Like everyone was waiting for you to break again.

As Karina started a new story, you took the opportunity to discreetly lean toward her and lower your voice. “Okay, but... why is Renjun here?”

She blinked at you. “Oh. He kinda just... ended up in the group last semester.”

You furrowed your brows. “How?”

“Dunno,” she said, shrugging. “We all started hanging out more, and he just stuck around.”

“Jaemin was the one who pulled him in, I think,” Giselle added. “And then it just happened. You probably didn’t notice ‘cause, well... you weren’t around.”

Right. You hadn’t been around. It was a strange realization—like the world had kept moving while you were frozen in place.

Before you could dwell on it, Giselle suddenly perked up, her voice turning mischievous. “Hey, Renjun,” she called toward the kitchen, loudly enough to grab everyone’s attention. “How’s it feel to make food for the girl you used to like?”

Karina covered a laugh with her hand, while Jaemin snorted under his breath. Renjun, standing by the stove, exhaled slowly and shook his head, giving Giselle a look that was equal parts tired and unimpressed.

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” he muttered, turning to Jaemin instead of dignifying the question with a real response.

Jaemin only smirked, stirring the pot in front of him. “Nope.”

You wanted to sink into the floor. Giselle, clearly entertained, leaned closer to you. “Does it feel weird?” she whispered. “Having your ex-crush make you dinner?”

You shot her a look. “We’re not talking about this.”

“We should talk about this,” Giselle insisted, grinning. “We wouldn’t want things to be awkward. We’re fond of him, you see.”

Karina leaned closer and lowered her voice. “We like him more than Jaemin.”

“I can hear you,” Jaemin interjected, pointing the spatula at Karina.

Thankfully, they didn’t press on the matter. Dinner proceeded smoothly after that, filled with easy conversations, inside jokes, and the occasional teasing at Jaemin’s expense. The warm, comforting energy reminded you of what you had missed—of how much you had needed this.

By the time the meal wound down, everyone was full and content, slumping into their seats as Jaemin and Renjun made a half-hearted attempt to clear the dishes before eventually giving up. With a few reluctant groans, they finally dragged themselves toward the door.

“I expect an actual text back next time,” Jaemin warned, pointing at you as he slipped his shoes on.

You rolled your eyes. “Noted.”

Renjun only gave you a small nod before stepping out, and just like that, the apartment felt quieter. But not for long.

The moment the door clicked shut, Karina and Giselle turned to you with identical grins. “Sleepover,” Giselle announced.

You blinked. “What?”

“We’re staying over,” Karina said, already making herself comfortable on your couch. “You don’t get a say.”

And just like that, the night stretched on, filled with whispered gossip, bursts of laughter, and limbs tangled together as the three of you squeezed into your bed. There was something nostalgic about it—something safe. Maybe it was the way Karina absentmindedly played with your hair, or how Giselle kept making you both laugh until your stomachs hurt.

Either way, by the time sleep finally took over, you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this at peace.

The first day of the new semester felt like walking into an old sitcom set. Same buildings, same people, same scenes playing out with minor variations. Even the air smelled the same, a mix of coffee, freshly printed syllabi, and stress.

Your first lecture was a blur. You spent most of it half-listening, jotting down random notes between doodles, and staring at the clock. Time moved in an odd way—too slow and too fast all at once. Lunch was better, mostly because it required no real thought. You walked through the crowded cafeteria, tray in hand, until you spotted your friends at a corner table. Karina and Giselle were talking, Jaemin was picking at his fries, and Renjun looked relaxed and refreshed.

Jaemin glanced up as you sat down. “Finally. Our esteemed scholar returns from the clutches of education.”

You stabbed a cherry tomato with your fork. “It’s syllabus week. I haven’t done anything.”

“And you still look like you’ve been through war,” Karina teased.

You hummed noncommittally, half-listening as they fell into conversation. Someone mentioned a professor who still hadn’t uploaded the syllabus, then the best study spots on campus, then somehow they were debating the worst seats to get in a lecture hall.

The minutes stretched. The sun outside moved slowly. You took bites of your food at an unhurried pace.

At some point, Jaemin turned to Renjun. “I can’t believe you’re still sitting with us.”

He didn’t even look up from his phone. “I can’t believe I’m still sitting with you either.”

“We adopted him,” Giselle said. “He had no choice.”

Karina leaned back in her chair. “We like him more than you, so he’s not going anywhere.”

Jaemin placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Wow. Right on my face?”

“Renjun doesn’t embarrass us in public,” Giselle pointed out.

“Not yet,” Renjun muttered, glancing at you.

The conversation continued with pointless yet oddly entertaining topics. Someone tried to recall the name of a movie but got it completely wrong. Jaemin made a terrible pun that Karina groaned at but Giselle immediately wrote it down for later use. You laughed a few times without realizing it.

And then, just like that, lunch ended. Trays were cleared, schedules compared, half-hearted complaints about afternoon classes exchanged. 

The next few days passed pretty much the same. Classes, meals, occasional hangouts with your friends. Conversations stretched a little too long, and lectures felt like white noise in the background. It wasn’t bad, just monotonous. The world kept moving, even if you weren’t entirely participating.

Your schedule was light by design. Easing back into normal life was the goal, after all. But normal life turned out to be... dull. You sat through your lectures, watching the professors gesture at PowerPoints that no one was paying attention to, doodling in the margins of your notebook just to stay awake.

Somewhere in the middle of it, you befriended your seatmate, Eric. He was easygoing, quick with a joke, and effortlessly charming in the way some people just were. He had a habit of leaning in when he talked, his voice always carrying a hint of amusement.

“Did you get all that?”

“I think so,” you replied, shrugging.

“Great, can I see your notes?”

You glanced down at your page. A series of unrelated scribbles stared back at you. You slid your notebook over anyway.

“Wow,” he muttered, chuckling. “An abstract artist. Impressive.”

You glanced sideways at him, unable to suppress a chuckle at his comment. You tugged your notebook back. “You asked to see it.”

“You know, I think you might be the only person in this class who doesn’t look completely bored and sleepy,” he mused, lazily spinning a pen between his fingers.

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s an assumption.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “What’s your secret? Other than practicing abstract art in your notebooks.”

“Complete emotional detachment,” you deadpanned.

Eric laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I really really like you.”

You only smiled, assuming he meant it in a general, friendly way.

Meanwhile, Jaemin remained his usual self, looking after you in his own quiet way. He never outright asked if you were okay. He just walked back with you most days, keeping up a steady stream of conversation like he always had.

Today, he was talking about a new café that opened near campus. “They have this matcha croissant that’s supposed to be life-changing,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as you walked. “I heard you girls are already planning a whole trip just to try it.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, glancing at him. “What about you?”

“I mean, I like croissants,” he shrugged. “But I feel like I’ll end up there no matter what.”

You hummed in response. Jaemin didn’t push. Instead, he switched topics, asking if you’d seen the latest episode of the drama you both started last year. You hadn’t.

“That’s tragic,” he sighed. “Now I have to pretend I don’t know what happens every time I talk about it.”

“You could just not talk about it.”

“That’s just impossible,” he said, shaking his head. “You know I don’t have that kind of self-control.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. The week passed before you knew it. 

One evening, after another regular day of classes, you came home feeling drained. You went about your routine—shower, tea, maybe a TV show since it was Friday night. You had a good grasp of your plans for the night, until a simple misstep turned into a disaster.

You weren’t even sure how it happened. Did you trip over the edge of the rug? Lose your footing while stepping into the shower? Either way, one second you were moving, and the next, you were on the floor, hissing as a sharp sting shot up your ankle.

It’s not that bad, you told yourself. Just a little soreness. You managed to get an ice pack for it, and went to bed thinking it would be fine in the morning.

Except, by morning, it wasn’t. You were feverish, and the dull ache had worsened. Even shifting the wrong way sent a sharp pulse through your foot. You tried to get up and walk, but that proved impossible, so you decided to call the first person who crossed your mind.

Jaemin arrived not ten minutes later, equipped with some stuff from the drugstore and a takeout bag.

“What happened?” he asked as soon as he stepped into your bedroom.

“Just a little accident,” you said too quickly. “I’m fine, but it hurts to move.”

Jaemin’s face tightened as he examined your ankle, pressing on it just enough for pain to shoot through, making you wince.

He exhaled sharply. “Yeah, no. We’re going to the ER.”

“It’s not that bad. I just need rest and some ibuprofen.”

Jaemin gave you a look. “You also have a fever. We need to check if you broke a bone or something. I know you hate it, but you’re gonna have to deal with this because, honestly, you’re way too clumsy for your own good.”

The trip to the ER wasn’t exactly eventful, but it was exhausting. You sat through the usual process—check-in, vitals, waiting. When the doctor finally saw you, they examined your ankle, prodded at it, and sent you off for an X-ray, just to be sure.

“Good news, nothing’s broken,” the doctor announced when they returned with your results. “Just a bad sprain. We’ll wrap it up, and you’ll need to stay off it for a few days. But there’s something else. Your bloodwork shows low iron and glucose levels.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“You need to eat healthier,” they said simply, setting the file down. “Skipping meals, not getting enough nutrients. It’s showing up in your results. We’re giving you an IV now, but you should be more mindful of your diet moving forward.”

You exhaled as the nurse set up the IV, already anticipating what was coming. Jaemin, who had been sitting quietly beside you, didn’t say I told you so, but you felt it in the way he glanced at you.

It was only after the doctor left that he spoke. “I called your mom,” he said, casual like it was nothing.

Your head snapped toward him. “You what?”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow. “I figured you won’t tell her so, I did.”

“I was gonna tell her,” you grumbled. “Eventually.”

He didn’t look convinced. Before you could say anything else, your phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced at the screen before handing it over. “That’s her.”

Sighing, you took the call. “Hey, Mom.”

“Oh, honey.” Her voice was warm with relief. “Are you okay? Jaemin said you hurt your foot?”

“I’m fine,” you reassured her. “It’s just a sprain. And some iron deficiency, apparently. No big deal.”

Your mom sighed on the other end. “Sweetheart, you have to take care of yourself. Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “It’s just a sprain. And I’ll eat better, I promise. They gave me an IV. I’m allowed to go home after this.”

A pause. Then, carefully, she said, “I was thinking maybe one of your friends could stay with you for a few days. Just until you’re feeling better?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she added quickly, “It’s just a suggestion. I’d feel better knowing someone’s there with you.”

You blinked. “Mom, I don’t wanna bother them like that.”

“I know, but…” she sighed. “Let me talk to Jaemin, sweetie.”

You glanced at Jaemin before handing the phone back to him. He took it without question, nodding along as your mom talked his ear off. You could only catch bits and pieces—something about making sure you eat, not letting you skip meals, and keeping an eye on your ankle.

Eventually, he hung up and turned to you. “So, good news. You’re not dying. Bad news. Your mom insists someone stay with you for a few days. And—” He paused for dramatic effect. “She volunteered me.”

You gave him a flat look. “You volunteered yourself, didn’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jaemin dismissed. “What’s important is that I am now your temporary live-in nurse. I expect full cooperation.”

You sighed, debating your options, which, realistically, were none. You could protest, but you knew Jaemin. He wasn’t going to leave you alone while you were limping around your apartment. And honestly? Maybe having him around wouldn’t be that bad.

“Fine,” you muttered.

Jaemin nodded. “Okay. I’ll take the couch.”

You shook your head. “No need. I have a spare room you can use.”

“Oh?” he said, pressing his finger to his chin in a thoughtful gesture. “That’s even better.”

You exhaled slowly, rolling your eyes as you shifted to get more comfortable in the hospital bed. Jaemin, without missing a beat, adjusted the pillow behind you, leaning in a bit closer than necessary. You could smell his cologne, fresh, woodsy, and all too familiar.

“I have rules,” you said, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

“Of course,” Jaemin murmured, sounding amused.

You felt his hand brush over your forehead for a second, checking your temperature, but it lingered there longer than usual. You let out a quiet sigh, more content than you'd been all evening. With Jaemin here, maybe things would be okay.

You were only 14 when Jaemin and his family moved in next door. At the time, you weren’t particularly thrilled by the idea of befriending some new kid just because your parents told you to. You were used to being on your own, and you didn’t really feel like spending your weekends babysitting someone. But, as parents do, they insisted, so you reluctantly agreed.

It would be easier if he wanted to be friends with you too. But you could sense that he didn’t. He was curt, somehow a little mean when he talked to you. So, despite your parents’ wishes, you didn’t put in the effort to really get to know him.

That was until one Saturday morning. The sun was a little too bright for your taste, but you went with your family anyway. The hike was supposed to be a fun family outing, the kind where you would all get some fresh air and maybe stop at the lake for some snacks. Jaemin had only just moved in for over a week, and he was quiet, reserved, completely out of place in the familiar group of your family and his own. You didn’t blame him for that, but it didn’t stop you from feeling annoyed when your mom pointed him out and told you to stick by his side.

It didn’t take long for Jaemin to get lost. Not that it was entirely his fault. He was a city kid, and the woods were a different world. He wandered too far ahead, distracted by something, and before long, he was out of sight. That was when you heard him calling out for help.

You should’ve ignored it, honestly. The adults would hear him soon and they’d help. But somehow, you couldn’t just leave him alone. So you went after him, with quick steps as you navigated through the trees, trying to track down the lost kid. You found him standing by a cluster of rocks, looking entirely confused.

“Hey,” you called, catching his attention. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

Jaemin turned to face you, frustration and relief etched in his expression. “I... I guess I took a wrong turn.”

With a sigh, you rolled your eyes, stepping forward. “Come on. I’ll take you back.”

He followed you without a word, your pace steady as you led him back to the group. It wasn’t long before the others found you, and the hike resumed without much delay. But Jaemin stuck to you for the rest of the day. You didn’t mind because he was quiet most of the time, so you didn’t need to talk to him.

After that day, Jaemin kept showing up. At school, he’d sit next to you in class, not because he had to, but because he didn’t know anyone else to sit with. At lunch, ,he would find his way to your table, and you’d have your usual back-and-forth, making jokes and laughing about things only the two of you found funny. He was a little quieter back then, but there was always something comfortable about having him around. You didn’t have to try to impress him, and he didn’t make things awkward.

In high school, Jaemin was the guy you called when you couldn’t reach the top shelf in the kitchen, or when your phone was broken and you needed help figuring out what was wrong with it. When your family’s car broke down on a trip out of town, he was the one who came over with his toolbox and somehow managed to get the engine running again. And when you told him your food cravings at 11 PM, he’d be the one to show up at your door with your favorite late-night snack, laughing about how you were impossible to please.

“Am I your slave? Why do I have to do this for you?” he’d complain, but you knew he didn’t mean it.

Jaemin was dependable, and you had always known that. He wasn’t just that. He was also the guy who could make you laugh even when you wanted to stay mad at him. He was good at cooking, always surprising you with something new in the kitchen. And when he’d show you his latest photos, you couldn’t help but feel proud. He was talented. He always managed to stay humble, even when people around him began noticing just how good he was at everything.

You never really told him he was your best friend. You didn’t need to. The way you bickered and joked around always downplayed the depth of your connection, but you both knew you were each other’s person. It was the kind of friendship that didn’t need constant reaffirmation. The kind that lasted because it was simply there, no effort required.

Now, as you sat on the couch in your apartment, Jaemin sitting nearby while you fumbled through a book you were reading, you couldn’t help but notice how little had changed. Jaemin had grown up, of course, he had. He was older now, more popular, more confident, a little more polished. But underneath all of that, he was still the same guy you’d met all those years ago.

Still the guy who could cook you a meal without breaking a sweat, making your favorite dish like it was the easiest thing in the world. Still the one who was always convenient to have around, no matter the situation. There was something strangely comforting about how much he hadn’t changed. He had grown, sure, but the essence of who he was—the one who showed up without being asked, who willingly and effortlessly took care of everything—was still the same.

Jaemin was annoyingly good at taking care of you. The first morning in your apartment, you woke up to the smell of something warm and savory, your stomach twisting in hunger before you were even fully conscious. When you managed to make your way to the kitchen in crutches, he was already plating breakfast, acting like he’d lived here all his life.

“You’re up,” he said, not even looking up from the pan. “Sit. Eat.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Isn’t this too much for breakfast?”

Jaemin set a bowl in front of you, a perfectly balanced meal that made your usual instant ramen diet look embarrassing. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I thought you already knew that?”

You huffed but didn’t argue, mostly because he was right. And because the food smelled too good to resist.

For the next few days, Jaemin took over your apartment like a man on a mission. Since you couldn’t walk, he made sure everything you needed was within reach. He left water bottles and snacks at your bedside. He helped you move whenever you needed to get to the bathroom or the couch.

He had an almost annoying dedication to making sure you ate. Every lunchtime, without fail, he showed up at your apartment. You’d hear the front door unlock, and a few minutes later, he’d be standing in front of you, arms crossed.

“Did you eat?”

You’d roll your eyes. “Yes, Dad.”

Jaemin would glance at the table, checking for evidence. If he saw plates in the sink, he’d nod and remind you to take your meds before going back to campus. Sometimes just moving to prepare your own food was tiring, but you knew better than to try and lie to him, so you didn’t.

It was kind of nice. Annoying, but nice. But, of course, there were the embarrassing moments that came with having him around 24/7.

Like the time you walked into the living room, only to find him casually folding your clothes—including your underwear.

“Jaemin!” you shrieked, nearly tripping over your own foot.

He barely blinked, holding up a pair of lace-trimmed bras with a considering look. “Are these new?”

“Oh my god, drop them!”

Jaemin chuckled, but thankfully, he did as you said. “Relax. It’s just laundry. It’s not like I haven’t seen a bra before.”

Then there was the time you walked out of your room in the morning, still half-asleep, only to find Jaemin in nothing but a towel, casually walking out of the bathroom. You froze.

Jaemin, completely unfazed, rubbed his damp hair with another towel. “Morning.”

You closed your eyes shut, looking away dramatically. “What the hell?! Put some clothes on!”

He snorted. “Don’t like it, don’t look.”

“Excuse me? This is my apartment! I don’t need to see—” You cut yourself off before you could make things worse, groaning into your hands. “God, just—just go.”

Jaemin laughed as he padded past you toward the spare room. “Noted.” It was a nightmare.

When you were finally able to attend classes again, Jaemin always walked there with you. He made it look casual, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shrugging whenever you pointed it out. “What? We have almost the same schedule.”

You didn’t. And yet, every day, he was there, waiting for you to get ready, carrying your bag when he thought you looked too tired, making sure you got back home without a hitch.

Around the apartment, he was everywhere. You’d be brushing your teeth in the bathroom, and he’d be leaning against the doorway, scrolling through his phone like he had nowhere better to be. You’d be on the couch, flipping through channels, and he’d plop down beside you, stealing the remote.

When he cooked dinner, he’d make you sit on the counter, keeping you close while he moved around the kitchen like it was his. “I swear, if you don’t start eating better, I’m gonna move in permanently,” he’d threaten, flicking water at you when you teased him about being a housewife.

“You don’t have to do all this, you know,” you told him one evening, watching as he washed the dishes.

Jaemin didn’t look up. “I know.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

He glanced at you over his shoulder with a small, knowing smile on his lips. “Because I want to.”

You stared at him for a second before shaking your head. “Suit yourself. I’m not complaining about a clean house and good food.”

Jaemin just chuckled. “You can admit you like having me around. Don’t be shy.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. He was right, but he’d never catch you admitting that out loud. Not to his face at least.

Before you knew it, two weeks had passed. Your ankle had fully healed, and Jaemin—your self-appointed live-in nurse and housewife—was finally packing up his things. You stood by his bedroom door, watching him fold his clothes neatly in place.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.

Jaemin hummed, tossing a hoodie into his duffel bag. “Getting my stuff ready. I’m moving back to the dorm by the end of the day.”

You knew this was coming. It wasn’t like he was living with you permanently. But for some reason, you didn’t like hearing it out loud.

The idea of your apartment returning to its usual emptiness made you uncomfortable. No more clinking in the kitchen in the early morning, no more stolen bites from your plate, no more Jaemin casually invading your space like it was his own. Loneliness slowly crept into your chest at the idea. 

But you didn’t tell him that.

By the time you stepped out of the apartment, the morning sun was warm against your skin, and Jaemin was walking beside you like he had been doing in the last few days. It had become routine—leaving together, arriving together. For the past two weeks, Jaemin had been around every moment of the day, making sure you ate, getting you to class, sticking around like a permanent fixture in your life. And now, just like that, he was packing up.

You glanced at him, the strap of his bag slung over his shoulder. It felt strange, knowing he wouldn’t be there tonight, or tomorrow, or the day after that. The thought unsettled you more than it should. Trying not to dwell on it, you cleared your throat. “What’s the college dorm like?”

Jaemin scoffed. “Let’s see… bunk beds that creak every time you move. Paper-thin walls so you hear everything. People talking, snoring, doing… other things.” He grimaced. “Shared bathrooms, too. It’s an experience, to say the least.”

You made a face. “That sounds awful.”

“It is,” Jaemin confirmed, kicking a loose pebble on the sidewalk. “And my roommate? Dude never cleaned up after himself. I swear, I did all the work.”

“That sucks.” You hummed thoughtfully. “Must be nice having your own space for the past two weeks, huh?”

Jaemin shot you a look, catching on just a little. “I guess.”

“You guess?” You raised a brow. “I mean, you had a whole kitchen. A clean bathroom. Nobody snoring in the same room as you.”

Jaemin let out a soft chuckle. “Are you trying to make a point?”

“Nope. Just making conversation.” You shrugged, keeping your expression neutral.

He rolled his eyes, but there was amusement dancing in them. “Right.”

You left it at that, but something about the conversation must have stuck, because at lunch, Jaemin was still talking about it. He was talking when you joined them at the cafeteria, casually sliding into the seat next to him.

“What are you guys talking about?” you asked, although you already heard snippets of their conversation.

“Jaemin’s moving back to the dorms today,” Karina said, sighing. “We’re wishing him luck.”

“Why would you willingly go back?” Giselle added, incredulous. “Dorm life is hell. It’s literally just a shoebox with a bed.”

“And you can hear everything,” Renjun chimed in. “My friend used to hear his neighbor watch porn and masturbate at two in the morning.”

Everyone at your table groaned in unison. Giselle dramatically covered her mouth as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “That word in your mouth, Renjun? I can’t believe it!”

“What? Masturbate?”

You all groaned again. At this point, Giselle was fake-sobbing on Karina’s shoulder. “My sweet innocent Renjun. Jaemin, what have you been teaching my baby?” she pointed an accusatory finger at Jaemin.

“I’m literally half a year older than you,” Renjun deadpanned.

Your table was chaotic as usual, but your mind was elsewhere, focusing on Jaemin and the fact that he won’t be around after today. 

And that afternoon after classes were over, you leaned against the doorway of the spare bedroom, watching Jaemin zip up his duffel bag. He moved around the room, gathering the last of his things, a hoodie hanging on the back of the door, his camera resting on the desk, a pair of socks he’d somehow left on the floor.

It was expected, of course. He was always going to leave. That was the deal. But standing there, watching him pack, you felt the reality of it settle in your chest in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

You sighed without meaning to. Jaemin didn’t turn at first, but when he finally did, he smirked. “Why do you look so upset? Gonna miss me when I’m gone?”

“I’m not upset,” you said quickly, arms crossing over your chest. “I was just worried you’d have a hard time when you’re back in the dorms.”

Jaemin huffed out a small laugh. “I’ve lived there since freshman year. I’ll survive.”

You knew that. You weren’t actually worried about him adjusting. He was fine there before. He’d be fine again. But would you? Would you be okay when the small ray of sunshine that had been brightening up your space for the last two weeks disappeared?

You hesitated. The words forming in your head felt too heavy, too exposing. You weren’t even sure you wanted to say them. And yet, before you could think better of it, they slipped out anyway. “You don’t have to leave.”

Jaemin paused, his hands holding the zipper of his bag. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed, shifting on your feet. You could leave it at that. Brush it off, pretend you meant something else. But he was already looking at you, waiting.

“You heard me,” you muttered, looking away.

Jaemin tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I did, but I’m not sure I’m understanding it correctly.”

Heat prickled at your skin. This was exactly why you didn’t want to say it. He was just gonna tease you about it. Annoyed, embarrassed, and already regretting this, you huffed. “I said I want you to stay. Don’t go back to the dorms. Just go get your stuff and stay here.”

Jaemin laughed. “Oh, you want me to stay—” He trailed off as his eyes met yours. His amusement faded slightly when he realized you weren’t laughing.  “You’re serious?”

You dropped your gaze, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think you understand what it would mean if I stayed here,” he said softly, searching your face. “That means I have to live here with you, in your space. You’ll have to see me everyday until the semester is over.”

“I know that. It’s not like I’m doing this for free. We can split the rent and other bills. I’ll buy the groceries, you make sure to make food. I’ll lend you my linens and other stuff, you make sure they’re clean.”

“Why are you okay with this?”

You exhaled slowly, staring at the floor like the answer might be there. 

Because the apartment would be too quiet without him. Because the past two weeks had been easier, and brighter, less mundane and less dull. Because you’d gotten used to him being there, to the sound of him moving around, to the way he always had something to say.

But admitting that felt like too much. So instead, you shrugged, forcing nonchalance into your voice. “Because I’m anemic and low on sugar. Someone’s gotta make sure I’m well-fed and healthy.”

Jaemin chuckled heartily, sighing as he gave you an affectionate look. He always did that when he found you cute or endearing, and it always annoyed you because it made you feel like a child.

“If you don’t want to then, forget it,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “Go back to your bunk bed and dirty roommate, I guess.”

“Fine. I’m staying. But only because you forced me to,” he teased, opening his bag again and emptying it.

You stomped toward him, slapping his shoulder. “I did not!”

“Sure, you didn’t.”

You scoffed, annoyed and wondering if you could still take it back. But your heart is lighter now, more at ease. “You better not say that to the girls when they ask about this.”

“I don’t know,” he said in a sing-song. “I might. I might not.”

Living with Jaemin wasn’t all that different from when he was just temporarily staying over. It still came with the same pros: warm food every day, a perpetually clean kitchen, and the added bonus of a personal bodyguard whenever you had to walk home late. But, of course, the same cons remained—the casual half-nakedness, and the occasional mixing of laundry that resulted in you pulling one of his boxers out of your pile.

He changed the spare bedroom completely, swapping out your plain beddings for something that matched his aesthetic better—earthy tones and soft fabrics, the kind that looked straight out of a home decor catalog. He put up posters on the walls, ones he must’ve had in storage, and his toiletries now sat next to yours in the bathroom cabinet. It was still your apartment, but it was slowly becoming his home too.

For the most part, it was nice.

One evening, as you got ready to head out, Giselle came over, letting herself in as usual. She plopped down on your couch, watching as you moved around the apartment, gathering your things.

“Hey, did Jaemin leave already?” she asked, eyeing the shoes by the door—his shoes.

You glanced at her, then back at the bedroom door that was slightly ajar, revealing the edge of his neatly made bed. “Oh, no. He lives here now.”

Giselle blinked. “Permanently?”

“Yeah.” You pulled on a jacket, smoothing it out in the mirror. “He figured it was better than the dorms, so he just moved in.”

Giselle let out a low whistle. “Damn. I’m kinda jealous. I want a live-in housemaid who cooks for me every day too.”

You laughed. “He’s not a housemaid.”

“But still.” She crossed her arms, tilting her head in thought. “Isn’t it weird, though?”

“What?”

“Living with a guy,” she said. “Like, you’re a girl. He’s a guy. Isn’t that… I don’t know, weird?”

You made a face. “We’ve known each other since we were fourteen, Giselle. I don’t see him like that.”

“Huh.” She tapped a finger against her chin, thinking. “So girls and boys can really be just friends.”

“Of course. Why is that even an argument?” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“I mean, I always figured it was possible,” she mused. “But you guys aren’t just friends. You’re like…” She gestured vaguely, searching for the right words. Then, she snapped her fingers. “You’re soulmates. Platonic soulmates, but still soulmates.”

You snorted. “Soulmates?”

“Yeah. You guys are practically an old married couple without the romance.” She grinned. “It’s honestly kinda cute.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t argue. Because, well, maybe she had a point.

The party was louder than you remembered parties being. Maybe it had just been a while, or maybe you were out of practice, but for the first hour, you found yourself unable to keep up with the energy around you. People moved in and out of conversations effortlessly, the music pulsed through the space, and the air was thick with the familiar mix of sweat, alcohol, and perfume.

It felt new again, being surrounded like this, caught up in the rhythm of a rowdy crowd. You sipped at your drink, letting yourself ease into it.

As you looked around, the memories of the past summer came registering into your mind’s view. The last time you'd felt this kind of buzz was that summer in Mykonos. You hadn’t thought about it much in a while, but now, under the neon lights and the noise, your memories brought you back to those days. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t sad or upsetting to remember that phase. In fact, you almost laughed at yourself, recalling just how much fun you’d had back then.

You’d been reckless. Maybe a little foolish. Definitely unhinged at times.

Donghyuck crossed your mind, slipping into the memory as easily as he had slipped into your life back then. That summer had been a whirlwind, the two of you burning through it like a fire neither of you had tried to put out. You wondered how he was doing. If he ever thought about that summer. If he ever thought about you.

Before you could dwell on it for too long, a hand grabbed yours. It was Giselle, grinning at you as he tugged you further into the house. “Come on!”

“Where are we—”

Karina appeared on your other side, looping her arm around yours. “Drinking game. Let’s go.”

You barely had a chance to protest before they dragged you into a circle of students, their laughter and cheers carrying over the loud music and chatter. Someone handed you a shot. The game was in full swing—a card game of truth or take a shot.

You participated, not because you wanted to, but because you were already there. It carried on, drinks passing from hand to hand, each question peeling back another layer of someone's carefully curated image. You laughed as someone admitted to sending an embarrassing drunk text the night before, and winced when another revealed they had been caught sneaking a boy into their apartment by their roommate’s mom.

Then, it was your turn, which surprised you a little. You thought the chances of getting picked was low, given the large number of people participating in the game. But here you are.

“Who’s the last person you kissed?” said someone who was reading the card you’d picked, and the circle immediately leaned in, eager for the answer.

You hesitated, warmth creeping up your neck. The answer should have come easily, but instead, your mind drew a complete blank.

“Well?” Giselle pressed.

You shifted in your seat. “No one.”

That didn’t satisfy them. “Come on, be serious.”

“I am being serious,” you insisted. “I haven’t kissed anyone recently.”

The group groaned in disappointment, and someone called out, “Boring!” You only rolled your eyes, but before you could deflect, another question landed in your lap.

“What about your first kiss?”

You laughed, relieved it wasn’t about the present anymore. “That was back in high school,” you said lightly. “You probably wouldn’t even know them.”

But the moment the words left your mouth, your gaze flickered across the room, drawn almost instinctively to Jaemin. He was standing far across the hall, deep in conversation, laughing with his friends.

And then it hit you. Jaemin. Your first kiss had been Jaemin. A sharp gasp left your lips.

The realization knocked into you like a gust of wind, rattling your brain, unearthing a memory you hadn’t even realized you’d buried. The circle of people blurred into static noise as your pulse pounded in your ears.  Without thinking, you rose to your feet.

“Hey! Where are you—”

“Bathroom,” you blurted, before turning and walking—no, running—out of the room.

You didn’t stop until you reached the garden area of the house, stepping into the cooler night air. The party still pulsed behind you, but out here, it was less stuffy, easier to breathe.

You held onto the edge of a patio table as you tried to process what had just resurfaced. How could you have forgotten something like that? How had it just slipped from your memory as if it never happened?

Jaemin had been your first kiss. Not some crush, not a random guy at a party. Jaemin.

The thought sent your brain into overdrive. It must have been casual, right? A stupid teenage thing. A dare? A joke? You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to summon the exact details, but all you got were flashes—his face close to yours, the stuffy in the air, the way he’d grinned afterward.

You let out a breath, feeling slightly light-headed. And then you heard a familiar voice calling your name behind you.

“Are you okay?” You turned, and there he was. Jaemin, stepping onto the patio, his head tilting slightly in concern. 

You straightened immediately, forcing a neutral expression. “Yeah. Just needed some air.”

Jaemin didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t press. Instead, he eyed you for a moment before asking, “Have you been drinking?”

You hesitated before nodding. “A little.”

He narrowed his eyes on you. “You know you’re not supposed to drink, right?”

You chuckled lightly, rolling your eyes just a little. “I’m allowed to drink, Jaemin. And besides, I’m all better now. I didn’t even need to go to rehab and I’m off therapy.”

Jaemin shrugged, stuffing his hands in hi pockets. “Yeah, but it won’t hurt to be careful. You don’t seem that well to me.”

You understood what he meant. While it was true that the events of that summer no longer haunted you, you hadn’t reverted back to your old easy-going, and happy self. This was probably just a phase, a transition period because blending back seamlessly wasn’t as easy as people made it out to be. But you knew in your heart that you were all better now, you were simply adjusting.

Silence settled between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… lingering. There was something on the tip of your tongue, something you wanted to ask, but you didn’t.

Instead, you inhaled slowly, pushing the thought away. “I’m heading back in,” you said.

Jaemin nodded, stepping aside to let you pass. As you walked back inside, the memory of your first kiss still sat heavy in your chest. It was back now, no longer buried. And you had no idea what to do with it.

You had hoped that unearthing a memory as important as your first kiss wouldn’t affect your life. But it did, funnily enough. Now, you couldn’t look Jaemin in the eye or act normally around him. It was awkward, and you knew he could feel it too. He was just nice enough not to ask questions. Or maybe he knew he hadn’t done anything to cause this, so he wasn’t bothered at all.

You, however, were very much bothered. 

As you sat on the couch, pretending to scroll through your phone, your gaze kept drifting toward Jaemin. He was vacuuming the apartment like nothing had changed, like you hadn’t just recovered a lost piece of your history together. Did he remember that night? Or had he forgotten, just like you had?

You could still see it so clearly now. Some summer party when you were sixteen. The two of you, shoved into a cramped closet for a round of Seven Minutes in Heaven.

“We’re not gonna do it,” you’d said immediately. “Obviously, we’re not gonna do it.”

Jaemin had shrugged. “Let’s just let the seven minutes pass and we’re out of here.”

“Yeah,” you’d agreed. But you’d been restless, hugging your arms around yourself, picking at the sleeve of your dress. 

The closet had been stuffy, filled with the scent of old coats and lingering perfume. You’d had a few bottles of beer and cups of whatever mix of alcohol and softdrinks the jocks had concocted earlier. You’d been hot and light-headed. So when he shifted slightly and his elbow nudged your arm, you had looked up at him ready to snap and say something mean like you always did.

But you couldn’t. The words died in your throat when you were met by his eyes, striking in the glow of your phone’s flashlight, staring back at you. The same eyes that had always been so easy to read—except, for the first time, you weren’t sure what you were seeing.

“Just one?” you blurted before you could even stop yourself.

Jaemin moved to face you fully. “Just one,” he said, already reaching to cup your face and kiss your lips.

It was just one, as agreed. As soon as his mouth touched yours, something in you had caved. The kiss had stolen the air out of your lungs, and erased the rationality in your head. That one kiss had you gripping the back of his neck, fingers curling against his hair as you pulled him closer for more. His hands on your hips were firm, keeping you steady as you felt your knees go weak with the sensation of his lips.

It was just one kiss. But it was one hell of a kiss. And yet, somehow, you’d managed to forget it ever happened—until now.

“Hey.” Jaemin’s voice yanked you back to the present.

You blinked, vision coming back into focus. He was standing in front of you now, the vacuum off, watching you with mild concern. His hand was on your arm.

“Huh?” you said, stupidly.

His brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

Panic flared up in your chest. His touch felt too warm, too familiar, and suddenly, it was all too much. You swatted his hand away, bolted up from the couch, and rushed straight into your room.

You told yourself it was no big deal. Just a long-forgotten memory, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. It shouldn’t change anything. It didn’t mean anything.

But no matter how much you tried to push it out of your mind, you couldn’t. It was like Jaemin had been put under a magnifying glass—every little thing about him suddenly too noticeable, too distracting.

Like the way his voice softened when he called your name. Or how his sweater sleeves were always pushed up to his elbows, exposing his forearms. Or the way he laughed, nose scrunching, eyes disappearing. Or, most annoyingly, how effortlessly attractive he was.

That hadn’t been a new observation, obviously. You always knew Jaemin was handsome. It was just a fact. But suddenly, it was something you were aware of in a way you had never been before. Suddenly, you were attracted to this handsomeness and it was infuriating.

The worst moment, by far, had been a few days ago. You had been curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Jaemin had stepped out of the bathroom—fresh from a shower, towel slung around his neck, with his messy damp hair falling over his forehead. And, of course, because the universe was cruel, he had been shirtless.

You hadn’t meant to stare, but you did.

It was impossible not to when his toned muscles were right there, his defined chest and abs on full display as he wiped at his hair. You knew he was ripped. You knew he had been going to gym consistently, putting in the work to maintain his physique. But you hadn’t given it any attention until right now.

He glanced up mid-rub, catching you staring blatantly with wide eyes. “What?” he asked, smirking.

“Nothing,” you blurted, whipping your gaze away so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. Your ears burned. You buried your face back into your phone, scrolling blindly, hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

Jaemin just laughed, shaking his head as he walked into his room. But you were left with the horrifying realization that you had just ogled your best friend.

And it wasn’t just that. It was everything that used to be so normal, so second-nature.

The way he absentmindedly ruffled your hair, the way he leaned in close when talking, the way he smelled—clean, fresh, woodsy—a mix that smelled distinctly Jaemin. You found yourself noticing things you never paid attention to before. And the more you noticed, the more your brain kept circling back to that memory—of being sixteen, of being in that closet, of his lips on yours.

Jaemin noticed eventually. He noticed how you avoided his gaze, how you stiffened when he casually draped an arm over your shoulders like he always had. He noticed how you started keeping just enough distance between you, subtly leaning away when he got too close.

At first, he didn’t seem to think much of it—maybe just a weird mood, something that would pass. But when it didn’t, when you kept acting like a skittish cat whenever he so much as looked at you for too long, his patience finally ran out.

He caught you by the wrist one afternoon, stopping you just as you were about to escape into your room after he sat too close to you in the couch and you scooted away like you were terrified of him.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” he asked, brows furrowed.

Your heart jumped to your throat. “Nothing.”

His grip was loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted, but his stare pinned you in place. “You’ve been acting weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said quickly. Too quickly.

Jaemin scoffed, giving you a look that said he wasn’t buying it for a second. “Yeah, okay,” he said, tone dripping with sarcasm. “If you’re just gonna act like I’m gonna devour you each time I so much as look at you, why did you ask to live together?”

“Live together?” you echoed, his choice of words making your brain short-circuit. “We’re not living together. We’re sharing an apartment.”

“Yeah, that’s what living together means. I— That’s not the point,” he stopped and sighed, letting you go and placing his hands on his waist. “What did I do? Tell me so I can apologize and we can get over it.”

Tell him? Tell him? How were you supposed to tell him that you’d just remembered your first kiss with him and it was making you all giddy and nervous when he was near? You couldn’t possibly say that to your best friend of all people!

You opened your mouth to argue, to deny, to brush it off, but luckily, salvation arrived in the form of your friends ringing the doorbell.

“That’s the girls,” you said, making a break for the door before he could stop you again. “We’re seeing Ningning today. I’ll be home late, so no need to make me dinner.”

Jaemin let out a frustrated sigh behind you. “Call me if you need me to pick you up.” 

“I will,” you replied, but you didn’t look back. You definitely will not call him to pick you up.

Café dates with your friends were usually a safe space, a break from the chaos of college life. But today, your mind was still preoccupied, and no matter how hard you tried to be present, you kept zoning out, stirring your iced coffee with the straw until the ice had almost completely melted.

“You’re quiet today,” Karina noted, giving you a curious look.

You blinked, forcing a smile. “Huh? No, I’m fine.”

“You literally just sighed to yourself,” Ningning said flatly.

Giselle narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been acting weird since we got here. Spill it.”

You hesitated. Admitting this out loud made it feel too real. But the three of them were staring at you like interrogators, and you knew they weren’t going to let this go.

You exhaled, deciding to rip the band-aid off. “I’ve been thinking about something weird lately.”

Giselle leaned in, interested. “Weird how?”

You bit your lip, hesitating for just a second before blurting, “I just—” You exhaled sharply. “I just remembered that Jaemin was my first kiss.”

“WHAT?”

Their voices were too loud that it drew attention from the nearby tables. You winced, shushing them in a panic. “Hey, keep it down.”

“You just dropped a bomb on us, what do you expect?” Ningning whisper-yelled, looking personally offended that she was only learning this now.

Karina gaped at you. “Jaemin was your first kiss? How are you best friends with your first kiss?”

“I kinda forgot about it,” you admitted sheepishly. “It happened in high school. And I didn’t remember until recently.”

They exchanged looks, intrigue and disbelief dancing on their faces. Giselle was the first to recover. “Okay, wait. So, was it like, an actual kiss kiss? Or one of those lame pecks?”

You opened your mouth to answer but suddenly remembered just how intense it had actually been. Your face burned. Karina gasped. “Oh my god! It was a real kiss, wasn’t it?”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “Can we not?”

“No, we absolutely can,” Ningning said, practically buzzing. “So? What does this mean? Do you—” she wiggled her brows, “—like him?”

“What? No!” you said immediately, way too defensive. “We were sixteen and dumb, playing seven minutes in heaven. I just— It’s weird, okay? It’s weird that I didn’t remember it, and now that I do, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

They exchanged another round of knowing looks. You hated it. “Guys, stop making me nervous.”

Ningning leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Okay, but think about it. You’ve lived with Jaemin for how long now? Three weeks? And now is when you suddenly remember this? What if your brain suppressed it because it meant something?”

You gave her a deadpan look. “Yeah, I totally repressed my first kiss because I was secretly in love with Jaemin all this time. That makes so much sense.”

Karina tapped her nails against the table. “Actually, she has a point. You said you forgot it happened, right? But then all of a sudden, it just comes back out of nowhere? Why? What triggered it?”

You hesitated. “Remember last week when we were playing a game at the party? And you guys asked me about my first kiss?” They nodded. “Yeah, that’s when it came back to me. Now I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve been acting all weird around him and he’s starting to notice.”

Karina’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, wait. What if the reason you forgot about it was because it would have changed the way you saw him back then? And now that you remembered it, you can’t unsee it because it’s been so long and he’s changed and you’ve changed and now he’s—”

“Hot,” Giselle finished, giving Karina a high-five after.

“Don’t say that,” you groaned.

“What? Hot?” Giselle snickered. “Why not? Jaemin is hot. Have you seen him?”

Karina grinned beside you. “Of course she’s seen him. They see each other 24/7 now.”

Ningning, just to fan the fire, said, “Bet he walks around shirtless after a shower.”

“Or when he gets back from the gym,” Giselle added, making all the girls oooh and fan their faces.

You stared at them, horrified. “You’re all insane.”

“Maybe, but you’re not saying we’re wrong,” Ningning said smugly. “Come on, babe. It’s okay to admit it. You like him. You want to kiss him again.”

“You guys are giving way too much meaning to something that happened years ago,” you insisted.

“Are we, though?” Giselle challenged. “Because we’re not the ones acting weird around our best friend over ‘something that happened years ago’,” she added, mimicking that way you spoke.

Karina tilted her head. "Yeah, why do you think that is?”

You opened your mouth to answer but came up empty. Because, ugh, they did have a point. It was just a kiss—one from years ago—but if it really was that meaningless, why were you spiraling?

“Wait, what about him?” Ningning prompted. “Does he remember that? Did he know that was your first kiss?”

Your stomach flipped at the question. “I’m not sure. I don’t think we ever talked about it.”

“What if,” Karina said, narrowing her eyes, “he remembers, but he never tried anything with you because he knows if you two cross that line, it changes everything.”

That thought sat uneasily in your chest. Giselle leaned back. “So. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing,” you said immediately.

They groaned in unison. “You have to at least ask him,” Ningning urged.

“Why? That’s just gonna make things weirder.”

“What’s weird is that you’re spiraling over this instead of just asking,” Giselle pointed out.

Karina agreed. “Yeah. What if this is your ‘childhood best friends to lovers’ arc?”

You shot her a look. “This is not a K-drama.”

“But it could be.”

You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head. “Look, I’ll think about it, okay? But I’m not just gonna randomly ask him if he remembers a kiss from when we were sixteen.”

“You won’t have to,” Karina chimed. “We’ll help you figure out the perfect way to bring it up.”

You had a feeling you were going to regret this.

Giselle smirked, stirring her drink. “See, this is why I always say men and women can’t be just friends.”

“We totally can,” you countered.

“Sure, whatever,” she said, unimpressed. “But at some point in every guy-girl friendship, there’s gonna be a small phase where one of them saw the other romantically. Or, in your case, had a history of sharing something as special as a first kiss.”

Your friends began teasing you about it. You could only frown and say nothing. Because, for the first time, you weren’t entirely sure if she was wrong.

Mark Lee was the last person you expected to run into.

You had been walking back to your apartment, your mind still agonizing about your conversation with your friends. The moment you spotted him, standing by the trunk of a car and hoisting a duffel bag over his shoulder, you almost gasped.

“Mark?” you called out, making him glance at you.

His face lit up in recognition. “No way. Look who it is.”

You walked towards him, smiling. “Hi.”

He shut the trunk with a firm thud and slung his bag higher onto his shoulder, his eyes scanning you briefly. “It’s been a while. You still live here?”

“Yeah,” you said. “You?”

“Nah, I’m actually moving out,” Mark replied. “I graduated last semester.”

Your brows lifted slightly. “Oh. Congratulations. I almost forgot you were a year ahead of us.”

“Thanks.” He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Feels weird, though. Like, I don’t think it’s hit me yet that I’m actually done with college.

“Four years of studying will probably do that to you,” you replied, chuckling.

“Four and a half for me,” he said, shaking his head.

You just nodded, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. A comfortable silence settled between you. It was nice seeing him, but now that you were talking to him, you realized you really didn’t have anything in common that you could talk about. You weren’t in the same circle of friends, nor were you particularly close. The only connection you had with him was Donghyuck.

“Hey, uh…” You saw hesitation flicker across his face before he offered a small smile. “I heard about Mykonos, Donghyuck and… everything.”

“Oh.” You froze, huffing a small laugh. “Yeah. That happened.”

“Are you okay?”

“Of course. I’m fine. I’m fine now. I wasn’t but, I am now,” you explained, not wanting to divulge more. You didn’t want to ask. You could’ve just left it at that—just another casual encounter with an old neighbor. But before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out.

“How is he? Donghyuck…”

Mark shrugged as if he was expecting you to ask that. “He’s fine, I think. He’s studying there and actually putting in the work to get good grades. We text here and there, and I saw him when I went home after graduation. He looks the same, still insufferable and an idiot, but… he’s okay.”

A strange feeling settled in your chest—something between relief and disappointment. Mark must have sensed something because he tilted his head slightly and showed a ‘calling’ gesture with his hand. “You wanna—?”

“No.” You cut him off before he could even suggest it. “It’s for the best.”

Mark let out a soft chuckle. “Alright. Well, I’ll tell him you said hi.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. Take care, Mark.”

“You too.” And just like that, another piece of Donghyuck slipped through your fingers.

When you stepped into your apartment, the silence was almost jarring. No sounds of Jaemin humming to himself in the kitchen. No sight of him sprawled on the couch watching something ridiculous. The place felt... empty.

For a second, you thought maybe he was out. Then, you spotted his shoes by the door and figured he must be sleeping. Good. You weren’t in the mood to interact.

You went straight to your room, shedding your jacket and tossing your bag onto the chair. The moment you entered the bathroom, you turned the shower on, letting the water heat up as you pulled off your clothes. Under the spray, you closed your eyes, tilting your head back as the warmth soaked into your skin.

Donghyuck.

It hasn’t even been a year, yet somehow, it felt longer than that. You used to be neighbors. It used to annoy you when Donghyuck brought girls over, when the sounds of them having sex echoed faintly through your walls. That was before you knew what it was like to spend an entire summer with him—before you knew what it was like to fall into something messy and thrilling and impossible to forget.

You exhaled sharply and shut off the water. It was enough to know that he was doing well. That he was living his life properly. You weren’t hurt by what happened anymore, surprisingly. But a part of you still wished you were able to talk to him before he left. You deserved a proper goodbye. Especially with the scars left by that fateful event.

“Tragic,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing the scar on your elbow.

The bathroom was still warm with steam when you stepped out, a towel wrapped loosely around your body. Water dripped from your damp hair, trailing down your shoulders, but you barely noticed. Your thoughts were still in the past. You needed something to calm your nerves. Maybe tea.

You crossed the hallway to the kitchen, moving straight to the overhead cupboard. You stretched up on your toes, fingers barely grazing the box of tea on the top shelf but you couldn’t get it. Annoying. You tried again, straining a little harder but then suddenly, something brushed against your back.

You stiffened, breath catching as you turned only to find yourself face-to-face with Jaemin. Or rather, face-to-chest.

He had stepped up behind you so quietly you hadn’t even noticed, one arm reaching past you to grab the tea. His other hand rested against the counter beside you, blocking you in without even realizing it.

Your gaze flickered up just as he glanced down, and that’s when you realized how close you were. He was close. Really close.

His face was just inches from yours, close enough that you could catch the familiar scent of his detergent mixed with something distinctly him. His chest barely touched yours, but you felt every shift, every breath. The towel around you suddenly felt too thin.

Jaemin held the tea between you, as if just now realizing the way you were staring at him.

But instead of taking it, you asked, “Do you remember the time we played Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

You caught the small shift in his expression. Surely he’d know which specific time you were talking about right? If he remembered that kiss at all, surely he wouldn’t be confused and assume you were talking about all the times you’d played seven minutes in heaven?

But his response came quickly and with certainty. “I do.”

Your eyes traced his features, noting the way his gaze flickered downward to your chest, a split-second slip before he caught himself and turned his head slightly, jaw tensing. Your chest rose with a shallow breath.

“Did you know that was my first kiss?”

Jaemin was still looking away, but you saw his throat bob as he swallowed. “I think you mentioned it,” he admitted.

Your fingers twitched before you lifted a hand to his cheek, your palm grazing the sharp line of his jaw before settling at the curve of his neck. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and his pulse was steady but strong.

“Then why did we both forget it ever happened?” you asked softly, eyes fixed on his lips, so close and so inviting.

Jaemin finally met your gaze. His lips parted as if to say something, but then he stopped. His eyes lowered, and when he looked at you again, his expression had changed. 

“I didn’t forget.”

The words sent warmth through you. Your heart pounded in your ears as your fingers pressed lightly against his skin. Something about the way he was looking at you made it impossible to breathe, impossible to think. So you did the only thing your body seemed to understand at that moment—you rose to your tiptoes and kissed him.

Jaemin didn’t hesitate. His hands found your waist as he pulled you flush against him, his lips molding against yours, deep and persistent. Heat prickled at your skin, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tugged him closer for more. His grip on you was firm and possessive, and for a moment, nothing else mattered but the way he was kissing you back.

Then a voice in your head screamed at you to stop.

You pushed him away, breathless, panic creeping into your heart as your hands pressed firmly on his chest. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

The words came out fast and desperate, but it sounded more like a statement to yourself than to him. Jaemin backed away, studying your face as he nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he breathed, and you weren’t sure if he meant it because it was impossible to read the expression on his face.

Either way, you didn’t have time to dwell on it. You held your towel in place and walked away.

Jaemin didn’t argue. He didn’t try to stop you as you turned and hurried away, leaving behind the forgotten tea and the line you’d crossed to the point of no return.

The next morning, you did what any sane person would do—you pretended last night never happened.

You took your time getting out of bed, hoping that by the time you stepped into the kitchen, Jaemin would be gone. No such luck. He was sitting on the couch in the living room, looking relaxed and unbothered, like he hadn’t kissed you breathless in the kitchen less than twelve hours ago.

You ignored him. Moving around the kitchen, you focused on your routine—heat up leftovers, pour yourself some water, avoid looking in his direction. But you could feel his gaze on you, lazy and knowing, like he was waiting for something.

When you reached for a mug, his voice cut through the quiet. “The tea’s in the drawer. In case you want it.”

Your fingers twitched. You didn’t turn around, didn’t react, but you heard the insinuation in his tone, the meaning hiding between the lines. Still, you said nothing. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction

Later that day, you met up with your friends at the quad, lounging on the grass as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky. The conversation was light and fun, and for a moment, you were free from the clutches of Jaemin’s infuriatingly charming grin. 

That is until he came strutting in with Renjun, drinks in hand.

Renjun handed the drink one-by-one. He’d asked if you girls wanted something from the cafe while he was there, so you texted him your orders. But now that he was handing you the iced tea you asked for, you hesitated to accept it.

“I’ll have coffee instead,” you said, pushing the drink back toward him.

Renjun frowned. “What? But you asked for iced tea? Honey lemon, right?”

Yes, right. But that was before you knew he’d be coming back with Na Jaemin. “I changed my mind.”

Jaemin, who had been watching the exchange, chuckled under his breath. “You don’t want your tea?” You shot him a warning glare, but he only smiled. He took his coffee and held it out to you instead. “Here, you can have mine. I’ll take the tea.”

You didn’t want to take anything from him, but declining again would make it obvious. So you exhaled sharply and snatched the cup from his hand, ignoring the way he grinned. Then, just as you took a sip, Jaemin said,

“You sure you don’t want your tea? You seemed pretty desperate for it last night.”

You nearly choked. Your grip on the cup tightened as heat flared up your cheeks. Jaemin only sipped his drink, looking perfectly fine while you struggled not to just go ahead and strangle him.

Before you could say anything, Giselle, who had been oblivious to the tension, turned to the group with a casual, “So, what were you guys like in high school?”

Karina, clearly picking up on her intention, hummed in thought. “High school me? Pretty boring, honestly. I was too busy studying to get a proper life.” 

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t get kissed in high school?”

“I did, of course. But not as much as I wished,” Karina replied, shaking her head. “My first kiss was because of a dare.”

“So is mine,” Giselle added, glancing sideways at you. “It was with my crush, but I stopped liking him after because he was such a lousy kisser.”

Then she turned to Jaemin. “What about you? Do you remember yours?”

You froze, realizing right then what they were doing. They had promised to help you figure out if Jaemin remembered that kiss all those years ago. And judging by the direction of this conversation, this was the help they meant. Not that it was necessary anymore. You had already asked him yourself.

But you couldn’t exactly tell them that. So you stayed silent, waiting, heart pounding a little too fast as Jaemin leaned back on his hands.

And then, he looked right at you. “I don’t remember my first kiss, exactly,” he said smoothly. “I do remember kissing someone recently, though.”

Your stomach dropped. His words sent a jolt of something hot through your veins—half panic, half something you didn’t know you’d feel for your best friend. You stared at him, pulse thundering in your ears, as his lips curved into the slightest smirk.

You were going to kill him.

But not right now. You were gonna take your time and kill him with no witness. So for now, you kept your distance. Even as the day stretched on, even as Jaemin hovered near, you refused to acknowledge him. When it was his turn to talk, you busied yourself with your phone. When he laughed at something, you pretended not to hear. And when it was finally time to head home, you walked ahead, ignoring the way he naturally fell into step beside you.

He didn’t say anything about it. Not once did he call your name or try to slow you down. At the apartment, you swung the door open and stepped inside first, not bothering to hold it for him. You kicked off your shoes, tossed your bag onto the couch, and started toward your bedroom.

But then he called your name and that made your patience snap.

“What is wrong with you?” you huffed, gesturing at him.

Jaemin’s voice was teasing, “What? What did I do?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You keep bringing it up.”

Jaemin didn’t even blink. “Bringing what up?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You know what.”

He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “I really don’t.”

You scoffed, stepping closer. “The kiss, Jaemin. You keep hinting at it. You were so obvious, you might as well have just announced it to everyone.”

Jaemin simply shrugged, the smirk on his lips irritating you more. “I wasn’t obvious. You’re the only one who noticed.”

“Why were you doing it in the first place?” you demanded, stepping right into his space. “I told you, that kiss didn’t mean anything.”

Jaemin’s gaze flickered. He stayed quiet for half a second too long before he closed the gap between you. You stepped back, suddenly nervous at how close he was being. He kept at it, stepping closer while you stepped back until your back hit your bedroom door.

“If it didn’t mean anything,” he said, voice slow and teasing, “why are you so worked up about it?”

You didn’t have an answer to that, and he knew it. He was watching you too closely, too carefully, catching the way your lips parted, then closed again.

So you did what you always did when backed into a corner. You brushed it off. “Just forget it ever happened,” you muttered, looking away.

Jaemin studied you for a second, then exhaled through his nose. “No.”

“Yes!” you insisted.

There was a long pause. Then, he sighed like he wasn’t happy about it but was willing to let you have this. “Fine.”

“Good.” You turned back toward your door, gripping the handle with a sigh of relief. But just as you started to push it open Jaemin tugged your wrist lightly, just enough to make you turn slightly toward him.

Eyes gleaming mischievously, he asked, “Wanna do it again?”

Heat shot up your cheeks, exasperation and something dangerously close to exhilaration rushing through you despite the fact that you should have been pissed.“Stop,” you said, exasperated, shoving the door closed in his face.

“Oh my god, stop it,” you muttered, slapping your palm on his chest and shoving the door closed in his face.

Only to rip it open a second later.

Jaemin barely had time to react because you quickly grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was deep, hot, and feverish. Jaemin responded instantly, hands firm on your waist as he backed you against the doorframe, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

It was intoxicating, dizzying—the way he kissed, the way he held you like he’d been waiting for this. But just before the moment took over completely, you pulled away, catching your breath.

Jaemin stared at you, lips parted, chest rising and falling. You stared into his eyes, then at his lips, biting your own as you savored the lingering sensations he’d left behind.

“You liked that?” he teased, catching the way you were looking at him. Flustered, you swallowed and quickly stepped back into your room, locking the door behind you before you could do something reckless again.

You leaned against it, heart racing, lips tingling, your skin still burning from the way he touched you. Then you heard him chuckle softly on the other side before he rapped his fist on the door, the sound startling you.

“You kissed me first, alright?” he called out, and you could almost hear the grin in his voice. “So you better not skip dinner because of this.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting back a smile. Then, with a quiet groan, you slid down to the floor, pressing your hands over your face and kicking your legs in the air as you tried your best not to squeal.

You told yourself it wouldn’t happen again. But then it did. It started small, so small that it was easy to pretend it was nothing. Like that morning in the kitchen when you were making coffee, and Jaemin leaned against the counter beside you, too close, as always. He watched as you poured sugar into your mug, his gaze intent and knowing.

“That’s too sweet,” he commented.

You paused, the spoon clinking against the ceramic. “It’s not. You just like yours bitter and sad.”

Jaemin hummed in amusement, then he said, “I like my coffee bitter, but I’ve been told many times that my kisses are very sweet.”

You scoffed, taking the spoon out of your mug and turning to raise an eyebrow at him. “You telling me you’ve kissed lots of people isn’t really convincing me to kiss you again.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to convince you yet,” he replied, grinning playfully. Without warning, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. Then he leaned forward to press a soft peck on your cheek. “This is me convincing you.”

You stared at him, unimpressed, and took a step back with your mug. “Not working.”

Jaemin only smirked. You sighed, turning away to grab some bread from the overhead cupboard. The moment your fingers came up short, he stepped in behind you, reaching for it easily. You exhaled at sudden feeling of a deja vu.

He held it out casually. “Here.”

But when you reached for it, he pulled it back—just far enough to make you glare at him—before swooping in and stealing a kiss from your lips.

You froze, still gripping your coffee. Jaemin, meanwhile, took your other hand, placed the bread in it, and patted your head like nothing had happened. Then he walked away whistling, leaving you standing there, mildly annoyed.

You recovered quickly though, placing the mug and the bread on the countertop and trudging toward him with heavy steps. Jaemin noticed and turned to look at you with that stupid smirk he always had.

“Oh, hi. What are you—”

You grabbed his collar and pulled him down, cutting him off with your lips pressed firmly against his. It was deep and reckless, but only for a few seconds. When you pulled away, Jaemin looked shocked.

And then he smirked. “Oh,” he mused, tilting his head. “So now you’re playing my game?”

You scoffed, tightening your grip on his shirt. “What game?” you asked before kissing him again.

And from then on, it was like a challenge. In your shared apartment, in the moments in between, in the spaces where no one was watching—you both kept crossing that line, over and over again.

A stolen kiss behind the bookshelf at the library. A lazy makeout session in the empty hallway of your apartment when you both got home late. A whispered “You drive me crazy,” before Jaemin kissed you stupid against the fridge door one evening, his hands firm on your waist, your fingers tangling in his hair, neither of you stopping until the timer on the microwave beeped.

And through it all, neither of you ever talked about it. Because if you did—if you admitted how much you wanted it—you wouldn’t be able to stop. If you acknowledged what was really happening, you’d have to stop pretending that it was nothing. That it didn’t mean anything. And that was something you weren’t ready for.

And then there was that night on the couch.

It had started with an old movie playing on the TV, both of you sitting closely and sharing a blanket. Jaemin had his arm on the back of the couch, fingers idly playing with the strands of your hair. It was harmless at first, but then his fingers trailed down the back of your neck, light and slow, and you felt goosebumps all over your body.

You turned your head slightly to look at him, only to find that he was already staring at you. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were dark and focused. You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but Jaemin was faster. His fingers tipped your chin, tilting your face toward his as he leaned in.

The first kiss was soft, almost hesitant. But then you sighed into it, melting just enough for him to take control. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, and before you knew it, you were on your back, Jaemin hovering over you without breaking the kiss.

The movie was forgotten, its noise fading into the background as the sound of your shallow breaths echoed in the room. His kisses trailed lower, grazing your jaw, all the way down to your throat. You gasped when he found a spot just beneath your ear, his teeth nipping at it before soothing the bite with his tongue.

“Jaemin,” you murmured, your fingers slipping into the back collar of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath.

“Mmh,” he hummed against your skin, not stopping.

His hands were already sliding under your sweater, warm against your bare skin. Your legs parted beneath him, your body arching into his touch before you could stop yourself.

And then when his hand dipped down to your lower abdomen, you tensed. Not because you didn’t want it, but because you did. Too much. Jaemin must have felt it because he paused immediately. His lips hovered over your collarbone, his breathing unsteady, before he finally pulled back just enough to look at you.

His voice was low when he asked, “Should we stop?”

You swallowed hard, nodding against your wishes. “Yeah. We probably should.”

Neither of you moved for a moment. His hands were still on you, your fingers brushing his back, and it would’ve been so easy to pull him back down, to let him keep going. But then he exhaled, forcing himself to sit up, and you followed, scooting to put a little space between you.

The movie was still playing, though neither of you paid it any attention. Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, glancing at you with a half-smirk, though his voice was rough when he spoke.

“We’re really bad at pretending this is nothing, you know.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head as you folded your legs beneath you. “You’re right. It’s ridiculous.”

And just like that, it was over. For now, at least.

There was a strange feeling in your chest lately, something you couldn’t quite put a name to. Like the rush of something new, conflicting with the pressure of something unresolved.

You had spent the past weeks trying not to think too hard about Jaemin, about the way your lips kept finding his, about how easy it was to pretend nothing had changed when, deep down, you knew everything had.

But pretending only worked for so long. Because no matter how much you tried to move forward, some things still followed behind you. Some things still had a hold on you, however faint. And just as you were starting to believe you had left it all in Mykonos, there he was.

Donghyuck.

Standing just outside the campus gates, hands in his pockets, bouncing lightly on his heels with an impatient look on his face, as if he’d been standing there for a long time now. He was waiting for someone, but the moment his eyes landed on you, his face broke into a wide grin.

And just like that, all the hesitation that had been creeping up inside you disappeared. You ran across the quad toward him. “Hyuck!”

His laughter was warm as you threw your arms around him, his embrace just as familiar as you remembered. He still smelled like summer—bright, musky, and reckless, even in the cool autumn air.

“I was waiting here expecting you’d ignore me,” he teased, pulling back to look at you. “I would’ve chased you down if you did, though.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping back, but there was no denying the way your heart ached a little. Not in the way it used to, but in the way that happens when you reunite with someone who once held every piece of you in their hands.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you at all,” you admitted. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. Why else would I be here if not for you?” Donghyuck said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not here to get back together or anything. Not that you were expecting me to.”

You let out a small chuckle, but he wasn’t wrong. That thought had never crossed your mind. “You wish I want you back, don’t you?” you teased, making him laugh.

“Do you have time? Can we talk?” he asked, motioning outside the gates.

“Absolutely,” you replied without missing a beat, following after him.

You walked from the campus to the nearby cafe where you ordered food and spent the first few minutes laughing and talking about stupid things. Then the conversation turned serious, which was not something that often happened between the two of you, but you listened to what he had to say anyway.

“I really, really wanted to stay and wait for you to wake up,” he began, referring to when you had a coma after being run over by a car. “But it was out of my hands and I haven’t been on my best behavior for the longest time so… that was the last straw. My parents were furious and Hyung had no choice but to send me back.”

You bit your lip, nodding. “I figured you weren’t allowed to contact me after that?”

“Oh, I wish it was only that,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Because then I would have had chances to contact you in secret. But I wasn’t allowed any electronics at all. Not a phone, not even the computers at uni. I could only meet my friends at home and their phones are confiscated before they even step into the house.”

You winced. “That’s awful.”

He sighed. “You have no idea. I was going nuts! They put me in rehab too for my drinking problems.”

“You had drinking problems?”

“I have drinking habits that they didn’t like so they saw it as a problem.” He chuckled, flashing that boyish smirk you used to hate but had grown to love. “What about you? How are you doing? I heard you skipped a semester?”

“Well, moving on from something that major wasn’t exactly a walk in the park,” you replied, laughing at your own expense. You told him what had happened after that summer. How you came home heartbroken and sad. How you had to get therapy because you were showing signs of depression. How you moved on from it all but still didn’t know how to properly live the life you used to have before that summer. It was a six-month battle and it had been ten months since that fateful summer, but looking back on it now, it felt so much longer than that.

“I’m glad I came. I owed you an explanation, so I had to find a way,” he said, his voice softening. “And I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Something in your chest tightened. You had spent the past months wishing that fate would at least grant you this—closure, a proper goodbye. And now that it was here, it felt like a load was being taken off of your shoulders.

“I’m doing okay,” you said honestly. “And thanks… For coming, I mean. And for being safe.”

Donghyuck smiled wistfully. “I have Taeyong Hyung to thank for that. He convinced our parents to let me come. Told them I needed to ‘learn from the field.’” He made air quotes, then dropped his hands with a small shrug. “Truth is, he just wanted to help me see you.”

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything, Donghyuck grinned. “Guess I’m still the guy who gets what I want, huh?”

You laughed despite yourself. “Looks like it.”

“Yeah. Not all the time now, though. Just sometimes.”

It was strange, this conversation. Maybe time really does heal everything, or maybe you were already healed on your own before today. Either way, as you sat there with Donghyuck laughing, catching up, and looking back on the wildest days of your youth so far, your heart felt lighter and the world seemed to shine brighter with his smile.

“That’s my ride,” he said at one point, looking outside the cafe. You followed his gaze and spotted Taeyong standing by the curb, leaning against the car, waiting. 

You turned back to Donghyuck, feeling just a tiny bit sad that this chat was almost over. “Well. I guess this is it.”

He nodded, watching you carefully. “Don’t forget me, okay?”

You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head. “I don’t think I could if I tried. This scar right here spells your name out,” you quipped, pointing to the scar on your elbow which you got from the accident.

Donghyuck reached to feel it, his touch gentle and warm. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” you said, watching his solemn expression. “I got it after you saved me, so, thank you for this.”

Something passed through his eyes, something unreadable that he masked with a smirk. “Yeah. Not really exciting. I’m more used to leaving bruises on your neck than scars that don’t disappear.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Sucks to be you. You won’t be leaving bruises on this neck anymore.”

Donghyuck made a show of clutching his broken heart. “What have I done?” he whined, fake-crying.

That made you laugh, and in the quiet that followed, you reached forward and squeezed his hand, offering him one last comforting smile. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“You too,” he murmured, squeezing your hand back.

As you both stepped out of the cafe, you turned to Taeyong, who gave you a small nod, like he knew what this moment meant to you. “Thanks,” you told him sincerely.

He didn’t ask questions, just nodded again and slipped into the car with Donghyuck. You watched them drive away with a comforting sense of fulfillment blooming in your chest. Then you noticed a presence appearing beside you, and you didn’t even have to turn to know who it was.

“You good?” Jaemin asked, peering down at your face.

You chuckled, linking your arm through his as you started walking. “I’m fine. We had our closure. He’s okay, and I’m okay. So I’m fine.”

“Good. I was just asking to make sure you didn’t break down crying,” he teased.

You scoffed, hitting his arm. “That’s right. Make fun of someone’s heart ache. Ha. Ha. Ha.”

Jaemin grinned, giving your hand a small squeeze. The moment passed, fading into the rest of your day.

You weren’t sure when it started feeling different. Maybe it was after the first time you grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. Or maybe it was in the moments in between, the ones that had nothing to do with kissing.

But the kissing didn’t stop. It was easy to blame it on your body. That was the logical answer, wasn’t it? You hadn’t had any action in a while, and now Jaemin was right there, warm and solid, tempting and willing. The way he kissed you made your skin burn, made your stomach flutter, made you crave more. It had to be that. Just chemistry. Just a reaction to touch and proximity—a biological response, if you please.

And yet, in the late hours of the night, when you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, it was never just the stolen kisses that stayed in your mind.

It was the way he always waited for you after class. The way he pulled you to the inside of the sidewalk when you walked together, his hand pressing lightly against your lower back. The way he noticed when you were exhausted and handed you a water bottle before you even asked. The way he listened intently whenever you spoke, no matter how insignificant the topic was.

Jaemin had always been like this. Thoughtful. Gentle. Attentive in ways no one else was. But now, it made you wonder, was it really just because you were his best friend? Or had he always seen you more than just a friend and you were just too blind, too caught up in your own world, to realize it?

It bothered you more than you wanted to admit. It followed you through every sneaky kiss, every whispered tease against your lips, every smirk before he kissed you breathless against some forgotten corner of your apartment. Until, one day, it became too much.

Jaemin was being especially affectionate that afternoon. Not in the usual teasing way, not in the way that led to secret kisses or knowing glances. He was just doting. Leaning close, brushing your hair back, tucking it behind your ear. Making sure you weren’t too cold, giving you his jacket before you even noticed the cold. He smiled at you like you hung the damn stars, his eyes soft and fond.

And you snapped. “Can you please stop acting like my boyfriend?” you blurted, voice sharper than intended.

Jaemin froze, his hands pausing in the middle of adjusting your sleeve. His brows lifted just slightly, before his expression carefully smoothed over.

“Right,” he said lightly like it was no big deal. But his hands dropped from you, and his gaze grew colder.

You expected him to say something else, maybe throw out a cocky remark, maybe push back. But he just stepped away, nodding like he understood, and left you standing there without another word.

And for some reason, that felt worse than if he had argued with you.

Maybe it was for the best. For the next few days, you and Jaemin kept a comfortable distance from each other. No more stolen moments hidden from other people’s eyes. No more lingering touches. No more knowing glances. You admit it was hard to get used to it, but it was better that way.

One afternoon, when the sun was gentle enough for you to hang out at the quad, and the atmosphere was just like every other day with the usual campus chatter, students huddled in groups, couples hanging out by the benches, laughter echoing from clusters of friends. You were walking with Karina, listening to her rant about an upcoming exam, when something caught your eye.

Jaemin.

He stood a short distance away, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, a relaxed smile on his lips. Beside him, a girl laughed at something he said, her head tilting back slightly, short blonde hair falling over her shoulder. She was pretty—undeniably so. And Jaemin was watching her laugh—amused, warm, unbothered.

“Who’s that?” The question left your mouth before you could think twice about it.

Karina followed your gaze and made a noise of recognition. “Oh. That’s Minjeong.”

You blinked. The name was vaguely familiar, but not enough for you to immediately place it. “Minjeong?”

Karina turned to you, looking genuinely surprised. ��You know, Winter? Jaemin’s ex. You seriously don’t remember?”

Oh. That Minjeong.

You remember her now. She was the girl he had dated last year, the one he had broken up with after a short while. You hadn’t paid much attention to her then—Jaemin had simply told you they didn’t see eye to eye, and you hadn’t questioned it. He never seemed all that affected by the breakup, so you figured it hadn’t been anything serious. But now, standing there watching them, a strange thought lodged itself in your mind. Jaemin lied. 

Because right now, they looked like they were seeing eye to eye just fine.

You swallowed, looking away before you could overthink it any further. Karina, thankfully, moved the conversation along. 

“By the way,” she started, narrowing her eyes slightly, “what’s up with you and Jaemin?”

Your head snapped toward her. “Nothing.”

She gave you a skeptical look. “Really? Because you two seem kinda distant lately. Did you fight?”

“No,” you answered quickly. Because technically, you hadn’t. “There’s no reason for us to fight.”

Karina hummed, unconvinced. “Okay. That’s even more suspicious.”

You frowned. “How is that suspicious?”

“Because you and Jaemin always come up with things to fight about,” she said simply. “If you’re not overly clingy, you’re fighting about something minor. It’s always one or the other.”

You exhaled sharply. “We didn’t fight. And we’re not distant. We’re just being… friends. Like usual.”

“Okay, let’s just say I believe that and you’re not very suspicious right now because I have a feeling you’d snap at me if I push your buttons,” said Karina, stepping back a little.

You rolled your eyes, brushing her comments aside. She wasn’t wrong. You and Jaemin were either attached by the hip or fighting, no in between. You bickered, pushed and pulled like it was second nature. But lately...

Lately, he had given you space. After what you’d said to him, after the way his expression had cooled and he had simply left, he had kept his distance. And somehow, that felt worse than all the arguments in the world.

It was cliché at this point. Your life wasn’t some rom-com flick, but it seemed to be thriving on predictable storylines. Like right now—just when you were struggling to figure out what to do about this whole mess with Jaemin, of course, someone had to show up to stir things up.

Admitting you were jealous was the last thing you wanted to do. Because doing so meant admitting that you liked him as more than a friend. And acknowledging that meant defeat. You didn’t like defeat. Love and relationships had defeated you several times before. You weren’t about to let it happen again.

And yet, there she was. Minjeong—Winter—whatever people called her now. She was pretty. Endearing. Adorable, even. The kind of girl that made it impossible to dislike her. And that just made it worse. 

She was likable. Genuinely likable. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hate her, which would have been easier. But that didn’t change the fact that seeing her next to Jaemin made something twist in your chest

And Jaemin? He looked… happy? That smile, the way his eyes crinkled as he watched her laugh at something he said. It was the kind of look you’d seen a hundred times before, but right now, you hated it. Right now, you wanted to forfeit your pride, march over there, and pull him away from her.

Which was stupid. You were being stupid. You took a deep breath, shaking off the thought just as you passed their table.

“Lunch?” Jaemin offered casually, as if he weren’t sitting there with his ex.

You barely spared him a glance. “No, thanks,” you said curtly, your voice colder than you intended. You walked past him and went straight to your friends’ table.

Karina raised an eyebrow when you plopped down across from her, stabbing your fork into your food a little too aggressively. “So… that’s a ‘no’ to talking things out?” she asked dryly.

You exhaled sharply, refusing to look back at Jaemin’s table. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you muttered.

Karina hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Right. And I’m Beyonce’s daughter.”

You weren’t proud of it, but your mood had been awful all week. You snapped at Renjun over something trivial, ignored Jaemin’s messages, and couldn’t focus in class because every time you blinked, you saw her—Winter, laughing, tilting her head toward Jaemin like he was the most interesting person in the room. And Jaemin? He was eating it up.

You buried yourself in your studies, submitting assignments ahead of deadline, studying for quizzes, and doing advance reading. You used to hate presentations, but you were thankful for having one because you had something to keep your mind off of things.

But at the end of the day, when you were done with everything and fatigue was catching up to you fast, all you wanted was a familiar, comforting presence to keep you sane. Giselle and Karina were unavailable. Renjun might be free but you weren’t close enough to hang out with just the two of you.

Jaemin was your only choice. Not that it was because you were out of options, in fact, he’d always been the first choice. So when you finally caved and texted him, you were completely caught off-guard by his answer.

You: Are you free? Nana: No.

It was a simple response. Nothing inherently wrong with it. But it didn’t come with an apology, or an I’ll see you later, or even a What’s up?—just No.

And that stung, squeezing painfully at your heart. But what really did it was seeing him a few minutes later, leaving the library with Winter, laughing at something she said.

You were sitting on the steps just outside the entrance, waiting for Giselle, when you spotted them. Jaemin had his hands in his pockets, casual and unbothered, while Winter gestured about something, her voice cute and teasing. They stopped a few feet away, still talking, and you had a front-row seat to the easy, unhurried way Jaemin listened to her, the amused smirk tugging at his lips.

He looked like he had all the time in the world for her. Not even a few minutes ago, he had been too busy for you.

You sat there, gripping your phone, overthinking every possible meaning behind this moment. Had he chosen to spend time with her instead? Was he making some kind of decision without telling you?

And then, as if he could sense someone’s eyes on him, Jaemin turned his head, his eyes landing on you.

Your heart leaped to your throat. This was it. This was the moment where he’d see you, where he’d realize you were right there, waiting. Where he’d excuse himself and come over because that’s just what Jaemin would do.

Except… he didn’t. He looked at you, waved with a smile, then turned back to Winter and kept walking.

The impact was immediate, a slap to the face without ever being touched. You didn’t even realize Giselle had arrived until she waved a hand in front of your face. “Earth to you. Are you okay?”

You exhaled through your nose, keeping a neutral expression. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

You stood up, stuffing your hands into your jacket pockets, willing yourself not to look back. But Giselle had seen exactly what you had been staring at.

“Huh,” she mused as you both started walking. “Didn’t expect that.”

You sighed. “Expect what?”

Giselle jerked her chin toward Jaemin and Winter. “Them, hanging out again. I thought they ended things on bad terms.”

Your fingers curled inside your pockets. “You knew about them?”

Giselle shot you a confused look. “Of course, I knew. You did too. She used to give Jaemin hell for always hanging out with you.”

Your steps faltered. Right, there was that. If the two of them were together trying to rekindle their old relationship, of course, she wouldn’t want Jaemin hanging out with you. She used to hate it before, and she had no reason to like it now. Especially if she knew you and Jaemin had crossed the line.

But knowing that made you angrier. Why would he try to get back with his ex just days after being rejected by you? Was Jaemin always like this? Fickle and move on to the next girl as soon as he was done with one?

You knew you were overthinking things. You knew Jaemin wasn't that kind of guy. But the thought still made you seethe.

Jaemin was waiting when you got home. You barely glanced at him as you kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag onto the couch, your exhaustion amplified with irritation. You had spent hours at the café, helping yourself to a single drink, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, trying (and failing) to distract yourself from the mess in your head.

“Where were you?” Jaemin asked, his voice casual. “Had dinner yet?”

You didn’t look at him as you walked toward the kitchen. “Out. And I’m not hungry.”

Jaemin, of course, didn’t let that slide. “Out where?”

You opened the fridge, staring blankly at its contents. “Why do you care?”

Silence. Then, slowly, carefully, he said, “Are you mad? You sound mad.” 

That did it. The way he said it like he genuinely didn’t know, like he couldn’t possibly fathom why you might be upset, snap the tiny thread holding your patience together. You shut the fridge door, finally turning to face him. “Why would I be mad, Jaemin?” you said, voice cool, almost mocking. “It’s not like I expected anything from you.”

Jaemin blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me.” You crossed your arms, your pulse hammering. “I asked if you were free. You said no. And then five minutes later, there you were, walking out of the library with your ex-girlfriend who used to hate my guts. Laughing, smiling, acting like you had all the time in the world.”

Realization dawned in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything, so you pushed further, your voice gaining an edge. “So forgive me for assuming I wasn’t worth squeezing into your very busy schedule, and getting mad about it.”

Jaemin exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “Are you serious?”

You laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Oh, I promise you, I’m dead serious.”

“You’re mad because I was with Winter?”

“I don’t know, Jaemin, should I be?”

His expression darkened. “Oh, come on. You know what that was.”

“Do I?” You shot back. “Because from where I was sitting, it looked a hell of a lot like you choosing her over me.”

Jaemin stared at you, his jaw tightening. “That’s not what that was! You’re jumping into conclusion and it’s not fair.”

“Neither is you acting like I’m supposed to be fine with being ditched without so much as an explanation! You’re the one who acted like you’d literally combust if I so much as disappear from your sight, now you pick someone over me like I’m nothing?” The words came out louder than you intended, echoing in the small space between you.  

The silence that followed was loud and suffocating. Jaemin took a step closer, his voice softer now, but no less intense. “You’re the one who told me to stop acting like your boyfriend.”

Your breath caught in your throat, but he wasn’t done yet. “And now, what? You’re mad that I did?” He tilted his head, eyes searching yours. “What do you want?”

You wanted to yell at him. To push him away. To tell him he was an idiot for not knowing, for not seeing. But you had to stop yourself. Because to answer that question, to say the words out loud, meant admitting the truth. And you weren’t ready for that.

So you did what you always did when things got too real. You turned away. “Forget it,” you muttered, moving to walk past him.

Jaemin didn’t let you. Before you could take another step, his hand caught your wrist, yanking you back just enough for you to stumble into him. His arms caged you in, backing you against the counter. “Jaemin—”

“Tell me.” His voice was low, his face inches from yours. His grip on your wrist wasn’t tight, but it was firm, keeping you there. “Tell me why you’re mad. Or I’ll make you.”

Your breath hitched at the promise in his tone. Your heart was hammering so loudly you were sure he could hear it. And then, before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “I was jealous, okay?”

The second the confession left your lips, you saw the glint of relief in his eyes. His grip loosened, but he didn’t pull away. He just stood there, watching you with a smile threatening to tug at his lips.

Heat crawled up your neck. “You knew,” you blurted out and the smirk he was concealing finally revealed itself. 

He knew and he just wanted you to say it out loud. Annoyed, you tried to twist out of his hold, but Jaemin was faster. He caught your face in his hands, tilting it up, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones.

“You’re jealous?” he echoed softly, like he needed to hear it again to believe it.

“Na Jaemin, I swear to god—” He didn’t let you finish. His lips crashed against yours, stealing whatever excuse, whatever deflection you were about to throw out. It wasn’t like the other times. It wasn’t teasing, wasn’t playful. It was urgent, consuming, an answer to every question you refused to ask.

You gasped, and Jaemin took the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, pressing you further into the counter. One hand slid down, gripping your waist, the other tangling in your hair. You should have stopped him. Should have shoved him away. But instead, your hands found his shoulders, clinging to him like your life depended on it.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless. “You’re jealous,” he said again, softer this time.

You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into his shirt. “Shut up.”

Jaemin chuckled. “Winter and I… we—” He paused, searching for the words. “It’s not what you think.”

Your stomach flipped. “It better not be,” you scoffed, hiding behind the mask of nonchalance. Jaemin chuckled.

“I wasn’t choosing her over you.” His fingers brushed against your cheek. “We got paired for a group project and we’ve been working on it all week. Earlier when you texted me, we were heading out to submit it.”

You stared at him, still breathless, your mind scrambling to process what he just said. A group project. That was it? That was all it was?

The weight in your chest lifted so suddenly that you nearly laughed at yourself. The past week—your overthinking, your jealousy, the way you’d lashed out at him—had all been over something so stupid.

“Oh my god.” You shut your eyes, mortified. “You’re kidding.”

“Wouldn’t joke about this,” said Jaemin laughing. “I’m sorry, I should have explained it at least.”

You groaned, dropping your forehead against his shoulder. “I’m actually gonna die of embarrassment.”

He chuckled, his arms wrapping fully around you now. “Yeah? Well, you should know I’d never choose anyone before you. There’s no one above you, silly.”

“This is why you don’t have a girlfriend, Jaemin,” you chided, pulling back to glare at him. “You can’t just put me first over everything.”

Jaemin only smirked, his fingers tightening at your waist. “I don’t want a girlfriend. You’re all I want.”

“Don’t say that,” you muttered, burying your face in his chest. “What if I can’t reciprocate?”

“Well, you were jealous of me and my ex,” he murmured, his tone teasing, but there was something else underneath it—something smug, satisfied. “That’s a good start.”

“Oh my god, enough!” you huffed, pushing him away and trying to escape his hold but he was quick to lift you by the waist, setting you down on the counter.

Before you could argue, before you could even think of something to say that would salvage your dignity, Jaemin kissed you again, lips moving against yours with a heat that sent your mind spiraling. His hands held you firmly, one on your waist, the other cradling your face like he was afraid you’d pull away.

You weren’t pulling away. That fact alone should have set off alarms in your head, but right now, you didn’t care. Not about pride, not about the mess between you, not about the fact that this was probably the worst way to handle your emotions.

Just as you were starting to get consumed by the heat of his touch, Jaemin pulled away and you scoffed before you could even think twice about it.

“You’re so annoying,” you muttered against his lips.

Jaemin exhaled a breathless laugh, looking up at you with that handsome grin he always had on. “And you’re stubborn.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, his voice lower now, rough with restraint. “I thought you didn’t want me acting like your boyfriend.”

You swallowed, your heart beating wildly as you met his gaze. “I don’t,” you whispered, slipping your hand inside the collar of his shirt to rub his back. “But I still want you.”

Jaemin went still for a split second, his grip tightening. “Say that again,” he said—no, he pleaded, eyes glassy with desperation and desire.

“I want you, Jaemin,” you obliged, swallowing shyly.

His mouth crashed onto yours, all restraints melting away. The kiss was deeper, messier, a collision of breath and want, like he was finally letting himself feel everything he’d been holding back. You barely had time to process before he wrapped your legs around his torso, lifted you from the counter, and carried you across the apartment into his bedroom, his body hot against yours.

His hands skimmed down your waist, sliding under the hem of your sweater, palms warm against your skin. His lips moved down to your jaw, then lower, lingering at the soft spot beneath your ear. Jaemin groaned when you arched your hips against his crotch, his grip on your hips tightening like he was holding himself back—like he was still trying to be careful. But you didn’t want careful. You wanted reckless.

You tugged his shirt off, fingers tracing the smooth lines of his back as he pressed you down into the mattress. His lips were feverish, moving with a desperation that sent heat pooling low in your stomach. When he pulled back to look at you, his pupils were blown wide, his chest rising and falling like he was struggling to catch his breath.

“Let me.” His voice was rough, hand sliding down your thigh. “Let me take care of you.” His fingers found the waistband of your shorts, toying with the fabric like he was waiting for permission, but you just spread your legs wider.

He cursed under his breath before his lips were on your throat again, trailing lower, his hands already working to get rid of the last pieces of clothing you both had. Every touch was hot as he whispered promises against your skin—promises he was more than ready to keep.

He lowered himself, head disappearing between your legs. He took a sniff, nose pressing against your sex before he licked a stripe on it.

“Jaemin,” you breathed, your entire body burning with anticipation and want.

Jaemin responded by sucking at your cunt, making you gasp as the first bout of pleasure washed over you. He kept at it, lapping and licking, fucking you with his tongue while you writhed and moaned. You clutched your fingers at his hair, wanting so much to push him away, but you kept pulling his face closer for more.

He rose to meet your gaze at one point, with a smirk gracing his lips, making you lose your mind further because of how hot he looked. 

“If you keep shouting like that…” he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your lips as his finger slipped into your sex. He kissed you again just when you were about to moan. “...the neighbors will hear and they’ll know.”

You didn’t care, but you covered your mouth anyway, biting your lower lip as well to make sure you weren’t too loud. Jaemin moved his fingers, in and out, curling and pressing, all while watching every shift in your reaction. When he pushed another finger inside, you failed to stifle a gasp, your hand flying to his arm and squeezing it tightly. 

“Shh,” he shushed gently, kissing you once before he went down on you again. And he took his time, teasing, tasting, dragging out every moment until you were trembling beneath him, nails digging into his shoulders in a feeble attempt to not lose your mind at the mind-blowing orgasm that washed over you.

Jaemin kissed you again as he positioned himself between your legs, his manhood prodding your entrance. “Tell me you want this.”

Your hands found their way on his chest, feeling the firm muscles, the way his stomach tensed at your touch. You nodded, still dazed, already losing yourself in him.

“Use your words, baby,” Jaemin coaxed, his voice a little uneven now, like he was barely keeping himself together.

You reached to cup his cheek. “I want this. I want you, Jaemin,” you whispered, and his answering curse was swallowed by your lips as he kissed you again.

His lips on yours muffled the gasps you let out when he slid his manhood in—rough despite the wetness of your orgasm, stretching you impossibly wide. “You okay?” he asked, voice strained with concern.

You nodded quickly, overwhelmed, and he kissed you again, swallowing your soft whimper. “Relax for me,” he whispered soothingly. “I’ve got you.”

He moved with a patience that contradicted the way his body trembled against yours, like he wanted to take his time, like he was memorizing every sound and expression you made. His hands traced along your ribs, slow and reverent, before sliding down to your thighs, gripping them with just enough force to make your breath hitch. His movements were steady, his thrusts heavy as he pounded into you.

“You feel so good,” he breathed against your lips, his voice wrecked. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

You barely had time to respond before he kissed you again, deeper, stealing the air from your lungs. His hands slid higher, exploring every inch of exposed skin, setting your nerves on fire. When he started ramming harder, you let out broken gasps and whimpers, and that sound had him gripping you tighter.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, lips brushing along your jawline, his breath hot against your skin. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

You swallowed, eyes rolling back as you held onto him for dear life. “I don’t know,” you admitted in a ragged voice, but Jaemin just hummed, nipping lightly at the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

“Yes, you do,” he coaxed, straightening up on his knee and gripping both of you thighs as he tried to plunge in as deep as he could. “You want this.”

“Harder,” you managed to croak out, shutting your eyes as he drove you further into the edge.

Jaemin hummed, and you could picture the smirk on his lips. “Harder, yes?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, desire clouding your judgment. “Please.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised before obliging. 

Every touch, every kiss, every reassurance had you melting beneath him. He was everywhere, and you wanted more of him. Needed more of him. He gave you everything. He kissed his way down your body, slow and reverent. Every time you gasped, every time your breath hitched, he murmured against your skin—

“That’s it, baby.” “You’re so beautiful like this.” “Let me make you feel good.”

And you did. More than you ever had before. And when he finally pushed you past the point of no return, you realized—he had always been there to catch you. You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as Jaemin exhaled a shaky breath, his forehead pressing against yours before collapsing above you.

The silence between you was jarring. It was the kind silence that didn’t belong in a space that had only ever been filled with teasing, bickering, and laughter. The sheets were tangled between your legs, your skin still warm from being touched by Jaemin. But the aftermath of the warmth that had consumed you moments ago was heavy.

Regret wasn’t the word—not exactly. But uncertainty sat heavily in your chest, and you hated it. You exhaled, staring at the ceiling, before finally voicing the question that had been gnawing at you since the haze of desire dissipated. “What now?” 

Your voice came out quieter than expected. You turned your head to look at him. “Why did we do this? What if we ruined everything?”

Jaemin was propped up on one elbow, watching you, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. He didn’t look the least bit conflicted. If anything, he looked like a man who had finally gotten what he wanted.

He smiled. “Baby, we were done the moment you kissed me in front of that fridge a few weeks ago. This friendship? It ended right then and there.”

You swallowed, trying to make sense of his words. “I never wanted to be friends with you anyway,” he added, voice soft but unwavering. “Did you forget that?”

You hummed. “Isn’t that kind of a betrayal, though?” You searched his face, looking for something—an answer, a reassurance, maybe even a reason to argue. “You’ve loved me all these years, and here I was, thinking you were my best friend.”

Jaemin’s eyes darkened, but not in the way they had earlier. This was something more profound. “I do love you,” he admitted. “But not all these years.”

Your heart lurched painfully. “What—”

“I liked you when we were younger,” he clarified, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around your wrist. “But we became friends, so I let it go. You were happy with other people, and I was happy being the one who stood beside you.” He exhaled, the tension in his grip loosening. “I only realized I loved you now. Not because I was waiting, not because I was hoping, but because tonight, you looked at me the way I used to look at you.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The way he said it, so simple yet so profound, left you at a loss. “You’re so cheesy,” you muttered instead, forcing lightness into your tone.

Jaemin only chuckled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s okay. I know you’ll love me anyway.”

It was sweet. He was sweet. And for a split second, you wanted to believe in the warmth of this moment, in the possibility that maybe you could finally have something good.

But then reality sank its claws into you, dragging you back down. You weren’t in the right headspace for this. Not now. Maybe not ever. Your heart still bore the scars of past failures, of love stories that had ended in ruins. You didn’t trust yourself to make this work, to not destroy something before it even had the chance to grow.

You couldn’t risk it. Especially not with Jaemin, your best friend, your emergency contact—the one person you knew would have your back no matter what happened.

The hesitation must have shown on your face because Jaemin’s expression shifted. He didn’t look disappointed. He didn’t even look surprised. If anything, he just looked patient.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, stroking your cheek. “You can take your time.”

Your throat tightened. “And if I never push through with it?”

Jaemin smiled, something achingly fond in his gaze. “Then I’ll still be here. And I won’t hate you for it.”

That was the thing about Jaemin. He never asked for more than you were willing to give. And somehow, that made you want to give him everything.

Jaemin didn’t hesitate when he asked for his right to act on his feelings. He promised he wouldn’t push too far, wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want, but he wanted to be able to touch you, hold you, kiss you when he felt like it. And for some reason, you didn’t push him away. Maybe because deep down, you liked it too much. Maybe because it was easier to indulge than to fight it.

So you let it happen. You let him linger closer, let his hands find yours whenever you were within reach. You let yourself fall into his presence, allowing the way he touched you to become something you expected, something you craved, even if you wouldn’t say it out loud.

Mornings changed first. You got used to waking up to the press of his body against yours, to the weight of his arm over your waist. He was always warm, always impossibly comfortable. Jaemin, who once used to be the one dragging you out of bed, now found excuses to keep you there. 

If you tried to get up, he’d pull you right back, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck. “Five more minutes.” 

You’d roll your eyes, and push at his chest, only for him to hug you tighter, murmuring something about how you smelled too nice for him to let go yet. You always huffed at him, but you never actually pulled away.

Jaemin took care of you in the smallest, most effortless ways. Your coffee was already waiting for you before you even asked. On mornings when you slept in, he’d slip into your room just to leave a cup on your nightstand, the smell of roasted beans waking you up before the sunlight even had the chance.

When you cooked together, he always found ways to touch you. Guiding you from behind when you stirred the pot, his hands sliding to your waist like it was second nature. He’d taste whatever you were making and hum in approval, then kiss the side of your head just because.

He always looked at you like that too, like you were something precious, something his. And you let him.

The little touches never stopped. A hand on the small of your back when he passed by. Fingers brushing your cheek as he tucked your hair behind your ear. When you got too focused, too lost in your work, he’d lean in and press a quick kiss to your cheek, just to remind you that he was still there. He did it so casually, so confidently, like touching you was as easy as breathing.

But it wasn’t just at home where things changed. At school, Jaemin was just as affectionate. He sat closer than usual, his knee bumping against yours under the table, his hand resting on your lower back whenever he leaned in to speak. He stole sips from your drinks, stole bites of your food, stole every excuse to touch you in ways that, had anyone been paying closer attention, would have looked like something far more than friendship.

But no one noticed. Because, to them, you and Jaemin had always been this way—close, affectionate, orbiting around each other like you were both integral parts of each other. No one questioned it when he pulled you onto his lap during movie nights at Giselle’s place because it was easier than sharing the small couch. No one batted an eye when he draped an arm over your shoulders at lunch, absentmindedly playing with your hair as he listened to Karina talk about weekend plans. Not even Giselle, who usually had a sharp eye for these things, suspected anything when Jaemin took your bag without a word and slung it over his shoulder, carrying it for you.

You could feel it though. The way Jaemin’s touches lingered just a second longer than they used to. The way he watched you when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he whispered your name sometimes, like it was something he was still getting used to saying with affection and love.

You caught yourself looking for him. When he wasn’t home yet, you listened for the sound of the door unlocking, for his familiar voice calling out to you. You never used to notice it before, but now, your shared space felt off without him in it. And when he was home, you never questioned why it felt better.

One night, you slipped up. You were half-asleep, curled up against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling you gently. And maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the warmth, or maybe it was just him, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

"Don’t go. I'll be lonely without you."

Jaemin stilled. Then his arms tightened around you, his lips pressing on the top of you head. "I’m not going anywhere."

And that was how you lived—entangled in something unlabeled, something neither of you tried to question or define. He didn’t ask for more. You didn’t push him away.

Nana: You’re fine with getting new housemates, right?

You frowned at your phone. You asked him to get groceries, and he’s talking about getting housemates?

You: No. Nana: Not even gonna ask who they are first? You: Doesn’t matter. The answer is still no. Nana: That’s unfair. You should at least meet them before deciding. You: It’s my apartment. I get the final say. Nana: you mean, OUR apartment.

You: I still get the final say. Nana: What if I just bring them over for a quick dinner? No pressure, just introductions. You: I don’t see how that changes anything. Nana: You might change your mind. You: I won’t. Nana: … Nana: So that’s a yes to dinner?

You sighed, already regretting your decision.

You: Fine. But it’s still a no. Nana: Noted.

About an hour later, you heard the front door open and close, followed by the unmistakable sound of Jaemin kicking off his shoes. You looked up, expecting to see him with, what? Two guys? A couple of friends in need of a place to crash? Instead, Jaemin stood in the doorway, grinning like a kid who had just done something he wasn’t supposed to.

In his arms was a fluffy cat with wide, curious eyes. Another poked its head out of the bag slung across his chest. And at his feet, a third cat rubbed against his legs like it had already claimed him as its personal human. 

You blinked. “Jaemin.”

“Yeah?” he asked, completely nonchalant as he set the cat in his arms down on the floor.

You gestured at the trio of kitties now sniffing around your apartment. “What the hell is this?”

Jaemin crouched to scratch behind the ears of the one that had been circling his ankles. “This,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “is Luna, Lucy, and Luke. Our new housemates.”

You stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Jaemin finally looked up, smiling at you in that sweet, boyish way that usually meant he had done something ridiculous but wanted you to let it slide. “They needed a home.”

“That’s not an answer.” You pointed accusingly at the one sitting on the couch now, making itself comfortable. “Jaemin, we never talked about getting a cat. Let alone three.”

“I know.” He stood, brushing off his jeans. “But a senior from our department is graduating and she couldn't take them home with her. She was looking for someone who could adopt them, and I was only gonna get one but then she told me they’re siblings and have to stay together. And I just can’t leave them, can I?”

“So you thought bringing all three of them home was a good idea?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice to that soft, coaxing tone he always used when he was trying to win you over. “You love cats.”

“That’s not the point.”

“They love you already,” he continued. “Look.”

You felt something nuzzle against your leg. Looking down, you saw Luna—Luke? Lucy? Whatever—purring up at you, their big round eyes full of innocence. Your heart softened, but you refused to let it show.

Jaemin noticed anyway. His smirk was triumphant. “Oh, they are sooo staying.”

You sighed heavily, pouting with your shoulders sagging in defeat. “I hate you.”

Jaemin laughed, leaning in to kiss your temple. “No, you don’t.” Then he hugged you from behind, squeezing you gently as he watched the cats now making themselves comfortable in their new home. “So, should we get them matching collars, or is that too much?”

Your last semester of college came too soon, slipping through your fingers like the pages of a book you weren’t ready to close. Life moved forward whether you were prepared or not, and with it, your friends were the first to step into their next chapters.

Karina and Giselle walked the stage that spring, struggling to keep their caps in place as they jumped into each other’s arms. Renjun beamed as he shook hands with professors, looking a little smug in his honors sash. Even Jaemin, who always brushed off big moments like these, cracked a self-satisfied smile when his name was called. You cheered for them, clapped until your hands hurt, and posed for pictures, but there was no denying the way it felt watching them leave while you stayed behind.

The halls of NCIT felt emptier without Karina’s complaints about deadlines and Giselle’s dramatic reenactments of campus drama. But Jaemin was still there. He hadn’t packed up and left like the others. While everyone else dove headfirst into their careers, he stayed, taking time off instead of immediately stepping into the expectations waiting for him outside college walls.

His days were spent taking care of you, spending time with you, helping you with homework, and piecing together his photography portfolio, and somehow, you became the centerpiece of it.

“Look at me.” Jaemin’s voice was soft but insistent as he crouched in front of you, camera in his hands.

You huffed, tearing your gaze away from the book you weren’t really reading. “I am looking at you.”

He clicked his tongue. “No, you’re glaring at me.”

“Because you’re being annoying,” you retorted. Jaemin grinned, completely unaffected. 

“Let’s try that again,” he said. You sighed but gave in, letting your eyes meet the lens, expression softening just a little. He snapped the photo immediately, and from the way his face lit up, you could tell he got exactly what he wanted.

“Perfect,” he murmured, flipping the camera around to show you.

You tried not to let it get to you, but there was something about the way he saw you, how his lenses captured you as someone important, someone loved.

The cats were an extension of the both of you, curling up on Jaemin’s chest when he sprawled on the couch, purring on your legs when you stood in the kitchen. Jaemin spoiled them rotten—Luna got her favorite sunspot by the window all to herself, Lucy got head pats on demand, and Luke had claimed Jaemin’s lap as his personal throne. 

“Traitor,” you had muttered once when Luke chose Jaemin over you. 

“They just love me more,” Jaemin had teased, scratching behind Luke’s ears with a smirk.

This was how things had been between you two. Ever since that night, the night you crossed a line you could never uncross, nothing really changed yet somehow, everything had. 

Jaemin never held back anymore. He was more affectionate, more attentive, like he wasn’t afraid of pushing too far. He called you baby like it was the most natural thing in the world, pulled you into his arms whenever he felt like it, and pressed kisses to your forehead without hesitation. 

He worshipped you in the privacy of your apartment, uttered your name like it would hurt him not to do so, touched your skin like you were the most precious thing he had ever touched, ever kissed, and ever laid his eyes on. He loved you in and out, and you basked in his attention, his affection, and his unwavering loyalty.

Maybe you should have stopped it, maybe you should have told him to slow down, but the truth was, you liked it. You liked how easy it was, how warm it felt. You liked not having to question what you meant to him anymore.

And Jaemin never asked for more than what you could give. He let you take your time, let you figure it out in your own way. So you spent the rest of the semester like that, somewhere between best friends and something more.

When your turn to graduate finally arrived, they were all there—Karina, Giselle, Renjun, Ningning, everyone who had been with you through the years. They cheered for you just as loudly as you had for them, but it was Jaemin who stood out the most. He was impossible to miss, holding your bouquet like it was his accomplishment, snapping pictures as if he were paid to do it.

The ceremony was long, the speeches were boring, but it didn’t matter. You had done it.

It wasn’t until the reception that Karina’s eyes narrowed at Jaemin when he leaned over to fix your cap. “Baby, your tassel’s on the wrong side,” he murmured, adjusting it before you could react.

Karina gawked. “Did you just—? Did he just call you baby?”

Giselle nearly choked on her drink. Renjun gave you a slow, knowing smirk. You felt your stomach drop.

“What?” Jaemin blinked, completely unfazed. “I’ve been calling her that since earlier.”

“You have not,” Karina accused.

“Yes, he has,” Renjun said, crossing his arms. “You guys just don’t listen.”

Giselle let out a scandalized gasp. “Oh my god. Were you guys—? Since when?”

“I’m gonna get more food,” you blurted, grabbing Jaemin’s wrist and dragging him away before anyone could interrogate you further. He let you, chuckling under his breath.

Later that week, when the celebrations died down and you were finally hauled the last box of your stuff outside your apartment complex, you glanced back at NCIT right across the street and thought about the years you had spent in this place, all the moments that had led you here.

The late-night cramming sessions, the spontaneous road trips, the heartbreaks, and the reckless decisions. Every piece of your college life was shaped by the people who walked it with you.

Giselle, Karina, and Ningning, your constants through every breakdown and triumph, who saw you at your worst and never let you stay there for too long. They made the ordinary feel special, turned bad days into bearable ones, and stayed no matter how messy life got,

Renjun taught you friendship and admiration. You haven’t heard from Yangyang for a long time now, but you’d never forget his cheshire cat smile and how he taught you to live in the moment. Jeno taught you patience and the importance of putting yourself first. What you had with Donghyuck ended before it had the chance to properly begin, but the memories of your youth will always have him in it. 

Love in the eyes of a college student was everything and anything. It was stupid, it was dumb. It was exhilarating, it was euphoric. It was slow, it was fast. It was damning, but also freeing. Such are the highs and lows of college romances. At the end of it all, you leave it all behind and move on with your life.

“Baby!” Jaemin’s voice cut through your thoughts. You glanced over your shoulder, smiling at the sight of him waving happily and beckoning you over to his car. “Time to go!”

You took one last look at the campus that had been your whole world for the past few years, exhaling softly. Then you walked toward him, toward the future.

Because some things, you take with you.

You walked toward him, fishing your phone from inside your pocket. Jaemin leaned in to peer at your screen. “What are you doing?”

“Sending one last entry to Campus Confessions.”

“Campus Confessions? NCIT's confessions page?”

“Yes.”

Jaemin gasped. “You send entries to CC?”

“I do, sometimes,” you replied, getting into the car.

“For whom?” he pressed, sitting on the driver's seat looking perplexed and surprised. “Did you just send a last minute confession to a crush or something?”

“Start driving. We're way behind schedule as it is.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, but didn't argue. You smiled as you watched him seethe in his seat, driving the car away from the apartment complex.

To: NCIT Long story short, I survived. - x

[fin]

[ajortga]

truth be told

pairing: cairo sweet x fem reader

summary: when cairo catches herself falling in love, she also catches herself in lies that were destined to bite back in the end

word count: 4.3k

author's note: hi guys:)

-

Cairo Sweet wasn’t sure when she had started stalking you.

‘It’s not stalking, I just happen to know where she’s at’ she’d say, although at this point, she caught herself following suite wherever you went.

It began when she had the ability to start noticing. Of course she had noticed things before, like how Mr. Miller would tap his foot like a ticking time bomb, or how she’d know people were lying if their eyes flickered around too much. 

But it was a different kind of noticing. Noticing how you would be styled in jeans and a top that was her favorite color. It was a coincidence, she had never acknowledged you enough to share that her favorite color was navy. 

You and Cairo had gone through years of school together, yet you both had never come to a point where you became friends. It was strange, how you could know someone for such an obscure amount of time yet not enough to wave a hello?

Until, well, something had happened–you were both in Mr. Miller’s class, and Cairo’s wandering eyes had landed on you while you were writing words quickly on your paper. 

She shouldn’t have found you blowing your bangs to the side so hot.

What. The. Fuck.

Cairo didn’t know what happened.

In a blink of an eye, you began to appear everywhere, why was it after her? To just notice it now?

It started off small; she’d pack up slower when the bell had rung, and once you slipped out of Mr. Miller’s classroom, she’d stay a modest distance behind you just enough to know what your next class was.

By the end of the week, she knew every single class you had. She found out you went to your film class and forensics workshop for office hours. 

Suddenly, Cairo Sweet was chasing. Chasing you. God forbid how much she wanted to catch you, like you were some billion dollar auction to win.

And no matter how many fucking dollars someone bid higher than her, she would be the one to win.

You were a month younger than her.

You had an older sister.

You were vice president of your school’s class council.

You liked to read as much as her.

You went to the libraries on Wednesdays.

You went to sleep at 11:50 PM.

You woke up at 6:35 AM.

Your middle name is Y/M/N

Your father’s name is-

Yeah. It was like you were on Cairo’s board of interest. She was calculated, subtle.

The brunette knew that you were into literature just as much as she was. You more interested in the book assignments like she was the writing pieces. 

So, she had stopped by Mr. Miller’s classroom one day after school.

A knock of the door, then a creak open as her platforms stepped inside.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said politely, in a clear voice, slinging her bag to one side as she approached Mr. Miller.

He gave her a polite smile, “Cairo,” he greeted, “You’re lucky, I just finished a meeting, so you’re not. Do you need something?”

Cairo skimmed through her bag, pulling out the book your class was reading. “A favor, I believe I’m slightly trailing behind on the work you’ve assigned on this book. It’s not my cup of tea, so it’s been hard to read. By chance, do you have someone that might be able to help me with explaining the book better?”

She had spent an hour coming up with what to say for all of her answers to eventually lead to you.

Mr. Miller had thought for a moment. “Well, I do agree that this isn’t everybody’s cup of tea, because of the writing style. I suggest you look online for a in depth summary of each chapter.”

Cairo waited patiently.

“But, if you do need more assistance, Y/N has been exceptional with her work based on this book lately. I could ask her if she could help you, only if she agrees, of course. I can ask her tomorrow after class.”

Bingo.

“That’d be perfect, thank you.” Cairo said, her nonchalant voice definitely differing from the smirk that dared to appear on her face.

Mr. Miller nodded slowly, noticing the slip of excitement in her voice as he cleared his throat, “I’ll have to ask her, she does have quite the extracurriculars.”

-

“Cairo Sweet?” You asked with a smooth voice as you entered the room, closing the door of the empty classroom with your backpack slung over your shoulder. You turn to the light switch, turning it off as you switched on another, causing the whole entire room to be lit up with fairy lights.

Y/N, founder of a non-profit organization, captain of the-

You slip into the seat beside her, the light cascading your face in a warm glow. She didn’t realize she was boring holes through your face until you glanced up at her, causing her to look away. “So, Mr. Miller told me yesterday that you’re not quite caught up in what we’re reading. Shakespeare not for you?”

Cairo scoffed lightly, “I’m not into sappy romance, unfortunately. It’s more of, half the time the characters aren’t speaking in modern English. More like the medieval times.”

She was tangling herself in a lie. A lie that might bite back at her later. For the most part, Cairo had absolutely no issue reading the play. She silently told herself that she’d tell you later on. 

You pull out your books and notebooks, “I think that Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy more than romance. But I get what you mean. Here,” you point at your notes, “could you show me what you’ve written for each act so far? I’ll try my best to translate it to something you might understand.”

It was stupid, not being able to do nothing but nod. But at this point, that was all she was capable of.

-

The scent of Cairo’s bedroom was tainted with smoke as she took a hit from her blunt. She scribbled words on her journal that she didn’t even knew she would ever write. 

Sinful, dirty words, about somebody she barely even took notice of.

A flutter of eyelashes, that’s all it took for her to unravel in your hands like putty.

Yet, she couldn’t seem to stop. She never thought how much she could write when she was inspired. 

She was never a sappy person for romantic crap. She wasn’t like Winnie, who’d have a new crush every week, or end up with someone in her bed on Friday nights. 

The weekdays weren’t dreaded anymore. Yet–she felt like she was turning into somebody so corrupted.

Cairo began to shift subjects during your study sessions, ‘accidentally’ brush her hand against yours when taking notes, asking innocently for your phone number so she could ask you questions.

You text her, sometimes. Respond to her texts, tell her little things about your day, like how you were working on your big science project that meant so much to you, maybe text her about the things that you do after school, as if she didn’t know already. 

But gosh, you two had went back and forth one night till midnight. And, you had the audacity to send her a photo of your sleepy self with a messy bun and glasses on. Cairo had scanned the photo for a few minutes straight, how your cheeks were rosy pink from the salt lamp in front of you, your half-lidded eyes dazed with sleep.

Yeah, she had to send you off to bed after that.

Cairo knew that you were the person that could capture the eyes of anybody. You had straight A’s, you spent almost all your weekends volunteering, and you had never seemed to try hard to do what you were doing. You had won the science fair in your district and in the nation. Everyone was always excited for what you were working on now.

She’s seen you, you were that sweet girl, willingly offer somebody half of your home-made food if they were still hungry, pay for your friends food, you had even apologized to somebody who literally hit you straight into the face with a volleyball.

You were the person that people would take advantage of for your kindness.

It just seemed like each time she stepped closer to knowing you more, she’d tangle herself in little white lies. Lies that could’ve been prevented, like she was manipulating you with a persona she couldn’t even catch up with.

And every time, Cairo would take your friendly gestures in the wrong way. She’d savor every drop of the teeniest bit of attention you even gave her. 

When she’d see you smile at her, with a crinkle around your eyes, Cairo almost felt her stomach twist in knots. She had lied about a lot of things. 

She lied about not feeling well, crying so that you stayed with her during lunches. Cairo had told you that she had a sickness. She’d find herself putting an act as you were forced to abandon whatever or whoever you were currently with to sit next to her.

Each time she felt you grow distracted, she’d throw in a lie, to get pity, keep your worried, pretty eyes back on her. And the last thing Cairo would have never imagined herself doing, she had said her grandfather had passed away, from cancer. It was when you had told her you hadn’t been spending time with your family recently because of the three hour long tutoring sessions. Your friends either, Cairo had dragged you away at lunches.

You had knew how much her grandfather meant to her, you’ve heard about him a few times before. The feeling that Cairo was taking advantage of you scratched at her.

She was more than upset, she had other friends, but it made her frustrated. Cairo Sweet always won, she wasn’t going to let you start slipping away. The brunette didn’t even know why she did it, but after she feigned worrisome horror, it was too late. The web of lies keep growing. 

“Oh Cairo, shit. I’m so sorry.” You murmured, your eyes looking guilty.

Guilty for her crying about something that didn’t even exist.

Cairo could see how worried you were for her, how you started calling your friends. It made her bite her cheek, eyes boring at the floor in shame.

Cairo Sweet was a liar. And it’d be back to snap back at her.

It made her sick every time after, lying to you, yet she’d find herself crawling back to jump again.

The truth always bit back.

-

You felt yourself becoming closer to Cairo. She’d invite you at hers almost every night, and you would try coming at least twice every week. Maybe you were slowly drifting apart from others, but Cairo made you forget all about it.

Most of the time, you’d talk, listened, shared. She was sweet, she was Cairo Sweet, after all. And everything she’d say, you’d lend an ear and believe it. You liked her, she’d always be there at the right time at the right moment. 

You never knew how she did it.

Cairo found you beginning to lean your head on her shoulder, fall asleep against her, ask her to hang out on the weekends.

One day, she hoped it would be more. To have the title of a girlfriend.

It was perfect. You were perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

It was another typical day, she approached you as you closed your locker, “Y/N.”

The familiar voice caused your head to turn to her, your eyes crinkling as you smiled, “Hi, Cairo,” you replied, walking alongside her as you both headed to your next class, conveniently being Mr. Millers. “Hope you aren’t tired out today by the rain.”

You watch her as she rolls her eyes playfully, shaking her head as she looks back at you, “You wanna come over to mine and bake later? I’m supposed to be helping fundraise, but that doesn’t mean we can’t keep some for ourselves.” The two of you snicker as you nod and head into Mr. Miller’s class.

“I’ll have to see, I was planning on working on my science project since I’m so close to practically inventing some sort of robot. I’ll have to show you, it’s been working so well with the programming lately-”

“Well, let me know, I’d be happy if you came.”

Somehow, it was the second day you ditched researching for your project. Maybe she should’ve let you keep working on it, whatever you were working on seemed really important to you.

By the time you two went back to her house, you both were stirring the batter of your cupcakes and cookies. 

Cairo was having fun, she could sense that you were too. In the span of a few weeks, you grew comfortable with her, not having to prepare what you were going to say to her without making the conversation awkward. 

You found yourselves laying on her bed as the goodies were baking, you were curled into her, yawning. It was peaceful for you, your quiet thoughts drifting. She feels you turn to observe her, hesitant.

“Do you miss him, sometimes?” 

Cairo looked at you, propping up. “Who?”

“Your grandfather.”

It takes Cairo a few moments, you can see it too. You would say you were good at reading people. But something in her movements didn’t align correctly. 

You would’ve thought that there would be a moment of sadness in her eyes, nostalgia, melancholy. Her eyes always spoke to you, shining, dimming. Yet, they didn’t share the feeling of grief. It was small, but you couldn’t miss the confusion, then full on flicker of panic in her eyes, before in a blink of an eye, it was gone.

Cairo swallows, picks at the skin at the edge of her nails, “A lot,” she forces, avoiding your gaze as she began to travel back to all the times she lied to you about her grandfather. Fuck. What did she talk about? She can’t remember.

Cairo can’t remember.

She sticks to being silent for a moment, “I think that he was the closest thing I had to a best friend when I was little. He always took me out to get ice cream, make secret treasure maps. I think a part of me, well, my whole family died when he passed away from his heart attack.”

She senses something, a shift in your form as you tense slightly. She turns and tilts her head, a question of what happened.

“I thought you said he passed away from cancer?”

Shit.

Cairo straightened, thoughts scrambling as her mind grew foggy. “I mean, yes, he did pass away mostly due to cancer. But the heart attack was.. Well, it was what was the reason it caused him to pass away so early.” 

Please don’t ask anymore questions.

She had ran, ran away from her lies, but they started running faster.

Please let it go.

She could see the way you were studying her, the slight furrow of your eyebrows. She knew that something wasn’t adding up in her timeline. But after a short moment, your eyebrows fell and you leaned back. “Oh, I see.”

Cairo let out a long breath when you scooted closer to her and closed your eyes for a small nap.

-

You wrapped yourself further into your project, your room filled with notebooks of coding, engineering, and all of the information of your possibly new invention of a robot that could help the world.

It meant having to turn down weekend plans, small gatherings, meet-ups with Cairo.

Oh boy. 

The timer for Cairo had ticked again.

She shouldn’t do it. This was something that was important to you.

It would only be till the span of the deadline and you’d be hers again. Hopefully.

But she couldn’t stop. She was already so close to snatching you. 

Just this last time. She’d stop. She promised herself. 

Like the broken promises she had made after each lie she told you.

She had gotten an idea. It wasn’t a good one. Well, it was genius for her. Perfect for her. But she knew that this idea would indefinitely break you and your relationship with her. She was putting it at risk a very high one. If you found out, Cairo knew that it would be over.

She was jeopardizing your relationship, your project, your future,

She would jeopardize you.

And if she ever saw the look on your face once you knew it was her, she’d never forgive herself.

She should stop.

Yet it wasn’t enough for her to stop.

In the morning, Cairo woke up jittery, biting the side of her cheek. The stirring feeling in her stomach stayed as she walked to school, slipping into the hallways.

It had to be quick; you had told her that you were going to drop off your project in Mr. Miller’s classroom and show it to him after class. Cairo couldn’t erase the thought of how proud you looked when you said it, your eyes saying it all. 

Cairo breathed in deeply, shaking her head, pulling a strand of her hair as she cursed. This wasn’t a fucking game. Why couldn’t she just wait a few weeks?

You had spent months researching, building, adjusting. It would take Cairo statistically 8 seconds. Then she’d be out, and by the time she walks to class with you, she’d be hero again. She’d be the killer for 8 seconds, then the rest she’d be the hero long enough to forget about it.

Cairo knew that Mr. Miller would be out with Coach Filmore on Tuesdays, he’d leave the keys in the front office till the time they both came back, with some sort of black coffee.

The brunette was calculated, having a printed schedule she wouldn’t be using as she walked into the office. Nobody batted an eye. 

The next thing she knew, her hands grazed over the doorknob that was under the words

J MILLER

Pressed down slightly, and pushed as she didn’t bother turning on the light. Her hands roamed around the solid, flat area of a wooden desk, searching. She squinted until her fingers hooked against the loophole of the keys and charms of what she was looking for. Holding it in her hand as it jingled, she rushed out.

-

It was at least 15 minutes before the bell would ring. She’d have 10 to make it back and return the keys.

Cairo’s eyes were trained on the building in front of her as she walked, keys jingling, her hands just in reach-

“Hey, Sweet.”

Your soft voice pulled Cairo out of the frenzy she was in as her heels spun quickly. 

“Woah there. Goodmorning to you too.” You giggle, studying her unbelievably pale face. “Are you okay?”

You could read her expressions. You could read anybody in a blink of an eye. But Cairo knew that you could read her better than anybody else. 

“Sorry, yeah, a little jittery. Too much coffee this morning. I really have to do something at the moment, but-”

“Coffee?” You ask, giving her a confused, lopsided smile before it almost shifts to a straight line. “I thought you said you were passing on coffee this morning because it made you feel all weird after lunch.”

Your tone was accusive, just curious, it sounded a little raw.

“Well, I guess I lied to myself,” Cairo tried to joke, she had 12 minutes. She really needed to get into that room.

Before you could say more, your friends waved you over, calling your name. 

“I should go,” you say instead, eyes flickering back to her. You sighed, realizing that she had already fled into the building, the jingling slowly fading away.

Cairo rushed through the empty hallways, the sound of her footsteps following after her as the keys clinked together when she inserted it in through the keyhole and turned it.

The silent click of the light switch was all the noise Cairo had made–beside her breathing that shouldn’t be this ragged.

Her eyes scanned the desks, searching. She gripped onto the keys as she walks between the desks, feeling regret begin to pool in her stomach.

She had 6 minutes, it’ll only take 8 seconds. 

Her plan was stupid. She didn’t know why she was going to do it. Cairo slowly took your robot lying so perfectly, untouched, and perfectly program on your desk, into her palms. She just had to snap it so it would be enough to snap wires, enough for you to be pulled back from her invisible string and cry while she comforted you.

Comforted you for her own wrong doing.

8 seconds, 4 minutes and thirty seconds.

Cairo felt the eyelashes caress her cheeks as she closed them, gripping onto your months of work. She breathed deeply, placing her hands on opposite sides.

She could just put it back.

Cairo began to bend, until she could hear the struggle of wires, the small chip of plastic, the door opening-

“Cairo?” 

Your voice was soft, unsure, your hand trembling on the doorknob as you watched the fallen angel holding thousands of hours of work in her hands turn around slowly. Her doe eyes were like the one’s of a deer in headlights. 

The room was quiet, the only noise was a buzzing sound signaling the failure of the robot in Cairo’s hand. And if you counted it, the loud, guilty beating of her lying heart.

She wanted to explain, tell her that her lies caught her in every reckless and stupid action she had done. Yet, the vocal chords of her words died in her throat.

Cairo Sweet was a manipulator of many things. Feelings, people, the truth. But, the only thing that she never wanted to manipulate was you. Yet, she had manipulated every part of you. 

To have you catch her, even when she wouldn’t even fall.

The look in your eyes made her feel like she shoved a dagger through your heart. Yet, your voice was soft enough to make her feel like you'd still be the one to say sorry even if you were the one bleeding out.

“Y/N.” She paused, “How did you- I didn’t-”

You pull out a keychain, jingling it. “I heard,” you mumbled, voice much different than it was 5 minutes ago.

It was only 8 seconds.

You looked at her, trying to understand. And even though you never did, you still raised your hand up slightly to interrupt. “It’s okay, Cairo.” You murmur, she could hear the way a sense of hurt laid beneath, “Really. I wish you could’ve just told me you were here.”

You walked towards her, but you weren’t looking at her, you focused on your broken robot. The room was quiet as you slowly kneeled down, shattered pieces of plastic and glass on your hands. The ripped wiring was making a buzzing sound, and you felt your heart grow heavy. You were supposed to turn it in a week by now. The damage was too much to fix in that amount of time.

It was meant to get you a scholarship.

The way you stood silently somehow made her feel worse than if you were to yell at her. Your face was unreadable as you slowly began to get up.

You couldn’t see Cairo’s expression, but her eyes moved upwards when your voice came, quiet. “You didn’t have to do that.” You murmur, voice emotionless, yet, it sounded so bitter, so unknown. After all, you had never been like this with Cairo. 

But you force to look at her, tilting your chin up. She could feel the string between you two unraveling.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

You were already biting holes on the inside of your cheek, “You didn’t mean to break my robot?” The tone in your voice was almost sarcastic.

“It’s just that you didn’t have time anymore and I just wanted things to go back to the way they were. You and me.”

“And you decided to break my fucking robot that I’ve spent months working on instead of just telling me?” 

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry.”

You close your eyes, try to steady your breathing, your voice softening. “You could’ve just told me. I would’ve came.”

Cairo saw the way you were spiraling, your body trembling from how overwhelmed you were. She stepped closer, yet you stepped away. “I can’t even look at you right now,” you sniffed, turning away from her. It was only then that she realized that you sounded like you were about to cry.

You head towards the door, opening it. “I should go. Don’t bother coming after me, okay? I.. I need some time to think.”

Cairo stood in the empty classroom as the closing of the door had echoed through her surroundings. She could’ve stopped, yet her lies would always bite back.

The next few days, the brunette hadn’t heard anything from you; no more silly photos of you, sleepy voice messages, stupid memes.

cairo 1:24PM: can we talk, pls?

cairo 1:24PM: i just want to talk and explain about what happened

cairo 2:13PM: y/n 

Please don’t do this to me.

Cairo Sweet had always been reckless. She would’ve been the one to flee, to leave. Yet, you never know how much someone really matters till they walk away–and only then did Cairo realize that for the first time, she wasn’t the one leaving. You were.

You would’ve always came back, but Cairo took advantage of it. Pried on it. Took too many risks that the truth had came back.

Now, her kitchen was quiet, lacking the sound of laughter. Passing periods were boring, peeking the corner where your locker was to find that you’ve completely relocated where you walked.

She thought she could bring you back to her, doing this. But she had never felt farther. She was so close. But you caught her.

And Cairo would have to live with knowing that she had broken the one thing she had wanted most.

-

[munsonsmixtapes]

Can y’all please send me some rockstar!Eddie requests??

Rock star eddie, you're his drummer. One of his songs requires moans in the background. He wants it live. Wear special panties during show, boom live moans or if that's too much maybe just has you in the sound booth since he doesn't want some random chick's moans

ugh I love this idea

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) masturbation anal, slight degradation, use of the word whore

The recording booth is getting warm as you finish up your contribution to the new single. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever done before and Eddie is producing the entire thing, telling you exactly what he wants you to do and you hate that you’re finding it so hot. 

He’s your bandmate and looking back, bandmates dating each other rarely ever works out. So you’ve been keeping your attraction to yourself even though everyone but Eddie knows exactly how you feel. And you don’t think he’s ignoring you but more that he’s oblivious, not seeing what’s right in front of him. 

And it apparently goes both ways since you have no idea that he’s been crushing on you since you joined the band, temporarily filling in for Gareth while his broken arm heals. He’d never tell anyone this, but for very selfish reasons, he doesn’t want Gareth to get better. He wants you to stay in the band forever so he can’t get closer to you. 

He wants to be able to get a glimpse of your short shorts and skirts when you sit on the stool in front of the drum kit. He wonders how you would feel if he let his hand slide up your thigh, dipping into the waistband of you panties to feel your sopping wet- 

“That was really good,” Eddie tells you through the speaker with a wide smile. 

“Great,” you smile back. “Am I good to go?” You jerk your thumb towards the door and Eddie shakes his head. He kind of feels like a perv for what he’s about to ask, but he doesn’t exactly want to ask this of a stranger. 

“Actually,” he starts. “I have something else I want you to record if you’re up for it.” 

You don’t understand what could possibly be left. You already did your vocals and the drum beats he wanted. What else could Eddie be asking for? And why is he asking it from you? 

“I was wondering…” he pauses for a beat then waits for Jack, the producer who was helping him out with everything, to leave. And once he does, Eddie leans in close and it feels so intimate, like he’s right there, just inches away from you. “Since this song is supposed to be sexy, I was wondering if you’d like to record some moans for me so I can put them in the background of the track.” 

Your face is now on fire. You don’t know what you thought he was going to ask you to do, but it definitely wasn’t that. You should feel disgusted but for whatever reason, you actually feel honored. You’re the one he wants to do this, no one else. And it makes you feel even more attracted to him then you already are. 

“Okay,” you nod, letting what you’re about to agree to actually sink in before you say the words. “Sounds fun, I’m in.” 

Eddie’s honestly shocked that you’re into it, that you’re so eager to do this for him. He really thought it was a big ask but you agreed so quickly, almost as if he asked you to buy him a coffee. (and he never even has to ask for that, you’ll just show up with his usual order with that pretty smile on your face) God, he’s getting hard just thinking about what you’re going to do and wishes that he could be the one to make you make those surely delicious sounds, but he’s going to keep his distance. 

You move around the drums and stand in front of the main mic, putting your headphones back on, wondering what it’s going to sound like on the track. Eddie has always had a good ear so you’re sure that whatever he’s going to come up with will sound great. 

“So how do you want this? Do want something loud or breathy or-“ 

“Breathy,” he replies, cutting you off. “Needy, desperate.”

“Do you mind if I-” you cut yourself off, referring to your pants. Eddie’s eyes widen at what you’re insinuating, but he’s not going to say no. He knows that it’s hard for some people to do that kind of thing on demand and he also kinda wants to see you get yourself off. 

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “Go ahead. We’re recording.” 

“Okay,” you nod as you pull your shorts down just a bit before sticking your hand down your panties, on the hunt for your pussy. Your fingers get inside you pretty easily and you begin to pump, slowly at first and Eddie’s watching every move, eating up the way you throw your head back in pleasure. It’s almost like you’re putting on a show for him and he’s eating up every second. 

When you let out your first moan, Eddie’s cock twitches at the pretty sound and gets progressively harder the more you moan, deciding that it’s even better than he imagined it would be. This is going to sound so hot on the record and he’s nodding to himself at how good of a decision it was to have you be the one to do it. 

“Fuck,” you whine and he’s bricked up now, wondering if it would be weird if he jacked off to you masturbating. He supposed it doesn’t matter because he’s already pulling down his sweatpants before spitting into his hands and giving it a jerk. 

“Just like that,” he encourages into the speaker. “Maybe a little more whiny.” 

Your hand is moving faster now, his name falling from your lips in a breathy whine and he’s so close to coming right there. In a flash, he’s on his feet, pulling his pants up as he stops the recording, making a beeline for the booth. He’s gotta join in now that he’s heard your moan his name, wanting you to moan it because of how he’s touching you. 

Your eyes open when the door to the booth shuts and he charges towards you. You slowly pull your hand from your shorts then grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, motioning for him to open his mouth. He does so and your fingers slide into his mouth as his tongue swirls around it, sucking your slick from it, savoring the taste even as you pull them from his mouth with a loud pop. 

“How’s it taste?” You ask and he puts on a devilish smirk, grabbing hold of your waist, your body now flush to his. 

“You tell me,” he whispers as his lips find yours, his tongue licking into your mouth, letting it meet yours so you can decide for yourself. “Good?” He asks when you don’t answer, but how can you when the whole thing makes you dizzy, unable to string together a proper sentence. 

“Mmm,” you moan against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck as his hands slide into your back pocket. He’s kissing you like this is something he’s been waiting for forever and he has dreamt about something like this happening but he was convinced that it was only going to end up being just a dream. 

He gives your ass a squeeze before hurrying to unbutton your shorts, pulling them down just a bit so he can get his hand down in there, his fingers finding your cunt pretty easily. His eyes darken as he pumps his fingers in and out, not even trying to warm you up, shoving his entire fingers in there. He puts on a devilish smile as he watches you come undone underneath his touch. He knows exactly what he’s doing and you know it’s from years of playing guitar that he can move his fingers in such ways. 

You hold onto him as best you can but you feel your knees buckle, having a hard time staying on your feet. Eddie’s quick to pull your back to his chest , his fingers somehow sinking deeper and you’re now putty in his hands as you reach your orgasm, his name falling from your lips once again and he’s got on a cocky smirk as he helps you sink to the floor. 

“All fours,” he commands and you’re quick to listen, letting him pull your shorts and panties down. He stares down at your bare ass, nodding to himself because he just knew that you had a good one with the tight shorts you always wear when performing. It was torture not being able to touch you but now that he’s here, he’s going to do so much, everything he’s ways wanted to as long as you’re okay with it.

Eddie removes his jeans and boxers and discards them into the pile of your clothing before getting down on his knees. This might be the hottest he’s ever seen you, hearing you beg for him, fuck, he thinks he’s going to come.

His shirt is off in a flash and you turn around to get a glimpse of the size of him but he quickly grabs onto your cheeks and forces you to turn back and face forward. You do as he says and stay there as you feel his presence behind you. He’s lathering something onto his cock, you can hear the noises and before you can ask as him what’s going on, he’s pounding into you as his hands rest on your waist, his fingers digging into your hips as he goes to town. You’re moaning so loud and he almost wishes that he was still recording as perverted as that sounds. 

“Look at you, taking me so well,” he says as he somehow goes even harder, wishing he had a mirror so that he could see just how hot you look from the front. “I think you deserve a treat for that. That is, if you can be a good girl.”

“I-I can be,” you reply through heavy breaths. You just knew that Eddie liked it rough, but not this rough. But you’re enjoying yourself, deciding that you can do this for hours. Your arms are getting a little tired but it’s worth it to be receiving something this good. 

“I bet you’re a whore too, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He’s right, you are, and you’re wondering how he’s able to read you like a book in this way. He’s making you wet beyond belief and you didn’t realize that you liked being spoken to like this until this very moment. 

“Mmm,” you reply, your brain going fuzzy as you feel another orgasm approaching, your arms threatening to give out on you. Just you hit your peak, Eddie pulls out and pushes you onto your back, not even giving you a second before he’s pounding into your sopping wet cunt, no sounds being heard except the squelching and slapping as he moves quickly. 

He wants to see you now, thinking that you’ve more than earned your treat because of how well you responded to him. You’re so pretty like this, submitting to him, letting him do whatever he wants to you. You’ve always been sweet and quiet, he never knew you had this side to you. 

“So pretty,” he whispers as he leans down for a kiss, this one soft, completely juxtaposing the way he’s fucking you. He then pulls your hoodie off to reveal your bare tits. You weren’t even wearing a bra? Fuck, he acutally might cum this time. 

And he’s feeling close this time, his vision getting hazy as he continues to pound into you. And it gets more intense as he thinks about the fact that you could potentially get caught and now he’s hurrying to finish to make sure that doesn’t, coming pretty much right after you as you’re bucking your hips against his to try your best to finish him off. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whines as he finally gets there, the two of you staying like that until you both come down. You’re already missing the feeling of him inside you as he attempts to clean the two of you up, helping you get dress afterwards before your legs still feel like jelly. 

He then helps you to your feet with a promise that he’ll make you feel even better in his apartment later. He then lets you sit in his lap as he finishes editing the song, still somehow able to get the job done even when you’re kissing his neck, grinding your ass against his cock. Yeah, he’s definitely teaching you a lesson later.

[withlovemark]

“...is that my hoodie?”

synopsis -> “the reader and mark are roommates and mark finds the reader masturbating in his room while wearing one of his hoodies then fucks her” [requested]

an: this ended up longer than i intended so im posting it separately

warnings: smut! mutual masturbation (both male and female), rough sex

-

your roommate mark! has just left for the weekend, excited to finally go on a trip with his group of friends which meant you had the whole apartment to yourself — which also meant, you could masturbate in peace and be as loud as you needed, not having to bite down on your pillows, hiding under the covers as you fingered yourself to oblivion.

so when mark walked back into the apartment, the sound of spongebob playing on the tv hitting his ears, nothing out of the ordinary, he never expected to burst into your room and see you seated perfectly in the middle of your bedsheets, legs wide open, a perfect view of your fingers going in and out of your pussy. 

“hey dude, have you seen my hood-”

“oh my god!,” you yell crossing your legs together and grabbing the nearest pillow in an attempt to cover yourself up as mark turned into a mumbling mess, frozen in place, staring at you  with wide eyes “i uhm -i -uhh s-sorry i didn’t know i-,”

“mark!,” you snap him out of his daze, cheeks bright pink as you assess what just happened, “can you please leave?,” you ask, the embarrassment eating you up alive. you were so lost in trying to chase your own high that you didn’t even hear him enter your shared apartment. maybe you shouldn’t have blasted spongebob on max volume.

“i-uh yeah, sorry,” he smiles sheepishly getting ready to turn around and leave when he remembered why he was even in here in the first place, “wait...is that my hoodie?”

still clutching the pillow between your legs, you were now very aware of the hoodie that clung way too big on your body, “i-uhm yeah, must’ve gotten mixed in the laundry,” you wince, the awkwardness taking over you as you refused to meet his eyes, looking everywhere but him. 

mark’s eyes narrow, his pupils darkening at the thought of you touching yourself in nothing but his hoodie, all his blood rushing to his cock. he takes a step towards you, catching your attention, “what are you doing?,” but the words seem to catch in your throat, leaving you unable to speak.

“i came back here for my hoodie,” his voice an octave deeper than you’re used to. 

“oh i-um, can you wait outside? i’ll change real quick,” you mumble, but instead of stepping away, mark takes another step closer.

“no its okay, you can keep it…if you let me watch,” he smirks, casually heading toward the chair across from your bed. it almost feels like you’ve set the stage for an audience – for him. 

“what?,” you ask, eyes wide, not sure if you heard him properly. 

“-or would you like it better if i finished what you started,” he teases, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips. 

"i-mark, what? we don’t have to do anything just give me a sec-,”

he lets out a low, dark chuckle, cutting you off mid-sentence, “touching yourself in my hoodie and you don’t expect me to care?”

"you’re gonna be late for your trip,” you say, words lacking conviction. 

"fuck that, they can wait…c’mon pretty girl, show me what you were doing,” he taunts and you can feel your arousal leaking onto your pillow. you have never seen this side of mark before and it’s turning you on more than you would like to admit. you had no control when your fingers slipped back down to your core finally giving in to his request, body hitting the headboard behind you, pillow being tossed to the side like you were in some sort of trance. 

“just like that baby, you’re so sexy,” mark hisses, settling into the chair, making himself comfortable. the pet name makes your pussy twitch as you stare right into his eyes, lust completely taking over, "say my name," he orders.

“mark-,” his jeans feeling more and more restricting as your moans hit his ears.

“that’s right baby, you can be as loud as you want,” he orders, reveling in your moans, “you don’t think i hear you at night, muffling your moans against your pillow?,” he continues earning another moan of his name from you, lips falling in an exasperated sigh. 

“you don’t think i don’t touch myself to the sounds you make?,” he groans, the sound of his zipper echoing throughout your room, cool air hitting mark’s hard cock,  “we have thin walls, y/n, i hear every whimper...every sigh,” he grunts, pumping his member as he watches you fuck yourself, fingers slipping in and out of your hole, your juices glistening under the lights, inviting him, “you don't think i hear you moan my name?,” he growled, grip on his member tightening, "always pictured how you'd look like pretty girl, but it really doesn't beat the real thing," he compliments, eyes gazing all over your figure, drinking you in.

mark’s pretty pink cock makes you salivate, frustrated whines slipping from your lips, fingers not reaching where you want it to, “fucking yourself on vibrators and dildos when you could’ve just knocked,” he chuckles, teasing you, “i could’ve helped you any time you wanted, pretty girl,” he continues and you’re not entirely sure what possessed your roommate to act like this but you needed to feel him. 

“mark, please come here,” you beg, “please help me now,” you whine, his cock twitching in his hold.

mark wastes no time, immediately making his way over to you, hands wrapping around your thighs as he pulled you to the edge of the bed, making you yelp at his dominant behavior. he takes hold of your chin, tilting your face up to make you meet his gaze, “im gonna fuck the shit out of you, baby,” a devilish grin on his lips, “gonna make sure i make you moan myself,” he grunts by your ear before sucking on your neck, wet and red, tongue marking you.

the vulgarity in his words and actions makes your stomach jump as you grab his shirt, pulling it over his head before pulling him down for a messy kiss, mark quick to respond, teeth clashing as his hip grinds into you, cock swiping at your wet folds, collecting your juices, moans spilling into the kiss. 

your hands find its way to the bottom of mark’s hoodie, ready to remove it off of your body when his large hands stopped you, “keep it on,” he grunts against your lips as he aligned himself within your core, entering you with no warning, “—fuck!,” you cry out at the stretch, back arching. mark doesn’t give you any time to adjust as he starts pounding into you. 

“god, you’re so fucking tight,” he says, clutching your hips so tightly you were sure it’s going to leave bruises, “so fucking warm,” your moans fueling him to go faster as your hips started rutting against his, matching his tempo. 

“you look so fucking sexy in my hoodie,” he grunts, one of his hands making it’s way to your stomach, making sure the hoodie doesn’t ride up as he pushed down on the fabric, cock hitting you deeper making you cry out in pleasure, the bed frantically squeaking below you, hands gripping your bedsheets trying to hold on to something. 

“d-dont stop mark, fuck, f-feels so good,” your praises go straight to his head as he lifts one of your legs up to his shoulders and you swore you could feel him in your guts, the tension in your stomach feeling intense, "holy fuck, mark!,” you cry out, every thrust hitting you exactly where your fingers couldn't. 

"yeah baby, scream my name,” his name the only thing you can mutter out, feeling your orgasm coming to a close. 

“only i can make you feel this good, huh baby,” the sound of skin slapping against each other bounces off the walls, your eyes rolling back, back arching, hands finding their way to his shoulders, nails coming in contact with his skin as you tried to last.

mark kisses you again, hiding his hisses in your moans as your pussy tightened around his cock, the tension in your stomach breaking, heavy breaths slipping past your lips as your orgasm completely washed over you, “yeah that’s it baby, so good for me,” he coaxes you through it, continuing his brutal pace, desperate to reach his own high.

pleasure quickly turning into pain as he continued chasing his own orgasm, “h-hurts mark,” you whine under him, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes, hands gripping his bicep.

“you can take it baby, i know you can,” he charges, hands grabbing your ass as he brought you further into your bed, raising both of your legs above his shoulders, cock jamming right into your cervix, muffled, unintelligible sounds escape your lips, tears falling down your cheeks but you don’t stop him, falling in love with the pain, your stomach coiling once again, heat traveling throughout your entire body down to your toes.

“mm-gonna come,” mark groans above you, cock twitching inside you, as his fingers squeezed your clit immediately sending you over the edge, making you see stars, toes curling, pussy sucking in his cock so tight. mark struggles to not come right inside you. he quickly pulls out before finally reaching his own high, body landing on top of yours, cum messily landing all over his hoodie, down to your sheets. guess he can't use that hoodie now.

it takes him a while to catch his breath, looking at your fucked out state under him, hoodie still hugging your body, tear-stained cheeks, lips flushed, juices leaking out of your cunt and he can’t help but land another tongue filled kiss on your lips, bringing you back to reality.

“god, we should’ve done that a long time ago,” he says, breaking the kiss, making you giggle.

"yeah, we really should’ve,” you sigh happily, fingers tracing the outlines of his cheekbones. 

he smiles at you sweetly, your own features mirroring his, “you okay pretty girl, it wasn’t too much?,” his voice much gentler from his previous actions as he softly wiped away your tear stains.

“i'm okay, mark, that was perfect,” you nod quickly, kissing him again, feeling him smile through the kiss. before it could go any further, his phone rings from his jeans on the floor, making the two of you jump.

he picks it up, flashing you a sheepish grin before answering, putting it on speaker, “bro, where the fuck are you? we’ve been waiting for 30 minutes now, if you’re not here in 15 we’re leaving without you!,” chenle yells through the phone, hanging up right away.

“chenle’s kind of scary,” you laugh, making him smile.

“yeah, he really is,” he responds, chuckling.

“go,” you say with a grin, your eyes flicking to the door. 

“do i have to?,” he pouts, making his way back to you, head settling on your stomach, arms wrapping around your waist, making you giggle. 

"mark, you’ve been planning this trip for a month…just go,” you say sternly, fingers running through his hair, attempting to make him look presentable. 

he sighs before leaning up, chasing your lips and kissing you deeply, "we’ll talk about this when i get home." 

"ill be here…watching spongebob," you giggle, pointing to the t.v. that was still playing.

he rolls his eyes, a small grin on his lips, “no playing with yourself until i get back,” he whispers, earning a playful slap on the chest from you. 

once he finished getting dressed and you slipped on your shorts, you walked him to the door, hands lingering around the other, the sweetness of the moment hanging in the air, completely opposite from the crude behavior that was happening in your bedroom, until his fingers pinch the cheeks of your ass making you yelp in surprise. 

“hey!,”

"what? i don’t think you realize how insane it drives me every time you walk around in this tiny thing," he groans cheekily, pulling you against him, his head resting in the space between your neck, laugh vibrating through his chest, making you squirm in his embrace, a smile tugging at your lips.

it takes all of mark’s willpower to pull away from you, you practically had to push him out the door. 

“oh and feel free to wear all of my hoodies from now on, roomie,” he says before kissing you goodbye and leaving the apartment, your giggles ringing in his ear. 

[whizzing-fizzbee]

Ok so shy reader and confident Sebastian, touching MC in class under the table , standing behind her and pushing/grinding on her, whispering in her ear, all in public- and reader getting fed up and pulling him into like a bathroom or a closet and absolutely RAILING him and he’s super surprised bc usually he’s the dom one but this time he ends up being the whiney mess who finishes several times before MC even does, and goes back to class shaking.

-3way anon

Oh hello, my fave 3way anon ❤️ Hope this is what you had in mind.

Unraveled

Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit / MDNI (smut, language); all characters 18+ Words: ~3,200 Tags: second person POV, reader insert, no y/n, smut, teasing, dom Seb turned into sub Seb, semi-public sex

Summary: You're typically the quiet, reserved type. You find public displays of affection unbecoming, though your boyfriend, Sebastian Sallow, can't help himself. So when he spends a morning teasing you until you're wound so tight you can't see straight, you show him how it feels to unravel. In other words: You and Sebastian get filthy in the Hogwarts Hieroglyphic Hall.

Read below the cut.

By your seventh year at Hogwarts, you knew Sebastian Sallow like the back of your hand. 

You knew what made him tick. You knew what kept him up at night. You knew he couldn’t sleep with less than two blankets. You knew how many pumpkin pasties he could eat before he began to whine that his stomach hurt. 

Sebastian Sallow no longer surprised you. You’d seen him at his best, worst and all stages between. That’s why you certainly weren’t surprised when his attention turned to you during the middle of History of Magic class one day. You could always tell when he was bored. He’d subconsciously roll his wand back and forth across the desktop, his lips forming a slight pout as he willed the time to pass. Once he got bored of that, his gaze shifted to you.

You quirked an eyebrow at him and he smirked as he casually stretched his legs out, extending them beneath the desktop while his hand grazed the side of your thigh. You pretended not to notice.

After nearly a year of calling Sebastian Sallow your boyfriend, you’d mastered the art of nonchalance. Because as much as you loved and adored him, you liked to challenge him.

Sebastian was far more extroverted and outspoken than you. He never shied away from much of anything, whether it be a friendly duel or asserting himself as your proud boyfriend. But you carried yourself with quiet confidence, choosing to let your history as the hero of Hogwarts speak for you. The two of you were the spitting image of opposites attract.

So when Sebastian smirked at you, his knee shifting closer to yours beneath the desk, you rolled your eyes. Lazy sunlight streamed through the windows, casting emphasis on the speckles of dust that hovered throughout the classroom. Their quiet presence contrasted the roar inside your head.

While you appeared just as calm, just as serene as that floating dust, a war was raging inside of you. It threatened to pry you apart until you were a desperate, dissolute mess of untamed desire. 

It was all Sebastian’s fault. He’d spent the entire morning riling you up. It was his own sick little serving of revenge after you’d denied his advances to study with Natsai Onai the previous night. You insisted you’d make it up to Sebastian, but he was far too cheeky to let you remain unscathed.

It started at breakfast that morning. Sebastian slid onto the bench next to you at the Slytherin table, his hand resting gently atop your knee. You didn’t notice as you tucked into your porridge – not until Sebastian’s hand snaked its way toward the top of your thigh. His thumb traced loose, lazy circles while he chatted with your housemates as if nothing was happening beneath their breakfast. He yapped about the past weekend’s quidditch scores while your fellow seventh-years were none the wiser to the way his fingers were forming unseen patterns across your thighs. They inched inward and inward until Sebastian could undoubtedly feel the heat radiating from your core.

“Pardon me, love,” he said as he reached across you for a pastry from the bread basket. As he did so, he leaned in close enough to graze the side of your neck with his warm breath. He flashed you an innocent smile. You averted your eyes in hopes you appeared unbothered.

But Sebastian was unrelenting, even in Herbology class. While Professor Garlick discussed the uses of puffapods, Sebastian stood far too close for your comfort. He shifted until he was practically sharing your repotting station, his fingers drumming quietly across the weathered wood tabletop. He hovered behind you, his eyes quietly scanning you with a silent craving while his breath tickled the nape of your neck. Your nipples hardened and your posture became painfully straight.

When it came time to replant your puffapod, his hand found the small of your back as he brushed past you, his hips grinding against your ass as he prattled on about needing a new trowel. 

You pretended that your stupid puffapod was the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen.

Then came your study break in the library. You were diligently leafing through your Potions notes to ensure you were prepared for your next brew. Poppy Sweeting sat across from you while Sebastian lounged in the seat beside you, sucking on a sugar quill. He’d lost focus a good half-hour ago, his eyes now clinging to you as you read. Per usual, you pretended not to notice.

But Sebastian shifted to lean forward in his seat, his long legs bent at the knees as he extended his half-eaten sugar quill toward you.

“Want a taste?” he murmured innocently, though his eyes were anything but. You blinked at him with a deadpan stare. He smirked. “C’mon,” he continued, holding the sugar quill near your lips. “The sugar rush will give you some energy to focus.”

You rolled your eyes but obliged, parting your lips to allow Sebastian to stick the sugar quill in your mouth. You savored the saccharine taste while Sebastian’s eyes locked on yours. He held your gaze as he slowly glided the melting sugar quill from your tongue.

“How does it taste?” he asked innocently.

“Like it’ll rot my teeth.”

Sebastian breathed a short, silly laugh and leaned in closer until his lips were a mere inch from your ear for only you to hear.

“I can think of something worth sucking on that won’t rot your teeth,” he murmured quietly. The skin on your forearms prickled with goosebumps. He popped the quill back into his own mouth, his eyes still sparkling with sportiveness. “If you ask me, you look more alert already.”

You glared daggers at him and returned to your notes. Nevermind the fact you ended up scribbling the same line four times in a row before you even noticed.

History of Magic class was the final straw. Sebastian had been intentionally edging you all morning with culpable calculation. You knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. And while you were fighting like hell to appear unbothered, you were actually on the verge of unraveling.

As Sebastian’s hand inched its way to the apex of your thighs, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. The heat between your thighs became a scalding ache that screamed for relief. His fingertips dragged discreet lines over the fabric of your skirt while you tried to swallow the whimper ascending in your throat. It threatened to expose your indecencies if you didn’t get out of that stifling classroom soon.

Your eyes shifted sideways until they caught Sebastian’s gaze. He offered you a smirk, to which you narrowed your eyes and pursed your lips. You stared hard into his pupils, praying he got the message.

Eyes now forward, you waited for Professor Binns to turn his back at the blackboard. When he did, his voice still droning on about Lachlan the Lanky, you rose quietly to your feet. Sebastian frowned as you slunk casually toward the back door of the classroom and silently slipped out.

You took a right and waited. About thirty seconds later, Sebastian emerged.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. You didn’t reply, but merely made another right, leading him through at the empty corridor until you were in the Hieroglyphic Hall outside Professor Binns’ office. A left past the sphinx statue and you finally came to a stop behind a column outside one of those Depulso puzzle rooms you’d discovered at random your fifth year.

“What are you do-” Sebastian repeated before you cut him off with a kiss. You threw yourself at him, crashing him backward against the column as he grabbed at your waist to steady you both.

You leaned, pressed fully against him with your hands splayed across his chest as you continued your assault on his lips. Finally, when you had to part for air, Sebastian gaped at you in awe.

“What’s gotten into you?” he teased. You glared at him.

“You know exactly what’s gotten into me,” you huffed. “You’ve been trying to provoke me all day.”

“Darling, whatever do you mean?” he asked cheekily. You fisted his tie in one hand and pulled. He snapped forward at the waist, his eyes widening at your aggression as he bent toward you. 

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” you hissed. You released his tie with a light shove and turned your attention to his belt buckle.

“Wh- what are you doing?” Sebastian stammered. “We can’t do this here!”

“Why not?” you retorted. “Binns is in class. No one else ever comes through this corridor. You’ve spent the entire day teasing me. Now you get what you wanted and suddenly it’s too much for you?”

Sebastian was a lot of things – an arrogant tease, a conniving pest and of course, a cheeky bastard – but he certainly was not one to shy away from a challenge. So instead of showing any more apprehension, he flashed his signature smirk and pulled you into a kiss.

As your tongue clashed with his, your hands fidgeted with his belt until you were shoving every piece of clothing in your way to the floor.

“Easy now,” Sebastian laughed at your haste. You sneered at him in annoyance as you unbuttoned your own blouse. Sweat was already causing it to stick to your skin, so you shed it to the floor, your bra following close behind, leaving you bare above the waist.

You were a caged tigress starved for sustenance. Sebastian had dangled himself as prey in front of you and you were merely staking your claim.

His erection bobbed in your hand and you grasped at it like it was a final lifeline for your salvation. Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath at your rough touch, but you ignored it. You pumped your hand, your curled palm dragging over his shaft, once, twice, again and again until Sebastian tilted his head backward against the column. You stared at his expression as his eyes fell shut and his chest puffed and caved with labored breaths.

You dropped to your knees and guided him into your mouth. His eyes shot open in surprise and you smirked upward at him, your eyes shining as your lips tightened around his cock.

“Merlin,” Sebastian muttered. His hands tangled in your hair as you worked, your hollowed cheeks pulled taut around his shaft. When his tip hit the back of your throat, you held it there, gurgling around him as he moaned. 

You loved it when he moaned. It was the telltale sign you had him wrapped around your finger, even if you were presently the one wrapped around him. 

Your head tilted backward, sending Sebastian’s cock popping from your mouth until you attacked it again, this time with your tongue. You flattened it against the bottom of his shaft and dragged it slowly toward the tip where you traced circles. The sounds of sucking echoed around you, wet and crude.

Meanwhile, your own wetness pooled between your legs. It was a culmination of a day’s worth of arousal that Sebastian started over breakfast. You reached beneath the hem of your skirt, your fingers edging into your panties as you hummed in relief at your own touch. The vibration from your lips made Sebastian’s breath hitch.

You dipped two fingers inside yourself, outraged by how wet you’d allowed yourself to become. It was unfair of Sebastian to do such a thing to you without any relief. 

Your panties snapped back into place when you removed your hand, using it to stroke Sebastian’s cock with your arousal. He hissed at the slick sensation until you replaced your hand with your mouth again. Your hands pressed into the backs of Sebastian's thighs as you sucked harder, your jaw aching as your head bobbed back and forth.

“Ease up,” Sebastian panted, one hand tugging gently at your hair. You ignored him again, hastening your mouth’s movements until you could hear Sebastian swear above you. You engulfed him with your throat until you could feel him fidgeting, his hands tightening in your hair as he started to unravel. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he whimpered. You wanted to time this right. And just as you felt him begin to twitch, you released him from your mouth. You pumped a hand around his wet shaft and he grunted, his release showering over your breasts. When it was over, Sebastian slumped against the column.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed, his eyes slowly cracking open to gaze at you in disbelief. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“Nothing,” you answered simply as you rose to your feet. “We’ll call it even once you make it up to me.”

Sebastian didn’t understand. He was clearly under the impression your impish acts were done for the day. So when you stepped backward several paces until you were leaning with your back against a column opposite of him, he blinked in confusion.

You closed your eyes and slowly dragged a hand from your neck over your chest, where Sebastian’s release was still dribbling over your breasts. Your hand snaked downward over your stomach until it disappeared beneath the hiked up hem of your skirt.

You let out a low moan as your hand made its way back to your soaked entrance. You dragged two fingers over your clit before you paused to slide your panties off. They fell to the floor, exposing just how wet you were.

Sebastian swallowed – not that you paid him any attention. Your fingers sank inside yourself as you bucked your hips forward, pushing the plush front wall of your cunt into your fingertips. You did this repeatedly until the sight of you fucking your own fingers made Sebastian’s cock stir again. 

“Want me to take care of you?” he asked huskily. You nodded silently, your eyes still squeezed shut as your fingers continued their work.

Sebastian moved toward you, his hands bunching your skirt higher around your waist so that he could see beneath it. He nudged your hand away and replaced it with his own, his fingers dragging over your drenched folds. He groaned as you coated his hand.

You spun to face the column, no words needed to indicate your intentions. You propped yourself against it with your hands, your legs parted slightly as you bent at the waist. Sebastian dragged the tip of his hard cock against your entrance and you moaned through your impatience until you felt him gliding against your walls.

“My god,” he breathed as he was fully sheathed. “I’ve never felt you so wet.” Though you weren’t facing him, you could feel him smirking behind you. “Guess I should rile you up more often.”

“Shut up,” you ordered, forcing your hips backward for emphasis. Sebastian obeyed, choosing to press an affectionate kiss to the back of your shoulder until he was rocking against you.

Hours’ worth of tension pleaded for release. You clenched your walls tight around his cock, the ache already threatening to erupt in erratic waves as he drove into you. The faster he slammed against you, the louder your moans chorused. 

“Harder.” It wasn’t a plea, but a command. Sebastian, aroused by your abnormal dominance, eagerly obliged. But it still wasn’t enough for you and soon, you were rocking your hips backward with such force, Sebastian’s grip on your hips began to slacken.

He was grunting through gritted teeth at your force, but you paid no mind as you clung to the column for dear life. Perhaps it was selfish, but so was Sebastian’s decision to tantalize you all day. The sound of slapping flesh filled the corridor until Sebastian’s panting became broken gasps.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m going to-”

He let out a choked moan, his hips pinning you forward against the stone until he spilled into you. He slumped against you, spent of all energy as he caught his breath. Your thighs were wet and your legs ached from supporting your sinful act for so long, but you still hadn’t had your fill.

Your cunt quivered for more. More friction, more pressure, more Sebastian. Assuming you still had another twenty minutes until class let out, you decided you might as well make the most of the time.

Sebastian reached down to gather his trousers when you knocked him backward. He grunted as he toppled against the wall, his legs giving out as he fell to the floor. He blinked up at you with puppy dog eyes, stunned by your behavior.

“Wh- what-” he started, but you lunged yourself on top of him, straddling his lap before he could question you. 

You kissed him hard, desperate to keep him excited. You grinded your drenched folds against his lap, moaning at the return of his flesh against yours. You needed that pressure inside your walls again.

“Your fingers,” you panted. “Use your fingers.”

“But… you… how are you still-”

“Just do it.”

If he hadn’t been so transfixed by your demanding demeanor, your face flushed and eyes dark with insatiable desire above him, he may have considered putting up more of a fight. Instead, he indulged you and slid a finger inside of you. By now, you were so sensitive, you gasped at the intrusion. 

“More,” you breathed. Sebastian added a second finger and you began rocking yourself around them. Your hips bucked in desperation, your softest spot dragging against his fingertips until you were moaning in his ear.

Soon, you could feel Sebastian’s hardening cock pressing against your thigh. You took it in your hand and stroked until he was fully erect again. You beamed at him in excitement. 

When he pulled his fingers from you, you sank downward, wriggling your hips until his cock filled your cunt completely. His hands gripped your waist and you lifted yourself upward, slamming down with impatience as you chased your release.

“Not so rough,” Sebastian whined with a clenched jaw. On any other day, you would have taken pity on him and obliged. Not today; not after what he’d done to you all morning.

“Just hold still,” you ordered. Your hands rested on top of his shoulders as you continued to bounce yourself up and down, your walls stretching around his cock. When his tip met the deepest part of your core, you whined in elation, certain you were about to earn your prize.

“I’m- I can’t-” Sebastian sniveled. His face was scrunched in sheer exhaustion. You rocked harder, your sensitive spot slamming greedily around his cock until you were on the cusp of your climax. 

“F-fuck,” you breathed as the spasms started. You tipped your head backward and unleashed a wild cry as your walls rippled around Sebastian, whose fingers pressed into the skin of your hips with bruising force. You stopped your frenetic motions to sit in his lap, the final lingering flutters of your orgasm causing you to flood around him.

Sebastian was too sluggish to vocalize his own ending. He slumped over, his forehead against your shoulder as he emptied inside of you for the final time. 

Finally, you were satisfied, though your head felt heavy and your frame may as well have disintegrated from your body. Meanwhile, Sebastian looked absolutely and utterly spent. His hair was a messy mop, sticking upward in all directions while sweat trickled from his forehead. His eyes were barely open as he fought to catch his breath.

When you finally crawled off of him to collect your clothes, Sebastian peered up at you in quiet befuddlement. You chose to act none the wiser.

You smiled at him as you finished buttoning your shirt, smoothing your skirt with a hand to ensure you appeared perfectly composed per usual.

“Ready to return to class?” you chirped innocently. Sebastian blinked at you in disbelief.

“You’re just going to act like none of that happened?” he asked. 

“Like what happened?”

When the two of you returned to class and slipped discreetly into your seats, you smirked quietly to yourself as the other students began to whisper about Sebastian’s shaky, disheveled appearance. 

[inseobts]

Beautiful Game

portgas d. ace x strawhat!reader

you meet ace in alabasta with the rest of the crew and start a game that, sadly, you will never finish.

a/n: omg thank you for having faith in me and voting this in the last poll, hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!

words count: 2.1k

tags: alabasta to marineford, secret romance, angst, tragedy, hidden love, secretly dating, d3ath

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

You first meet Portgas D. Ace in the middle of the desert, just like the rest of the crew.

Luffy tackles him, grinning ear to ear, while the rest of you stand back, slightly wary of the powerful stranger. But the moment Ace lifts his head, eyes flickering with amusement, something shifts.

His eyes meet yours for only a second, dark, warm, curious, but it’s enough. You don’t know it yet, but this is the start of something dangerous.

Later that night, as you all rest near the campfire, Ace finds you sitting a little away from the group, staring at the stars.

“You don’t talk much” he comments, sitting beside you. His presence is warm, even in the cool desert air.

You smirk “I let the idiots handle that part.”

Ace chuckles “Good strategy.”

There’s a brief silence before he tilts his head “What’s your dream?”

You blink at him, surprised.

“Everyone on Luffy’s crew has a goal,” he continues “What’s yours?”

You hesitate. It’s been a long time since someone asked you that so directly “Just to be free” you say at last “To see the world, live how I want. No chains, no limits.”

Ace’s gaze softens “That’s a good dream.”

You glance at him “What about you?”

His expression flickers, like he’s about to say something but stops himself. Instead, he just grins “to make the whole world know my name, and maybe Luffy's too”

You snort “Sounds like a lot of work.”

“It is,” Ace admits. Then, after a pause “But I don’t mind.”

It’s dangerous, the way your heart flutters. You tell yourself it’s just because he’s charming, nothing more.

But by the time he leaves, slipping you a small, barely noticeable wink before running off into the desert, you know you’re in deep trouble.

It starts as a game.

Ace sneaks into your life at random moments, meeting you in hidden ports, leaving you messages through Luffy (who will always be oblivious), brushing against your shoulder in crowded taverns.

It’s always brief. Always secret.

Neither of you say what it really is, but you both know.

“This is a bad idea” you whisper one night, his fingers tangled in your hair, lips brushing against yours.

Ace grins, his breath warm against your skin “The worst.”

“Then why are we doing this?”

“Because I can’t stay away.”

And you’re weak, so weak, because neither can you.

But you never speak of a future. Never dare to hope.

Because deep down, you both know this can’t, and won't, last.

You shouldn’t be here.

The desert air is warm, the stars scattered across the sky like broken pieces of a dream. The sounds of the celebration echo from the city below. Luffy and the others, drunk on victory and food, laughing without a care in the world.

But you?

You’re standing on a secluded balcony of an inn, pressed against Ace.

His lips are fire against yours, searing, desperate. His hands grip your waist, your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, needing him closer.

This isn’t supposed to happen.

But Ace tastes like heat, like danger, like something you’ve wanted far too long.

“Tell me to stop” he murmurs against your lips. His voice is rough, strained, “Tell me to walk away, and I will.”

You should.

You should shove him back, should say no, but his forehead rests against yours, his breath uneven, his hands trembling against your skin.

And suddenly, the thought of letting him go is unbearable.

So instead, you whisper, “Don’t you dare.”

Ace exhales a shaky laugh, his grip tightening before he kisses you again, deeper, slower, like he’s memorizing you.

Like he knows you don’t have forever.

That night, tangled in each other, nothing else matters.

After that night, you don’t talk about it.

But it doesn’t end.

Ace disappears with a grin, promising to meet Luffy again soon. But when he leaves, he presses something into your hand... a small, folded scrap of paper.

“Use it when you need me” he says quietly.

You open your palm. It’s a Vivre Card.

You meet his eyes, and something unspoken passes between you.

“I’ll see you again” Ace says, voice so sure.

And then he’s gone.

For months, you tell yourself it was just one night.

But Ace? He never really leaves you.

Messages come in strange ways.

A stranger passing you a note in a tavern: “Took down another Blackbeard scout today. Hope you’re safe.”

A bartender in an unfamiliar town handing you a drink: “From the freckled guy. Says he misses you.”

A merchant, laughing as they slip a shell into your hand: “Play this.”

And when you do?

Ace’s voice crackles through the Den Den Mushi.

“Oi. Still alive, I hope?”

And just like that, he’s with you again.

You talk for hours sometimes, whispering in the dead of night so the others don’t hear.

“You should’ve seen Sanji the other day...” you laugh “He got so flustered over a waitress, he walked into a wall.”

Ace chuckles “Sounds like an idiot.”

“He is” You pause, softer “But he’s family.”

Ace hums “Yeah. Should I get jealous?”

Sometimes, his messages are shorter. More serious.

“Things are getting bad. Whitebeard’s watching Teach closely now.”

“I don’t trust this. But I have to follow through.”

And the worst one:

“If anything happens… tell Luffy I love him.”

That’s when you know.

Something is coming.

And you’re terrified.

The world is burning.

Explosions, screams, the clash of steel. War rages around you, but none of it matters, because Ace is there, even if chained, bloody and exhausted.

And you are powerless.

“ACE!”

Your voice is drowned out by the chaos, but he hears it. His eyes snap to you, widening in shock.

“Y/N?!” His voice is raw, desperate “What are you doing here?!”

Even Luffy shocked to see you, especially after you got separated in Sabaody. Maybe you should’ve stayed away, but you couldn't.

You should’ve let Luffy and the Whitebeard Pirates handle it.

But the second you saw his face in that newspaper, you knew you couldn’t lose him.

And you’re not the only one surprised.

A deep, rumbling laugh cuts through the battlefield, even amidst the chaos. You barely have time to react before a massive figure looms over you. Whitebeard himself.

“So, this is the brat Ace never shut up about” he says, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.

The Whitebeard Pirates fight fiercely around him, but the way they look at you it’s recognition. Familiarity. And then, Marco steps closer, a smirk tugging at his lips despite the battle raging on.

“Took ya long enough to show up” he says, his tone casual, like you’ve always been one of them.

You blink in shock. Ace… talked about you? Told them about you? And not just that, he made you family, without you even knowing.

You feel something tighten in your chest. There’s no time to process it, no time to react, because the battle isn’t over. But for the first time since stepping into this war, you don’t feel alone.

The battle is a blur. You fight like hell, side by side with Luffy and the others, cutting down anyone who stands between you and Ace.

And then—

Freedom.

The chains shatter. Ace is free, fire roaring to life around him as he stands, fists clenched.

For a moment, just a moment, you think everything will be okay.

But then you see Admiral Akainu move.

And you know.

“ACE!” You lunge forward, but you’re too far.

The fist of magma pierces his chest.

The world stops.

You don’t remember running.

You don’t remember the way your legs give out as you fall beside him, hands pressing uselessly against the gaping wound in his chest, as if that could help him.

All you remember is his face.

The way he smiles, even now.

The way his fingers brush against your cheek, gentle despite everything.

“Sorry” he whispers.

Your breath catches “No... don’t you dare...”

Ace coughs, blood dripping from his lips. His other hand clutches Luffy’s shoulder, voice weak but so full of love.

“Thank you, Luffy.”

Luffy is breaking, sobbing so hard his whole body shakes.

Then Ace’s eyes flicker back to you, something soft and unspoken passing through them.

His thumb brushes against your lips, a silent apology. A silent goodbye.

“Guess… we won’t get to finish our little beautiful game" he murmurs “Sorry Luffy but I really like y/n”

Your vision blurs.

“Please” you whisper, voice shaking “Stay. Just a little longer... please”

But he just smiles.

And then—

The light leaves his eyes.

And your world shatters.

You don’t remember much after that.

Just fire. Screams. The unbearable weight of losing him.

But the rest of the world remembers.

The next time you’re fully aware, you’re somewhere far away—trapped in a place you never meant to be, just like the others. The crew is gone, scattered across the world, torn apart at Sabaody. And Luffy… Luffy had been alone.

You don’t know where they are. If they’re okay. If they know.

And then, one day, a newspaper arrives.

Your hands shake as you hold it, the ink smudging slightly under your fingers. Your face is on the front page.

Right next to Luffy. Right next to Ace. The world knows.

Thousands of miles away, the rest of the crew stares at the same paper, their hearts sinking.

On Weatheria, Nami’s breath catches as she clutches the newspaper, hands trembling. The old scientists around her murmur in confusion, but she doesn’t hear them, “Luffy… y/n what are you doing there…”

On Kamabakka, Sanji sits frozen, his usual flirtatious charm gone as he reads the headline. His cigarette burns between his fingers, now forgotten “what the hell…”

In the snowy mountains of Torino Kingdom, Chopper’s small paws shake as he grips the paper, his eyes brimming with tears.

On a distant island, Usopp bites his lip so hard it nearly bleeds. He grips the edges of the newspaper, his vision swimming. He was supposed to be stronger. Strong enough to stand beside you.

Even Franky, in his newly rebuilt body, goes quiet. Even Brook, usually one to make light of things, feels something break inside his ribcage. Zoro. Nico Robin. Everyone.

The article spares no details. Your presence at Marineford. The way you fought beside Luffy. The way you clung to Ace in his final moments, your hands stained with his blood.

And the way he had looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

They weren’t there to protect you. They weren’t there to fight with you.

And that truth burns.

When Luffy finally awakens, on Amazon Lily, after Law has done everything he could to keep him alive, the pain is still fresh.

You sit by his side, the weight of everything threatening to crush you both.

Luffy is the one to break the silence first.

“I’m going to train with Rayleigh,” he says, voice hoarse but filled with new resolve “For two years.”

You swallow hard. You knew this was coming.

You also knew you weren’t ready to be alone again.

Before you can respond, Luffy speaks again, his voice quieter now.

“Ace really loved you.”

Your breath catches.

You look at him in shock, but Luffy just stares ahead, eyes distant.

“He talked about you, y’know. When we met in Impel Down, he kept saying how mad you’d be if he got himself in trouble.” Luffy lets out a small, sad chuckle. “Guess he was right. I had no idea about the two of you but he told me everything…”

Your vision blurs.

Luffy turns his head toward you, his expression unreadable “You loved him too, huh?”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. There’s no point in hiding it anymore.

“Yeah,” your voice cracks “I did.”

Silence.

Then, slowly, Luffy reaches out and takes your hand in his, squeezing tight.

“You don’t have to be alone.”

And just like that, you both break.

Later, as Luffy announces his two-year training plan, you clench your fists, the storm of emotions clear in your eyes.

Law watches you carefully. He doesn’t say anything, he just waits.

“…I’m going to be okay” you finally say, lifting your gaze to meet Luffy’s “I’ll wait for you. But for now, Law offered me to stay with the Heart Pirates.”

Luffy doesn’t question it. He just nods, gripping your hand in his, squeezing tight.

“I’ll see you in two years.”

And before he leaves, he turns back to you one last time, his expression more serious than you’ve ever seen.

“Ace would’ve wanted you to be happy.”

And with that, he walks away.

Later, as Luffy disappears into the horizon with Rayleigh, you stand aboard the Polar Tang, watching until he’s gone.

You don’t know what the future holds.

But for now, you’ll keep moving forward. You're going to train with Law, with the Heart Pirates, and get stronger, until it’s time to reunite with your crew once more and get stronger.

[whos-the-seme]

Someone should honestly write a "4 Times That Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu Accidentally Acted Like Partners (and 1 Time They Finally Realized It)" thing. That would be so fun.

Here's some of what I got so far, though they're a tad incomplete. Feel free to add on!!!

Sharing a Bed

Shen Qingqiu stumbled into the peak lord meeting right before the starting time, eyes barely even open. He was impeccably dressed, as always, but the slight puffiness of his eyes and the way he was fighting back a yawn signaled to the fact that he might have rolled out of bed barely 5 minutes before.

He ignored the stares that he received as he made his way over and slid into the seat next to Shang Qinghua, groaning. Shang Qinghua raised his eyebrow at him, mildly amused. For once, he was the slightly well-rested one and his friend was the sleep-deprived mess. Despite this, he started pouring a cup of tea for the other.

"Shen-shixiong, did you even sleep properly? You were the one who told me to go home and get more sleep." He finished pouring the tea and passed the cup to his friend, before pouring himself a cup.

Shen Qingqiu groaned even louder at his words but accepted the cup. "I know, I know. I just couldn't get to sleep, though." He took a small sip and sighed in delight. "It's just that your bed is so much more comfortable than mine, so--"

Shang Qinghua, midway through drinking his tea, choked.

Silence.

Absolute silence. Mu Qingfang slowly put down his brush while Qi Qingqi's eyes darted between Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu, a smile spreading on her face.

Shen Qingqiu's slowly turning cog wheels finally realizes what he just said and the people he just said it in front of. Shang Qinghua made a slight wheezing sound.

Yue Qingyuan set down his own teacup, smiling pleasantly. "Shang-shidi's bed?"

"His guest bed!" Shen Qingqiu nearly yells. "I meant to say his guest bed, obviously that's where I sleep when I stay over, where else would I sleep, of course! I sleep in the bed that is not his!"

Shang Qinghua begins to nod his head frantically. "Yes, yes, he sleeps in my guest bed." Noticing the still dangerous glint in Yue Qingyuan's eyes, he begins to wave his hands around as if trying to stave off his impending doom. "N-not that Shen Qingqiu sleeps over often, or anything, ahahaha! It's just a spare bed that I happen to have--"

"I see," Yue Qingyuan interrupts, still smiling. Never before has Shang Qinghua feared for his life like this. He continues cheerfully, "Thank you for the clarification. Why don't we get this meeting started."

2. Robe Mix-Up

Shit! Shen Qingqiu had completely forgotten that he had to teach a morning class and was running late. He might have had too much fun last night reading trashy novels and bitching about them with Shang Qinghua, only to forget his responsibilities to his students. Upon waking and realizing the sun was already up, he nearly shoved Shang Qinghua off the bed trying to get up.

In his hurry to look presentable and still arrive on time, Shen Qingqiu grabbed the nearest outer robe that he could find and slipped it on, while simultaneously trying to fix his hair. Shang Qinghua, the traitor, simply rolled over and muttered something in his sleep, despite the chaos. He rolled his eyes at his best friend, despite the other not being awake to see it.

Finally ready, Shen Qingqiu rushes out of his bamboo house and starts to speed-walk, doing his best to still look majestic and peak lord-like, and not like he was running late to his own class. In his hurry, he doesn't notice the wide-eyed looks he was garnering from the older disciples he passed.

It was only when he steps into the classroom, and the previously hushed whispers and laughter of the teens fall dead silent, that he notices that something is wrong. They all stare at him.

"Good morning, everyone," Shen Qingqiu says pleasantly. No response. What, did he have something on his face or something?? He discreetly wiped at his cheeks, wondering what they were looking at. "Did something happen?"

"Shizun... isn't that...?" Ming Fan hesitantly spoke up, eyeing the blue robes that his teacher was wearing.

Shen Qingqiu followed his disciple's line of sight and looked down.

Ah. An Ding Peak Lord Blue. He must have accidentally grabbed Shang Qinghua's robes when getting dressed this morning.

Wait.

Fuck.

Shen Qingqiu can feel his face freeze.

Another brave disciple spoke up. "A-are those Shang-shishu's--"

"No," Shen Qingqiu says. His eye began to switch.

"But--"

"I said no."

Unfortunately for him, word spread fast, and by midday meal, there were people whispering about the fact that Shen Qingqiu had left his residence wearing Shang Qinghua's robes.

Shang Qinghua tsk'd at him from over the tea table they were taking their lunch at on An Ding Peak. "You just had to take my robe, huh? If you wanted to wear my clothes so bad, you could have just asked." An Ding disciples gawked at them on their way to do errands. One walked into a wooden post.

Shen Qingqiu glared at him, ears still burning red from embarrassment. "Shut up, Qinghua."