#i started writing a song for the first time ever. just to find out what its like.

[pepperonidk]

iii. tell me your favorite love song || to.you

↳ "i wanna sing it with you''

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoox gn!Reader Summary: Council meeting! It's time for you to reminisce on failed dates and first confessions with Seungkwan, Soonyoung, Hansol, and Chan! Warnings: cursing, jeonghan slander (i'm so sorry, it's for the plot) Songs Mentioned: completely - jaehyun

A/N:  This is a bit of a filler episode, sorry y'all. Hope everyone is enjoying their december! It's my favorite time of the year. The next two parts are pretty holiday vibe heavy.

let me know if you'd like to be tagged! comments and rb's are appreciated :)

⏮ previous track || back to playlist || next track ⏭ 

“Did you… Did you write that yourself?”

The last note from the piano seemed to echo through the room for a while before Wonwoo finally turned to look at you.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly. “Just finished it last night actually.” Wonwoo looked down at the piano keys as his fingers ghosted over them, touching them with enough pressure to push down but not make a sound. “What did you think of it?” he asked. He seemed more vulnerable than you had seen him before, like you were seeing him in a way he wasn’t even used to seeing himself.

“It’s really good,” you answered. You weren’t really sure what else to say. It was good, it felt personal, like something more than just a catchy song. He had used your words, that had to mean something, but you weren’t sure what. “Was that part about the coffee–”

“From you?” Wonwoo interrupted. Although he was looking away from you, you could see his ears turn pink. “Yeah, it was. I’m glad you noticed.”

You felt something flutter away at your chest. “I’m glad I could help you out,” you replied. If he wasn’t going to say anything more than that, then you would just take it for what it was. Wonwoo nodded but didn’t reply. “I’m really flattered that I got to hear it first.”

Wonwoo finally looked up at you. “Of course,” his head tilted. “Who else would I play it for?” As if it was the most obvious thing. 

You’re sure your eyes widened in surprise and your cheeks definitely went pink, because almost immediately, Wonwoo coughed and added, “You helped me write it so obviously you’d hear it first.” Right. That’s all. He was just offering something in return.

“Oh,” you began. Not sure if the sigh that escaped your lips was relief or disappointment. “Well if you ever need to write another song, you know where to find me. Though maybe I should start charging.” You hoped your tone was as light and playful as you intended it to be.

Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle as he shook his head. Good. “Name your price.” 

Before you could add on, his phone buzzed against the wood of the piano and he reached out to check it. His fingertips flexed as they wrapped around it.

“It’s Mingyu,” he explained. “We have band practice in 20...” He pocketed his phone before turning back to you with an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you around?”

His eyes seemed to twinkle under the fluorescents of the practice room and you felt your heart thud against your chest. He smiled. “See you around.”

Wonwoo left right after that, and you found yourself stuck in the room thinking about his song. Your fingers pressed against some of the keys that you remember him playing, as if looking for a code to see what he was thinking. It felt… electric, to have something, not quite a secret, between the two of you. You couldn’t help but imagine him singing it on stage, no one else knowing that you had wormed your way into the lyrics of his song. 

You found yourself wishing that you could hear him sing your song — the song about yo– the song he wrote that just so happened to include your words and seemed to describe exactly how you were feeling about him – again. Maybe he’d say it was for you.

Maybe he’d say it was how he felt about you too.

Later that night, you found yourself at Seungkwan, Chan, and Hansol’s place, laying on their sofa. You had sent out a text to your group chat, in desperate need of more minds on the case. Seungkwan went out to pick up a pizza and Chan and Hansol stayed behind with you. A knock sounded on the door and Chan stood up to answer the door. You heard him groan immediately as it swung open.

“Why the hell are you here?” Chan spoke. It was immediately obvious from his lack of enthusiasm that he was not speaking to Seungkwan.

You heard Seungkwan’s voice reply easily. “Relax, Chan.” He sighed. “I heard this was a council meeting,” he explained nonchalantly as he walked in with two boxes of pizza and a smug looking Soonyoung behind him. “I saw Soonyoung on my way here and figured he could be helpful.” The two of them smiled and waved as they walked into the living room and set the pizzas down on the coffee table.

“I don’t let strays into my place, Seungkwan,” Chan huffed as he shut the door behind him, letting Soonyoung into his place anyway.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes and you chuckled as he chastised Chan. “Our place,” he corrected. 

“And besides,” Hansol chimed in. “Just last week you pulled over in the parking garage and caused a 15 minute traffic jam because you stopped to pick up a lost cat.”

Chan’s cheeks reddened as he relented. Pouty as he was, he couldn’t really argue with his roommates. Walking over, he lifted your legs as he sat down next to her before letting you rest them in his lap. “You didn’t need to announce it,” he whined as Hansol offered him a slice of pizza.

“Anyway,” Seungkwan chuckled, moving to sit beside Soonyoung against the coffee table and facing the three of you. “We haven’t called a council meeting like this since Chan went through his emo phase.” Seungkwan looked over at Chan as he explained.

“You would have an emo phase,” Soonyoung sneered at Chan.

“You probably had one too, dickhead.” Chan countered.

“Yeah, if you count Justin Bieber as emo,” Soonyoung rolled his eyes.

“Soonyoung…” Seungkwan began softly. “That’s… that’s not any better.” Hansol reached over and patted his shoulder as Soonyoung looked away in embarrassment. Everyone laughed lightheartedly at that, even Soonyoung… eventually.

“Okay,” you began, drawing out the last syllable. “Now that we’ve determined that Chan and Soonyoung are both dorks, we can get to the problem at hand.”

“Hey!” Chan and Soonyoung both shouted in offense. 

You sat up and reached for a slice of pizza before you continued. You weren’t particularly sure of how to approach the subject, but you also knew that after five seconds of silence, Seungkwan would begin prodding at you. Maybe it was like ripping off a bandaid?

“I think Wonwoo likes me.”

The silence was deafening. You weren’t really sure what to expect, but silence from everyone, especially Seungkwan, was not it. Hansol, definitely. Chan, maybe, he sometimes liked to think before he responded. Soonyoung, from what you’d come to know, tended to hold off on offering advice until he heard others’ perspectives. Seungkwan, however, was always one to speak whatever was in his mind, to refine his thoughts aloud.

“Did you all hear me? I said–”

“No, we heard you the first time,” Chan said, still staring at you with wide eyes. “Wonwoo? Like 6’0” lead singer of No Name that looks like he wants to beat my ass every 10 minutes, Wonwoo?”

You nodded back. Looking around the room, everyone seemed to be in a similar state of shock. Hansol was resting his chin on a closed fist and his eyes were full of intrigue. Seungkwan had a brow raised quizzingly, and Soonyoung’s mouth was wide open until something settled in his brain and his lips pressed together in a smirk.

“I totally called it,” Soonyoung beamed. “Didn’t I tell you he was singing right at you that one night?” 

You recalled Soonyoung’s words from the first Halloween party you saw Wonwoo at and you nodded. Wonwoo did seem to have his eye on you that time.

“Nope, no, no,” Chan stood up. Here he goes, you thought to yourself. You sat up as well.“Wonwoo doesn’t sing to people, he just sings and then glares from the stage. He glares at everyone.”

Chan also had a point. You’d known Wonwoo to be exceptionally grouchy, and to make no exceptions for who he glares at. Maybe he was glaring at you for dancing with Soonyoung, who he didn’t seem too fond of.

“What makes you think he likes you?” Seungkwan asked curiously.

“I… He wrote a song about me?” you offered sheepishly as Chan’s eyes somehow got wider.

“He what?” Everyone asked in unison.

“I–” you stammered. “Well he never said it was about me, but he did use my line.”

Chan was pacing around the room now. “What was the line he used?”

“Something about the first coffee shop run in autumn.”

Recognition lit up in his eyes as you mentioned the lyric and he paused his movements. “He also used a line from Joshua in that song,” Chan thought aloud. “And I think he had a line about the drums that Mingyu had said about Seungcheol.”

Oh, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t help but feel… disappointed. Chan’s words were sobering, and you felt yourself shrink. It was true, you had only met him a handful of times. Why would he write about you? Hansol seemed to sense your deflating mood because he leaned over to wrap an arm around you. You smiled at him in return. 

Upon noticing your mood, Chan let out a sigh. He sat back down beside you and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want him to like you,” he began. “It’s just that… well, Wonwoo’s the most emotionally unavailable guy I know. I’ve never so much as heard him say the word ‘happy’ outside of a song. I just don’t want you to build him up in your head just to get hurt by reality.” He looked at you knowingly.

Seungkwan nodded along. “Chan’s right,” he agreed. “Being in love with the idea of someone is as good as handing your heart over to be broken. You shouldn’t have to put yourself through that again.” 

Again.

You remember that night freshman year that you were supposed to go on a date with a guy named Jeonghan.

Jeonghan had come up to where you and Chan were sitting and having lunch out on the quad. It was a breezy spring morning and you recall the way Jeonghan’s hair blew across his face as he approached the two of you with an easy smile. You gave Chan a ‘do you know this guy?’ look as he shook his head no.

“Hey,” he had said to you, pointedly ignoring Chan. 

“Hey…” you answered politely but cautiously as you looked over at Chan. Chan was eyeing him suspiciously.

“I just wanted to let you know how good you look in this light,” he spoke again with a charming smile and his hand extended out for a handshake. “I’m Jeonghan.” You blushed at him and slipped your hand in his as you introduced yourself. Chan’s eyes sharpened into a dangerous glare when Jeonghan twisted your hand in his and brushed his lips against your knuckles. He coughed and finally drew the stranger’s attention to him. 

“I’m Chan,” he said and reached his hand out, knuckles up, to mock Jeonghan.

Jeonghan, unbothered, simply laughed and nodded his head. His eyes fixed into a cold stare that contrasted his smile. “Hey man.” 

Jeonghan reached over for one of the napkins that sat between you and Chan and pulled out of a pen and wrote down his number. “Text me?” And when you nodded, he walked away, back to his group of friends who jovially patted him on the back at his return.

“That guy is an absolute creep,” Chan breathed out, not bothering to wait for him to be completely out of earshot.

“Chan…” you warned. “He seemed nice, and he was kind of cute.” You pulled out your phone.

“He looks like half the guys on this campus,” Chan rolled his eyes as he looked at the number written on your napkin. “Don’t text him.”

“Too late,” you replied, as you hit send on a message.

Once Hansol and Seungkwan found out about it, they were on Chan’s side. 

Jeonghan had asked you out on a date immediately upon seeing your message and that Friday night, Seungkwan and Chan had come over to your dorm. You were in the middle of getting ready, still trying to settle on an outfit and the two of them were sitting on your twin bed watching you with interest. 

Hansol stood by you at your wardrobe, helping you pick and choose tops for your outfit while Seungkwan deeply sighed.

“Are you sure we can’t convince you to not go?” Hansol prodded even as he handed you another piece. You held it against your body to check it in your reflection before shaking your head and handing it back to him.

“Guys,” you pleaded. “I really like him. I don’t see what the issue is.”

You watched Chan scoff and make eye contact with you in the mirror. His bright eyes watching yours carefully. “I can give you a list. Alphabetized even.”

You turned to glare at him. “Bite me, Chan.” Jeonghan had joined you and Chan and Seungkwan for lunch the next afternoon with a fully cooked meal for you and a bouquet of flowers, and you and Chan had been arguing about him since then. Even Seungkwan was skeptical of him and how he seemed to love-bomb you, as he called it, right after meeting you. “It’s nice to be with a guy that’s so direct about how he feels about me.”

“That’s the problem,” Seungkwan spoke up. “Isn’t he a little too interested? The flowers, coming to your classes with breakfast, like that’s nice, but you’ve known him for all of two days. He hasn’t even asked about your major.”

You chewed your lip. You could argue with Chan all day long, but Seungkwan had always been able to get you to see reason, even if you ultimately chose to ignore it. Which you did. There was only 15 minutes left before the time Jeonghan said he’d pick you up, and you decided you were too far in to back out on him now.

“Seungkwan’s right,” Hansol said. “And he’s been a shit texter, hasn’t he?”

“Okay, but not everyone is a good texter,” you argued. You grabbed one last outfit option and walked into the bathroom to change. “Sol, you barely send five words in a single text on a good day.” You walked back out after changing and watched as the three gave you a reluctant thumbs up.

You settled onto your bed and Hansol sat beside you and fussed with the collar of your top. “Shouldn’t that jackass be here soon?” Chan sighed.

“Yeah,” you replied. “He said 7, so five more minutes.”

At 7 p.m., Jeonghan was nowhere to be found.

At 7:15 p.m. he hadn’t answered any of your texts.

At 7:38 p.m. you got a call from Jeonghan. Who butt-dialed you. From the club. With his friends who congratulated him on getting a girl to fall for him in a record-breaking five days.

At 7:45 you were crying into your pillow.

At 8 p.m. Chan said, “A guy who likes you isn’t going to see you as a challenge to be won.”

“Woah woah woah,” Soonyoung chimed in. “How do you know that he’s emotionally unavailable?”

Soonyoung’s voice brought you back to the situation at hand.

You’re not quite sure why you were suddenly feeling defensive. Seungkwan and Chan had only ever looked out for your best interests, especially after that incident with Jeonghan. But when you remember how shy Wonwoo got after he finished playing, and how open he was with you the night before, a part of you desperately wanted them to be wrong.

“Have you met him?” Hansol chuckled. “That man is the definition of ‘if looks could kill.’ He only looks nice when he’s on stage.”

“Well he can’t be all bad if he can write songs that are so… personal” Soonyoung continued to protest. Seungkwan was right to bring him. His presence was refreshing. 

“You somehow manage to be passing psych when you’re an absolute dumbass,” Chan countered. Seungkwan swatted at him and he immediately folded. “Sorry. Instinct. What I meant to say was that Wonwoo holds his cards close to his chest, not necessarily that he doesn’t have feelings.”

“My question still stands,” Soonyoung replied. “How can you write songs like that and be emotionally unavailable?”

Chan looked at him with frustration. “It’s not that hard,” he retorted.

Again, Seungkwan swatted at his arm and shot him a glare. “Show some sympathy, dumbass.”

Chan corrected himself. “I mean I imagine it’s not that hard.”

Soonyoung rolled his eyes before continuing. “No offense dude,” he began as Chan scowled at him. “But you are the biggest loverboy I’ve ever met. It’s pretty obvious which songs you had a hand in writing because they’re so very clearly written by a simp.” 

“First of all, how would you know?” Chan accused. “And second of all… which songs do you think are mine?” he blushed as Soonyoung smirked. He was a lot more perceptive than he let on.

Soonyoung cleared his throat as he began to sing… croak, more like. 

“Oh, show me a map of your soul Every second from now I’m gonna love you completely.”

Soonyoung only stopped when Chan lobbed a pillow at his face, but it didn’t stop him from laughing. That was the song you’d danced with Soonyoung to the first night. 

He was right. 

Chan wrote that song when the four of you were still in high school, around your sophomore year. He was really into one girl… oh, her name slipped your mind now. It was the night of the winter formal and the four of you had spent weeks coming up with the perfect plan for him to confess to her and Chan was more nervous than you’d ever seen him.

“Are you guys sure I have to tell her?” Chan had sweat dripping down his forehead even as you stood on the balcony of the ballroom in the middle of December. He had already pulled his coat off, left only in his white button up and red tie, both of which he’d undone a bit to try to cool himself off.

“Yes!” you and Seungkwan both cried out.

“But what if she hates me after this?”

“Do you know how stupid you sound right now?” Hansol scoffed at him, your breath coming out in puffs in front of you.

“But–”

“No buts, Chan,” Seungkwan chastised. “Just man up and tell her how you feel, she deserves to know.”

“And you both deserve to be happy,” you added. “She’s going to love this.”

Chan, with a nod of determination, reached for his guitar case and shook his fingers out, trying to warm them up. Seungkwan gave you a quick nod and you were thankful to be able to get out of the cold.

You walked back into the ballroom to find the mystery girl already wearing a coat. The dancing was still in full swing and the band that the school had hired was playing some slow jazz standards. Under the glow of the warm lights, you could see your hands regaining color after having to hype your nervous friend up for over 20 minutes in the cold. She smiled when she saw you approach. 

“Headed somewhere?” Hansol had asked her casually.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I couldn’t find Chan, so I thought I’d go out to the balcony for a breather.”

Perfect. You smiled sweetly at her as she raised an eyebrow. She knew something was up, but she was either too nice to say anything, or already knew exactly what Chan was planning. “Oh? I’ll walk you out.”

You and Hansol slipped your arms into hers and you reached for your phone with your other hand, shooting Seungkwan a text, telling him to clear out. He found the three of you just as you reached the french doors. His cheeks were pale with a bright spot of red that stretched across his cheeks and his hair was disheveled from the wind.

“Oh hey,” Seungkwan said casually. He pulled you and Hansol away from the girl as she looked at the two of you with confusion. “Sorry, we just have to, uh, discuss some things. But the balcony’s free.”

“Thanks…” she said skeptically. The three of you watched as she finally walked out of eyesight before Seungkwan grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you upstairs to another balcony. 

“Seungkwan, you suck at bluffing,” you chuckled at him as he rolled his eyes.

Once you were all settled, the three of you headed towards the railing. You could hear Chan’s voice crack as he spoke, “I wrote a song for you.” Seungkwan looked at you curiously as you reached for the tie of your coat and began to wrap it around your phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” Seungkwan whisper-shouted to you. He made no moves to stop you. 

“He’ll want a video of this… and if it blows up in his face, it’ll be great blackmail” you explained matter-of-factly. “Now you two hand me your ties, it’s not long enough.”

With a roll of his eyes, he obeyed and you knotted the two ties together. Hansol chuckled and handed his over without complaint, adding it to the chain. He made sure the phone was secure and hit record before leaning over the balcony to dangle your phone over the edge. The three of you listened in awe as you listened to Chan sing. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard him play the guitar, but it was the first time you’d heard his voice. You didn’t think he had it in him to carry a tune, honestly, but he did surprisingly well. The girl ended up rejecting him, unfortunately, but it didn’t stop Chan from writing songs about whatever girl he fell in love with each month.

Soonyoung’s voice snapped you out of your memories. “Was I right?” he questioned smugly.

Chan blushed and turned away with a huff. “Whatever.”

“See?” Soonyoung raised an eyebrow at you as he continued. “All I’m saying is that maybe that song was about you, and maybe he only knows how to express his feelings through music. I don’t think it’s a reach.” Soonyoung put his hands up in defense as he finished his statement.

“Well look,” Seungkwan conceded. “Soonyoung has a point. Some people are better at expressing themselves in other ways, like some people are acts of service people.” He pointed over at you. “Like how you make sure Chan and Soonyoung always have class notes when they need it.”

He pointed at himself. “Words of affirmation,” he explained. “I like to tell people directly when they mean something to me.” 

Finally at Soonyoung and Hansol. “Quality time.” Soonyoung scoffed as he wondered how Seungkwan read him so easily. Seungkwan focused his attention on Soonyoung as he explained. “You don’t have to hang out with us if you don’t want to, but you’re here.”

“Whatever,” Soonyoung mumbled, but his cheeks turned pink anyway. Soonyoung was perceptive, but Seungkwan could read any person and a situation upside down and backwards.

“Well how does that help me?” you asked. “We can speculate about Wonwoo’s feelings all day long… but I’d like to have a concrete answer.”

Seungkwan’s eyes lit up as he devised a plan.

“Chan, what did you say your psych project was again?”

“To spend time with… oh no,” Chan trailed off as he watched the all too familiar mischievous glint in Seungkwan’s eyes. He sat up straighter. “Kwan, don’t include me in your plans.” “What?” Soonyoung asked. “What are you planning?”

“Well, if you and Wonwoo just so happen to do things together, and Soonyoung and Chan just so happen to be there too,” Seungkwan explained with a smug smile. “Then you can have them keep track of whether or not there are signs that Wonwoo’s actually into you.”

Chan groaned as Soonyoung laughed heartily. “That sounds so fun, actually,” Soonyoung said. Seungkwan returned his grin.

“It really doesn’t,” Chan countered. “Why can’t you and Hansol go?” he asked Seungkwan.

“I’m busy working on my own projects,” Hansol shrugged. He kept a neutral expression as he continued. “Seungkwan has his capstone.” If Hansol and Seungkwan were both on board, so was Chan, however reluctant he may be.

“So it has to be you and Soonyoung,” Seungkwan confirmed to Chan. “Plus you guys will keep each other balanced, since Chan is a skeptic and Soonyoung is a believer. And you guys get a good grade on your project.”

“C’mon, jackass,” Soonyoung rolled his eyes at Chan. “It’s only a few more weeks till the end of the semester.”

Usually, you and Seungkwan were the schemers of the group. One of you would come up with a plan, and the other would be ready to make it happen. This time however, you had a weird feeling. Anticipation? Excitement? You didn’t have time to decide, because soon, all eyes were on you.

“What do you think?” Seungkwan asked. You scanned their faces. Soonyoung and Seungkwan looked at you with excitement. Hansol also seemed interested in this plan. Chan, though he tried to hide it, also raised an eyebrow in interest.

“Ah,” you sighed. “What the hell? Why not?”

A/N: first, i am soooo sorry that jeonghan caught strays in this one, lol. originally, i was gonna make him a guy who tried to date you to convince you to join a cult (bc surprisingly, when i was in university, cult recruitment was a big thing?) but decided to make him a jack-ass instead. also the idea of Chan being a "can i sing for u" type of guy is so funny to me and you can't convince me that if he had a little sibling he wouldn't be a protective overbearing little shit.

[totallynotobsessedwithfandoms]

Random ninjago headcanons

Nya, Jay, PIXAL, and Zane are the most mechanically gifted of the team

Jay used to love building cars and big mechanical things but as he got older he started getting more interested in coding

Now Nya builds the things and Jay helps her code them

Zane taught Cole how to cook and bake better

Lloyd looks normal. Like freakishly normal. Like, skin too perfect of a shade, eyes too symmetrical, hair the perfect shade of blonde, etc.

Kai hates swimming but loves the beach because it’s nice and warm and sunny

Zane follows to the law to a concerning degree

PIXAL…does not

She considers the law more guidelines than actual rules

Jay and Lloyd taught Kai how to use his cellphone

Nya and Zane have who can hold their breath underwater the longest contests

The rest of the team finally started liking cliff gordon movies after Jay told them that was his bio dad

The rest of the ninja had tons of recurring dreams about someone asking them to wish it all away 

Jay and Nya finally told them everything that had happened

Jay’s hair was always curly, he just didn’t know when he was younger and brushed it out weirdly so it was a frizzy mess and then he would tame it with tons of hair gel

Pre-season 8 Jay is the only person to ever come close to rivaling the amount of hair gel Kai uses

No one really has their own clothes at the momentary because everyone raids everyone’s closets

ESPECIALLY Nya and Lloyd

Lloyd started it when he was really little, Nya started it as a show of power

Now everyone steals everyone’s clothes

The only way PIXAL can change her hair is using welding

She only trusts Nya to help her with that

Jay and Nya take weekly ballroom dancing classes

After Prime Empire the rest of the ninja will sometimes join them

Usually Cole

Lloyd calls Kai and Nya his brother and sister in his head but he hasn’t had the guts to call them that out loud

Every so often the ninja do karaoke

Jay and Nya always do some sort of romantic duet (with varying degrees of success) 

Kai, Cole, and Jay team up to sing rock songs

Zane is a surprisingly good singer 

So is Lloyd

Jay stayed in touch with Unagami after prime empire 

Cole and Vania write letters to each other on the regular, usually filled with whatever dumb stuff the ninja did and what the Upply and other inhabitants of Shintaro are currently up to

The ninja have a giant groupchat with all the elemental masters and the only texts ever sent are usually embarrassing photos of someone screwing up their own element 

Zane might be the mom of the group but Kai is concerningly good at any and all type of housework

Cole is the middle child. I stand by this

Jay has way too many pins and buttons on his backpack

Lloyd has a massive sweet tooth

He and Cole go for candy and cake runs whenever they can 

Jay is not allowed to go shopping because he buys the most random things

Kai and Jay are the clumsiest ninja

Ever since PIXAL became part of the ninja Cyrus Borg has begun to consider the ninja as his children as well

All of the ninja are insanely competitive

Nya helped Cole get over his fear of water after turning back to human

Dareth and Ronin are the ninja’s weird uncle 

Jay loves musical theatre

Kai, Jay, and Cole recreated the Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon versus Maul fight while Zane sang/played the music. young Lloyd recorded it and now threatens to show it to Nya and PIXAL whenever everyone’s being stupid

PIXAL curses the most out of everyone

Kai doesn’t curse because when he was younger he tried to keep Nya from learning curse words and that transferred to Lloyd as well

Jay’s natural freckles are super light and unable to see unless you’re super close up

Nya was the first to find out he had freckles one of the first times they were cuddling together after season 6

She absolutely adored them and so he draws over them with a darker pencil so that they’re more visible 

Jay loves drawing and doodling but doesn’t get into painting until after seabound 

Cole and Nya have arm wrestling contests 

Zane almost always wins paper rock clamp, the only people who can ever beat him is PIXAL and weirdly Kai

Kai is great at riddles. no idea why

One time Jay put food dye in Kai’s hair gel and he didn’t notice 

Kai’s hair had a blue sheen for weeks

The resulting prank war nearly destroyed the monestary 

It ended when someone managed to fill each person’s room with things relating to their elemental power

Zane’s room was full of ice and snow, everything in Nya’s room was soaked with water, Kai’s furniture was on fire, Jay’s blankets were so full of static electricity he nearly knocked himself out, Cole’s room was packed full of boulders, PIXAL’s room was somehow full of a ton of remote controlled robots, and Lloyd’s room was full of green balloons. 

They never did find the culprit 

(Master Wu had gotten so fed up with the prank war that he had contacted Skylor, who was all to happy to help) 

[lususnatura]

🎤 🎤 🎤

a song that i associate with my muse meme!

AHH, hey, ramone!! thank you for sending in this prompt :D since you sent in three of the mic's, i shall now be treating you to three songs that make me think of blamore when i hear them / that i associate with it. an explanation of why i chose them will be in the tags <3

hozier - who we are.

icehouse - crazy.

depeche mode - personal jesus.

[marijanetunes]

my goal for when i turn 27 is to be so unbelievably strange.

i’ve recently become aware of the crushing amount of shame i’ve started carrying since 2020. it was brought on by a multitude of things— i gained a lot of weight, i lost my job and was out of work for two and a half years, all my friends got married meanwhile ive never dated anyone, and most pertinently i was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2022 which made me look back on my past actions and realize just how disastrous it all was. i always knew something was quote unquote wrong with me, but i had also internalized the idea that i was either below the threshold of genuine mental illness or reallly high functioning. and i mean i guess to some levels i was “high functioning”— i never attempted suicide no matter how badly i wanted to, i never spent any time in hospital no matter how much i needed help, and i knew well enough to keep my mouth shut when i was actively psychotic. i also had a drinking problem and a hair trigger temper, i felt everything too deeply and expressed those feelings impulsively, i alternated between demanding bottomless intimacy from my loved ones and shoving them away when it was no longer serving my need for intensity. i never learned how to act so even when i was euthymic i was unstable. when i told my close friends about my diagnosis part of me wanted/expected them yo be surprised but the reaction was just like, “thank god”. and that combined with the fact i was “failing” in so many other areas made me so self conscious and determined to be normal. people who met me post diagnosis have a completely different view of me— honestly the best thing they had to say about me was that i’m “nice” or “agreeable”. i stopped engaging with art because i was so afraid of doing it wrong (whether as a viewer or a participant) or talking too much about it and revealing the fact that i’m crazy. i withdrew into myself and just wanted to remain comfortable, to have people like me.

but heres the thing. when i was unmedicated and insane, people didn’t just like me, they were obsessed with me. my bonds were intimate, i had love at first sight connections, i was Known. i was exposed to the world and i could experience the true joy of that. i wanted to die more often than necessary but when i was having fun, i was having fucking fun.

and thats really scary because like, when you’re living that boldly you embarrass yourself so much. and for the last four, going on five years thought i was already so inherently embarrassing that adding any more would make me completely inhuman. but i now realize i was only living half a life. and whats more, now that i’m not allocatinng so much mental energy to not exploding and dying, i can actually create art!! i’ve never really done that before!! and it does feel very embarrassing to be bad at art when i’m pushing 30!! but i will never create good art if i don’t create bad art. and i want to create, i want to experience, for the love of god i want to live.

mierle ukeles’ manifesto made such an impact on me as well. i need to cultivate my life and death instincts both. i spent too long with no instincts at all. i am going to deep clean my apartment on the long weekend so that i can start on my clay figurines. i am going to tell my best friend i love her and borrow her sewing machine. i am going to fix my budget so i can pay for my guitar lessons. i am going to live like an animal and one day i’ll die like an animal. its embarrassing to pretend i was ever doing anything else.

[i-love-ptv]

Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Goin’ On ˚̣̣ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣

Pairing: Husband!Rafe Cameron x Soccer-mom!Wife!Reader

It’s not easy being a soccer-mom, especially when dads hit on you at every game as if you’re not married to Rafe.

Wc: 1,596

Fluff, Protective Rafe making an appearance, kinda pushy guy (idk what to say)

An: I’ve really wanted to write a fic based on this song, and this idea randomly popped into my head so! Am I using the names I wanna name my kids? Yes, yes I am.

Not proofread tbh

Feedback always appreciated lovelies!! xx

“I’ll be back, ‘mkay doll?”

You hum in acknowledgement, eyes peering back at the field after looking up.

Your husband, Rafe leant down and places a firm kiss on your forehead.

“Yeahhh, Daddy’s gonna be back, baby.” Rafe coos at your two year old, who was sitting on your lap, babbling freely while peering at him with her big doe eyes.

Rafe walks off the bleachers; in search of the concession stand to buy food for the three of you.

You brush your hand over your young daughter’s head, making sure her somewhat oversized hat is still covering her head entirely. Her hand wraps around your index finger.

It was oddly humid today, if you continued moving, you’d break a slight sweat. You can't even imagine what your daughter -Stacy must be feeling, running around on the large grassy field under the beaming bright sun.

You were proud of your baby girl though, nonetheless. And so was Rafe, of course.

You shout loudly when you notice the game is about to start, bellowing out a “Go Stacy!”

Stacy’s eyes easily found yours, for you and Rafe would always sit in the same spot on the bleachers.

Her eyes were slightly wide due to your shout, despite you and Rafe always cheering for her during her games.

She’s motioning for you to ‘shh’, putting her fingers to her lips before getting into her position.

“Which one’s yours?” You hear to the left of you, the unknown voice makes you tear your eyes away from the field.

You smile shortly at the unfamiliar man next to you, “Number 22.”

You can’t help but notice how he’s rather scruffy looking, an odd contrast to your upkept husband with his neatly buzzed hair.

“Mine’s number 13.” He says, flashing his teeth at you.

You gasp and shoot up a little, making you look down at your daughter on your lap. “Valerie’s yours? Oh she’s just the sweetest!”

The man chuckles, looking deeply in your eyes. This makes your eyebrows raise, slightly in confusion, but mostly in discomfort.

He hadn’t done anything out of the norm, you’d randomly talk to the other moms around too, but something about him made you uncomfortable.

“My name's Brandon, and yours?”

You introduce yourself briefly, before turning back towards the game.

His eyes dart to your left hand, looking for a ring, for any indication that you belong to someone else. He smiles sharply when he finds your fingers bare. This goes unnoticed by you.

Little does he know, you do have your ring on, just around your neck.

Your biggest fear was your youngest accidentally pulling off your ring, resulting in you losing it. Or, even worse: it pokes her eye or something of that nature.

You suppose you could be considered a ‘Helicopter-mom’ at times, simply going to the extremes to make sure your kids are happy and healthy at every point in time.

Rafe is the exact same way, maybe even a little worse. But you knew he was just protective, he loves this life that he has with you, since he had no idea the two of you would’ve been together for so long.

You had started dating Rafe when you were 18 and he was 19. It was good for the first few months, disregarding the few arguments that you had. But then, you had caught Rafe doing cocaine.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to shake the look on his face from your memory.

You weren’t supposed to be at the party, you said you were busy filling out college applications.

So when he was mid-line, and he saw you standing there all dolled up, watching him with glossy eyes, he felt his heart shatter into pieces.

You weren’t supposed to find out, he wanted to keep this away from you, to keep you close to him.

He promised that he would try and stay sober for you, but eventually he’d give in every time the opportunity was in front of him. This resulted in several arguments, and surprisingly, a break up.

But things are different now. You both are in your 30’s, you got married, and of course, had two beautiful babies together.

Rafe knew he’d be crazy to fuck things up now, when he has the perfect life right in front of him.

Speaking of which; you’re really starting to wonder what the hell is taking him so long just to get some goddamn hotdogs and drinks.

You’re bouncing your knee anxiously, which makes your daughter giggle. You wish she wasn’t finding this amusing, but you know she can’t help it.

“Well who’s this cute girl, huh?” The man coos, tickling your daughter’s side.

“Her name is Noelle.” You huff, your mood quickly shifting due to this stranger touching your daughter.

He lets out another chuckle, you wish you never had to hear it again. “Sounds like you’re quoting Teenage Dirtbag to me.”

You give him a pointed look, you’re really getting sick of his pestering. “That’s where I got it from.”

Abruptly, the crowd starts cheering madly. You look around and see Stacy's team celebrating briefly; they had just scored a goal.

You cheer and clap, grabbing Noelle’s chubby hands and making her raise her arms wildly while giggling with her.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we could-” Before Brandon could finish his sentence, none other than Rafe Cameron comes stomping up the bleachers, huffing and puffing angrily.

He sits down and sighs, “God, I’m sorry babe. The line was so long! I swear I’m going grey right now.”

“And I missed the goddamn play!” Rafe exclaims. He looks over at you and immediately goes quiet once he sees those wide baby eyes that look at him curiously.

“Da?” Noelle mutters, reaching her tiny hands towards Rafe’s larger ones.

“Yeah. Da’s here babygirl, do you want your food? Huh sweet girl?”

Rafe hands you your food, setting his food aside so he can put Noelle in his lap. He begins to split half his hotdog in pieces for her.

You glance to the left, you notice Brandon looking like a fish out of water.

Rafe is the CEO of one of, if not the biggest business company around. And Brandon had just borderline harassed his wife, who was holding his child.

Brandon sneers at the two of you in silence while the game continues, nearly boiling at the fact that he couldn’t have you.

Your head is laying on Rafe’s shoulders, you’re rubbing circles on Noelle’s shoulder as she settles down.

“Everything alright babe?” Rafe asks, trying to peer down at your face.

You untuck your necklace with your wedding ring from your shirt, fiddling with it. “Yeah, now that you’re here Ray.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a few seconds.

“…What does that mean?”

You hesitate to answer, but you do regardless, “Nothing! It’s just uh..That guy next to me, was kinda like hassling me I guess.”

This makes Rafe straighten his back.

“He do somethin’ to you doll?” Rafe questions in a whisper. You know you have about 30 seconds to try and calm him down before he’s banned from every soccer game left in the season.

“No, okay? I’m fine, it’s cool. I need you to calm down Ray.”

Rafe’s nose is flaring, “What about Ellie? Did he touch her?”

You feel your throat closing up, your heart is damn near pounding out of your chest.

You don’t say anything to Rafe, but that look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know.

You grab his bicep, trying to keep him grounded. Even though he’s changed, some parts of him haven’t.

Rafe speaks lowly in your ear, but not too much to frighten you in any way. “I’ll take care of it, okay? Don’t worry y’pretty little head about it.”

Rafe presses a firm kiss against your cheek, then presses a softer one to your lips.

After 30 more minutes, and 2 more goals, Stacy’s team wins.

You and Rafe cheer loudly, letting out “That’s our baby girl!”

You meet Stacy at the bottom of the bleachers, holding Noelle in your hand as the littlest claps her hands between Stacy’s face.

You’re too busy congratulating your daughter to notice Rafe pulling Brandon aside while his daughter, Valerie is off talking to her friends.

Rafe puts a firm hand on his shoulder, “Hey man.”

Brandon lets out a nervous laugh, “Hey there, Rafe Cameron, right?”

“Yeah, let’s keep this short. I better not see or hear you talking to my wife again, do you hear me? I don’t give a shit what happened.”

Rafe continues shortly, “And keep your fucking hands to yourself, if I find out you touched my either of my daughters again, I swear to God himself I’ll put you under.”

The two men are holding eye contact, one looks with confidence and borderline rage, while the other looks with fear.

Rafe walks down the bleachers, meeting you and your girls.

“You were amazing out there sweetheart!” Rafe smiles while pulling Stacy into a bear hug.

“Jesus dad, you’re crushing me!” Stacy laughs with a slight wheeze.

Rafe ruffles her hair and puts his arm around your neck.

“All good to go?”

You nod your head, and with that, the four of you begin to walk to Rafe’s parked car.

Rafe realizes that this isn’t the first time you’ve been hit on at a soccer game, or anywhere in fact. And this definitely won’t be the last.

Cause everybody’s in love with Stacy’s mom.

[norikuna]

SHE TOLD YOU THAT SHE CELIBATE, SHE TOLD ME I COULD NAIL HER SH*T — gojo satoru minors dni

PART I. of the new years letters, a series of fics dedicated to some of my lovely mutuals! 🎁

prologue. → you wish gojo satoru would stop trying to ask you out. not that you don't like him, but dating the one guy that you're smacked silly about would mean that he could break your heart and leave you in ruins. so it's best to keep some distance right?

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. college au, reader wears a skirt, reader is choso's twin and yuuji's older sister, but no appearance detailed. kissing, making out, óral (f) receiving, general bitchiness and fuckups 😚 ensemble cast of poor bystanders (geto, shoko, sukuna, yuki etc)

word count. 10k! song inspiration. gang baby — nle choppa

a/n. it's because of that one edit by satorupedia that's going around rn. yall know which one 😭 art by touno_stupa on twt!

dedication. yayyy decided to start my little gift series for new years with this fic inspired and dedicated to @fushitoru who was one of the first blogs i followed on here before i was super familiar with jujutsu kaisen. aashi writes thee most wonderful gojo fics that are so well characterised and heart-stoppingly adorable and HAWT. 😁 🤭 and i easily associate her with physics/college au gojo now, ever since her spiderman gojo fic that lives in my head!!!!

gojo in this fic:

ACT I. don't puck around and find out!

"i ran into gojo today," choso says, his voice as unbothered and monotone as ever, scraping the gravel lazily with the heel of his scuffed combat boots, "or he ran into me."

"gojo satoru?"

"how many gojos do we know?" your twin brother huffs, giving you a dry side-eye. but before you can retort something equally acrid, he's yanking at the sleeve of your sweatshirt, halting you midstep, "wait. car."

you blink out of your tired daze just in time to see a battered camry putter past, its engine groaning like it's on its last legs. just how you feel after a long day of seminars and lectures. the car rattles down the street with the grace of a tin can tied to a string.

"thanks," you mutter, half-heartedly as you shift your laptop case from one tired arm to the other, "could have been the end of my genius academic career."

"would have been a short one either way," choso quietly quips, earning himself a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"so?" you press on.

"so, what?"

"what did gojo say?"

"ohhh," choso drawls, in that irritating way of his that indicates he has no idea how to deliver good gossip, news or any form of tea, "he asked if i wanted to play hockey for his team tomorrow. they're down a player ever since kento went on exchange."

"hockey?" your eyebrow arches, and skepticism curls your lips for choso is hardly known for his athleticism. you mean, you're sure he has the physical ability in him somewhere but you (and the rest of the world) are yet to see it, "are you gonna join the team, then?"

not that you care about gojo's stupid, state-tournament winning team. of course not. you're just curious. and curiosity is harmless.

it has nothing to do with the fact that you woke up last night wanting to jump gojo satoru's bones. just like you did the night before, and before. and the week before that. yeah, suffice to say that this has been going on for a while.

"nah," choso says, shaking dull, greasy strands of dark hair out of his eyes, "got placements tomorrow."

right. placements. choso's all about pathology and lab medicine and test tubes, while you get queasy at the mere mention of haemoglobin. and it unsettles you mildly at how your twin brother's eyes light up at the mere mention of a blood test.

"and?" you prod when he starts to drift off again, his attention wandering like it always does.

choso is often like a calm river. slow, broad and lazy.

this time, you pull at his one of his headphone cords to reel him back, "did gojo say anything else?"

choso gives you that dull look, quiet but loaded. like he's already solved a puzzle that you didn't know you were trying to hide. it just makes your stomach twist, "why do you care what gojo satoru says?"

"i don't," you snap, far too fast, like your tongue is racing your brain to a crash site. the lie sits heavy in your throat, thick and obvious.

choso's pale and dry lips twitch, and you wondered what happened to the lip balm you threw into his christmas stocking last year, "should i have told him you could sub in for his team instead?"

"no-one likes a smartass, cho," you grumble, speeding up your steps as your twin leisurely rummages through his fraying backpack for his house keys. you roll your eyes and push ahead, jamming your own keys into the lock before you die of boredom waiting for him to dig through the trash heap that lies at the bottom of his bag, "anyway, i was just asking. you brought gojo up."

choso trails behind you, his tone infuriatingly casual, "you always get weird when someone mentions him. i thought you guys were friends."

"we are friends. and i don't get weird."

"you get so weird. even yuki said so."

"i love yuki, i do. but she has no idea what she's talking about —"

the door swings open, cutting off your false deflection. standing there is yuuji, with half a sandwich dangling from his mouth like he's some kind of feral creature. there's a smear of mayonnaise clinging to his cheek as he yanks a red, track hoodie over his tank top.

"mmph! hey, you guys!" he muffles through a mouthful of bread, waving at you with the enthusiasm that only a teenage boy could muster after inhaling half the fridge.

"where are you off to?" you peer at your younger brother, your eyes zeroing in on his mutilated sandwich. a sandwich that you're certain you made for yourself this morning, leaving it for a study session upon your return.

"track practice," yuuji says, swallowing the last bite whole, "then dinner with fushiguro and kugisaki." he's already halfway down the driveway, sneakers untied and laces flopping on the pavement behind him.

choso narrows his eyes, "got money? or a water bottle? a hat? did you wear sunscreen?"

"i'm good!" yuuji calls back without breaking stride, waving a quick hand at the two of you.

"why don't you hold his hand and walk him to school, mother?"

"shut up," choso grumbles as he brushes past you into the house, throwing you an exaggerated scowl of wounded, elder-brother pride over his shoulder, "why don't you hold gojo's hand to hockey practice?"

your bookbag swings through the air, connecting to the back of choso's oversized head and a loud thud follows.

ACT II. long overdue and lacking a spine

you had been in this library for hours, eyes blurring as the words in your textbook stubbornly refused to make sense. it was all a gross blur of terms and diagrams, and your $8.00 coffee had gone lukewarm an hour ago.

study, pass, graduate. get a good gpa. that was the plan, no distractions.

your phone, however, had other ideas as it sat innocently next to your stack of notes. you tapped the screen quickly under the guise of a 'quick break' but before long, you were deep into instagram stories. someone's dog, a flyer for a rave that you definitely weren't going to, and then, of course, him.

gojo satoru. on someone's reposted story with a classic, grainy photo of one of the campus's most darling boys. long arm draped casually over some girl. both of them lit in the neon glow of what looked like a party bus. he wasn't even looking at the camera, just flashing that effortless grin that you had seen your entire life growing up. and the girl was gorgeous, obviously. not that you cared about that.

but speak of the devil and he hath appear. a long shadow fell over the table, and you felt the chill in your bones, trying not to shift in your seat.

"go away, gojo," you muttered, not even deigning to look up.

"how'd you know it was me?" his voice is teasing, all light and airy as he's pulling out the chair next to you.

"what can i say? lucky guess," you reply dryly, keeping your eyes glued to the suspiciously-stained textbook. worried that you'll look up and your iron resolve will disappear from one glance at big, blue eyes.

but out of the corner of his eye, you try not to twitch at the sight of the soft, pale blue hoodie that swallows his broad frame whole. thick, white strands of hair that fall gently over his face. and that cloying scent of mint and something faintly sweet that leaves your ears hot and your heart sitting in your throat.

study, pass, graduate. get a good gpa. that's what you tell yourself in a now failing mantra.

"are you following me today?" you ask, flipping a page with exaggerated nonchalance, like you're not about to tear up pathetically from a stupid crush.

"caught me," gojo says, the grin audible even in his voice, "i just couldn't resist finding you. is that what you want me to say?"

you finally look up, swallowing at unfairly fine features, "saw you were at some party yesterday. i didn't think you'd be on campus today."

gojo just laughs, the sound soft and infuriating, "keeping tabs on me now?" and he's rifling through his bag for something, "or you don't think the library's a good look for me? i'm broadening my horizons. testing the waters."

you narrow your eyes, willing the heat rising in your face to stay put and not crawl into your voice, "i think you're testing my patience. i have a test tomorrow, so if you're here to waste my time..."

"maybe i just wanted to hang out with my friend," gojo says, tearing open a kitkat wrapper in an obnoxious way that echoes through the silent hall, and the crinkle of plastic grates against your nerves, "we haven't seen each other in ages."

"don't you have a lot of other people to hang out with nowadays?" you're mentally beating yourself with a bat at your question, wincing at how it sounds like you keep count of who he hangs out with, and you're pathetically down bad for him. like a 90s singer begging on his knees for a kiss.

"i mean, i could hang out with them," gojo says, breaking his kitkat horizontally like a monster, "but they're not you."

his sunglasses are gone, revealing eyes so blue they look otherworldly, and he's throwing you that smiling, lopsided grin that makes your heart run around a room and bang into the walls. but no. you were not going to let gojo satoru get to you. he probably made every girl feel like this, like they were the centre of his fast-paced universe. until the next shiny thing came along.

besides, gojo satoru dated models. or stunning cheerleaders. the kind of people who looked good under strobe lights, and in the glow of his party bus digital camera pics.

and hey, it's not like you were self-depreciating or awfully insecure. you liked who you were and you would never change it for anyone. quiet and ambitious. reserved, but down for some fun. you'd like to think you were the type of person who saw the world in a beautiful, cinematic light. but it was maddening how gojo satoru seemed to bring out the most juvenile issues in you that had your stomach turning itself into ugly knots.

"gojo," you try to sound as nonchalant as possible, "are you even here to study?"

as in why are you really here? please ask me out.

gojo looks unbothered, unshaken, "coffee. cake. maybe even some flirting, if you're up to it."

the universe hates you. it has a way of delivering what you want right into your hands, when...you don't exactly want it.

you blink at the white-haired man, disbelief bubbling under your skin, "you're not serious."

"why wouldn't i be?"

"c'mon, satoru. everyone knows you're not the actual dating type. you ever been in a relationship that wasn't pr and lasted for more than two weeks?"

absolutely bonkers at how your heart and your tongue are not on the same wavelength at all. it's like your mouth missed the memo and is just firing bullets that have gojo's grin faltering a bit, as a flicker of heated annoyance flashes in his eyes. even hurt, but it's gone too quickly for you to read into it.

"didn't realise that you thought i was that much of a joke," and you're not fond of how gojo's voice is quieter now, and a pretty sneer is dancing across his lips. you're biting your lip before you lose your stupid, petty resolve to not get involved with someone who could truly break your heart.

"if you didn't make everything a joke, it wouldn't be," you snap at him, and you're not even sure what you're angry at. there's no reason to be annoyed, or frustrated or even hurt and snippy with a friend who came and sat with you to catch up.

but you don't want to untangle whatever you're projecting onto gojo satoru, so you let bitter words spill over, "some of us don't have time for your games, gojo. we have real lives to deal with."

gojo's expression shifts completely, and that playful spark in his eyes is replaced with something colder as he stands up and shoves his hands into his pockets, "right." and his tone is clipped, pissed, "got it. no time for games."

you watch as gojo walks away, already tapping away on his phone, but his footsteps are quieter than you expect. part of you wants to call after him, to take back the teeth and claws that painted your words.

but instead, you just look away from him and grimace. you must have pulled an awful, twisted face — for the man sitting across from you leans in and asks if you need to take an aspirin, or if you're low on fibre.

ACT III. between the covers

the bookstore smells faintly of old paper and new ink. a sharp contrast to the chill lingering outside, so the warmth hits you like a welcome blanket. the air buzzes with the muted chatter of customers, and the occasional beep of a cash register.

you're winding your way through the aisles, set on two missions. find that jacket-cover book that you had been wanting for weeks, and to hunt down the manga that yuuji had begged you to pick up for him.

you dart past a couple lingering in front of a 'booktube' bestseller display, narrowing avoiding a child wielding a stuffed dragon that you can only assume is smaug the magnificent from the hobbit. straight into the quieter section of the store, tucked in the back and smack-bang right into —

thud!

your shoulder collides hard with someone else, sending you stumbling back a step.

"fuck's sake. watch it," the person snaps, his tone sharp.

"maybe you should —" you start to retort, before the words die and patter out on your tongue as your mouth goes dry.

gojo satoru, ladies and gentlemen.

he's scowling at you, with sunglasses pushed up onto his head that expose those ridiculously pale eyelashes under the glow of the overhead lights. he's layered on a crisp varsity jacket, over a thick hoodie, all shades of soft blue and grey. and he looks irritated, with thick brows furrowed at you. but you don't miss the faint surprise that flutters across his face when he takes you in.

"seriously?" gojo murmurs, though more to himself, and his voice still holds an edge that has you wilting, "out of all the aisles in this store..."

you blink, caught somewhere between an apology that dances on the edge of your lips, and a bewildered laugh at how the divine powers deliver the worst luck on you. instead, you shove your hands deep into the pockets of your aviator jacket, "sorry. didn't see you."

gojo's shoulders relax, but just barely. as though he's still caught in the heavy fog of tension from your last words to him. but to your mild credit, he doesn't quite look ready to storm out either. progress?

"so. what are you doing here?" you ask, trying to break the ice and pretend that you're not doing internal pirouettes.

"just had to pick up a textbook," gojo mutters, holding up a thin and over-priced looking book on something like...quantum mechanics, "exams are coming up. gotta keep the top spot, you know."

you blink, "you're actually studying?"

gojo raises his eyebrow, lips twitching into the faintest smile, "what? you think i roll into my classes and ace everything through sheer willpower? or i spend all day being a joke and annoying everyone, right?"

you sigh, feeling the frosty, ice-gaze settle once more over you, paralysing you from head to toe, "look, gojo. i don't know what came over me that day," and now you're being sincere, looking away from his narrowed stare, "it's like some crazy, evil monster came over me and it possessed me. i think i incarnated some demon king in me and i said all that mean shit."

he shifts slightly beside you, and you don't miss at how gojo's lower lip juts out at your apology, or how close he is to you right now. "and i was jus' being stupid. swear i don't think you're a joke." you try to pick up some random book, pretending you're very busy as you speak.

but it's very hard to look genuine when you've just picked up a glossy copy of 'stand and deliver: a hard look at fixing male erection problems.'

it earns you a small laugh, light and quick, that has you almost falling to your knees, and you can hear choso's voice in your head. muttering out a dulcet 'i told you so. you want him so bad.' but it's worth it as gojo leans against the nearest shelf, the annoyance from earlier starting to ebb.

and for a moment, gojo studies you and his expression is unreadable. for your part, you're pretending to read the back cover of 'stand and deliver' and some blurb about how this award-winning author managed to help her husband 'get it up' after twenty years of marriage.

but the tension in his posture dissolves, relaxing further and gojo hums, "noted." that's all he says, and an awkward silence hovers. it hovers so uncomfortably, leaving you floundering for a new topic until gojo's voice breaks the silence.

"choso's doing good, yeah? i heard he got a girlfriend."

you smile, "yeah. yuki, she's like really cool. i don't know how he did it."

gojo snickers, "i asked if he wanted to play hockey and i think he's been avoiding me all week."

you try to pretend its not because of how you re-enacted your little spat with gojo, demonstrating the entire thing for your twin brother. who had just called you stupid afterwards. among other not-so-flattering terms, with little consideration for your crushing, beating heart.

"you going to suguru's party next weekend?"

ah, now that's a curveball.

because, again, you are your own brand of cool. or so you'd like to think, so this isn't really a matter of pitying comparison. but geto suguru is like on another level of effortlessly vogue. at least in your eyes. you know that he's gojo's best friend and he delivered a (controversial) and killer project on gene editing last semester. you know that geto's involved with gig photography as a hobby, and thus, has personal access to some of the coolest bands in the city.

and you also know that he occasionally waves a hand to you, but it's not like you actually know the man. it's just mutual association.

"i wasn't planning on it," you hesitate, for you really had been planning to cram through a mid-term session, "but someone asked me to go as their date."

gojo's smile evaporates, "who?"

"naoya zenin," you say cautiously, watching as gojo's face twists. like he's resisting the urge to gag and tear his hair out.

"naoya? he's like a walking billboard for being an entitled cunt," gojo groans, running a hand through glossy hair that has you trailing your gaze over slender, sculpted hands.

you narrow your eyes, "he seemed...okay. smart, i think."

"oh, he's smart. i'm not questioning that," gojo crabs, "he's so arrogant though. i grew up seeing that guy everywhere. our families were like, half friends."

you cross your arms, suddenly defensive, "are you warning me? or just mad that he asked me out?"

gojo seems to flounder for half a second, quick enough that you could miss it and he could deny it, "jealous of naoya? please," and he scoffs as he leans back against the shelf, "i have taste. unlike some people."

"you can't be the one giving me a lecture on dating etiquette. i mean, how many dates do you have lined up for geto's party? two, three?"

gojo gives you a sly grin, "more than that, hah. gotta keep my options open."

"tacky," you wrinkle your nose, trying to pretend that you don't feel like you just guzzled a gallon of curdled milk, "and classless."

"yes," gojo sighs sadly, "and endlessly charming. it's so hard being me," shooting you back a quizzical look as he pulls up to the register, paying for his textbook.

as he paid, you linger near the shelves, pretending to browse while stealing glances at gojo satoru. there was something different about him today, something quieter that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

and on gojo's way out, he pauses in the doorway, turning back to look at you. his expression is still entirely unreadable, his gaze lingering for just a second longer than usual. and then he was gone.

ACT IV. blush confidential

there's a soft hum of pop music wafting from someone's phone, blending in with the rustle of fabric and the hiss of a straightener. your bedroom is a whirlwind of motion and chaos, with clothes thrown over chairs, and pre-game drinks piled up over your vanity.

"i can't believe you're not coming with us," you gripe to yuki, watching as she lounged up on your bed, denim crinkling as she shifted to adjust herself.

"tch, you know i love a good party," yuki grins with sparkling ideas, "but choso and i have a date tonight. he's been texting me about it all day."

you snicke at the thought of your hapless twin, "yeah. he was practically glued to your dm's. ran into the kitchen table twice this morning."

shoko snorts from her spot at the vanity, from where she's running a brush through cropped, chestnut hair, "choso nervous? i need to see that," she catches your eye in the mirror, "do you still have that lip gloss?"

"on it," you're digging into the vast depths of your purse, grazing your wallet and a hal-featen granola bar. stubbing your finger on an opened gel pen, before clutching a small shiny tube that you toss to shoko.

"so," shoko smacks her lips, "how's it going with naoya?"

you blink, pausing in the middle of capping all your drying pens, "what do you mean how's it going? nothing's going."

your friend swivels on her stool, raising a thin eyebrow, "he's your date at this party, right? and why him, of all people?"

"seriously. that guy's got a reputation. and not a good kind, for a very good reason," utahime chimes in from her corner, where she's yanking on a ribbon woven through her hair.

you shrug, suddenly feeling defensive under their collective scrutiny, "hey. he asked, i said yes. it's not that deep."

shoko exchanges a pointed glance with utahime, and both of them looking equally skeptical in a way that has you flushing.

"he's just annoying, you know," shoko points out, "he thinks he's better than everyone else, and half the time? it's just hot air."

"and the other half?"

"still hot air," shoko flatlines, "you can do better."

"anyone's better than gojo," utahime mutters, "you don't want to be stuck with him."

yuki's snickering, and you're doing your utter best to pretend that the mention of gojo satoru doesn't have you crawling up and down the walls like a termite on crack.

"speaking of gojo," yuki drawls, running a comb through a golden sheaf of thick hair, "is he going with anyone to this party?"

you freeze for half a second, before busying yourself with some new body mist that you picked up from a sale, all vanilla and coconut and macademia, "i ran into gojo the other day," and you keep your tone as neutral as possible, "and he said he had a few dates."

"ugh," shoko groans, wrinkling her nose, "of course he does," and utahime mutters an affirmative, exasperated sigh, echoed only by yuki, who pauses mid-brush to look at you sympathetically.

"what?" you snap, defensive, "why are you all looking at me like that?"

shoko tucks a thin strand of hair behind her ear, "well, i mean. you like gojo, right? like really like him?"

"huh?" the question catches you so off guard that you're left sputtering, as the perfume leaves a sharp and awful taste on your tongue, accidentally leaving a fresh spritz into your mouth, and not the curve of your neck.

"oh, blech. absolutely not," you say vehemently, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, "i don't like him like that. not that i think he's awful or anything —"

utahime crosses her arms, white sleeves brushing against each other, "he is awful."

"yes, thank you for that, utahime. but he's just not my type," you finish firmly, "he's loud. he's disruptive. he can't take anything seriously. i can't date that."

yuki gives you a long and knowing look, "oh, he likes you," she says lightly, as though she's telling you a casual piece of news, and not something that has you biting your tongue till iron spills, "he's been crushing on you for so long."

you feel your stomach twist uncomfortable, like little, evil goblins are dancing in your gut, "that's ridiculous," you mutter, fiddling with the clasp of your purse, "if he liked me, he would ask me out properly. and not date half the student population."

"he probably thinks it's fair, because you keep turning him down," shoko says matter-of-factly, standing up to grab her bag.

"i just don't think he's good for you. or anyone," utahime mutters, earning a pinch from you.

ACT V. stereo love

normally, gojo thrived at these parties. suguru was always able to pull a crowd that straddled the line between chic and cool, with just enough alcohol to keep things interesting. the thrum of the bass-heavy music should have been the perfect escape after a gruelling day spent staring at equations, leaving him half-convinced that his course coordinator was plotting against him and wanted him dead.

but now gojo satoru was just jittery, restless. and he hated that.

so for now, he leaned against the kitchen counter with a full cup in hand, watching people spill out of the living room and into the backyard. it seemed that other students had been aching for a party, something to take them off mid-terms and yet here he was, scowling like a storm cloud. he took another swig of his drink, ignoring how his own stomach was doing unexplained cartwheels.

"you good?"

suguru's low voice cuts through the noise, startling gojo enough that he has to tighten his fingers around his cup so sticky beer doesn't spill over pristine tiles.

gojo waves his closest friend and confidante off, "i'm fine. obviously."

suguru's frown deepens, though it's obscured by his loose, choppy dark hair. and there's skepticism painted all over his face, "you're never this quiet at any party. i thought that by now, i would have had to convince you not to jump off the roof."

"you think too little of me."

"you think too much of yourself," suguru drawls, but he's leaning against the counter beside gojo, as leather and cool metal rustle against each other, "so where's your date? or dates, i should say?"

gojo freezes, his cup halfway to his lip, "come again? what are you talkin' about?"

suguru arches a thin brow, "it's practically all over campus, man. apparently, you had several dates with lovely, young ladies lined up tonight. and i tried to defend your fragile honour, said it was too ambitious even for you. but..."

this revelation hits gojo like a punchline that he wasn't in on, and then it clicks for him. oh, he had started that rumour a few days ago. in the bookstore, to you. his brain replays the scene like a cruel, little highlight reel: the way your expression had wavered minutely, just for a moment, when he had straight up lied and claimed that he had a few dates.

truth be told, gojo had only said it to make you jealous, to see if he could ruffle you and play your game even better.

but now the joke was so clearly on him.

because gojo satoru had no dates. and you? you were here with someone who wasn't him.

suguru's following his gaze across the room, and gojo doesn't even bother to hide his petulant interest. he can see you standing near the back walls, laughing at something that naoya zenin, mayor of all things putrid, had said. naoya, with his stupid green roots and louis vuitton jacket, standing just a little bit too close to you for gojo's liking.

but before he can stew in it any linger, suguru's reaching out and pinching his ear. hard.

"ow! fuck was that for?" gojo's yelping, jerking away from his clearly evil, traitrous best friend.

"that," suguru says evenly, "was for looking like a lovesick idiot. pull yourself together, man."

"i'm not lovesick," gojo weakly protests, rubbing his bruised, throbbing ear and moving further away from suguru geto.

"you're not exactly screaming cool and collected," suguru dryly comments, "sulking like a sore loser while your crush laughs at another guy's jokes."

gojo feels his face heat up, just a little bit, because he knows that suguru's hitting close to home, "i don't sulk and do all that whiny shit. second of all, it's not my fault she went with zenin of all people. it's up to her if she wants to be stuck with someone who talks about his family's real estate portfolio as foreplay."

suguru snorts, and it's clear that he's not playing the role of sympathetic best man for life, "you know what's more obnoxious? watching you fuck around like this. you need to figure out how to ask her properly."

"i did all that!" gojo shoots back, throwing his arms up so his drink dances over the edge of the cup, "she said no. each time. you know what they call a guy who can't take a hint? she thinks i'm a loser!"

"and are you?"

gojo narrows his eyes, "am i what?"

"a loser."

"is it easier for me if i just say yes?" gojo half-heartedly gripes, "is that what you want me to say?"

"or," suguru says calmly, "you're a guy who hasn't proven he's worth saying yes to."

gojo groans, tipping his head back so he can block out the vision of his irritatingly wise best friend, "you sound like my grandmother."

"that's not even an insult. your grandmother is on some metal shit," suguru counters, unbothered, "and you sound like a twelve-year old. you can't flirt and sleaze your way through this. if you want her to take you seriously, i don't know how else to say this, you have to stop being...you."

"excuse me?"

"no. stop, don't make that face," suguru scowls, "you know what i mean. stop being a stupid flirt, and be a genuinely better person. otherwise, you're just spinning and burning out your wheels."

"did you pick up a self help book?"

suguru elbows him, sneering, "i'm trying to help you. if you don't want my help, i'm telling her you have an std."

"maybe you should just do that. end my misery," gojo downs the rest of his drink in one go, the burn of cheap beer doing nothing to ease the olympics in his alimentary canal. what's worse is that suguru is right, the bastard always is.

suguru claps him on the shoulder, "relax, satoru. you've got charm in spades. just use it...wisely."

"yeah, yeah. thanks, man," gojo mutters, brushing him off as suguru wanders away, probably to mediate some dumb argument between that big oaf, toji fushiguro and the even bigger oaf, ryomen sukuna. honestly, why were they even invited?

but gojo stays where he is, eyes flicking back to you. away from the distracting curve of your thighs in that skirt, and rather on how interested you look in naoya's stupid, animated gestures. and you look so at ease, but there's something hot and sharp twisting inside his gut.

suguru's soft, measured voice echoes in his head, "prove yourself as a person first."

oh, yeah. gojo could do that. he would absolutely do that. for you, he'd do just about anything, short of donating his vital organs (but he would definitely be considering it). but how hard could it be to be better? more mature? more grounded?

gojo satoru can handle all that. all he had to do was be a dignified, charming man. you know, someone who puts his best foot forward into the world. someone that you might actually consider taking seriously. someone calm and respectful.

if you were happy with naoya zenin, then who was he to interfere? who was he to ruin that for you? even if the guy looked like wile e. coyote when he smiled. even if naoya zenin was the most smug bastard to walk the earth.

gojo scowled at nothing in particular. but the point was that it wasn't his place to meddle. not if it meant risking your happiness. all he could do was be the best version of himself. polite, kind and above reproach. a good and respectful friend.

ACT VI. a shot of love, on the rocks.

"please, i want you so fuckin' bad."

gojo satoru is on his knees. at a party, in the middle of the living room. for you.

you feel like your mind isn't able to process all this fast enough, like your brain is on some pause. the music is still thumping in your head, but not as fast as your poor cardiac muscles as you're rendered frozen from pathetic, piercing blue eyes blinking up at you.

"please," gojo satoru repeats, and his voice vaguely warbles out like he's kinda lost his marbles and —

let's rewind.

five minutes ago, you had been standing with naoya zenin. and despite your initial reservations, you had been entertained. he's sorta witty, and definitely loaded with snarky remarks that cut through the noise of the party. it's hard not to laugh at his biting commentary, although half the time he's skewering people for fun, and the other half? just out of pure spite.

his golden eyes gleam with that edge, the kind of sharpness that makes you think of a hyena circling around its next meal. naoya is definitely full of himself, but it doesn't help that he's also ridiculously good-looking. and he knows how stunning he is, but its bothering him that you're not showering him in enough compliments for it.

still, he's here with you. he's your date. and you're doing your best to remind yourself of that. naoya is the only option you have at the moment, and he's definitely offering you more attention than anyone else tonight.

from across the room, utahime gives you an exaggerated, pained thumbs-up — while shoko shrugs in her usual blithe manner, but she gestures for you to smile more. you plaster on a wider grin, a little too obvious but naoya doesn't seem to notice.

"you know, if you're getting bored of all this, we could always find another room," naoya's low hiss slices right through the bass-thrum of the pulsing room, "do a little more than just talk."

for a moment, it's easy to imagine slipping away with him. but the sharpness in his killer-smile makes something in you bristle, like he's already envisioned you saying 'oh yes, naoya! please take me to bed!' and you shake your head, and give him an amused look.

"maybe later," you say lightly, "not now."

naoya zenin doesn't seem quite offended, but his smile grows wider as he stands up straight again, from where he had curved his tall frame into you, "i'm a patient man. fine by me, 'm gonna get some more drinks."

and you watch as his golden head of hair disappears into the crowd, leaving you all alone while the music blares around you, like a suffocating fog. you rub your temples, wondering if you should just go after naoya and tell him to go to town, something for the night's enjoyment. but before you can go any further, you hear a shout cut through the noise.

"hey!"

you whip around, blinking in surprise at gojo satoru.

but also not quite the gojo that you're used to. the one that you grew up with, and held hands with in kindergarten, one who smiled easy and laughed too loud. it seems he's ditched the oversized hoodies and varsity jackets tonight, opting for a black tee that fits him a little too well and dark cargo pants that only highlight...

you're getting distracted. but it's hard to remain focused, when he's walking towards with you. seemingly determined, as his white hair falls forward over thunderstorm-eyes. for a moment, you're not sure if you’re hearing him over the pounding music, or if it's just your own pulse making everything seem louder.

"i hate that you're here with naoya," gojo says suddenly, and his voice is low and serious, something that you've never really heard from him before.

your brow furrows, "what?"

"i lied about the dates," he continues, as words just jumble out his candy-pink mouth, "i don't have a bunch of dates. fuck, i don't even have one date. i only want to date you."

you blink, and then you blink once more, because again what?

the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you think you might have misheard the man. his blue eyes are wide and earnest, and they're staring right at you.

and before you know, he's on his knees. muscular thighs bending so his knees hit the cool tiles with a heavy thud, hands splayed out for you.

"please," he implores, "you gotta understand. i need you to feel what i feel, because it's not even a passin' thought, i swear. it's not even a stupid crush. this is like —" and he's gesturing wildly with one hand, still kneeling like a knight about to beg for his lady's favour, "this is destiny."

"gojo," you manage, "are you on drugs?"

the white-haired man, bless his sassy heart, rolls his eyes, "no. i'm on beer and vodka. will you please let me finish?"

"yes, but what are you doing?" you hiss, exasperated and sibilant, as more eyes turn to the most ravishing man on campus, who's absolutely off his rocker. and there are phones being pulled out, god help you.

"what am i doing?" gojo smiles, and it's unnervingly wide, "i'm like laying it out all here for you. my love. because that's what you are, to me. like you're everything. and i swear everyone knows this already. should i call you my sun, my moon, my entire universe? it's like time stops when i see you, a-and trust me, i do physics. i know time shit," and he must have caught at how your mouth is flapping open because he suddenly wags a finger, "no! i'm not done. i haven't even told you how the world fades, and all that's left is you glowing. like a star that i can't reach."

he's placing a hand on his broad chest, digging into the tight top clinging to his pectorals, like he's being dramatically wounded, "i have to reach you. i have to be with you."

you're not sure what parts you've processed, or what part of this slow train-wreck has settled in your head, "are you, like, actually begging right now?"

gojo's eyes flash with the intensity of a thousand suns (well, fuck — gojo's awful poeticism is rubbing off on you already). you can hear the low snickers of two men that had been beating the living daylights out of each other half an hour ago, those fuckwits that go by toji and sukuna. you can hear sukuna's deep mutters about how no-one ever would like toji enough to do this for him. and yep, you can hear them scuffle again.

"yes!" gojo booms, and more than a few heads have turned now. you wonder if naoya zenin is watching in the background, and realising that this isn't a battle he wants to pick, "i will kneel for you. like i'd do this shit for eternity, even if my knees hurt so bad right now. but as long as you give me a chance to prove my worth. and my devotion, d-don't forget that! deep as the ocean, endless and vast. and the stars align...oh, how they align for us."

"ah, satoru," you cut in, and you realise that you're now smiling. embarrassment and mild humiliation be damned, there's a quirk tugging at your lips, "you can get up now. this is a bit dramatic."

gojo blinks, not missing a beat, "i'm dramatic because i'm in love, okay? and —" he swivels his head to the crowd, grumbling, "shut up, sukuna! i heard that, i'll beat your wonky ass. you don' know shit about love."

he's turning back to you, all sticky and soothing sugar once more, "where was i? eh, my confession. well, it's all for you. and it's me, givin' you every part of me. beggin' you to see that you're the only one who can break the walls around my heart."

you think that you've completed a full speed-run on every stage of grief that there is to experience, and if the small plink! coming from someone's phone is any indication, gojo's monologue has already made it's way onto someone's private story. and so naturally, everyone will have seen it by tomorrow.

"can you get off your knees? you look ridiculous."

gojo's grin falters for a split second before he straights up, all with a hefty groan as he runs a hand through snowy strands, "ridiculous? i'm being vulnerable as hell, and you think i look stupid?"

"a little," you admit, but you're reaching a hand out to push a strand of thick hair out of his eyes. and it's maddening at how gojo seems to tremble mildly under your touch, at the brush of your fingers against his temple, "kneeling at a frat party is crazy work."

gojo sinks his teeth into a plush lower lip, "that was me trying to show how much i care, and all that sweet shit. you make me lose all my cool, and this isn't even a joke."

"you never had cool, and now you've lost your dignity too," but you're blushing, and it's a giddy feeling at how he's now close enough that you can feel his body heat.

gojo satoru's eyes twinkle, "maybe. but i'd do all that again if it won you over."

"with your future oscar nomination?"

the man shrugs, broad muscles rippling, "he who be a fool for love is far better than he who doth never dare to try at all."

"fair point," you murmur, feeling dizzy in that familiar scent of lemon candies and mint, like the world is swirling around in a heady haze, "do you wanna kiss me to seal the deal?"

"yes please. i think i'm gonna pass out and — mmph!"

you've pulled yourself up, and thrown your arms around his warm neck, drawing gojo into you. crashing your lips into his before either of you can say anything else. it's an urgent, reckless kiss. like a dam has burst and all the pent-up emotions that you've been carrying have finally exploded.

gojo's lips are soft, but demanding, taking more and more air from you. they fit against you with an ease that feels almost too natural. and his broad arms come around your waist with a force that leaves the air punched out of you. he's holding you tightly, as though he's afraid that you'll just disappear if he doesn't keep you close enough.

you can feel the heat of his body against yours, the muscles in his arms that flex as he pulls you in, deepening the kiss. all while his mouth moves against yours with a slow and deliberate intensity, as his tongue parts your lips. all so messy.

when gojo finally pulls away, the last brush of his lips catches your quiet whimper. just as his breath goes ragged, and you're left standing there, dazed, with your forehead resting against his. you can still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, that electricity that's crackling and buzzing through your veins as you giggle.

gojo, however, doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath. he tugs your wrist with a sharp, swift motion. but his grip is firm, not harsh as you pulls you away from the living room, "c'mon. let's get outta here."

shoko's eyes are wide, her jaw practically locked in disbelief, "what the hell just happened?"

utahime's lips curl, "someone took gojo's brain out and replaced it with a clone. ah! geto, what did you do?"

suguru has been standing near the kitchen counter, absolutely floored, and he's shaking his head so hard that he feels a headache forming, "hand on my heart, ladies. i told him not to pull any stunts. swear on destiny's child that i didn't tell him to do all that."

ACT VII. i bet we'd have really good bed chem!

gojo satoru has absolutely lost his mind. but you wish that he had lost it a bit earlier, because you're practically pawing at his top now. critically working to make quick work of the tight fabric, letting your fingers run over hard planes of muscles and lower.

right until you're reaching a trail of soft white hairs that disappear into the band of his pants.

"seems like you're just as desparate as me, hah," gojo snickers, and his broad hand is trailing further up your thighs, letting your skirt bunch and crinkle under his ministrations. thick fingers brush over dewy cotton, and you moan.

"s-satoru!"

"you don't even know how long i've w-wanted this," and his hand clenches at the fabric, gripping it so tightly that you fear it may just be on the verge of tearing, but you can only buck your hips into him further.

no longer even mindful of how you must be already dripping onto the palm of his hand, "and i thought you knew. i r-really thought you knew how much i wanted you."

his middle finger is gliding through your damp and searing slit, with clinging strands latching onto his skin as you muffle a whine into his chasing, teasing lips.

it's sending deep, low curls of arousal in thick waves, settling low in your groin and you don't even care what room of the house you're now in, someone's bedroom with a dark, stylish bedspread and vinyls up on the walls.

the force of his large hands drives you down onto the bed, pressing your back onto the soft mattress.

and gojo looks so pleased, at how you're splayed and sprawled out underneath his torso, his hands tugging at your now bare thighs to spread your legs even further. pulling them far enough so they come to rest on either side of his face.

"fuck, she's so pretty. even better than i imagined," and gojo's voice is husky and low, almost strained, "and believe me. imagined her plenty." the sound of drenched cotton being torn rips through the air, slippery and resistant from your arousal.

it's even stubborn as the fabric refuses to budge, until it gives way under the force of gojo's tug, soft and tearing. leaving your pussy open to the cool, cold air. bare for gojo's eyes to rest upon and widen.

his lips brush against your thigh with an uncharacteristic gentleness, one that makes your entrance clench and wink.

but gojo is nothing if not teasing, and he feels light-headed. pressing featherlight kisses to the crevice of your thigh, and then closer to your aching mound. but even he cannot hold off for much longer, and he's pressing a flat, lazy print of his tongue against your cunt.

that first munch sends a burst of tangy sweetness dancing across gojo's tongue, and he thinks he might just bust a load right then and there. the heat of your clenching cunt is almost overwhelming, but hey.

gojo's never been a quitter, and he doesn't care if he creams his pants at this very moment, he needs to hear that sweet whimper of his name from your lips again.

his lips part, blowing a quick breath on your aching clit, right as his fingers begin to press and meld into your syrupy folds. it's got you practically jumping further into him, so wet strands are clinging to the very tip of his nose. and gojo knows that this is heaven. that he's unlocked true paradise.

"satoru, c-can't you...?"

he's too busy running his tongue over your clit, drawing small circles with the very tip of the hot muscle, "can't i what, pretty? don' want me eating you out?"

and you are so adorable, pushing your head up to scowl down at him with furrowed brows, but the flush in your cheeks paints you the most beautiful shade of cherry red. and gojo vows to spend the rest of his life ensuring that this shade never leaves your cheeks.

"can't you get to the eating part? thought that you were gonna — f-fuck! hnngh, 'toru!"

he's pulling your thighs tighter around his head, and he doesn't give a fuck if this is how he goes. suffocated in this tantalising heat, with your fingers lacing themselves into woven patterns in his white hair.

he's lowering his tongue once more into your throbbing pussy, making sure that his pleased vibrations send pleasurable rumbles right through your core.

grinning and slurring his tongue further into you, right as you buck desparate hips over and over. dragging yourself against his chin, so he's sure that the lower half of his face must be glistening with your sweetness.

gojo absolutely thinks he can get used to being like this, at having you angle and force his head further into your cunt. letting you angle and toy at him and use him for your pleasure. he snaps his teeth around glossy strands of arousal, once and then twice, before delving back in.

making sure that his spare hand finds your clit to draw quick flicks and shapes over it, pushing a finger right up against the throbbing hood.

"satoru, ah, satoru! 'toru!" it's all you can even manage right now, just chants and groans of his names, as he's practically sunken your hips into the mattress, while he's on his knees for the second time this night.

"hey, none of that, yeah?" and gojo's gently tugging at your arm. trying to get you to stop muffling your whimpers and cries, because he just needs to hear your adorable sounds. and he needs to hear your bird-like cries when you come undone.

what a joy it is for gojo. to be able to dive between your legs and run his tongue between your folds. he's losing his mind at how your body trembles under his touch, and how he makes the mistake of peering up at you. your lips are parted, open and glossy. and your brows are furrowed, as lashes flutter against your cheek. you have to cum, gojo satoru needs you to cum right now.

and so, he exerts all his effort ten fold into having you finish. it's so sloppy, and so messy. gojo lets his own eyes dip shut, letting himself feel your glossy, glistening cunt pulse around his tongue. and let there be no doubt that gojo satoru is a munch, for he's eating you out in such an ardent manner, and it basically sends you barrelling towards a heart-stopping orgasm, where tears spring to the corners of your eyes.

you needn't have even tried to warn him of your impending climax, for gojo knows in the way that your legs quiver and get sloppier over his face. stars fall over your vision as you heave and toss your head back, muscles rippling as "satoru, satoru!" falls from your lips, long and drawn out as the rest of the world goes dark around you.

you gasp, struggling to inhale as the syrupy air is stolen from your lungs, all while gojo runs his tongue through your folds, head spinning with the dizzying rush of sensation. it's as if you've been swept away, hurtling towards space, weightless and disorientated.

only to crash back into reality as gojo seemingly hasn't stopped letting himself taste all of you, with not a drop of arousal wasted. your back is further pressed into the soft mattress beneath you, and the surge of overstimulated numbness follows, all pleasurable pins and needles and ferocious need.

"look at that, 'm already addicted," gojo coos, almost to himself, scooping a finger through the translucent gloss that leaks from your cunt. bringing it up to his mouth to wrap his tongue around, "think you can handle giving me another one?"

you let out a weak, breathless laugh. your gaze lingering on gojo's face, the soft moonlight that casts an ethereal glow on his features. his chin still faintly gleams, coated in your mirror-sheen and his lips are a plump, rosy red. you part your lips, propping yourself onto your elbows, but before you can form the words, the door slams open with a force that makes your ears rattle.

"i've looked in every fuckin' room in this house, and i swear to everything holy, satoru. if you chose my bedroom, i'm gonna —"

geto suguru's voice cuts off mid-rant, his words dissolving into a strangled, pained gasp as he takes in the sight before him. gojo, kneeling between your legs, wearing a ridiculously pleased grin. just like the cat who got the cream. you let out a squeak, hastily tugging your skirt over you, but it's hard to look innocent when gojo is still unabashedly pawing at your thighs.

geto pales, his jaw going slack, and he looks like he's about to collapse, "god help me. satoru, i'll kill you tomorrow," and then he shoots you both a nasty look, "and you're both paying for new sheets."

"so you and gojo are...dating now?" choso pries, with a tone that is entirely too casual but his eyes are keen. your twin is nursing a cup of coffee while he absolutely demolishes a plate of fried eggs. he had been quiet so far, but it's clear that curiosity gave out and now he's peering at you like a big owl.

you try, or do your very best not to smile too hard. to not look giddy and ridiculously pleased, "yeah, i guess we are," you admit, keeping your voice as level as possible.

choso blinks once, before setting his fork down and shaking his head, "i knew it. it was only a matter of time," he mutters, and without further ado, he resumes shovelling eggs into his mouth, utterly unfazed.

before you can respond, sukuna appears in the doorway, leaning lazily against the frame, his tattooed arms crossed and his expression dripping with disdainful amusement, "oh, i was there," he drawls, sharp fangs flashing in a wicked grin, "that loser pulled the dumbest, most dramatic stunt of all time. got on his knees and everything."

choso freezes mid-chew, raising a thick brow as he glances at the older man with mild interest, "wish i'd seen that," he mumbles through a mouthful of toast.

to your utter astonishment, sukuna nods gravely, his face taking on an uncharacteristically serious look, "yeah. i've got a video if you wanna watch."

your jaw drops as you glance between them, "this is officially the first time that i've ever seen you two agree on anything," setting your mug down with a thud, "if i had known that dating gojo would bring about world peace, i would have done it ages ago and —"

yuuji bounds into the kitchen like an overeager puppy, his blush-pink hair still a mess from interrupted sleep. but he's clapping his hands together like he's just won the lottery, "finally! look at that! everyone's getting along for once."

sukuna doesn't even bother to hide his irritation, shooting yuuji a withering glare. but it's hard to take him seriously when his own pink hair rivals yuuji's in sheer disarray, "don't push it," sukuna warns darkly, grabbing a glass of orange juice and downing it in one morose gulp. he slams the empty, cold glass on the counter before stalking off towards the door, "i'm seriously gonna move out at this rate."

"promise?" choso quips, without missing a bit, "wish you'd stop getting our hopes up and actually do it."

yuuji is undeterred, and he elbows you with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, "you have to invite gojo over all the time now. i like him a lot. he's like super cool."

"of course," you grin, sliding a plate towards him as he eagerly digs in.

and your younger brother beams like the sun itself. right as a mocking, high-pitched voice floats from the other room, "and then we're all gonna be lovesick, and skip around town while holding hands!" right before falling back into sukuna's usual gruff tone that echoes through the kitchen, "god, you're all so insufferable."

your phone buzzes on the table, and you glance down. gojo's contact photo lights up the screen. it's a snapshot from a year or two ago, taken the summer that you both graduated high school. he's standing at the edge of the beach, with the sun dipping low enough behind to catch his white hair. turning it into a halo of glowing light. it's a photo that you never had the heart to change.

satoru 🪐

good morning princess!! my one and only!!!! my sugar plum (too much? i can tone it down but you just can't put a lid on love) hope you dreamed of me 🙂‍↔️ so what are you doing today because i've got abt eight possible things we can cover today starting with [read more.]

"ugh, gross."

sukuna's disdainful drawl cuts through behind you, as an icy finger prods at your phone, trying to scroll up and snoop through your messages. you freeze and slam your phone down on the table. whirling around to come face to face with the world's most judgemental gargoyle sneers at you, "i think i'm gonna throw up."

"get a life, holy fuck."

[ladadiida]

𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.

or,

you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, heavy (kind of) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 HERE IT IS! the response to the sneak peek was crazy, and so i rushed to get this done. i only watched the live action so beware of minor mistakes if you ever saw one. english is also not my first language and you are welcome to correct me anytime for any grammatical errors. title is a lyric from the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody. this fic is also posted in ao3 with its full summary and WITH A BONUS CHAPTER. enjoy reading!

𝐰𝐜 11.3k

"There you are."

Your soapy, wet hands almost dropped the ceramic plate you were currently washing in the dirty kitchen sink as soon as you heard a familiar smooth and honeyed voice. Abruptly turning off the sink so that the sound of his approaching footsteps were clear to your ears, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before turning your body towards him.

He was carrying a stack of plates, a fresh batch to add to the pile you had to wash, with an obnoxious yet handsome smile plastered on his lips. You took a deep breath to calm the growing irritation at the bottom of your stomach, reminding yourself that this was your job and you only had a couple of hours to endure until you're free to lock yourself up in your bedroom. You were particularly looking forward to writing today, and the thought of finishing the lyrics to your new song tonight slightly eased your mood. Accepting your fate, you pointed to the remaining space beside the sink.

"Place it there." You told him, albeit begrudgingly as you turn on the sink again and pour more soap on the battered sponge.

You took a mental note to ask Zeff later about buying new sponges, and if you were lucky to catch him in a good mood, you'll put in a request to get the sink fixed and cleaned. Your eyes scanned over the grime and rust around the area. If you were going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes, then you might as well get a proper kitchen sink to do so.

An amused laugh fell out of the golden haired man you grew up with, surprised at your compliance to do the job you hated. The sound nearly sent your poor heart into a dizzying whirlwind of little nuisances called emotions. "What a hardworking woman."

"I could say the same to you. It seems like you have a new record today." You said while you splashed dirtied bowls with soap water, smiling at him teasingly, "Thought you would've been kicked out of the line by now."

"The old man just can't help but to accept the fact that I am a greater cook than him." He smirked, wiping a knife with a dish cloth. Trying not to roll your eyes, you shook your head at his usual display of arrogance, yet you can't help but to grin as you began to hear scratching sounds against the floors.

"Then you better get those chopped carrots ready." You replied, and when you got to finish your sentence, the doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing the head chef.

Zeff's cold and steely eyes immediately landed on the blond. He walked towards him with a fast pace despite only having one leg, his braided mustache bouncing in each step.

"Aye, aye, aye. Why haven't you started on the carrots yet, little eggplant? Can you get any slower?" He scolded, loud enough for the whole staff to hear, but none of them even flinched. You returned back to your plates and glasses, smiling softly. This was part of your routine everyday: to listen in their silly arguments.

However, before the younger chef can reply, you butted in, "Sanji fetched some of the plates for me. Since there's a lunch rush, I couldn't leave the kitchen."

Zeff let out a low hum. You couldn't even see Sanji's face, but you knew him well enough to know that he was smiling triumphantly, knowing that he won this time. After a few minutes of contemplating, the head chef clicked his tongue. "Don't defend him, little lass. But I'll let it slip this time. What are you waiting for, then? Start cutting them!"

"Yes, chef." Sanji answered in a jovial manner, placing the carrots on a chopping board.

Twisting the faucet lever so that the water flow from the sink is gentle and quiet, you then paid attention to their little banters every now and then. You brought up a wine glass and positioned it by your side to try to get a glimpse of the two most important men in your life. Through their reflection on the glass, you can see Zeff hunching over Sanji's knifework, nodding every time the vegetables were correctly sliced.

On the other hand, Sanji was unbothered by the head chef's observations and continued to cut the ingredients calmly. Some of the strands in his hair fell down on one side of his face, covering an eye, and most people would think that it was an unusual way of styling hair; yet it was one thing out of many that you loved the most about him.

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite desert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

Today was the day, and you won't allow anyone to ruin it for you.

You had saved enough Berries to travel around the world and sustain yourself for the upcoming months. Your notebook containing the lyrics of the songs you wrote laid open on top of your bed as you spent all night revising them while planning out an itinerary. Then you'll find a place to settle in, a stable job that required doing what you loved the most, and overall just be peaceful and free from pirates and chefs and pirate chefs. It was perfect.

Folded clothes surrounded you everywhere, ready to be packed in your bags. Once you finished stuffing them all in, you grabbed your treasured instrument, the one thing you couldn't live without: your guitar, which has been with you since you were a little child. It was given by your mother and you've been attached to it ever since.

It has scratches all over its wooden surface, and the strings needed some fixing occassionally, but you wouldn't trade it for the greatest treasures in the world. You ran your fingers over it, suddenly feeling like it was lacking something. Seeing the paint chipping off at the corners, you figured that it needed a little color.  You'll need lacquer, and paint if you managed to find some.

You set the guitar aside and left your bedroom to head downstairs to the kitchen. As you were about to push the doors open, a loud, angry shout made you stop in your tracks.

"I won't ever become a pathetic waiter for you!" Sanji's thunderous yells can be heard from outside. Your shoulders tensed up. It was a good thing that brunch was over and all the customers had left.

Zeff's own furious voice followed, "Leave then, for all I care! You can do anything you want, but don't you ever serve one of your shit dishes in my kitchen!"

A frown settled on your face. Their fights were a normal occurrence to you, but this one sounded more grave than usual. Crossing your arms, you stepped in closer to the entrance and hesitated whether you should go in or not. Before you could make a decision, Zeff beat you to it by pushing the doors open, rage emanating from his figure as he ignored and walked past you.

Without hesitation this time, you entered the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Sanji bowing over the counter, breathing heavily, his face covered with his hair. He didn't move an inch even as you approached him, the clacking of the heels in your boots echoing throughout the room.

Both of you were silent as you rummaged through cabinets, trying to find lacquer to cover your guitar with, while he tried his best to calm himself down after his outburst. Many cupboards later, you finally found a small can of used up lacquer, but as you started to reach for it, your hand completely stopped mid-air.

You looked over your shoulder, and found Sanji already recovered from the argument seeing that he was on the move again, preparing a cut of beef tenderloin and other ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner.

Slowly, you closed the cupboard and went closer to him. He still refused to look at you. And so you watched him place a bag of flour on the countertop, slices of cold butter, and a variety of spice bottles to season the meat with.

Sanji began to wrap twine around the beef tenderloin. You sighed, and before you could stop yourself, you grabbed a bowl and decided to help him. Your guitar can wait.

It was rare for you to cook inside the kitchen, having so little knowledge about food and how they were prepared, but you knew this recipe well. You poured two cups of flour through the sifter, followed by placing heaps of the cold butter in the mixture.

The moment you started to mix the dough for the puff pastry, Sanji quickly pointed out in a monotone voice, "You're adding too much butter."

You raised your head and glanced at him, his attention now on the meat he was searing on a skillet. You smiled, glad that he was speaking again.

"You're beginning to sound like the old man himself." You joked lightly.

His jaw clenched. "Don't compare me to that shitty geezer."

In a softer voice, you asked, "What happened?"

"The usual." He replied curtly. "Didn't approve of my dishes."

You perked up upon hearing about a dish he made himself. Sanji was talented when it comes to creating his own recipes, and sometimes, you would be the person he chooses to test them out. Every time he lets you taste them, your chest would feel warm and you wouldn't be able to sleep for days because you'll keep replaying it in your head. "What did you make this time?"

"It doesn't matter. He'll never agree to any of them."

"Maybe I can—"

"Drop it. Don't poke your nose in things you're not involved." Sanji cut you off, his hardened gaze meeting your concerned stare. You only blinked at him, straightening up.

"I see." You muttered, eyes landing on the bag of flour. You looked at him, then at the flour, then back at him. A smile began to form on your lips as a devious plan formulated itself in your brain. Sticking your hand inside the bag of flour, you took a fistful of the pillowy powder and threw it straight into his face.

Sanji jumped back, flinching and closing his eyes when some of the flour's particles managed to enter them. His jaw dropped open in surprise, hands quickly removing themselves from the skillet's handle to dust off the flour that rested on his now white hair. You tried to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle getting the flour out.

Once he managed to clean himself, he stared straight at you and said in the calmest way possible, even if you knew deep inside that he was fuming, "What was that for?"

A high-pitched snort left your mouth. You covered it to prevent yourself from laughing.

You cleared your throat and smiled at him innocently. "Am I involved now?"

His piercing blue eyes then started to sparkle with mirth, amusement replacing the vexation previously swimming in them. He also looked to be trying to push down a smile, and that made your heart skip a beat. "You're insufferable."

He reached for the bag of flour. You squeaked and took off running, trying to escape from his attack, but he still managed to throw a small amount on you. Giggling, you ran the opposite direction to confuse him, and yet he caught up with you, throwing another round of flour. This time, it hit your cheeks, making you laugh loudly. He laughed along, pointing a finger at you because you probably looked crazy at the moment.

You tried to take the bag of flour away from him, but he just took it an as opportunity to catch your arm and grip it firmly. He pulled you into his chest, caging you completely.

With your cheeks warm and your breaths short, you tilted your head up and looked at him, noticing the way that you were both covered in flour; and not only that, you also noticed the short distance between your bodies and how your noses were almost touching. His pupils were dilated, black dominating the alluring blue shade that kept haunting your dreams. You drank in the attention he was giving you, the breathing coming out from his soft lips, and the comfortable silence that wrapped around the both of you like a safe little bubble.

"Caught you." Sanji muttered, voice deeper and huskier, making you let out a quiet sigh. His arms snaked around your waist as he leaned in closer. A million questions started to run inside your head, begging to know what this situation was and how you got into it. "Nowhere to run now, darling."

A slamming of doors shattered the secret moment you shared, and you immediately pulled away from each other. You pushed down your disappointment and hid it in the secret crevice in your heart as the two of you faced your intruder.

Zeff observed your flour-laden figures, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. He then demanded, voice seething and dripping with anger, "What in the hell are you two little brats doing?"

Sanji blurted out in defense, "Zeff, we—she was the one who started it!"

"And you went along with it!" You accused incredulously, grinning from ear-to-ear. Sanji grinned back, shaking his head and biting his lower lip.

"Oh, shut up before I stitch your mouths! Just by looking at you two, I already know that you snot-nosed shits are both at fault!" Zeff shouted, clicking his tongue at the sight of the half emptied flour. "Wasted them good flour for your childish fights. You're even worse than fatwits. Get out and clean the toilets!"

"Not the shitty toilets!" Sanji groaned, and you couldn't blame him for it. The bathroom area smelled revolting and the floors were always wet for some reason.

"I don't wanna hear complaints from you when you've dirtied my kitchen! Off you go!" Zeff dismissed, and you can't help but to laugh again when you saw Sanji pout like a little kid.

The head chef watched the two of you leave the kitchen together while giggling and exchanging fond looks. Patty, who also saw the whole situation unfold, suddenly appeared beside him, snickering, "I can already hear the wedding bells ringing."

Zeff took a deep, tired breath.

"Oh, they're ringing alright."

You cleaned and scrubbed the toilets the entire afternoon with the man you're in love with, flushing your plans down the drain and forgetting all about them, and that was the second time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

You didn't know how you ended up in a ship full of pirates.

Well, maybe you knew. A little. But it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tight you were clenching them. A mix of emotions swirled around in your chest, namely confusion, impatience, and hesitation, pondering about whether you should be irritated at yourself or at Sanji.

The opportunity was there, handed to you like a steak on a golden platter, or a miracle that suddenly fell from the sky. The day you met Luffy and his strange pirate crew was the day you immediately realized that he was the key to your exit from the Baratie. He was friendly; a good pirate, according to his own words, so you figured he would allow you to tag along for a while until you find an island to get off to. You just had to ask for his permission and wait for his reply.

Luffy agreed. And you were ecstatic. You were finally going to leave Sanji Vinsmoke and your pathetic, unrequited feelings behind.

Or so you thought.

You watched in horror as he followed you when you boarded the Going Merry, also carrying a bag of his own. He said something along the lines of Luffy needing a cook for the journey to the Grand Line but you couldn't care less. You got here first. Why was he here?

So here you were, sitting in a corner, lonelier than ever and regretting your life decisions. You watched Luffy and his friends celebrate after defeating the pirate Arlong and saving Coco Village from his inhuman hold over its people, but Sanji and the beautiful orange haired Nami were nowhere in sight.

The thought of them being gone together at the same time left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.

Nami. The first time you laid eyes on her, ethereal was the word that came up to your mind. With soft deep saffron locks that framed her small face and a wide blue eyed gaze, she would have the cruelest of men begging for mercy and affection at her feet.

Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.

Fuck, you cursed mentally, rubbing your face with your hands to try and forget about the times he flirted with her and the moments he wouldn't stop talking about her or kept asking about her favorite food or dessert or if she's into blonds. Your already battered heart doesn't need the usual reminder that he'll never see you that way, that you weren't going to experience his sweet words and his loving gazes.

You took a sharp breath. It's okay, you tell yourself over and over again until they were buried in your heart. They'll make a great pair, Sanji the cook and Nami the thief. A strong man with an equally strong woman. Yes. That makes sense.

You'll leave soon anyway, and you'll no longer have to worry about seeing them or how they were going to end up together.

And yet you can't help but to think about the things that could've been if you were the one he was in love with instead.

You were crossing your arms and hugging yourself as the crisp afternoon air was getting chilly when a hand gripping a shot glass filled with amber liquid appeared in front of you. Looking up, you saw Luffy smiling widely at you, waving the glass encouragingly.

"Come on, just one drink! Usopp poured this for you!" The captain exclaimed heartily, obviously trying to uplift your spirits and to make you feel welcomed in his crew, even though you did nothing but to guard the Going Merry while they were fighting for their lives.

You shook your head and smiled politely. "No, I don't drink. Sorry."

Luffy's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He nodded, setting the glass down on top of a barrel. "Well, okay." He said, then turned to Usopp, who was currently downing a whole bottle of whiskey. "Hey, where's Nami?"

"Oh, she's with the cook," Usopp replied cheekily, wiping his mouth after drinking. There was a teasing tone in his voice as he continued, "Someone's getting a boyfriend tonight!"

With that said, you reached for the shot glass that Luffy was offering you earlier, grabbed it swiftly, and poured the whole thing down your throat. The whiskey tasted unfamiliar, and it burned and made you dizzy at first taste, but it doesn't matter; as long as it can make you forget just for a little while, you were willing to drink more of the horrible beverage.

Zoro, the green haired swordsman and the captain's first mate, stared at you as if you had lost your mind, but a tinge of concern was visibly written on his face. "Woah, slow down." He warned sternly.

"I thought you didn't drink." Was all Luffy said, blinking in confusion. You chuckled tiredly.

"Now I do."

Drink after drink, glass after glass. You lost count on how many times Usopp poured whiskey for you, or how many times Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Luffy was the same old happy-go-lucky captain throughout the disaster that was starting to brew inside you, turning your brain into mush. You can barely lift your head or your fingers as you asked for another shot in an incoherent voice. Luckily, Usopp was still able to understand you, tipping the whiskey bottle yet again towards your glass.

You started to raise the glass to your lips, eager to just get severely drunk and be over with it already. However, you suddenly felt strong fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from drinking; and when you caught sight of a familiar silver ring with Baratie's jolly roger inlaid upon it, you didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Sanji's voice was unnervingly calm as he questioned the crew, but the slight shake in his words lets you know otherwise. "Which one of you allowed her to drink?"

"No one. She took the glass and made the decision herself." Zoro drawled, challenging the chef, "The last time I checked, waiter, you were supposed to be the one responsible for her."

Sanji ignored him and turned his attention to you. He stole the shot glass away from you, then kneeled and held your hands comfortingly, smiling. "Come on, ange. It's time for you to rest now." He said quietly, yet loud enough for only you to hear.

You stubbornly shook your head repeatedly and whined loudly. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, prying your hands away from his, "I don't like you...!"

Zoro huffed in amusement at your declaration. Sanji glared at him for a short second before looking at you again. This time, he stood and gently placed his arms under your shoulders to raise you up. Once you were standing on your feet, he swept you up and carried you bridal style with ease. Another whine escaped your lips.

"Put me down! I want another drink, please, just one more!" You pleaded while throwing weak punches on his chest. Sanji only smiled and began to lead you towards the sleeping quarters. You continued to thrash in his arms as he walked slowly and in small steps so he wouldn't drop you.

Sanji carefully set you down on your hammock. "No drinks for you until you actually learn how to take them." He told you, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek and rubbed it in circles, noting how fast you were heating up due to the alcohol. You pouted.

"Pretty please, Sanji...please..."

He chuckled, staring at you intensely. "Maybe some other time, ange."

You went quiet, staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. Then, you crossed your arms like a child and asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

Sanji raised a brow. "Call you what? Ange?"

You nodded. "I don't like it."

He began to smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing. You briefly wondered if he'd allow you to poke and feel them. "Why?"

"I don't know what it means. Is it an insult?" You wondered aloud, your eyes widening in curiosity.

A hearty and warm laugh came out from Sanji, his eyes forming half-moons as he cackled at your words like they were the biggest joke he heard in his entire life, "Oh, my dear girl, how could I possibly insult you?" He managed to speak between laughs, "It means angel. You're an angel, to me at least. My angel."

Oh.

Your lips parted in surprise. Blinking, you simply said, "You're not Sanji."

He's not Sanji. He wouldn't call you angel; you're not even sure if he found you beautiful or attractive. You wear the same old tattered dresses that Zeff bought for you a long time ago, and you didn't even bother to style your hair or put on face powder like all the other beautiful ladies do. You look nowhere near to an angel.

But Sanji only grinned. "I assure you, I am very much Sanji. The little brat who pulled your hair when we were barely eleven years old."

Your breath hitched at the thought of him remembering one of your fond memories in your childhood. "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered." He whispered, cupping your cheek one last time before he got ready to leave. He turned on his heel and was about to walk away when you spoke.

"Are you going to see her again?" You asked, and he quickly noticed how broken your voice sounded. Sanji faced you in concern and was taken aback with how deep you were frowning. He figured that you were just drunk and women tend to be different when they were intoxicated. You were no exception to that, it seemed.

"Hm?" He hummed, prompting you to elaborate further.

Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You shakily mumbled, "Nami...you're going to Nami, aren't you?"

Sanji froze, an icy cold rush filling up his body. A knot formed in his throat, and it continued to tighten the longer he stared at your face. You looked so hurt—like he just destroyed your beloved guitar into pieces. Your lower lips were trembling, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he couldn't find the courage to answer you, feeling like he could die at any second now if he answers your question.

But the answer was simple.

"Yes." He breathed out, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.

And it only became worse when a teardrop finally rolled down your cheek. "Why?" You rasped, and Sanji didn't know that a single word can hurt this much.

He tried to give you a reassuring smile but awfully failed to do so. He started to explain, "We were just discussing something—"

"Why not me?"

Those three words coming out of your mouth felt like a final blow to his heart. He can feel himself bleed, drained of life and soul because of you and your words alone, and he let you. He let you kill him, he let you make him swim in his own guilt and he doesn't why, why, why.

More tears fell out of your angelic eyes, staining your cheeks with wet trails, and he tried to hold himself back from wiping them off. You choked out, "Why not me, Sanji? I have been asking myself that question for the past decade, and it eats my brain every night like some kind of plague, but I let it anyway. Because why? Why can't you just recognize me and appreciate me and see me? Why can't you go to me if you want to talk about your dreams, or what dish you're planning to create? Why do you have to seek solace in other women when you have me standing by your side everyday, me who is willing to listen to you and whatever you have to say?"

Angry, red rimmed eyes glared at him. Your hair strands stuck to your skin and framed your face as sweat began to form on your forehead. Teardrops clung to your wet eyelashes and your face was drenched like you just took a swim in the ocean. You were burning with fury and rage and want, struggling to breathe properly after your little rant, and Sanji thought you couldn't be more beautiful. You were so beautiful.

"Oh but I couldn't blame you for that. She's just so beautiful, so perfect, and so strong. She could give you anything you wanted and she could be anything that I never was." You hiccuped, smiling forcibly, "But in the end...I will still love you. I will always love you. I think."

You scooted closer to him, leaning in until your faces only had a few inches apart between them. You didn't notice how his lips were slightly parted in shock, nor his eyes that were starting to glisten with his own tears. "No matter where I flee to, or where I lay my heart on, or which skies I look at—it's always you, Sanji. It's always been you."

"I had been so selfless all these years, Sanji. So please, can you pretend to like me too, just for today, before I leave?" You whispered meekly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. Numb and completely speechless, Sanji simply gave you a single nod as a response.

You gingerly pressed your lips against his, and he immediately tasted the saltiness of your tears. But your lips were soft, as he expected from an angel like you. And so he couldn't help himself; he closed his eyes and delicately kissed you back, repeating your name in his mind like a sacred prayer and wishing to the stars above to not let the moment end.

However, you broke the kiss by losing consciousness and falling down on your hammock, knocked out and peacefully snoring.

Sanji spaced out, not moving from his position. No. It's not that he didn't want to move—he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything except for the drumming of his heart, knocking on his chest desperately. His lips were still tingling and his ears and neck were warming up.

He gulped, loosening the collar of his shirt to cool himself down. He needed a cigarette. And a drink.

Scrambling to get up even with his trembling legs, Sanji managed to stand properly. He avoided your sleeping figure and decided to get out of the room as soon as possible. However, when he took a step forward, his foot touched a notebook lying on the floor.

Sanji bent down and took the notebook. He flipped it open, and after reading only the first page, he finally came into a conclusion.

Heartbroken, drunk, and unaware, you dozed off the rest of the afternoon. When nightfall settled on the azure horizon and dusk fell on the rough surface of the sea, you missed the chance to walk away from the crew yet again; and that was the third time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

The next morning, you woke up feeling much better with only the memory of you drinking and crying yourself to sleep and nothing else. Everything was normal, and the crew began to make plans for their next adventure during breakfast.

Everything was normal, except for Sanji, who was quiet throughout the whole discussion. And of course, just like always, you were the only one who noticed his strange behavior. You tried to catch his eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you.

When he finally met your gaze, you gave him a soft smile, hoping he would smile back and everything was fine and you were just overthinking it.

He doesn't.

⸻ • ⸻

"Are you really going to leave?"

Taking your gaze away from the heart shaped cloud you spotted on the clear blue sky, you faced the person who asked the question you were dreading for some time now. Luffy was staring curiously at you, awaiting your answer. You can't help but to smile softly at the captain, whose kindness you have yet to repay.

"I believe we already talked about this, captain." You said, recalling your short conversation last night. He kept asking you if you were really sure about your decision while his eyes darted to a certain blond haired chef every time he shoots you the question. It was strange, and you felt even more suspicious when Sanji pretended not to hear your answer and even refused to glance your way.

Luffy put his hands on his hips. "You know, you're welcome to stay and be a part of my crew."

You crossed your arms, smile growing wide. "And what, pray tell, is my role? Sing battle songs and chant your names while you swing your gummy arms at pirates?" You joked playfully.

The young captain stroked his chin in deep thought, almost like he was considering your suggestion. "That's not a bad idea."

You bursted out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief, "I'll leave first thing in the morning. I told Nami to dock at a nearby island."

"What about Sanji?" He suddenly questioned, leaving you flabbergasted for a split second. You weren't prepared to hear Sanji's name after days of not talking to him properly.

Him not speaking with you wasn't a strange occurence at all; back when you were still in the Baratie, there would be days when Sanji wouldn't bother to acknowledge your presence and would completely ignore you. This would happen whenever he was extremely busy with his cooking or he had a disagreement with Zeff.

And it seemed like this was one of those days, seeing that he had been ignoring you for about a week now. Yes, you have been keeping count. Although he doesn't appear to be angry with you, the short-lived exchanges and the abrupt cut-offs before you could say anything deeply concerned you more than it should have.

You tried to rack your brains for reasons on why he was acting like this. Maybe Nami had rejected him for the hundredth time, or Zoro kept throwing insults in his direction—or maybe his cigarette packet had ran out. Maybe his kitchen knives weren't sharp anymore and he was struggling in the kitchen.

Should you ask him? Should you go to him and demand him to tell you what's wrong?

You pressed your lips together. It sounded like the worst idea you've thought of so far. You convinced yourself that Sanji was fine and he'd be back to normal in no time; there would no need to talk to him.

"What about him?" You faltered, chuckling to ease the tension in your body.

"You care for each other." Luffy explained bluntly and matter-of-factly, "What does he think about you leaving?"

A shaky sigh made its way out of your lips. How will you tell the captain that his cook has been avoiding you like you were some kind of rotten fish these days?

"I..." You stammered, gathering the courage to lie to Luffy even if you thought it would be the gravest sin you could commit, "He...agrees. Yeah. No need to worry."

Luffy grinned, but it didn't look normal at all. You winced in embarrassment. He knew that you were lying and was totally unconvinced.

Luckily, he didn't voice it out. He only nodded and said, "Great! Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you sing for us before we part ways? Think of it as a farewell party for the crew."

Hearing the pure and genuine excitement dripping from his voice, you couldn't turn him down. It was a good idea too, and now that you thought about it, you haven't performed for them yet. "Sure." You agreed, shrugging.

He raised his fist up in the air and cheered. You smiled, watching as he shouted for his crewmates' names to come down and listen to you sing. You prepared yourself for an impromptu performance, making sure that your guitar was properly tuned and your voice was clear enough to give you the best version of your singing. Sitting on top of a barrel, you faced your audience of four, all their eager eyes watching your every move.

As you struck the first chord to your song, you tried hard not to think that Sanji wasn't there to watch you sing the song you secretly dedicate to him.

In the kitchen, Sanji busied himself by plating the food that he'll serve to his fellow crew mates for dinner. He grabbed a large plate and placed the chicken drumsticks that his captain favored, but Luffy wasn't the one in his mind when he cooked those. Looking at the food, he wondered if you would love them too.

He shook his thoughts off and took the plate with him outside. Approaching the crew, his steps slowed down when he heard a familiar singing voice and a melodic tune of a guitar.

Sanji almost dropped the plate.

It was you. Of course it was you, you were the only one he knew who had a voice like that. It was you, and you were singing with a lovely smile painted on your sweet lips, the very same lips that touched his a few days ago, resulting in him not getting a wink of sleep every night. The beam of the sunset right behind you colored your hair in the different shades of the sky as the dulcet-filled notes you made echoed throughout the vast sea. For a moment, he was worried that you were going to attract ferocious sea beasts with your angelic voice and steal you away from him.

He could hear his blood pound in his ears the longer he observed you from afar. You looked happy. Happier than you were when you stayed with him and Zeff. His chest tightened, knowing that you leaving and go on adventures on your own was probably the best decision you could make, even if that means leaving him too.

You were finishing up your song by the time you saw Sanji standing behind Usopp, silently listening. He met your gaze, and for the first time ever, you couldn't read his mind. His expression was blank as you stared at each other, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he cut you off.

"Dinner's ready." Sanji announced shortly, setting down the plate in front of Luffy and then walked away without saying another word.

That was your final straw. You immediately put down your guitar and followed him into the kitchen. You didn't care about how you felt Nami's watchful eyes on you as you went after him, nor how Luffy was scarfing down the dinner and was definitely going to finish it all before you could take a bite; you just chased the blond with determination oozing out of you.

You roughly pushed the door open and found Sanji washing the pans he used for cooking. He glanced at you briefly then quickly looked away after. This irritated you even more as you demanded, "Is there something bothering you?"

"You should eat before the food gets cold." He said with an empty voice.

"Sanji!"

He stiffened. You rarely raised your voice at anyone. Sighing in defeat, he dried off his hands and fully faced you.

Your eyes were sharper than his knives, cutting straight into his soul. "I've known you for a long time now, do you think I don't notice whenever you have a problem?" You glowered, taking a step closer to him, "You have a problem. What is it?"

It happened fast. His hand landed on the small of your back and pulled you to his chest, and the other was placed on top of your cheek, and in a single motion, Sanji captured your lips with his. You gasped in the kiss, your heart dropping to the soles of your feet when he tilted his face to deepen it. Your fingers tightly grasped the sleeves of his shirt for support as he passionately moved his lips against yours. A pleasant heat ran down your spine, your whole body tingling and warming up. You were simply drowning. There was no other way to describe it, and it was only caused by his fervent kisses.

Sanji pulled away, resting your forehead on top of yours, and you took it as an opportunity to breathe in air that you lost. "You are the problem." He murmured lowly, eyes darting down to your swollen lips. Confused and lightheaded, you didn't get the chance to retort.

"Ever since that night, ange, you occupy my thoughts. You gave me a taste of your lips and you didn't even remember the next day. Do you know how that feels, hm?" He said, pecking your lips once again. You made a noise in the back of your throat, turning your head sideways so he couldn't kiss you anymore, but he took your chin and hungrily connected both of your lips.

He spoke between kisses, "You torture me. Ever since I read those songs you wrote about me in that little notebook of yours, you torture me with your presence."

That was when you snapped out of your daze. With all the force you could muster, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Sanji stepped back, surprised at your reaction.

Without giving him a chance to ask you anything, you ran off and left the kitchen, slamming the door loudly so you wouldn't hear him calling your name and be tempted to go back in his arms again.

You arrived in the sleeping quarters, locking the door behind you. You were sure that the others would understand you needing your alone time. Once you made sure you were on your own, your body collapsed altogether, your back sliding down against the door as you panted heavily.

He knows, was all you could think about. He knows about the songs. He knows about your feelings.

Well, you finally got your answer to your previous question, but a more complicated one replaced it. With trembling hands, your fingers raised themselves to your lips, touching its surface. You hated the way that you still felt his warmth on top of them.

A lone tear slid down the side of your nose. He was cruel. Sanji was cruel.

You didn't come out of that room for days, refusing to talk to anyone as you gathered your scrambled throughts and pulled yourself back together, and that was the fourth time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

A stack of books, most of them being a collection of maps compiled in one, rested beside you while you flipped through the pages of the one you chose among them.

Nami has been lending you her books ever since you shut yourself out from the crew. You ignored all of them and only let Nami in, hoping that she'll be able to understand you; and she did. She was a good listener. Although you weren't particularly close with each other, you trusted her and told her everything: your dreams, your problems, your feelings, and Sanji. In return, she confided in you too.

"Here. So you can finally decide on where you will go to," You recall her saying while she handed you her collection of world map books, "and to distract yourself, of course."

"You're too kind, Nami." You said in admiration. Maybe this is why Sanji was enamored with her. She was a beauty inside and out.

Nami shrugged, yet she was smiling. "Just helping a fellow woman out."

The books did take your mind off the stubborn blond haired man that was still resting inside your heart, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You tried to search for islands that will be suitable for you to start your career, narrowing some of them down into choices, but your eyes wil always lead back to where the Baratie was stationed.

You leaned back against your chair, letting your head hit the wall with a soft thud as you released a sigh of frustration. Not only will you need to prepare yourself for a journey all alone, but you also have to talk to Sanji sooner or later, whether you like it or not. The kiss distracted you more than the books Nami gave you. You think of it in the morning and dream of it at night, and it only got worse every time you remembered that he kissed you like he loved you.

Relaxing in your seat, you closed the book and listened to the silence.

The Going Merry docked for a quick trip to a market to gather fresh ingredients for food. Sanji will be gone for the meantime and you were free to roam around the ship without his heated stare boring holes in your skin.

But the peace was ruined by rushed footsteps and Usopp breaking into the room, almost destroying the door with his brute force. You frowned, standing up on alert when you saw how nervous he looked.

"Sanji's injured!" He exclaimed, which got your brow raising, knowing that he had a long history of lying to people. However, he forcibly pulled Sanji inside, and you were greeted by the sight of a bruised man, whose lips were bleeding and cheeks were starting to yellow.

You immediately sprang into action. You took the first aid kit you packed in your bag and grabbed his arm, making him sit down on your chair.

"How did you get into a fight in just a span of ten minutes?" You asked in irritation, wetting a cloth with saltwater to wipe off the blood on his lips.

Sanji grunted, tensing up when you took a hold of his face and dabbed on his lip using the cloth. "Some petty vendor was selling overpriced onions, and they weren't even the best of quality."

You stopped for a minute, glaring at him. "So you decided to punch them instead of talking it over?"

He only huffed in reply. Pursing your lips in annoyance, you continued to treat his wounds in silence, noticing him flinching and wincing in pain whenever you compress the bruised area with ice. "Who's being petty now?" You scolded impatiently, "Stay still."

The only sound that filled the room was you hastily rummaging your kit trying to find an ointment and an awkward silence that made you want to jump into the sea and never swim back to the surface. You unscrewed the lid of the jar of ointment and scooped some with your finger, looking at Sanji as you did so. He looked back at you quietly, and you tried hard not to think about the fact that you have to touch his lips in order for you to apply it.

It seemed like he realized that too, glancing down at the dollop of ointment on top of your finger, then back to you. You just gave him a small, uneasy smile, showing him that you weren't uncomfortable even though you were, and shyly took a step forward.

As gently as you could, you spread the ointment on the wounded area on his lips, reminding yourself to not be distracted on how soft they looked.

"A busted lip because of overpriced ingredients...it almost feels like you're doing this on purpose so I wouldn't get the chance to leave you." You half-heartedly joked to lighten up the atmosphere. However, you were greeted by nothing, not even a smart comeback or a funny joke from the blond. You hesitantly observed his reaction, and saw that he was grim and serious, guilt swimming in his beryl blue eyes.

The realization began to sink in.

Oh.

You should've known from the start. Sanji was a great fighter; he wouldn't be injured in the first place. "Sanji..."

Sanji took your wrist and held on it tightly. Your breath hitched, only then realizing how much you missed his touch, his warm, gentle, and loving touch.

"Let me go." You weakly said, even though deep down, you didn't want him to.

"Tell me you're not in love with me." He said, sounding utterly desperate that it almost made you fall down to your knees, "Tell me, and I'll let you go."

When you didn't answer, he stood up and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands. He pleaded, "Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."

"Please don't do this." You whispered in pain as you tearfully shook your head.

"Stay. Please, stay." Sanji begged, pressing his forehead against yours, "What can I do to make you stay? Tell me. I'll do anything. Do I need to kneel? To beg for your forgiveness? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything in my power to make you the happiest woman in all of East Blue. Just please, don't leave."

"I can't." You answered, closing your eyes, a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You hate the way he was making this so hard for you.

He only continued, "Hate me, curse me, shout at me, if you must. Anything but you leaving me. Or do you want to make me yours? Then I am letting you. Whatever you want, mon ange—my heart, my soul, my attention, they're all yours. I'm all yours."

"No..."

"The crew will be incomplete without you." Sanji insisted in anguish.

"I have dreams, Sanji. Just like you and the rest of the crew." You explained softly, placing your own hands on top of his in attempt to comfort him and relieve him from his confusion.

However, he was persistent, "You can achieve your dreams without leaving. You can stay, and I will support you in everything you do. You're better off staying with me—with us."

You said firmly, "I will not spend the rest of my life doing what I don't want."

"Even with me by your side?"

A few second pass before you finally reply, "I'd be miserable."

Pain flashed on his face, making you want to take back your own words, yet you remained strong and unyielding. Sanji took a deep breath and stepped away from you, saying, "I'd rather have you miserable here than go out there and encounter ruthless pirates."

The statement quickly irritated you, frowning at him deeply. "You think I'll have problems with pirates when I've been serving them for years?"

"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be able to say that once you've encountered worse ones, with bounties higher than you could ever imagine." He snapped, voice raising with each word.

"I can manage on my own!" You bit back frustratingly, your tears evaporating into anger.

Sanji scowled at you, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. "You can't fight!" He shouted, voice breaking in the process, and with it, your heart too. It shattered like glass and the shards landed and pierced through your lungs, rendering you breathless. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock.

Seeing your expression, he immediately snapped back to reality, regret writing itself on his face. You shook your head in disbelief and let out a humorless laugh, "Are you telling me that I'm weak?"

"I didn't say that." Sanji quickly said in a hushed manner.

"But you're implying it!" You choked, still can't believe that he doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you enough to accomplish your dreams on your own, and that he was not confident that you'll succeed without him by your side.

You wanted to ask him about the passionate kiss you two shared, about his loving gestures that confused the hell out of you, about his fresh bruises that he received on purpose so that he can get you to stay, and why he did all of that. You needed confirmation. But the question that left you was, "What am I to you?"

Sanji stayed quiet, and your heart broke again once more. Deciding that this was the last time he breaks it, you walked away and left him alone to tend to his own injuries.

He lit up a cigarette as he listened to your fading footsteps. A single teardrop fell down from his eye the moment he placed the cigarette between his lips, and all he could think about was that you hurt more than the bruises on his cheeks.

You packed your bags and spoke with Nami, telling her that you were ready, and that was the fifth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke—and tomorrow, you'll finally succeed.

⸻ • ⸻

The sun had just risen, and the early morning breeze smelled of the ocean, the calming sound of waves filling your ears. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the sunlight wasn't harsh but pleasantly warm on your skin, making it the perfect day to start working on a new song and strum on your guitar for the melody.

But today was different. You were standing on the first step of the ship's staircase that leads to a docking station and a wooden walkway towards an unfamiliar island that was soon to be your new home. Your fingers clenched on the strap of your bag, finding this moment to be surreal. You have tried many times to leave, and here it was, right on the palms of your hands.

"So. This is it, huh?" Your trance broke as Nami commented beside you. She was the only one to bid you farewell and watch you leave, since the others were still asleep. You thought of Sanji and how he looked like when he was sleeping, staring at his handsome features so you can memorize them and implant it in your mind. He was your first love; you didn't want to forget him.

You smiled. "Thank you, Nami." You said earnestly, "I would've liked to spend more time with you. It's tiring to speak to men sometimes, don't you think?"

She laughed. "Yeah." Then, she caged you in her arms and hugged you tightly, surprising you for a second before you laughed too and returned the hug. "Stay safe out there."

"I will."

"So you planned to leave? Without saying goodbye?" A new voice interrupted, breaking the hug you and Nami both shared. You swiveled to look behind you, and there stood Sanji, appearing to have just woken up, with the strands of his blond hair sticking up in different directions. You observed his dejected expression, the downward tilt of the corners of his lips, and the glistening of his tired eyes. You stared at his crumpled suit and his crooked necktie. Despite how messy he looked, he will always be perfect to you.

You walked forward and looked at him fondly, with your eyes full of so much love reserved for him and him only. "Thought it would hurt less." You said, raising your hands to touch his hair and brush it down, "And I was right. How can I leave now when you're standing in front of me?"

He sighed shakily as he felt your soft fingers threading through his hair. "Then don't." He whispered. You only smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but that didn't stop you from taking both of his hands and caressing his knuckles using your thumb.

"Every night, I'll look at the moon and think of you. I'll tell my stories, sing my songs, and whisper my secrets to it. Just like what you and me would do when we were little." You told him softly and endearingly, "Would you be so kind as to look at the moon too and think of me?"

Sanji's eyebrows were scrunched together in agony, muttering, "I can't make you stay, can I?"

When you didn't answer, he just nodded his head, understanding what you wanted to stay. He forced a smile and tightly squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry."

"I'm yours." You answered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands. After letting your lips linger on his skin for a while, you slowly let go, and with one last glance at his face, you stepped back and made your way downstairs to the docking area, leaving before you could change your mind.

Sanji watched you go. While you walked away from the Going Merry, from the crew, and from him, not once did you look back. He just watched as you went farther away and became smaller in the distance, until you blended in with the crowd and you were just another person in a sea of people. And then you were gone.

It was the sixth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke, and this time, you finally did.

⸻ • ⸻

The red velvet curtains began to draw in front of you, gently falling back down on the stage as you said your final good-byes to your audience for tonight, a bouquet of roses cradled in your arms while you blew delicate kisses towards them. You can still hear their loud cheering and clapping even as you retreated to your personal room backstage.

A middle-aged woman greeted you inside when you stepped in the room and closed the door behind you, whistling. "There she is, our talented rising star!"

You only laughed at the silly nickname, setting the bouquet of roses that one of the people gave you in tonight's show on top of your vanity table. "You exaggerate, Madam. I have only performed two shows in your beautiful theater."

The madam, who was the owner of the theater you were currently working in, shook her head in disagreement. "And those two shows are sold out!" She informed you proudly, placing her hands on your shoulders, "Let me know if you want to add more, you are welcome to perform here anytime."

"I'll think about it." You replied, smiling. The madam patted your shoulder twice before she left you alone, humming happily to herself. You huffed in amusement, fully aware that she doesn't appreciate your talents at all, but only cared for the money.

Regardless of that, you were happy. It has been a couple of years since you left the Strawhat Pirates and pursued your dreams all on your own, and you've been traveling to different islands across the seas to perform. You never had a permanent home; being a musician meant going to many places from time to time to share and spread out your music.

Yet you can't help but miss life on the sea.

You missed washing dishes on the Baratie and the late night conversations you had with Zeff. You missed Luffy and his weird antics, Usopp and his jokes, Zoro and his blunt comments, and Nami and her kindness.

You missed Sanji and everything that he was.

You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror on your desk. Your hair was pinned neatly, you had make-up on and you were dressed fancily for your performance. Years ago, you wouldn't look like this. It was hard to believe how much you've grown and changed, but these days, you felt like you wanted your old self back. Slowly, you took the itchy pins off your hair, and cleaned your face with warm water and a cloth. You replaced your dress in a more comfortable one and went outside.

Looking up at the night sky, you saw a bright full moon with no stars in sight. It was just the moon and its beauty, illuminating the pitch black sky with its glow. You silently watched it, a smile growing on your lips as you felt a tug on your heart.

"I wonder what you're up to, Sanji." You thought aloud, cheeks heating up at the memory of your first love and his golden hair and his contagious smiles. Then, to your surprise, a voice spoke unexpectedly.

"Well, I am fortuitous to have met such a beautiful angel."

You froze. No one referred to you as angel except for one.

Sanji.

As you turned around, he was already walking towards you. And there you both were, bathing under the moonlight, with him grinning at you mischievously and you looking at him lovingly.  You didn't know how he found you, but what mattered was that he searched for you and now he was here, and he was still making your heart beat fast in your chest just like all those years ago.

How the pesky feelings stayed and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. But maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, and the way his next words made you run into his open arms and kiss him until you were both breathless,

"There you are, ange."

taglist part 1 @angel-luv3r @appalost @chexmixtrys @nimtano @sparklyphantom @natalieisfreeziing @reallysparklychaos @maydaylovex @johnnysactualgf @mochamei @kisumisumi @ttokyocat @mypurplewinee @rosaliinnn @nonniecannie @court-jester-stuff @detectivelucy07 @megumiif @untitledandrandom @erin-the-king @fangeekkk @nikolaevna-art @candesstuff @chaoticevilbakugo

[celiababy]

Ain't Right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You have a major (borderline obsessive) crush on Joel, and you're on a mission to fuck him.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, cum eating, name calling, kinda mean Joel, alcohol, vomiting, an extremely brief mention of suicide

Disclaimer: I lowkey don't know the logistics of the show so if some things are wrong please look over it I'm just trying to write smut about Joel Miller godbless.

Ain't Right part 2

Ever since that tortured old man showed up in Jackson, your life hasn't been the same.

Tommy's older brother, and your absolute undoing.

When Joel Miller rode into town, it was like everything suddenly made sense. The skies got clearer, the air smelled better, and the birds even chirped their love songs louder.

Everything about him drew you in; his cold demeanor, stoic face, tired eyes—but gentle around those he cared about, which was only a few select people.

And you certainly were not one of those select people.

Joel didn't know what to think about you.

To him, you were odd. Yes, you were undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in Jackson, but he felt distance between the two of you was essential.

He felt this way because he knew.

Joel wasn't oblivious to your stares; he might've been an old man, but he remembered the laws of attraction fairly well.

He didn't like the thought of you liking him.

You were young, attractive, and had plenty of age-appropriate prospects just begging for your attention. Every boy in Jackson wanted a piece of you—but you only had eyes for Joel.

He was getting old and tired, ain't no reason why you should be so fond over him.

He also didn't like that you made your attraction so obvious. It made people whisper, and Joel about had enough teasing from Tommy.

"You gonna let that young thing jump your bones or what, Joel?" Is an example of the few things his brother would chirp at him whenever you were around and had eyes on him like he was a target.

So, all things considered, it's no surprise when Joel is reluctant to make a supply run with you.

You had begged Tommy to let you go out and finally start pulling your weight, carefully adding that Joel would be a great teacher for a first timer like yourself.

You stand near the truck, squeezing the straps of your backpack while watching Joel and Tommy whisper to themselves a couple feet away.

"You can't find anyone else?" Joel growls lowly, narrowing his eyes at his insufferable brother who he’d really like to strangle right now.

"Are you seriously scared of a twenty year old girl, Joel?" Tommy asked exasperatedly, throwing his arm out in disbelief. "It'll take two hours tops, what the hell are you so scared of?" Joel is exhaling through his nose, dragging a hand down his jaw in complete disgruntlement.

"You know what the hell I'm scared of Tommy—goddammit," He gets in his brother’s face before realizing you’re still watching them.

He takes a moment to back up and calm down, breathing out through his nose.

"I do not need this town thinkin' I am encouraging this girls...feelin's." He murmurs lowly.

Tommy rolls his eyes before shoving Joel's backpack into his chest.

"Just don't fuck her, Joel. How hard could it be?"

Joel watches as Tommy turns his back and walks away, leaving just you and him.

Joel had spent a lot of time making sure he was never in a situation alone with you—now he was about to be your unsupervised mentor.

He feels a groan try and crawl its way out his throat, but he pushes it down.

He starts walking to the truck, not even looking at you as he passes and yanks the driver side door open with more force than necessary.

"Let's make this quick." He grunts out, climbing inside.

You do the same, only with a little bit more enthusiasm. ***

The trip is a complete bust.

Joel barely paid you any attention, no matter how many flirty gestures you made at him.

You'd say something remotely suggestive and he'd either glare at you, or just flat out ignore you.

But you were relentless. Giving up on him wasn't in the cards for you, no matter how many judgmental looks he casted your way.

You guys had been driving back to town for around five minutes; Joel has kept his eyes firmly on the road in fear of you sparking a conversation with him.

But you do anyways.

You turn your body to face him in the bench seat, your eyes cascading down his breath-taking side profile.

You zoned in on the gray patches of his beard, and how his face had the remnants of a long, unforgiving life weaved into his wrinkles and scars.

You're momentarily rendered speechless by his looks before he side-eyes you.

"What?" He huffs out, not being able to handle your intense stare any longer.

"Why not?"

A beat.

"What?" He asks again, his brows furrowing together, an annoyed and confused expression painting his features.

"Why won't you fuck me?"

Joel physically winces at your language, scoffing in what looks to be disgust as he starts shaking his head.

"We're not starting this." He snaps firmly, a tone in his voice that you haven't heard before.

Completely disregarding his words, you start.

"Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" Joel groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Is it because there's someone else?" He's close to snapping. "Is it because you can't get it up? I heard thats a problem with guys your age-"

Joel slams on the brakes, sending you lurching forward. He shoves the truck into park before turning to face you, a scary look on his face.

"I am not going to fuck you--Christ almighty," Joel raises his voice at you.

You're staring at him, wide eyes and lips parted in surprise. You weren't really expecting this.

"you're bustin' my fuckin' balls, Look kid," He starts up again, this time with a softer tone. "M'about 40 years too old for you-"

You cut him off with a murmur. "36, I did the math."

"Same damn thing," he snaps, shaking his head. "Point is—you don't needa be wastin' your time with me; there are plenty boys your age that will satisfy your...you."

You scoff in his face but try to disguise it by clearing your throat.

"I'm not asking you to marry me, Joel," You start, a sad smile spreading across your lips. "S'just sex." You say with a shrug, blush coating your cheeks because now your mind is imagining sex with him.

He stays silent and looks away from you, closing his eyes like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

That urges you to say more.

"I won't tell anyone," You're practically whispering, looking down at your fidgeting hands in your lap. "I'd let you do anything you wanted to me."

Joel's heart cinches in his chest at your words, mostly because he can tell you're being so genuine.

Why the hell did you like him so much? He just couldn’t understand it.

But he can't entertain this any longer because he knows if he did, he'd give into you.

"I don't wanna hear another goddamn word outta your mouth." Joel says in a strikingly even and calm tone, putting the truck into drive and continuing back.

He's eerily silent, and so is the rest of the trip because you're too dejected to speak.

Eventually, you both arrive home and you're fast to get out of the truck.

You slam the door and keep your head down as you walk away, snow crunching beneath your boots.

Joel takes his time, watching you storm off with tired eyes.

He feels bad for being so rough on you, but he figured it was the only way to get you to stop liking him.

Tommy walks up, a concerned look on his face as he looks back between you and Joel.

"Guessin' you didn't fuck her."

***

Nobody had seen you in days.

The pain of rejection had you in a mental place that you had never experienced before.

No one has ever denied you—ever.

The situation was 100x worse considering you actually liked Joel, and he wasn't just another toy to play with.

Joel figured his life would get easier with you not around, and it kinda did in some aspects.

But he couldn't stop the gnawing feeling of guilt slowly eating at him like a parasite.

He'd been cruel to you in the way he went about things, and he felt bad.

Had he really broken your heart? He didn't know you liked him that much.

He sits in his living room, contemplating how to go about this entirely fucked up situation.

He debates making amends with you, apologizing and rejecting you again but in a gentler way.

He deliberates on his plan of action while nursing a glass of whiskey before he's interrupted by three bangs on his front door, followed by a screeching: "JOEL"

He mutters a 'what the fuck' under his breath, walking to the door and picking his 9mil up on the way.

His eyes widen when he sees you-standing there in all your glory.

It's the middle of winter and snowing like hell, yet you're wearing shorts and a tank top with a beer bottle in your hand.

"Jesus, kid-what the fuck," Joel ushers you inside quickly, taking his big jacket off the coatrack and draping it over you.

He also tosses his gun to the side, obviously you were no threat.

"You tryin' to get frostbit? Christ," he's swearing and muttering profanities as he guides you over to the couch, now basically swaddling you in blankets.

You've never been inside his house before, only ever walked passed it a few times. It smells like him.

You, however, smell like alcohol and bad decisions.

Joel picked up on how drunk you were the minute you stumbled through the door. He takes the bottle from your hand and sets it aside somewhere, glaring at you like how a mad parent would.

"The hell are you doin' out in the snow like that? Fuckin' death wish or somethin'?"

His words are kinda fuzzy in your ears, you're so drunk that you barely even register them.

An unprompted giggle spills from your lips as you shake your head at him.

"It's not snowing silly," You chide, making him out to be an idiot when, in actuality, it's a damn blizzard outside.

He knows from that statement alone that you are way off your rocker tonight.

"How much have ya had to drink, kid?" Joel asks, raking a hand through his graying hair.

"Don't call me kid," You snap, a quick flash of anger in your expression. "M'not a kid."

Joel rolls his eyes so hard that he probably caused a tsunami on the other side of the world.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. What are you doin’ here?” He asks exasperatedly, dragging a hand down his jaw while looking at your trembling figure.

There’s a long pause before you answer. You just got distracted by his big brown eyes.

“Jus’ wanted to say hi.” You murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from his face.

“Say hi?” He reiterates, looking at you like you’ve actually lost your mind.

You probably have.

After a moment, Joel can’t help but chuckle in disbelief, letting his body lean back against the couch.

The absurdity of it all turned humorous to him.

Here you are, sitting in his living room, practically nude with only his coat and blankets protecting your modesty, having just trekked through the snow all for what? To say hey?

You’re still sitting there, motionless and trying to remember how to breathe because his laughing face has your heart lighting off fireworks.

“Fuckin’ hell—hi.” Is all he says, turning his head to the side to look at you as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You smile like a dope at him, so extremely happy to be there in his company.

But the alcohol in your system is fighting you, and you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

“S’it cool if I say the nigh?” You slur, falling vertically on the couch, your head crashing onto Joel’s thigh.

You nuzzle your cheek against the fabric of his jeans and Joel is just about to gently push you off, but he stops himself.

You look so comfortable and so at peace that Joel can’t do anything except stare at you.

Your cheek is slightly smushed, your lips are parted, your eyes are shut and don’t plan on opening—it’s insane to him how at home you looked.

Like you belonged here, head rested on his lap.

Fuck.

He was fucked this time.

He doesn’t move you. Instead, he fixes the blankets on top of you so you’re fully covered, and sits there with you the entire night.

He’s really gone soft.

***

When morning comes, you’re first to wake up, accompanied by a splitting headache.

You don’t even notice how Joel’s hand had fallen onto your waist some time during the night because you’re too busy making a b-line for the bathroom.

You chuck your guts up into the toliet, clutching the porcelain and groaning out in pain.

Joel wakes up to the sound of your hurling, momentarily disoriented before he remembers last nights events.

He’s quick to come to your aid in the bathroom, wasting no time gathering your hair in his fist to get it out of your face.

"S'right, get it all out," He murmurs out encouragingly, seemingly unfazed by the disheveled sight of you.

You’re too sick to be embarrassed, that’ll come later surely.

He sits on the wall of the tub as he continues holding your hair back, yawning every now and then like this was just a regular Tuesday morning.

Eventually, by the mercy of God, you get it all out of your system and slump up against the wall.

“M’sorry,” You immediately apologize, figuring that is the only right move in this situation.

“Don’t be. Been through plenty'a that in my day.”

His words are uncharacteristically reassuring and you find yourself taken back by them.

You soon realize this is probably just the hazy morning Joel, the Joel where he isn't worried about anything except coffee and breakfast—like everything wrong in his life is put on the back burner for this short minute in time.

“I’ll get you some water and Advil, sit tight.” He grunts before standing up on his feet, knees popping as he walks out.

You watch as he leaves, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.

Aside from the vomit part, you could get used to this.

You've never seen him so...domestic. His hair was all messy, his voice was raspy, he had that morning haze over his features that you felt so honored to witness.

You suddenly felt compelled to look at your own appearance, hopping to your feet and looking in the dirty mirror.

You resist the urge to audibly gasp at your reflection, opting for a disgusted look instead.

Your hair is a rats nest, your clothes are a mess, and your mascara has rubbed off in black smudge all over the skin around your eyes.

In a desperate attempt to look at least semi-presentable, you wash your face with water and comb through your hair with your fingers.

The idea that Joel had seen you looking like that was making your stomach churn again.

Before you can grovel about it any longer, he rounds the corner with a glass of water and little brown pills in his hand.

“Here,” He says softly, handing you the water and tilting the pills into your open palm. “Take these ‘n drink all that water and ya should get to feelin’ better.”

You do as he says, swallowing the Advil in one go before taking a big sip to wash it down.

His eyes drift down to your shoulder, where your tank top strap has fallen. No doubt from all that vigorous throwing up you were doing moments ago.

Without thinking, his fingers graze your forearm before bringing the strap back up to its correct position, clearing his throat in the process.

A beat of silence falls over the both of you.

You’re gobsmacked by the complete nonchalance of his touch, staring at him with your mouth slightly open in shock.

“What?” He asks defensively, his tone pointed.

You look between him and your shoulder strap, then slowly move to set your water down.

“Are you sure we can’t fuck?”

“Goddammit—” Joels cursing before you can even finish saying the last word in your sentence.

He turns away from you, probably the fastest you’ve seen anyone turn in their life, and walks towards his room with an accelerating pace.

He shakes his head in disbelief all the way down the hall, pivoting on his heel to duck into his bedroom.

You follow him, not really fazed by how he completely refused to answer your question, though you didn’t think he would anyway.

Before you can step foot into the threshold of his room, Joel walks out, causing you to back up.

He shoves a stack of clothes in your direction, looking down at you with a frustrated face. “Put these clothes on and go home.”

You look down, realizing he was letting you borrow a sweater and jeans of his so you didn’t die walking back to your house from the cold.

Your heart warms at this thoughtfulness.

Without wasting any time, you take the clothes from his hands, smiling happily. “Can I keep them?”

“Why the hell would you wanna keep my clothes?” He’s got that confused/angry look on his face as he asks, and you have to suppress a giggle at the sight of it.

You bring the pieces of fabric up to your nose and inhale, humming as you breathe out again. “They smell like you.”

“Christ,” Joel beings his hands up to rub at his eyes. “Fine, do whatever. Just hurry up and change, jesus,"

Ever the tease, you set down his clothes and begin to lift your tank top like you planned to change right in front of him.

Joel's hands shoot out to stop you, a 'don't try me,' look on his face.

"Put them on over your clothes," Joel says sternly, watching the way you sigh because you weren't fast enough in lifting your tank top off.

However, you sieze the opportunity in front of you.

Joel's hands are holding yours down, so you work to intertwine your fingers, invading his space by stepping forward.

"Or, you could take my clothes off," You purr, your chest now flush with his torso.

Joel exhales through his nose, his jaw clenching as he tried deciding how he was going to get out of this situation.

But then he paused.

Looking down at you now, so eager and wide eyed, made him wonder.

If he fucked you, and made you realize it wasn't what you were probably imagining in your head, maybe then you'd finally leave him alone.

He would just...pretend to be awful at sex.

(Even though it had been so long and he wasn't sure if he'd actually need to 'pretend' anymore.)

There's a long silence that drags out between the both of you.

Your stomach is doing flips because it's looking like he's finally going to agree.

His resolve cracks and Joel can't do anything but sigh in defeat.

Slowly, Joel pulls you back into his room, closing the door behind you both.

Time is moving in slow motion.

You can't believe it's finally happening.

He guides you back until the back of your knees hit his bed, prompting you to sit down on it.

"I'm only going to do this once," Joel's voice is uncharacteristically low and calm, and it has your core tightening.

You nod in acknowledgement, waiting to see what he's going to do next.

With care, he pushes your shoulder down so you're laying on your back. "Are you sure you want this?" He asks, brown eyes searching yours.

"Have I not made it obvious?" You quip, a giggle following shortly after.

Joel only shakes his head before his fingers latch around the fabric of your shorts, pulling them down and off your legs.

"S'pose you have." He murmurs, scratching the back of his neck.

You're vibrating with excitement and you repeat what you tried earlier, only this time succeeding with taking your top off.

Of course, you're not wearing a bra.

Joel realizes in that moment that he bit off way more than he could chew.

He hasn't seen breast that weren't on a soggy piece of paper in at least a few years, and yours--well, his cock stood no chance.

You hear him swallow, watching as he can't seem to stop staring at your chest.

Realizing that he might need a little encouragement to start speeding things along, you smile up at him and whisper, "touch me Joel".

Yeah, screw this. His plan of pretending to be bad was now entirely forgotten—he was going to do what he wanted, so help him god.

He huffs out a curse before sliding a hand up your torso, stopping once he's fully cupped one of your breasts in one hand. He kneads it like dough while using his other hand to disappear under your panties.

A choked moan erupts from your lips once you feel his fingers brush along your clit, rubbing around and spreading your slick around all too slowly.

"haven't even done anythin' yet and you're already fuckin' soaked..." He murmurs really to just himself, his eyes casting down to watch as he rips your underwear off impatiently.

"M'always like this whenever you're around," you mewl to spur him on, spreading your legs wider.

"Oh you are, huh?" Joel repeats back, the tiniest bit of cruelty in his tone that makes you shiver.

You nod, bucking your hips into his hand desperately.

"don't get why you like an old man like me, s'gross." His tone is flat but it's clear he's teasing by the way he curls his fingers inside of you. He's not really expecting a response, but you feel compelled.

You lurch forward, gasping at the feeling. "I really like you," You rush out breathlessly. "I'd do anything you wanted me to." You say earnestly as you stare into his eyes, loving what you're seeing.

Joel remembers when you told him that the first time, his heart cinching the same way it did then.

Joel is at war with himself. One side of him is screaming that this whole situation is fucked up and he is better off without you.

Another part of him thinks that this is the most he’s ever felt in a long time. And he doesn't want to lose it.

You can see the gears turning in his head. His fingers have slipped from you and you wince at the loss.

Slowly, you sit up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your nipples pressing into his shirt.

He's confused and momentarily panicked when your faces get so close together, his hands seeking purchase on your hips.

In an unexpected move, you rake your hands through the side of his hair, looking lovingly at his face.

"I just wanna be someone for you," You murmur, your face breaking a little as Joel's resolve also cracks. "Doesn't matter what. I'm very versatile." You mumble the last part to try and lighten the mood.

Joel just stares at you—something swimming behind his eyes that you can't quite place.

Eventually, he crashes his forehead against yours, sighing out.

"You're makin' this fuckin' impossible." He rasps before kissing you with a passion you've never felt before.

You feel victorious.

He's finally given in to you.

Eagerly, you kiss back, wrapping your legs around his torso and grinding your bare cunt against the bulge in his jeans.

"Then stop trying so hard to get rid of me," You sigh out, chasing his lips even as you're trying to speak.

He groans and you catch it in your mouth, the pressure on his clothed cock making him dizzy.

“Fuck,” He’s quick to unbuckle his belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it somewhere on the floor. “Lay back.” He demands and you immediately follow suit.

He's never been that...assertive with you before. It makes you tingle all over.

He looks starved as he peers down at you, specifically your cunt.

He literally can’t tear his eyes off your sex—he only looks up to your gaze when you let out an impatient whine.

He rips down his pants, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach.

Now you can’t tear your eyes away from his sex.

You’ve only dreamt it so many times, but now that it’s finally in front of you—it all just feels surreal.

It’s better than you imagined, perfect.

“I don’t have a—”

You know what he’s about to say so you cut him off immediately. “S’okay, like it raw. Closer to you that way.” You murmur.

Joel looks physically pained that he’s not inside you right now. For some reason, you just know all the right things to say.

“Closer to me?” He huffs out, hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to the edge of the bed where he stood.

Now your cunt is flush with the base of his member and the sensation drives you both insane. “You’re fuckin’ insane.”

Joel rasps, but the way he says it reveals just how far he’s fallen. He knows you’re crazy, and yet here he is, balancing you out.

He glides his member back and forth against your folds, gathering up your wetness with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows.

He looks so concentrated—meanwhile you’re writhing with pleasure and impatience. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for him.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs to himself, eyes tracing all over you.

You freeze.

Joel had complimented you for the first time, and it was genuine.

He notices you stiffen and takes a moment to pause.

Your entire body erupts with goosebumps, your heart beating at exceptionally fast speeds.

He's worried for a second that something is horribly wrong.

“What?” He asks, confused at what’s got you so wound up.

Your face is flushed red as you bashfully giggle. “You called me pretty.”

Ah fuck.

Joel finds you so charming it hurts.

After he remembers how to breathe again, he rolls his eyes and clears his throat.

“I have my cock to your cunt, of course I find you pretty.”

You smile and shrug. “Still. Nice to hear.” You’re all smiles until his tip prods at your entrance, causing a gasp to leave your throat.

He continues to apply pressure with his tip and it’s driving you crazy.

“Fuck Joel—are you trying to kill me?” You whine, hips wiggling to get him in.

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Relax, m’almost there.”

Slowly, he begins pushing his way inside. His mushroom head breaches you entirely and it feels like you can hear the angels singing.

He continues forward, the stretch being mainly around the middle of his thick cock.

But you’re taking it like a champ.

Joel braces himself with hands on both sides of your torso as he bottoms out, a groan crawling its way out of his throat.

The sensation is absolutely delicious.

A little bit of pain from the stretch, but so much pleasure from the fullness.

“Joel, ohmygod you feel so good inside me.” You moan, throwing your head back.

Your hips start moving on their own, but he immediately stops you with two large hands.

“D-Don’t move—fuck.” Joel grumbles out, his face pinched together in what looked like pain.

You’re confused for a moment, thinking maybe that he might just be really into cockwarming.

But then it hits you.

“Were you gonna come?” The tone in your voice makes it seem like you’d be elated if that was the case—like the most flattering thing in the world.

Joel looks pissed that you caught on so quick.

In truth, the moment he put his tip in, he was holding back his orgasm.

Can you blame him? He’s only fucked his hand for the last couple years.

“S’been a while.” Is all he can say, his chest heaving up and down in concentration. You know he’s embarrassed, but you can’t help but smile like a dope at him.

“If you come, please do it inside, please,” you beg, reaching out for his arms that caged you in.

Joel's rational mind feels like it just touched down in looney town after hearing your begging.

He feels crazy because he liked the thought of the idea you proposed. You even see him hesitate. But then he scoffs and shakes his head.

Joel drops down closer to your face, slowly starting to rock his hips into you. "Tryin' to baby trap me, girl?" He grunts in your ear, making you moan out.

Your walls are clenching down on him, and it’s making it that much harder to hold back. “No-no, promise, just wanna be full of you." You manage to blubber out...unconvincingly.

You probably didn't really want a baby with Joel, but your lust-driven brain was working on fumes and you just wanted to do what felt good.

Joel's grunting in your ear was not helping things. His fingers were gripping your hip so hard, you figured it would probably bruise tomorrow

Good. You wanted whatever he would give you.

"Christ--m'not gonna last much longer," Joel groans, picking his head up a little to meet your gaze. He wanted to kick himself for not being able to last, but when he saw your face, all those feelings disappeared.

You looked so--perfect. Soaking up the moment in case it was the last, god you hoped it wasn't the last time. Now that you've finally had a tase of him, you weren't sure you could live without it.

Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him firmly in your cunt. Joel notices this and also your pleading eyes, a growl leaving his throat.

"Please, please, please, please," you beg, never breaking eye contact with him as his thrusts pick up speed.

He ruins your long string with pleas with a needy kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat like a starving man.

You accept it happily, moaning out into the kiss while Joel manhandles your hips to take his cock.

The feeling is damn near euphoric for both you and him. It gets even better when Joel's hand comes down to rub at your clit again.

Your back arches off the bed as you gasp and moan out, wrapping your arms back around his shoulders. "F-Fuck!" You moan into his ear, probably drooling on his shoulder in the process. "thankyouthankyouthankyou-" you sputter out in choked sobs. He was really good at working on your clit, you couldn't do anything else but thank him for it.

Joel feels a surge of something when he hears you. He's never had a woman thank him in bed before.

It's enough to push him over the edge. And apparently you too.

"I'm gonna come Joel, please don't stop," There are pools of tears in your eyes that Joel is just now noticing. He's about to reply to you, but he finds himself speechless when he feels your cunt start constricting and fluttering around him like a vice.

"Fuck!" He groans out loudly, his hips starting to falter in their rhythm. But then he picks up speed again, and in no time he's like a madman jackhammering into you.

You're a mess of screams and cries and moans underneath him, happily taking everything he was giving you.

When Joel feels himself about to come, he notices how your legs are still tightly wrapped around him, keeping him inside, and he manages to scoff out.

"Gotta let me go baby," You've never heard that pet name from him before, and it makes you crumble. His hands move to grab at your thighs, kneading the flesh there.

You whine out but reluctantly release the grip your legs had on him. Joel doesn't waste time before hugging both your legs on his chest, keeping them firmly placed while your feet squirmed by his ear.

"Atta girl," he murmurs before picking up speed again, his cock head pressing into your cervix.

It's all too much for you. Joel looks so amazing pounding into you from above, his concentrated face, his sweat, the way his salt and pepper hair is all disheveled, you're losing your mind.

Your core is on fire and you can't stop yourself.

In a staggering turn of events, you come first.

Your walls come down like bricks on his dick, you cry out, throwing your head back in complete bliss and ecstasy.

Seeing and feeling this, Joel is quick to follow in your steps. He rips himself from that warm hole of yours and pumps himself dry onto your stomach.

You watch it all with wide eyes, you wouldn't have missed Joel's orgasm face for the world!

Of course, his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth was open as he was breathing heavily, and his eyebrows turned down like he was mad.

God he was so beautiful.

His thick ropes of cum shoot all over your stomach and even your breasts as he jerks himself off to completion.

When he finishes, he takes a moment to catch his breath, finally opening his eyes to see you scoop up his cum from your breast with your finger and shove it in your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around his seed and you swallow eagerly, humming out in satisfaction at the taste of him.

Joel's watching in complete fascination, though his expression looks a little angry. When does it not?

"taste so good," you mumble with your finger still in your mouth, looking up at him with your big eyes.

He moves before he can think about it--ripping your hand away from your lips and caging you in a slow but deep kiss.

He soon falls down beside you and soon rolls over onto his back, his chest rising and falling from the excursion.

You curl into his side, watching his side profile so intently. You had just fucked Joel Miller.

And it was everything you had dreamed of. Extreme happiness doesn't even begin to describe your feelings right now.

There's a long stretch of silence that drapes over the both of you. Eventually, Joel breaks it with something extremely off topic.

"Last night...you didn't just come here to say 'hi', did you?"

You're momentarily speechless, not expecting that question from him at all. But you can't stop a giggle from coming through your lips.

"Actually, I came to confront you." Your voice is soft as you begin speaking, thinking back to last night's ordeal.

Joel doesn't expect this answer, his head turns to look at you while you speak. His arm comes down to drape over your shoulder.

"I was really upset cus you rejected me n'all. I just couldn't accept the whole, 'age gap' excuse. I wanted to know if you just really didn't like me or not." You're murmuring, drawing soft lines with your finger on the skin of Joel's chest.

He huffs out a breath at the explanation, shaking his head. "Guess you got your answer, huh." He grumbles out, somewhat ashamed of himself that he couldn't hold back.

You smile and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I did," you chirp happily, admiring his face again. "You know you're gonna have to fuck me, like, everyday now, right?"

You're kidding. But you're also not at all.

Joel scoffs and sits up, moving to pick up both his and your shirts. "Fat chance. Barely had enough stamina for one round." He grunts out, finding the neck hole in your tank top and putting it over your head for you.

You don't bother to pull it down over your breasts so Joel does it for you.

"It's okay, we can build up your tolerance over time." You quip with a teasing smile, loving the way Joel turned to glare a you.

He couldn't believe the youth these days.

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT ✦ M.R x READER

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time (part one to lovesick!mattheo)

SECOND PART HERE - lovesick!mattheo christmas edition

pairing: lovesick!mattheo riddle x reader tags: lovesick mattheo, fem reader, so tamino inspired word count: 3.7k warnings: just fluff again! along with easily flustered mattheo (+ teasing theo)

author's note: my second post!! i made a small playlist of tamino songs i used for mattheo in this. if you haven’t, please go listen to him (his music is so good). i based this off a small part of my first fic where theo sang to reader. as always, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

if you would like to read the second part, click here!

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[jamminvroomvroom]

no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

-

whoops? lol

-

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789

(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)

[nachojaehyun]

you give good love

pairing. brother’s best friend! idol! dino + fem! reader

summary. as lee chan’s eyes met yours again, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

w.c. 5.10K

playlist. kind of based off of you give good love by whitney houston but not really i was just listening to it while writing this

warnings. [PLEASE READ] reader is hoshi’s sister, mentions of freak dino 🫢, smut under the cut, PWP, afab reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom chan, pussy eating from the BACK, uses of pet names, chan has a BIG dick, BULGE KINK, very little dirty talking, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl please), creampie duh — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. pi-cheollin is the reason i live and breathe. also i might write chunsunie x pi-cheollin fics soon 😭 also thank you guys so so so much for 2K notes on the wonwoo fic 🙇‍♀️ super grateful for all your love, more soon. this is also my first ever long fic, so i hope you like it. enjoy!

“so yeah, those are the dates and timings of the flight. now, check your schedule.”

soonyoung could hear the ruffling of paper as he waited on the phone. the air con blasted in his face, evaporating any signs of sweat from his pores.

“yeah, i think i’ll be able to make it!” your voice chirped. soonyoung couldn’t help the smile on his face. “thank god! also, don’t worry about being lonely, jeonghan hyung’s sister will also be there, and also wonwoo’s sister.”

“i haven’t seen them in so long! wow, a true trip down memory lane,” you sighed, finally setting aside the calendar on your lap. “they ask about you a lot, i told you to exchange contacts with them!” your brother scolded you.

“i may have forgotten… but all that aside, how much do i need to pack?” you nervously bit your lip, contemplating how much shopping you would need to do.

“it’s a summer trip for one week, basically a mini vacation. pack a good amount of shirts and tops and modest shorts. bring your grandma style swimsuits for the pool.”

“grandma style swimsuit? oh please! i didn’t work out all winter to wear a one-piece!” you complained, flexing your biceps in front of the mirror. “i’ll bring what i want to bring.”

“and if i see any of these perverts staring at you, i’ll chop your head off too, yeah?” soonyoung sighed. “yeah yeah, they are the perverts. and you’re the polished lamb of jesus who has never gawked at wonwoo’s sister right?”

your rhetorical question has your brother stunned as he gapes into the abyss, his mouth filling up with the cool air from the air con. “i’m… how did you—” he begins, only to be cut off by the doorbell of his shared apartment.

“that’s the others. look, i’ll leave now, but make sure to pack properly, okay? text me if you need anything. see you soon.”

with that, he hung up. you smiled as you set down your phone, already deciding the outfits in your head.

as you walked over to your closet, your phone interrupted your thought process with a loud notification.

이찬: oi

이찬: did you get the plane tickets?

with a sigh, you texted back your brother’s best friend, who had somehow managed to find out about soonyoung inviting you.

you: ya, i will be coming.

you could see the dots bouncing on the screen, but you chose to ignore them. switching over to a music app, you started to scroll through and pick your random playlist.

your brother’s song, God of Music started to play and you threw your phone on the bed, enjoying the music.

you could text chan back later. he was really annoying, and it’s not like he meant anything to you anyway.

your phone buzzed with his notifications as you sorted through swim suits. “hmm, this makes my ass look fat right?”

as you landed in the jeju international airport, you gathered your luggage and made your way to the gates.

your brother was already waiting outside, clad in a mask and a cap. wonwoo and his sister accompanied him, smiling and waving at you.

“hey guys!” you hugged them, before fixing the crop top that rode up your waist. “i missed you so much!” minji (wonwoo’s sister) squealed.

the four of you got in the car after shoving your luggage in the back. wonwoo sat next to your brother, scrolling through his phone as you and minji chatted their ears off.

soonyoung couldn’t help but peek at the rear view mirror ever so often, catching glances of minji and smiling to himself.

you wanted to call him out, but decided against embarrassing your brother so early into the trip.

within 30 minutes, you had reached the share house. it was a beautiful property, surrounded by greenery. the sounds of waves crashing on the beach wallowed around you as you dragged your suitcase up the ramp.

“eunsok is dying to meet you! we must make a group chat this time, so that we remember to check up on each other, yeah?” minji helped you with your handbag, smiling as you nodded enthusiastically.

in front of the main door, you took in a sharp breath, before pushing the mahogany portico open.

immediately inside, you were greeted by jeonghan, joshua and mingyu lounging about on the couch. however, upon the sound of your entrance, eunseok ran down the stairs, engulfing both you and minji in a bone-crushing hug.

“i missed you!” she screamed, nearly tackling you on the floor. with a giggle, you hugged her back. “me too! its just sad that sophie couldn’t join us.”

muttering agreements under their giggly breath, the two helped you get up, and greet the others.

as you answered jeonghan’s questions about your well-being, you heard heavy footsteps from the stairs.

lee chan’s body appeared downstairs. when his gaze countered yours, you choked on your words.

it had been nearly 5 years since you had seen him in person. and wow, had he changed. dino, as he was famously known as these days, sported much bigger muscles, and a sculpted face. his hairstyle was finally suiting his face, a beautiful contrast to the bowl cuts you had seen him in during childhood.

for the first time in your life, you actually looked at him. and boy, did he look good. the tank top he wore showed off his body as he walked towards you, checking you out silently.

he had to admit, you surprised him. your black crop top, barely there jean shorts, and long brown hair came as a huge shock to chan.

he had remembered you as the snot-faced bratty sister of his best friend. the girl in pigtails who would cry every time he brought up your crush in middle school.

as lee chan’s eyes met yours, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

“hi,” chan finally placed himself in front of you, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. ���hi,” you breathed out, clutching the handle of your suitcase tighter.

“oh, you guys are meeting after so long!” mingyu chuckled, his eyes wandering around the room as he noticed the tension between you and his youngest member.

“yeah,” you smiled, transfixed by chan’s eyes. his plush lips parted as he glanced at your glossy ones, before quickly scanning your face.

“okay, that’s enough of your weird staring contest,” soonyoung placed a hand on chan’s chest, pushing him back to create some distance between you two.

“i’ll help you get to your room,” he turned to you. “you’re lucky, since you get it to yourself, but its comparatively smaller and narrower than the others—”

“wait, weren’t we supposed to buy alcohol and meat from the store on the way back?” wonwoo suddenly remembered, making all the eyes in the room turn to him.

“shit!” minji slapped her forehead, tutting. “we’ll go get them then! you wanna come with?” she smiled at you, eunseok joining in.

“i think i should set up my things first yeah? but take soonyoung in my place,” you shoved your brother forward. “he’d love to go grocery shopping with you.”

minji’s cheeks flared up as she straightened her posture, nodding. “sure yeah.”

within minutes, wonwoo, minji, eunseok, soonyoung and mingyu headed off to the car, ready to buy crates of beer for the evening.

as the door shut behind him, jeonghan threaded his hands through his hair, smirking. “dino-yah,” he cooed. “why don’t you help her with her luggage?”

almost immediately, joshua joined in, egging on the maknae as both of you felt the heat creep up on your neck.

wordlessly, chan snatched your suitcase from your hand, beckoning you upstairs. you bowed at the two elder to you, before running up to chan.

he led you to a small room in the very corner of the second floor, opening the door with his leg as he walked in.

chan cleared his throat as you walked in, placing your hands on your bare waist. “so, this is your room.”

you nodded at him, taking in your space for the rest of the trip. the room was furnished with a queen sized bed, a love-seat in the corner, a small desk and chair and a balcony in the very end.

“this door,” chan walked over to a door that sat perpendicular to the entry. “this is the door to a common bathroom. its a jack and jill one, that connects to the room opposite to you.”

“oh? and who’s in the room opposite to me?” you questioned, raising your eyebrow. with a dramatic sigh, chan leaned against the bathroom door, swinging his head to meet your eyes.

“its me.”

your breath hitched as he gulped. “w-wow,” you stuttered out. “sounds great, chan. looks like we are forced together again,” you smirked, crossing your arms as you stared at him.

he knew what you were referring to.

back when you were kids, and way before the idiot in front of you had signed with Pledis, you and soonyoung had gone to his house for a sleepover. chan’s mother had insisted on having you sleep on the bed, since “the floor is no place for a lady to sleep.” you and chan shared the bed, while soonyoung dozed off on the ground.

you were 14 at that time, and you remember how you skin had heated up when chan inched closer to you. “there’s no one to save you from my tickles now, crybaby!” the 15 year old boy had threatened.

yet, chan could barely focus on the flashback, instead focusing on the way your breasts nearly fell out from the neckline of your top.

you noticed his staring. smirking, you drew closer, tightening the cross of your arms.

“what’s this now, you’re ogling at me?”

you had him cornered. chan’s back was against the wall at you forced yourself into his space, breasts touching his hard torso.

“i—in you dreams!” he lied through his teeth, nervousness oozing out of his soul as he stared down at your tits.

god, the things he would do to slot his dick between those beautiful, gorgeous, one of a kind—

“my eyes are up here, channie,” you stuck your tongue out at him, before backing away and walking up to your suitcase.

dino felt his blood rushing south as you bent over to pick your bag up and place it on the table.

you purposefully wiggled your ass, humming to yourself. “channie,” you called out, voice as sweet as a siren.

“yeah?” dino collected himself, shaking away the filth that plagued his mind. two can play that game, he decided, biting his lip.

“can you come help me put my things in the bathroom? i have too much to unpack.”

with a nod, he walked over to your space, his chest touching your back as he leaned over your shoulder. “why did you pack so much, hm?” he teased you, running his fingers down your smooth arms.

not backing down from the challenge, you pushed your ass against him, whipping your head to meet his eyes. “i just wanted to look good, y’know? in case there was a strong, buff, hot man i wanted to seduce.”

with a hiss at your movements, chan’s hands flew to your hips. “yeah? you’ve grown up so much that you seduce men now?”

“oh, i do a lot more than just seduce,” you giggled, skincare long forgotten on the desk as you turned around, hopping on the wooden platform as your arms loosely slung around his neck.

chan slotted his knee between your legs, the pervert in him alive and breathing at the sight of you. you were driving him insane.

how you had managed to change so much over a few years had him baffled. instead of worrying about soonyoung, chan thought with his dick.

“what do you do then?” he questioned, eyes trained on your lips as you spoke. you pushed your clothed cunt down on his knee, biting back a moan.

“i think i would rather show you what i do than tell you,” you whimpered out, darkened eyes peering into his hazy ones.

chan bent his knee further into you, causing a delicious moan to escape your throat. “getting bold now, aren’t you?”

before you could even comprehend his words, your pussy spoke before you, hips rutting into his knee. however, a sharp knock on the door interrupted your little hump session.

“chan? y/n?” seungcheol’s voice spoke from behind the door. “you guys in there?”

chan quickly separated from you, walking closer to the door to answer. “yeah, i’m just helping her with her stuff. what’s up?”

“well, we were ordering some take out, so if you guys could come down and give your preferences, it would be great.”

“yeah, be there in a second,” chan glanced back at you, your teary eyes meeting his. the fucked out expression on your face made his dick jump to life.

but the heat of the moment had passed, which painted both of your cheek's a deep shade of red. realization hit dino way faster than it hit you. shooting you a tight-lipped smile, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

with a sigh, chan left the room and left you breathless, panting as your senses slowly returned. the fire of lust in your stomach had dimmed slightly, as realization dawned on you.

what the fuck just happened? and why did you like it?

nightfall arrived faster than you expected. but the cool air surrounding the beach raised bumps on your skin as you shoved grilled meat down your throat.

seungkwan and mingyu worked on the grill, with vernon filling up everyone’s plates with the expensive store bought items.

you sat on a stool next to seungcheol, sipping on the beer can that was handed to you. when everyone was busy with their own thing, the leader turned to you and smiled.

“so, how have you been? a long time has passed since we spoke right?”

you had always found comfort in seungcheol. he was the leader of the group, a very reliable and trustworthy person. you remember asking him for advice when you got into college.

“i’ve been well, how are you?” you set your can aside. “any luck with the ladies you used to complain about?”

he laughs loudly at that, spooning a mouthful of ramen. “no, i’m still stuck with one-night stands for now. dating is too complicated!”

when chan hears his hyung talking about his love life, he scoots closer to the both of you, shamelessly eavesdropping.

“what about you? get any action?” seungcheol giggled.

you could practically feel dino’s presence beside you like a wavering shadow, and you chose to exploit it. how dare he leave you with an unfinished orgasm?

“oh yeah, plenty!” you smirked. “don’t tell soonyoung, but i’m lowkey addicted to sex? just feels so good to let off some steam, you know? and the dudes around me are so easy… they fall into my hands like domino.”

the harsh truth behind those words were only known to you. you had been on a dry spell for nearly 2 months now. your fingers and toys were not enough, and you were pretty sure you had started to hallucinate about dick.

“wah, kwon hoshi’s sister is all grown up, huh? good for you girl, go get them!” seungcheol cheered you on, clinking his can with yours.

you sneakily turned to look at chan, who had suddenly grown silent in his conversation with seokmin. “dino-yah. are you okay?”

chan’s eyes met yours and he immediately tensed up. you noticed how white his knuckles had turned, just from gripping wooden chopsticks.

“i’m fine,” he smiled, eyes dancing over your body before he returned to his friend. your bralette was doing nothing to hide your slightly tanned skin, black shorts making your perky ass stand out even more.

dino mentally cursed soonyoung for even allowing you to wear that. but then again, his best friend was too preoccupied with his little crush to pay you any attention.

the rest of the mini barbeque was a tough time for him. the poor boy could only think about your tantalizing words to seungcheol, calling a sweet string of cusses to all the men that touched you before he ever could.

you noticed how your plan was working, hiding your smirk behind a colorful can of beer as lee chan suffered in silence.

within a few hours of outdoor activity, jun and minghao said goodnight to everyone first, tired of all the hustle and bustle. a few others followed suit, yawning and sighing.

at the end of the night greetings, you, dino, wonwoo, seungcheol, soonyoung, minji, and joshua remained near the pool. you saw how your brother kept leeching up to minji, cracking idiotic jokes under her brother's watchful eye.

"i... i think i'll head to bed now, good night guys!" you stretched up from your chair. chan's eyes followed the way your skin gleamed under the fairy lights. he gulped loudly as you purposefully swayed your hips while walking inside.

"you can follow her in, chan-ah," wonwoo smiled, shifting his gaze to the youngest momentarily. "i'll keep kwon hoshi here for a while."

"what are you on about?" dino tried to play it off, scoffing as he crunched up a beer can. wonwoo could only roll his eyes.

"it's obvious you like her, and i'm just giving you a chance to work on it. you really should tone down the staring... soonyoung would kill you if he found out, and i am willing to help you for now. so don't be an idiot and go."

smiling toothily at his hyung, dino whispered out an "i love you" before running up the stairs. he reached his room without breaking a sweat and decided to shower before doing anything.

however, when he was about to slide the door to your shared bathroom open, he heard a loud sigh coming from inside. shamelessly, chan pushed his ear against the door, curious as to what you were doing.

your sigh was followed by a small whisper that sounded like "i can't believe i'm doing this." then, chan heard a zipper being opened.

his eyes widened as he realized what you were actually doing. "no way," he mouthed to himself, feeling his boner re-emerging at a sudden squelching noise.

"mhm," you moaned behind the door, and the pervert in the next room could only imagine what you looked like. "f-fuck chan!" you whimpered, and dino felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

the towel dropped from his hand, as his fingers sneaked to the hem of his basketball shorts. with a silent groan, chan stroked his chub as his eyes squeezed shut.

he pulled his cock out, swiping at his tip with his thumb. his brain worked overtime to imagine your hand in place of his, pretty eyes staring up at him.

meanwhile, in the bathroom, you leaned against the counter as your fingers stretched open your pussy. "feels so good," you whimpered, pitch increasing as you imagined his veiny hands pumping into you.

unbeknownst to each other, you and chan had cum to the thoughts of one another that night. chan made sure to cum at the same time as you, recognizing your borderline screams as you tipped over the edge.

what a filthy girl, he thought to himself, panting as his release spurted onto the towel he had discarded.

the starting 3 full days of the trip had made you avoid lee chan like he was the plague but personified.

every glance into his eyes had made you remember what you had done on that one night, and guilt seemed to sour your mood.

everyone had decided to go to the beach after having a few afternoon drinks. you spent your time around eunseok and vernon, gossipping about office trolls and work place shenanigans.

chan was simply drinking with seungkwan and minghao, refusing to give you any attention. although he was confused as to why you were ignoring him, he remained silent and decided to give you space.

jihoon suddenly joined into his conversation, hair tied back into a messy ponytail. “dino-ah,” he smirked, snatching a shot glass from the youngest’s hand. “i hear that there’s gonna be loads of girls on the beach today. wanna check some out? we can share if you want.”

as dino downed his shot, he stared back at his hyung with a grin. “don’t you remember what happened the last time we shared a girl? we had to take her to the hospital because she passed out!”

the group laughed, reminiscing the old memory. it wasn’t odd for them to share one-night stands. the boys were family, and they strongly believed in putting each other first.

the large number of giggles near you caught your attention. you and eunseok walked over to the boys, as she queried about their conversation.

“nothing much, it was just a last minute plan in prague… god we almost got arrested,” jihoon snickered, elbowing dino’s side. the youngest could only smirk, pouring himself another shot of soju.

questions flooded your mind as you stared at the man who had you in a chokehold. dino was clad in nothing but swim shorts, his taut muscles on full display for anyone to ogle over.

as the topic changed, your curiosity got the best of you. you staggered over to seungcheol, knowing that the boy would kill to gossip.

“oh hey y/n,” he greeted you with a tilt of his beer can, sunglasses perched upon his nose.

“hi,” you settled down next to him, your can of lemon soda forgotten as your lips quivered. “you look like you want to ask me something,” he chuckled, eyes scanning your face.

“you know me so well,” you smiled, twiddling your thumbs. “i can ask you anything right?”

“yeah, sure.”

“no repercussions?”

“no repercussions.”

with a sigh, you turned to face the leader as you took in a breath. “what happened in prague?”

seungcheol nearly choked on his drink, sputtering out flicks of the liquid as he stared at you with his eyes widened behind his shades.

“of everything you could have asked… why that?” he groaned, wiping his mouth. “come on,” you whined. “jihoon said it like it sounded so fun! i just wanna know!”

with a glance around to see if anyone was looking, the leader smiled and leaned in closer to you. “we swore we would never tell this to anyone but us… but you’re family too,” he began, voice merely above a whisper.

as seungcheol tattled on about the shenanigans that the idol group had been up to, you found yourself gasping. the wild story, the borderline illegality of it all— it was too much. you squeezed your thighs together when seungcheol skimmed past the details of the night they spent.

lee chan’s eyes followed the two of you, completely misinterpreting the situation. your shuffling thighs, masked giggles and wide eyes seemed like flirting to him as he clenched his jaw, downing his shot.

why were you making this so hard for him?

it was nearly 1 in the morning when you woke up in cold sweat.

your narrow room greeted you in a greyish hue, curtains pulled back to let the moonlight in. with a sigh, you resorted to calming down, taking deep breaths as you heard the waves crashing on shore. a slight buzzing noise filled your ears. it seemed to be coming from your door, but your mind could barely focus.

your dream had completely ruined your chances of sleep. a ticket to dreamland seemed impossible as seungcheol’s words floated in your head.

i’ve never seen dino go that feral on someone before… he was insatiable.

she squirted so hard when he was done, it was a huge mess. wonwoo’s glasses got drenched-

with a sigh, you take off your sleeping shorts and toss them to the side, fingers dipping down to your core.

your hole was slicked up, a sticky mess from your vivid imagination. your index finger prodded at your entrance, making you let out a sob.

your body was frustrated, in agony. you wanted to feel chan’s touch instead of your own hands, wanted to feel him buried inside you.

you let out another pained moan, pushing your first knuckle inside your fluttering walls. however, you fail to register the sounds you have been making, and that the buzzing from the outside had suddenly stopped.

you spread your legs wider, pumping your digits inside, letting out a hurt whimper. it would never be enough.

suddenly, the door to your shared bathroom opened with a slam, and a concerned chan appeared in your doorway. “are you okay—”

the sound of his voice egged you on further, hole gushing with a fresh serving of arousal. you all but sobbed at his direction, sex induced fog clouding your brain as your fingers fastened.

“chan,” you whimpered. in the doorway, with water drenched all over his face and a can of shaving cream in his hand, lee chan groaned at the sight in front him.

“help me…” you pleaded. “oh baby,” he growled, setting the can on the floor as he walked over to you. his hands parted your thighs even further, eyes examining the mess in between your legs.

with a sharp smack, he swatted your fingers away, licking his lips at the sight of your pussy.

morals be damned. soonyoung be damned.

“look at you,” his eyes stared into your hazed ones, a hand smacking your heat. the friction had your hips bucking.

“so soaked, hmm? what were you thinking of princess?” he bit his lip. “you… always thinking of you.”

“fuck,” he groaned, tilting his head back to compose himself. “y/n,” he sighed, one of his hands cupping your face.

you leaned into his touch, lips jutted out in a pout. “tell me you want this, and it’s not just something you’d forget. tell me you want me, and i’m all yours.”

with a smile, you turn aside to place a kiss on his palm. “i’ve never wanted something more in my life, lee chan.”

that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed as he flipped you over onto your stomach, slotting himself between your legs before he discarded his sweats on the floor.

“you have no idea how patient i have been,” he grunts, manhandling you to arch your back as your ass presses against his torso.

he dips his body down, face to face with your pussy. tantalizing, he licks a stripe up your folds, making your knees buckle on the mattress.

you try to look back to see him, but its impossible to move when his hands grab your ass cheeks, forcing his mouth back on you. dino’s chin brushes against your clit as he licks at your hole with a groan.

“so wet for me already, bet i could just slide in and you’d take it.”

you can only moan his name in return, clutching the bedsheets as he ate it from the back. his tongue fucks into your folds, lapping at the arousal that drips out of you in copious amounts.

“f-fuck channie! i’m—”

before you can finish, chan is moving away from your heat. the sudden lack of his mouth has you moaning and whining like a brat.

“easy doll, i don’t want you to cum on my face right now,” he pats your ass, flipping you over to your back as you finally get a view of him.

his slick covered face dips down to meet your lips. the kiss is searing and filthy as you taste yourself on his tongue.

your hands reach for his hair, pulling him impossibly close as you suck on his tongue. using your neediness as a distraction, he quickly angles his hips and pushes his tip past your folds.

“shit!” you cuss, gasping and pulling away. in the heat of the moment, you never actually registered how obnoxiously big chan’s cock was.

as you look down to where your bodies meet, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. his fat tip exerts an experimental thrust, and the sheer stretch of his head has you whining.

“shh baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, pressing small kisses along the column of your throat. “just breathe for me?”

you inhale slowly, allowing your tense body to relax and adjust to him. dino’s attempts at distracting you do not go futile as you feel his fingers pinching your nipples. the pain in your chest makes the ache between your legs lose all meaning.

steadily, he pushes himself inside you, inch by inch entering your welcoming walls that spasm around him. when he finally bottoms out, you feel him in your gut.

this was the fullest you had ever felt. chan’s mouth licks the sweat around your breast, savouring in the salty taste.

his arms rest on either side of your head, making you relish the view. when he finally looks up, you pull him in for a kiss.

its sloppy, and his teeth clash into yours, but you could not care less. your pussy clenches around him as you pull away, nodding feverishly. “chan… if you don’t fuck me right now, i might die— hah!”

one languid thrust into you has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. his metal chain dangles on your chin, the coolness contrasting the heat that squelches down there.

chan takes full advantage of his dancer body as he pistons his hips into you. the stretch has you reeling, nails clawing down his broad back as his body leans into you.

dino’s lips find the spot on your neck, licking and sucking till red and purple bloom on your skin. his matted hair sticks to his forehead, as you turn your head to the side— the visuals becoming too much for you to handle.

you’re met with his forearm in your sight, fingers tightly gripping the bedsheets.

without a second thought, you lean forward and bit his skin, making him groan out as his cock twitches inside you.

“fu- you’re killing me baby,” he smirked, licking his lips as he forces you to look at him.

the brute force of his thrusts has your body thrashing, legs shaking with pleasure.

“feels so good channie!” you hiccup, mind cloud. the only thing you could think of was lee chan and his oh so perfect dick that was ravaging your insides.

when chan looks down, his eyes roll to the back of his head. he could see the outline of himself in your stomach, prodding out with every thrust.

a creamy and frothy ring lined the base of his cock, a testament to how your greedy cunt was sucking him in. your warm walls squeezed hard around him when one of his hands dropped down to press the bulge on your stomach.

“feel me in there, don’t ya?” he babbled, hips faltering at your vicious grip. “y-yes!” you cried out, feeling your stomach contracting.

with a loud growl, chan’s lips rest upon yours. “you close baby? can feel your greedy little cunt crying f’me,” he mumbled, licking your bottom lip.

your pathetic nods made him remove his hand from your stomach and find your clit instead, circling the bud as you mewled.

“cum for me baby, show me how much you needed this cock in you,” his eyes fluttered shut, forehead falling against yours.

“i’m cu— oh fuck,” you whimpered, suddenly feeling your orgasm rip through your body. your pussy clamped down on him, gripping his length like a fleshlight.

dino moaned in your ear about how good you felt, thrusts turning sloppy as he pressed kisses on your earlobe.

he continued to move inside you, drawing out your orgasm as he chased after his. overstimulation had tears spilling from your eyes, clawing at his pecs as you sobbed. “ ‘s too much channie! hurts!”

“just a little more baby, clench round me like that aga— FUCK!” he lost himself in you, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, milking him for all his worth as his orgasm washed over him.

in a desperate attempt, chan’s thrusts turned erratic as he pumped his load inside you. “s-so good,” he whimpered, hips stilling inside you as he softened. you groaned at the warmth, shutting your eyes in ecstasy.

you both were panting, bodies entwined in a soft caress. time seemed to still when lee chan looked into your eyes again, smiling like a lovesick puppy when you kissed him.

your mouth whined pathetically when he pulled out, falling to your side as he sighed. wanting to be close to him, you shuffled near him.

your fingers dropped down to your pussy as you tried to plug his cum inside you, moaning at the sensation of being so incredibly full and warm.

“that was… the best sex i’ve ever had, sheesh,” dino wrapped an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close.

you brought your hand up to place on his sweaty chest, giggling as he kissed the top of your head. “better than prague?” you teased.

lee chan’s pecs tensed under your hold, as his eyes widened, staring at you in the dark. “what— who told you about that!” he exclaimed, ears dusted pink.

“seungcheol’s very easy to gossip with,” you winked, staring up at his pretty face. “wow… i can’t believe this hyung,” he grumbled, hearing you laugh.

“hey! this only happened because i was thinking about everything you did to that poor girl,” you smacked his muscle, hearing him wince. “why were you so feral that night, lee chan?” you voiced your question out loud.

he sucked in a breath as his grip tightened around your shoulder. “you really want to know?”

“i’m dying from curiosity,” you mused. with a sigh, chan turned his head to face you fully, meeting your eyes in the moonlight, before he whispered out an answer.

“she had the same name as you.”

© nachojaehyun, 2024

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

[princesssae]

{But You Like Her Better}

[Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader]

In Which -> It’s the 3rd of December, so why do you see Megumi handing his sweater over to Hana Kurusu?

Word Count -> 2.4k

Authors Note -> Ever since she said “that” to Megumi, I started disliking her. But today is the 3rd of December, and it’s the PERFECT time to write this. This fic is based on Heather, by Conan Gray so I suggest listening to this song before reading! This is not apart of the Kid!Megumi series!

Warnings -> THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER THE FINAL BATTLE AGAINST SUKUNA!!!! Spoilers if you haven’t read the chapters!!! ANGSTTT, fluff at the end.

It’s cold today. You shiver and walk down the empty hall. Maybe you should ask Maki to train with you today. After all, you need to get warm. Sitting in the building with no heat is killing you. Why hasn’t anyone changed the thermostat temperature yet?

You turn around the hallway to go to the exit and there you see Megumi. What’s he doing on this side of the building? He’s usually never here. Usually, he’s always in his dorm room or out with Itadori. That brings you to your next point. Where's Yuji at? They’re usually attached at the hip after the incident. But Yuji isn't there. It's someone else.

It's blonde hair. Short, shiny, blonde hair. And there you see it. You see Megumi handing his sweater over to Kurusu Hana. She’s pretty. Prettier than you. Her eyes are as bright as the blue sky. Maybe he’s mesmerized by them. Maybe that's why he’s holding eye contact with her for so long.

“Do I hear wedding bells?” she exclaims, with her hands over her mouth. She acts like a middle school girl squealing because her crush just confessed. Maybe that’s what just happened. From here, you can tell that her cheeks are pink.

Your heart stings. This is something you definitely did not need to witness. You turn away from the scene and walk away to go to your dorm room.

She’s an angel. Literally and figuratively. Maybe that's why he likes her. He likes girls that are pretty like her. Did he know that it was the third of December?

The scene in your head, no matter how many times you replay it again and again, he was gazing into her eyes. He’s in love, isn’t he? And it's not with you, it's with her.

The next morning, you sit in the dorm living room, eating breakfast. You realize you forgot to get a drink and while you were about to get up, Hana is suddenly next to you, handing you your favorite drink. She smiles once you accept the drink. She’s so shiny.

“Here,” she says.

“Thanks,” you respond with, still in shock that she knows your favorite drink.

“Yuji told me that it’s your favorite drink,” she explains. She’s already on a first name basis with him? It took you months to be able to get comfortable with saying his first name. Maybe he likes her better, too.

“Oh, well thank you anyways,” you say and take a sip of the drink. She’s so nice.

When she walks away, you notice the choice of clothing that she’s wearing today. It’s a sweater. Megumi’s sweater, to be exact. There’s a pang in your heart but that’s okay. He wants her. It’s his choice anyway. It’s not like you ever had a chance with him.

Later that night, the group is watching a movie in the living room but you turned in, telling the group that you didn’t feel good. Maki and Nobara tagged along with you anyways, saying that they didn't wanna see Hana all over Megumi.

Having a girls night was needed. Silly face masks being used, matching pajamas being worn, and even hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows were made from the kitchen.

They know about your tiny (not really tiny) crush on Megumi. You’ve had a crush on him for so, very long. You met Megumi when he was in middle school, roughing up the bullies that ever crossed his way. Being in the same class, he knew you were getting picked on.

But for what reason? You'll never find out. It's not like you were a loner. In fact, you had a nice friend group, good grades and a good social life. Maybe they were jealous of your friends. Who knows?

Sitting on your bed, you come back to your senses and realize that Nobara and Maki are still in your room. You wait for their arguing to end to start your own story about yesterday's incident. When you get enough courage to tell them what happened yesterday, Nobara gets furious.

“Are you serious? Why did he do this?!” she exclaims out of frustration. “And yesterday out of all days? Be serious,” Nobara scoffs and crosses her arms.

She knows that Megumi doesn’t have a crush on Hana. He just feels indebted to her for saving his life. But she knows that he shouldn't have taken it that far.

Maki nods in agreement. “Yeah, I just don't think that he has the hots for her, you know?” she states, stretching her arms.

Speak of the Devil. Your phone dings and it's a message from someone. Megumi, to be exact. You pick up the phone and show your friends the notification from your home screen. When you open the message, you hear Nobara groaning in the background saying something along the lines of “boys and their obliviousness”.

Megumi <3: Are you okay? Yuji told me that you said that you didn't feel well.

Sent at 8:30 pm

You: Yeah! I'm okay. Nobara and Maki are with me.

Sent at 8:31 pm

Megumi <3: Oh okay. Just wondering why you weren't here tonight.

Sent at 8:31 pm

And that's the end of the conversation. Not like you expected anything out of it anyways. Hana’s probably on the couch, cozying up next to him. He probably has his arm around her shoulder. They probably kiss when nobody's looking. Megumi would never kiss you. She’d probably get hurt if she found out that Megumi was talking to someone when she’s right next to him.

Maybe you should change his contact name. He’s taken already, isn’t he? It wouldn’t be proper to crush on someone while they're talking to someone else. You'll do it later.

You turn off your phone and join the conversation Nobara is wildly explaining, about somebody stealing some shopping bags? You don't know, but you know that you enjoy your time with them.

A week later, all the students are at a ramen booth eating their worries away. Shoko says that it's her treat, as long as you get her a pack of cigarettes while yall are out. You're not legal enough to do it, but maybe you'll pay someone to get it for you.

At the end of your meal, when you're about to go up and pay with Shoko’s card, you're tapped on the shoulder by someone. You turn around and you're faced by someone from your middle school.

“Hey, how are you? I feel like it's been so long since we've seen each other,” your guy friend says. He was introduced to your friend group a little later than when you joined, but nevertheless, you enjoyed each other's company.

“Good, I'm doing good. How are you?” you question back.

“Good, thanks. I see a lot of new faces from your new high school. Oh, and there's Megumi. Hey Megumi, how are you doing man?” he asks. Megumi, seated from across the table, nods his head in encouragement and responds with a short answer.

Your guy friend reverts his attention back to you and the rest of the conversation goes smoothly.

When he says goodbye to you, he gives you his phone number and tells you to let him know when you're free. He wants to hang out with you, and maybe get the gang back together.

On the way back home, Nobara gets all excited. “Did you see the way he was looking at her, Maki?! He’s soooo interested,” she tells you, with her arms waving in the air ecstatically.

“Yes, yes, I saw,” Maki responds. It's vague, but you can tell she’s excited by the twinkle in her eye.

The group of guys, which include Yuji, Inumaki, Panda, Yuta and Megumi walk behind yall by a couple of steps. They’re engrossed in their own conversation, but you see Megumi’s eyes flicker towards yours before he pulls away with a frown.

What's up with him? You wonder. Maybe it's because Hana isn't here. She said that she was busy and couldn't show up tonight. It's not like you cared. But oh well, it's not your problem anymore.

It’s 9:27 pm at night when you get another message. You sort of hope that it's your friend that you recently connected with. But all your hope diminishes when you realize who it is.

Megumi <3: Come to the kitchen.

Sent at 9:27 pm

It's all he sends and you wonder if it was for someone else instead. You contemplate on going, but it's just been so awkward between the two of yall lately. So no, you decide not to go and to sleep instead. Maybe you're finally getting over your silly crush. Maki and Nobara would be proud.

There's a knock at your door. You look over at your clock and it's 3:32 am. Who is up this late at night? Another knock. Are you serious? Sleep is needed right now. You get up and open the door, fully prepared to yell at the person who was disturbing your sleep. But, it's Yuji.

He sees the look of annoyance on your face and debates on whether he should continue his speech or not. He takes the risk anyway.

“I need you to go to the living room,” he states.

“And why is that?” you ask, still obviously annoyed.

“Because! I was watching this horror movie and something moved, I swear. I ran and everyone else would yell at me! Except for you, of course,” he explains hastily. “I just wanna turn off the TV because I don't wanna hear things in my sleep and it's actually the TV noise,” he continues.

You feel bad. He’s had a living curse live inside of him and he's scared of a movie. But not any curse, the King of Curses. Maybe he has PTSD. Why would he even be watching a horror movie this late at night anyways? He doesn't like movies like that.

You give in. You tell him to get to bed while you turn off the TV. He smiles and hugs you tight. He wishes you a good night and that he’s sorry for interrupting your sleep. You grin at him in return and walk towards the living room, where the movie is playing.

When you enter the room, you don’t see a movie playing. The lights are also on. Did Yuji just lie to you? Now, you're furious. Not only did he lie to you, he woke you up at the Devil's hour just for a stupid prank.

You turn around and are about to head back to Yuji's room to give him a piece of your mind, but then you see Megumi. He’s holding two cups of hot chocolate. Tiny marshmallows are floating on top of them.

“Can we talk, please?’ He asks. He sees your shocked face. Then he sees it turns into a contemplative face. Why are you avoiding him? That hurts so much.

After a few seconds, you reply with “Why not? It would be a waste of a hot chocolate,” deciding to talk. His shoulders relax, glad that you said yes.

When you both sit on the couch, he starts the conversation. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he points out.

“Well yeah, it's awkward and I don't want anything to happen between you and Hana if she sees me together with you,” you state. You're being considerate. You wouldn't like it either if a girl kept on hanging around your boyfriend.

“Nothing happening with me and Hana,” he states.

“But you gave her your sweater,” you explain.

“I don't like her. I was just being nice. It's what Gojo would've wanted. He would've wanted me to treat everyone nicer, especially if they risked their life to save me,” he states again. What he says next is appalling.

“I don't like her, I like you,” and suddenly, Megumi can't look you in the eyes anymore. His cheeks are getting rosy and his face is turned away. You're in awe. When has he shown any interest in you? He’s always been distant and quiet around you.

“I'm not even half as pretty as she is,” you try again. Maybe this is a prank, or even better, a dream.

He looks at you again. And this is all you need to know to know that this is all real. One look in his eyes and you're enchanted. He’s also mesmerized. He likes looking into your eyes.

“You’re prettier than her. You care so much for everyone around you and I like that about you. Ever since we were in middle school, I’ve always wondered what it was like to have you as a friend. But now since I’ve felt that, I wanna know what it's like to be yours,” he finishes. His whole face is slightly pink now. Even the tips of his ears are pink.

“Okay,” you say. “Okay, let's do this, then,” you state again with more confidence in your answer.

Megumi finally exhales on that. His shoulders relax again and he's able to smile. He never smiled when Hana was around. That should’ve been a dead give away that he didn't like her.

For the next hour, you and Megumi chat. You finish the hot chocolate and laugh when he gets a milk mustache.

When you finally say good night to each other, he walks you to your dorm room and tells you that he can't wait to see you later.

Getting back in bed, you check your phone on your nightstand. It has two messages and it's from Nobara.

Nobaka: Tell Yuji to shut up, I can hear him

Sent at 3:32 am

Nobaka: DID I JUST HEAR MEGUMI’S VOICE!?!!? THIS LATE AT NIGHT?!?! YOU BETTER TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED

Sent at 4:35 am

Then you get a message from Megumi.

Megumi <3: Sleep well. And please block that guy from the ramen shop.

Sent at 4:37 am

You smile and set your phone back down on the table. Maybe December 11th isn't so bad after all to start dating Megumi Fushiguro.

Please do not copy, translate, or alter my work without my permission!

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ HIS ENGLISH LOVE AFFAIR

❛ 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳. 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘪'𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳. ❜

timeline: 2019

synopsis: What starts as playful teasing quickly spirals into something deeper, where teasing words and lingering touches lead to a line neither of them can ever uncross.

warnings: 18+ mdni, mature content, sexual content, smut, cursing, slightly slow burn, best friends to lovers, sexual tension, flirting, subtle innuendos, alcohol consumption, somewhat reckless driving, kisses!, first times, pet names, piv sex, unprotected sex (girly pop is on birth control), teasing, dirty talk, fingering, Jeonghan the menace, they are both freaky af, pure filth!

buckle up ladies and gentlemen… literally ��️‍🔥 my first ever smut!! i hope you guys love it and please please please— I cannot stress this enough— please take time to read the warnings and the disclaimer before reading! other than that… enjoy! (yes, this was inspired by ‘English Love Affair’ by 5sos, so you guys can listen to that song as you read if you want.) (also send me one-shot requests you want to see in the future!)

Disclaimer: The following chapter contains explicit sexual content and mature themes. It is intended for adult readers only. If you are under the legal age or find these subjects uncomfortable, it is advised for you to refrain from reading further. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Jeonghan had always taken pride in his composure.

He was the calm in any storm, the serene face in chaos, and the one who could hide his inner turmoil behind the effortless charm that had become his signature.

It was a skill he had honed over the years— a mask he wore with such ease that even his closest friends rarely saw beyond it. It wasn’t that he was emotionless; far from it. He felt everything deeply, but he had always mastered the art of controlling those feelings.

That was just who he was— unflappable, composed, always in control.

But that was before Luna.

The moment she stepped into his life, everything changed.

Luna had a way of breaking down his walls without even trying, a skill that no one else seemed to possess.

He could still remember the first time he saw her— those wide doe eyes filled with uncertainty as she stood in the PLEDIS practice room, the newest trainee among a sea of faces. Her nervous energy radiated off her, but there was something about her quiet determination that caught his attention.

It wasn’t just her looks or her talent, though those were undeniable.

No, it was the way she carried herself, the way she seemed to be holding a storm inside her, a storm she kept under tight control, especially during those grueling monthly evaluations. Her voice, raw and beautiful, would echo through the room, and each time, Jeonghan found himself captivated.

And then, of course, there were her smiles. The first time she smiled at him— truly smiled, not out of politeness or nerves but with genuine warmth— he felt something in him stir. It was a small thing, the way her lips curved upward, the way her eyes sparkled like she was letting him in on a secret only the two of them knew.

His heart had jumped that day, a flutter of something unfamiliar yet intoxicating, something he wasn’t used to. For a man who prided himself on control, that smile felt like a small crack in his carefully constructed armor.

But then, there was the night she confessed.

The memory of it still haunted Jeonghan even after a year or so, her voice quiet yet steady, the way her eyes, usually so bright, filled with heartbreak as he gently turned her down.

He had told her and himself it was for the team, for the sake of professionalism, but deep down, he knew the truth— it had been cowardice.

He was scared.

Scared of what it meant to feel something so intense for someone who was not only part of his world but essential to it.

And seeing the hurt in her eyes, the pain she tried so hard to mask, had been one of the hardest things he had ever done.

Now, as Jeonghan sat at the back of one of their favorite restaurants, watching the members celebrating Wonwoo’s birthday, that same ache returned, gnawing at his chest.

Luna was there, singing her pretty little heart out, a bright smile stretched across her face as she jumped up and down with the others. The room was filled with energy, everyone in high spirits as they belted out lyrics, glasses filled with alcohol raised in the air.

Their own private section, tucked away at the back of the restaurant, provided them privacy, but Jeonghan felt far from the noise as if his world had narrowed to just one person.

Luna.

Her hair flew wildly as she moved to the music, her laughter ringing out above the noise. She looked free— untethered, glowing under the dim restaurant lights, and Jeonghan couldn't help but stare. His eyes tracked her every movement, unable to look away, even though he knew he should. Her smile reached her eyes, that same real, unfiltered joy he hadn’t seen in a while.

It made his heart skip again, just like it always had.

He thought of the way she had looked at him when she confessed, the vulnerability in her eyes, and how, in this moment, she looked so different. So full of life, so happy, surrounded by people who adored her. She was singing, laughing, her body moving to the rhythm of the music, and yet all Jeonghan could do was sit there, glass in hand, silently fighting the urge to stand up and cross the room to her.

He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the glass. His heart raced as memories of the past year flooded his mind— how he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since that night, how he had been too afraid to face his own feelings, and how, even now after a year, watching her from afar, the same fear still lingered in his chest.

But this time, something was different. Something had shifted. The control he had always taken such pride in was slipping, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop it.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, the cool wood pressing against his back as he watched Luna across the room. He had always been composed, always the one in control, but ever since he realized he was indeed falling for her, his determination to fix things between them had only grown stronger.

He had spent the past year trying to return to normal, to recapture the easy friendship they once shared before the night she had confessed and he had rejected her.

And they had succeeded— there was no bad blood, no awkward tension. They laughed and joked as they always had, nothing between them felt forced or strained.

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

But that was what scared him the most.

Was this ease a sign that Luna had moved on? Or was she still pretending, masking her feelings as she always had, waiting for him to make the next move?

Jeonghan didn’t know if he should feel relieved or terrified by the prospect.

This past year, since his own realization, he had been more open about his feelings. He wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. He had been more touchy, letting his hands linger on her arm a second longer than necessary. He had been more clingy, finding reasons to stand close to her during practice or sit beside her at meals. And he had been flirting, playfully teasing her with lines that bordered on genuine affection.

Jeonghan had never denied her anything— anything she asked for, she got.

It hadn’t taken long for Luna to notice.

She wasn’t stupid; she was cautious, of course. She still had feelings for him— Jeonghan could see it in the way her gaze would linger on him, the slight quirk of her lips whenever he said something that surprised her— but she was guarded now.

She wasn’t about to let her heart get broken again.

Yet, despite her caution, Jeonghan could tell she was intrigued by his bolder approach, even drawn to it.

Luna was a little petty, too— he could see it in the way she played along, letting him dote on her, waiting to see where he would take things. She wanted him to work for it, and he couldn���t blame her. He had hurt her, and now he had to prove that he was serious.

Tonight, she looked like a vision, and Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Luna was dressed in a sleek black leather jacket that gleamed under the restaurant lights, cinched at the waist with silver studs. Beneath it, she wore a simple white tee, tucked into high-waisted black shorts that hugged her curves in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. Her legs, long and slender, were clad in sheer black tights, the material shimmering slightly as she moved, and her feet were adorned in knee-high black boots that gave her an edgy, dangerous air. A thin scarf, sequined and sparkling, was loosely tied around her neck, and her hair, an ashy grey color and wavy, cascaded over her shoulders, wild and free.

Her makeup was minimal, but it highlighted her features perfectly, bringing out the depth of her dark-brown eyes, the shape of her cheekbones, and the curve of her plump lips.

With everything else muted, her beauty shone brighter than ever. Jeonghan took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing pulse.

Jeonghan’s gaze raked over her form, slowly, deliberately, as he raised his glass to his lips and took another shot.

He tried to savor the taste, the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat, but all he could think about was her. He avoided drinking too much— he had driven to the restaurant tonight and needed to stay clear-headed— but his senses were already clouded by something much stronger than alcohol.

Luna.

Every fiber of his being was filled with her. She was all he could see as she danced, laughing and twirling with Hoshi, Dokyeom, and Seungkwan. Her laughter rang in his ears like a melody, her voice clear and bright as she sang along to the music, her body moving effortlessly to the beat.

Her perfume— sweet and expensive— lingered in the air around him, wrapping him in her scent, a constant reminder of her presence. He watched as her hand brushed against his arm, a fleeting, accidental touch as she spun past him, but it was enough to set his skin ablaze. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to focus, trying to steady the racing in his chest, but all he could feel was her.

Her energy, her warmth, her light.

There was only one thing missing.

Taste.

Jeonghan rolled the lingering flavor of the alcohol over his tongue, but it was becoming increasingly unsatisfying, especially as his gaze landed on the pink lollipop tucked between Luna’s lips.

She twirled it absentmindedly as she danced, the candy disappearing and reappearing from between her soft lips.

A pang of frustration swelled inside him as he watched, his mind drifting to thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be entertaining— not here, not now. But the longer he watched her, the more his control began to slip.

Soon, Luna finally separated from the whirlwind of dancing, her energy visibly spent, and finally peeled herself away from Hoshi, Seungkwan, and Dokyeom, who were still bouncing around like maniacs with boundless energy. Their bodies moved in sync with the beat, wild and free as if they were drawing energy from some endless well.

She stole one last glance at them, shaking her head with a smile as they flailed their arms in exaggerated dance moves.

Luna, however, had reached her limit. She could feel her heart racing, her legs trembling from the exertion, and her skin was glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Her own legs felt like jelly after keeping up with them for what felt like hours, her chest heaving slightly as she tried to catch her breath.

She laughed to herself as she made her way back to their table, where the rest of the members were seated, the ones who had wisely opted to sit back and enjoy the chaos rather than join in.

Jeonghan’s eyes hadn’t left her for a second. He watched the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the glisten of sweat along her neck, the lollipop twirling between her fingers.

As Luna approached, Seungcheol looked up, his gaze landing on her as he pointed and chuckled. “Tired already?” His voice held a teasing edge.

Luna plopped down into her seat next to Jeonghan, letting out an exaggerated sigh as she pulled the lollipop out of her mouth and pointed toward the trio still dancing like maniacs. “I don’t know how those three do it. That was my limit,” she chuckled, her voice breathless yet light.

The group chuckled softly as they watched Seungkwan throw his head back in wild laughter and Hoshi twist his body with far too much enthusiasm. Dokyeom’s arms were flailing in an exaggerated dance move, oblivious to the stares they were attracting.

“Those three could keep going for hours,” Vernon muttered, shaking his head as he looked over at them.

Luna let out a small, tired laugh, and as she settled into her seat, she felt Jeonghan’s presence beside her.

Jeonghan’s eyes were still locked on her, though. Everything else in the room seemed muted, the voices of their friends blending into the background. He admired the way her skin glowed under the soft lights of the restaurant, how her ash grey hair clung to her slightly damp neck from all the dancing.

Every inch of her was so effortlessly captivating.

He hadn’t stopped watching her since she sat down. His gaze was unrelenting, but not in a way that made her uncomfortable— rather, it was the kind of stare that seemed to pierce through all her usual defenses, a soft intensity that always left her feeling exposed.

Before she could think too much about it, Seungcheol, the ever-diligent leader, straightened up and glanced at the time on his phone. His expression shifted slightly, taking on that familiar responsible tone he always wore when it was time to get serious.

“We’ve been here for three hours,” he announced, his voice cutting through the noise just enough for the group to hear him. “It's late and we have work tomorrow. Plus, I think three hours of dancing is enough for one night.” He cast a glance toward the still-energetic trio with a knowing smirk.

The rest of the group groaned lightly but nodded in agreement. Seungcheol was right, as always. No matter how much fun they were having, they had responsibilities waiting for them in the coming days as they continued to prepare for their comeback with their new song ‘HIT’ next month.

As the leader gathered everyone, Luna, still catching her breath, felt Jeonghan’s presence beside her, his warmth radiating through the small space between them. It wasn’t just his proximity, though— there was something electric about how quiet he had been, his intense gaze fixated solely on her.

It was hard not to blush under his gaze— how long had he been watching her? But then again, she didn't mind being the center of his attention.

She could feel it, a tension in the air that wasn’t there before, and it made her skin tingle.

While Seungcheol was busy with the rest of the members, Jeonghan turned his attention back to Luna, his eyes softening as he leaned just a little closer to her. “You looked like you were having fun out there,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, that familiar lilt in his tone that always seemed to make her stomach do a tiny flip.

Luna huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I was. Until I couldn’t feel my legs anymore,” she replied, her own voice quieter now as the noise around them seemed to dim slightly.

Jeonghan’s smile deepened, a small chuckle escaping him. “Pushing yourself too hard again?” he cooed softly, his voice dropping into that smooth, almost condescending tone he often used when he was in full dote-on-Luna mode.

It wasn’t harsh; it was gentle like he was speaking to a child who didn’t know their limits yet.

Luna rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Someone had to keep up with Dokyeomie, and you certainly weren’t volunteering,” she shot back, her tone light but with a teasing edge.

Jeonghan’s eyes glinted with amusement, his hand coming to rest on the back of her chair. The casual gesture sent a shiver of warmth through her, but she kept her expression neutral.

“I’m just smart enough to know my limits,” he said smoothly, his voice dropping into a quieter, more intimate tone. “Unlike someone.”

She could feel the tension simmering between them— subtle, unspoken, but undeniably present. The way he was looking at her, the way his voice seemed to dip into that soft, almost velvety tone whenever he spoke to her— it was enough to make her heart race slightly faster, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“You’re always so full of wisdom,” she teased, letting out a small, tired laugh.

Jeonghan chuckled softly, his gaze dropping to her lips for the briefest second before meeting her eyes again. “You should listen to me more often,” he murmured, his voice now so low it was almost a whisper. “I only have your best interests at heart, Jiyeonie.”

"Mhm, I'm fine." Luna playfully rolled her eyes at him which Jeonghan caught considering he hadn't taken his eyes off her yet.

Jeonghan carefully eyed her seat and reached for the base and with one quick tug, he pulled her closer before turning his head slightly, his voice smooth and low as he leaned just a bit closer to her, his breath brushing against the shell of her ear. “Say whatever you want but you seem to have a hard time keeping up with them, Nana-ya,” he teased, his tone both condescending and affectionate, his words laced with a quiet, teasing chuckle.

He used that familiar pet name, one that made her heart skip in ways she tried to ignore.

Luna scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “I was keeping up just fine, thank you very much.”

“Mm, sure you were.” Jeonghan’s voice was soft, but it was filled with amusement as he slowly turned toward her, his body shifting so he was facing her more directly.

His eyes gleamed mischievously, a spark of playful intent. “You should take care of yourself, hm? You should let me take care of you more,” he cooed softly, his tone dipping into that dangerously low, smooth register that always made her stomach twist.

Jeonghan wasn’t looking at her like a friend, not anymore, and it made her blood run warmer.

He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against the side of her face as he spoke. His tone was so soft, so intimate, it made her heart race even though the words themselves were teasing.

The way he said it, like she was something fragile, something precious that needed looking after— it was disarming.

Luna raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in her seat as if to regain some distance, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. “You'll take care of me?” she repeated, her voice challenging but soft.

Jeonghan leaned in closer, his face just inches from hers now. The scent of his cologne— earthy, slightly musky, and so distinctly him— filled her senses.

“Since you’ve clearly been overexerting yourself. In practice too, you've been overworking yourself,” he said in that smooth, deep tone, his fingers lightly brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face, his touch feather-light yet deliberate. “You know how I hate seeing you tired, Jiyeonie.”

The way he spoke, the way his voice dropped into something so soft and intimate, made Luna’s pulse quicken. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, his eyes drinking in every detail of her face as if she were the only thing that mattered in the entire room.

The others were still laughing, still packing up, but to Jeonghan, none of it existed. There was only her.

Luna swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, though she fought to keep her composure. She knew him too well— knew that behind the teasing, there was something deeper. Something simmering beneath the surface.

“You’re really laying it on thick tonight, Han,” she teased back, her voice a bit quieter now, the nickname slipping out before she could stop herself. “Are you worried about me?”

Jeonghan eyes darkened slightly, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile as his gaze flickered down to her lips before slowly meeting her eyes again. “I always worry about you,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper now, intimate and deep.

His words hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken tension, the kind that made Luna’s breath catch in her throat.

She was drawn to it, to him, even though every rational part of her brain screamed at her to keep her guard up. But Jeonghan had a way of getting under her skin, making her want things she knew she shouldn’t.

Before she could reply, his hand brushed against hers, just a light, fleeting touch, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity through her. She glanced down at their hands, the small contact sending her heart racing, but when she looked back up at him, his eyes were still fixed on hers, unrelenting, waiting.

“You’ve been acting strange lately,” she finally said, her voice quieter now, as if the weight of the moment was pressing down on her.

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Strange? I thought I was always like this with you.” His tone was playful, but there was a seriousness behind his words, a truth he wasn’t ready to say outright.

Luna narrowed her eyes at him, though her lips twitched into a small smile. “No, you haven’t. Not like this.” She paused, her voice dropping lower, more serious. “What changed, Jeonghan?”

Luna knew what changed... she just wanted to hear it come out of his mouth… she needed to hear it.

The tension between them thickened, palpable, both of them fully aware of what wasn’t being said.

Before she could respond, their conversation was interrupted by the sudden noise of Seungcheol calling everyone to gather up. The leader’s voice cut through the moment like a knife, and Luna could feel the tension between her and Jeonghan dissipate as reality sank back in.

Jeonghan leaned back slightly, his hand still resting on the back of her chair as he gave her a small, knowing smile. “Looks like we’re being summoned,” he said softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

The rest of the group began to gather their things, Seungcheol rounding everyone up with the ease of someone used to managing chaos. Hoshi, Seungkwan, and Dokyeom finally stopped their dancing, though they were still buzzing with energy as they made their way over to the group.

“Come on,” Jeonghan murmured, standing up from his seat and offering Luna’s hand.

She took it without hesitation, letting him help her up from the chair, her legs still slightly wobbly from all the dancing. As they made their way to the exit, saying goodbye to everyone as they prepared to head home, Jeonghan kept close to her side.

They exchanged quiet goodbyes with the other members, Seungcheol reminding everyone to get some rest before they had to jump back into work the next day.

Once the farewells were done, Jeonghan gently guided Luna toward his car. “Come on,” he said softly, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back as he led her through the parking lot. “I didn’t drink much, I’ll drive us back.”

The air between them felt heavier now, quieter, as if the rest of the world had faded into the background, leaving only the two of them.

Luna didn’t protest as they reached his car, slipping into the passenger seat as Jeonghan closed the door behind her. The sound of the car door shutting felt final like they were cocooned in their own little world now, separated from the noise and energy of the night.

Jeonghan slid into the driver’s seat and started the car, the low hum of the engine filling the silence. As they pulled out of the parking lot, the city lights reflecting off the windows, the tension that had been simmering between them earlier seemed to settle back in, quiet but palpable.

The hum of the car engine blended with the soft pattern of rain beginning to fall against the windshield. The city lights blurred as droplets streaked across the glass, casting soft reflections inside the car. It was a peaceful silence but charged, like the calm before a storm. Everything felt heightened in this small space— the closeness, the warmth, the electricity between them that neither could ignore.

Luna had leaned back, her eyes lazily scanning the passing scenery as she twirled the lollipop in her mouth. Jeonghan’s hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, his focus on the road, but his attention clearly elsewhere.

Finally, Jeonghan broke the silence, his voice soft but cutting through the quiet like the first crack of thunder. “You really do push yourself too hard,” he murmured, the tone carrying both amusement and concern. He glanced sideways at her, just for a second, catching the way her lips tugged into a smile.

Luna turned her head to face him, the corners of her mouth lifting into a playful smirk. “You sound like a broken record,” she teased lightly, her voice tinged with laughter. “Have you forgotten you told me that already, or have you just got nothing new to say?”

Jeonghan chuckled a deep sound that filled the quiet car. “I’m just reminding you,” he said, his gaze flicking toward her briefly before returning to the road. “Someone has to take care of you.”

Luna snorted softly, shaking her head. “I think I’m doing fine. You should worry about yourself.”

“Me?” Jeonghan’s eyebrows lifted in mock offense. “I’m perfect.”

Luna rolled her eyes, the lollipop making a soft clack as she pulled it out of her mouth and pointed it at him. “You and your ego, I swear. If your head gets any bigger, you’ll need to get a bigger car.”

Jeonghan let out a soft laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Please, Jiyeonie, you like it.”

She shot him a playful glare but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “You think you know me so well.”

“I do,” he said confidently, his tone casual yet carrying a weight behind it. “I know you push yourself because you hate being the first to give up. You’d rather collapse than admit you’re tired.”

Luna blinked, surprised at how easily he’d read her, though she shouldn’t have been. Jeonghan always had a way of seeing through her, peeling back layers without even trying. She shrugged, trying to play it off. “Maybe.”

The rain started coming down heavier, drumming against the roof. The windshield wipers moved in a steady rhythm, slicing through the water, but it did nothing to cut through the thickening tension between them.

“You don’t have to impress anyone, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan said quietly, his tone softer now, more sincere. “Not even me.”

Luna felt a warmth spread through her at his words, but she masked it with a grin. “Who says I’m trying to impress you?”

Jeonghan glanced at her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Oh, so it’s just me then?”

Luna scoffed, crossing her arms. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Jeonghan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Too late.”

Luna groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Why do I even bother talking to you?”

“Because you love me,” he said simply, the teasing tone never leaving his voice.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

There was a pause in their conversation, a lull filled by the steady rhythm of rain against the windshield. The city lights blurred past them, casting soft reflections across Luna’s face, her features illuminated in a soft, almost ethereal glow

Jeonghan wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it— maybe it was the lingering effect of the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t help himself—but the words slipped out before he could stop himself.

“Have I told you that you look beautiful today?” Jeonghan asked, his tone casual as he changed the topic, almost too casual for the weight those words carried.

Luna’s head turned toward him, her eyebrows raising in surprise, though a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She pulled the lollipop from her mouth, twirling it between her fingers as she gave him a teasing look. “I don’t think you have,” she replied, her voice light, playful. “Is that something you’re just realizing now?”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, I’ve known it all night,” he said smoothly, his voice dipping into that soft, dangerously teasing tone he often used with her. “I just didn’t get around to saying it until now.”

Luna leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs as she twirled the lollipop stick absentmindedly. “Well, thank you for your delayed observation,” she said with a mock-serious nod. “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of time to admire me while I was dancing.”

He smiled, not denying it. “Trust me, I’ve been doing more than admiring.” His eyes glinted with mischief, though his voice remained steady and calm, the type of calm that made her heart skip a beat.

Luna rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help the warmth that spread across her cheeks. She looked out the window to hide the smile threatening to break across her face. “Always so smooth, Hannie.”

“You love it when I’m smooth,” he replied, his voice dipping lower, softer, as he glanced at her again. There was something different in his gaze this time—something that made the air between them feel heavier, more charged.

Luna’s smile faded slightly, though not from discomfort. There was something in the way he was looking at her, something that made her pulse quicken despite herself. She didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to stare out at the rain as it blurred against the glass, her mind racing with thoughts she had tried to push aside for a long time.

Luna knew this game.

She knew how Jeonghan flirted— it was playful, light, teasing, always with a little smirk and a sparkle in his eyes. He had flirted with her before more so these last couple of months and she had always brushed it off, played along, knowing it didn’t mean anything.

But tonight felt different. There was something in the way his eyes lingered on her, the way his voice dropped into that dangerously low tone whenever he spoke to her. It made her stomach twist in ways that scared her.

She told herself it was just him being Jeonghan, that he hadn’t changed, that this was just how he was. But deep down, she couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted between them. She had seen it in the way he looked at her tonight, had felt it in the way he hovered near her during the party, the way his fingers brushed hers when he helped her out of her chair earlier.

It wasn’t just friendly. It was something more, something heavier, something that made her chest tighten with a mix of hope and fear.

And yet… Luna couldn’t help herself.

She was drawn to it, drawn to him.

Even though she had promised herself she wouldn’t let her heart win again, even though she had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t let her guard down, she was losing the battle.

It was impossible to resist Yoon Jeonghan, especially when he looked at her like she was the only person in the room— he had a way of making her feel like the center of his universe, even when he was surrounded by others.

It was intoxicating.

Dangerous.

But Bae Jiyeon was drawn to it all the same.

She knew she shouldn’t.

She knew it was risky, that letting herself fall again would only lead to heartache.

But as she sat there, feeling his eyes on her, feeling the warmth of his presence beside her, she wondered if maybe— just maybe— she was willing to take that risk again.

“You’re such a flirt. In fact, you’re bolder than normal,” Luna allowed herself to chuckle.

Jeonghan's fingers tightened on the steering wheel for a moment as her words lingered between them.

Where had this sudden boldness come from?

He didn't know.

Sure, he flirted, teased, and bantered with Luna— it was their dynamic, the rhythm they’d fallen into after years of knowing each other.

But something about these past few months and more so tonight felt different.

Maybe it was the few drinks he’d had earlier, loosening his inhibitions just enough to say the things he’d been holding back. Or maybe it was desperation, the realization that he had been skirting around his feelings for far too long.

Maybe it was because they were alone, away from the rest of the group, the tension between them simmering just beneath the surface.

Maybe it was the way she looked tonight and every day— beautiful, radiant like she didn’t even realize the effect she had on him.

Maybe it was just her.

Maybe it had always been her.

He had always been good at hiding his emotions, at keeping things under wraps, but with Luna… it was different.

She had a way of breaking through his defenses without even trying. He could still remember the way she looked at him when she confessed last year— the heartbreak in her eyes when he rejected her. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he had. And he’d been thinking about it ever since.

Or maybe it was the fact that he was tired of pretending he didn’t feel something for her, something more than friendship.

He had spent so long avoiding this, avoiding her, because he was scared. Scared of what it would mean if he admitted to himself that he had feelings for her.

But sitting here, in this small, quiet space with the rain falling softly around them, he felt like he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He was drawn to her— had always been drawn to her— but tonight, it was different.

Whatever it was, he was allowing himself to be a little reckless.

The rain intensified, the rhythmic sound growing louder as they drove through the quiet streets back to the dorm. The world outside the car was dark and blurred, but inside, the tension was so thick it felt like something tangible.

Every second they spent in this small, enclosed space made the air feel heavier, more charged. Jeonghan could feel it in every breath, in every glance she threw his way.

Tonight, he was ready to risk it.

He wasn’t sure how he had managed to keep himself in check for so long, because right now, all he wanted was her.

Jeonghan cleared his throat, his voice dropping lower as he spoke. “You know, I wasn’t lying when I said you look beautiful. I wasn’t just saying that to flatter you,” he murmured, his tone soft but deliberate. “You really do look beautiful tonight.”

“Mm… thank you,” Luna said as she shifted in her seat slightly, pulling her legs up underneath her as she leaned against the car door.

Jeonghan glanced at her again, his heart skipping a beat when he saw her looking back at him and for a moment, he was gone. She was smiling softly, her eyes bright despite the late hour, her lips still stained from the lollipop she had been playing with all night.

And in that moment, Jeonghan realized he was a goner.

Completely and utterly lost.

The way she looked bathed in the faint glow of the dashboard lights, her lips curling around her words, her eyes dancing with mischief. The subtle scent of her perfume filled the car, a warm and intoxicating mix that tugged at his senses.

Luna was talking, her voice a tantalizing melody yet Jeonghan couldn’t make out what she was saying— he was…. completely and utterly lost. And then, her hand— the gentle, casual touch as she caressed his shoulder while she talked, sending a jolt through his chest like a spark had just ignited something inside him.

How was he supposed to concentrate on driving when every part of him was tuned into her?

Jeonghan realized, with a sudden, amused thought, that there were a few things you absolutely shouldn’t do while driving: use your phone, be drunk, speed recklessly… and have Bae Jiyeon sitting in your passenger seat.

It was dangerous.

The kind of danger that made him wonder if he was more likely to crash the car from being so utterly distracted by her.

Jeonghan’s grip on the wheel tightened as he forced himself to focus on the road ahead. But then he glanced at her again, and his breath caught for a second.

Luna was watching him— no, she was staring at him with a smug look in her eyes, as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

Of course, she knew. She always knew.

That smugness in her expression, the way her lips twitched as if she was enjoying watching him squirm— it was maddening.

Luna was enjoying this. Petty as she could be, she was reveling in the way he was slowly unraveling under her gaze.

And just like that, Luna decided to throw all of her fucks out the window.

“Am I going to be the cause of our collective demise once you crash this car?” Luna chuckled as she addressed Jeonghan’s focus on her despite driving.

“You think this is funny?” he muttered, his voice low, laced with that familiar teasing edge. He didn’t even try to hide the amusement in his tone, despite the frustration simmering underneath.

Luna twirled the lollipop in her mouth, the little pink candy rotating lazily as she continued to stare at him, her eyes glinting mischievously.

She didn’t even bother to answer him— just smirked and leaned back in her seat as if she had already won this silent game they were playing.

There was something in the way she was looking at him now— something deeper than just their usual playful banter. He could feel the heat of her gaze, the way her eyes seemed to trace over him as if she was daring him to do something.

The tension was unbearable, every word they exchanged adding to the weight of it.

Jeonghan knew, at that moment, that any shred of morality or self-restraint he had left was being thrown out the window.

He couldn’t help himself anymore, not when she was looking at him like that, not when every nerve in his body was on fire from just being near her.

He glanced at her again, and this time, he didn’t hold back the flirtation in his voice. “Nana-ya…” he started, his tone smooth, dangerously soft. “If you keep looking at me like that, we might have a problem.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming with challenge as she continued to twirl the lollipop in her mouth. “Oh?” she murmured, feigning innocence, though the glint in her eyes told him she was anything but. “And what kind of problem would that be?”

Jeonghan’s eyes flicked toward her briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “The kind where I stop caring about the road entirely and start caring about something else.”

The implication hung in the air between them, thick with the tension neither of them was willing to fully acknowledge yet.

Luna giggled, leaning back against the seat, twirling the lollipop between her fingers like she was playing with the moment. “You’re such a flirt, Hannie,” she said, shaking her head slightly. Her voice was light, but there was a warmth there, something knowing as if she was fully aware of the effect she had on him.

“And you love it,” Jeonghan shot back, his tone a mix of teasing and certainty.

He wasn’t even asking— it was a fact between them.

Luna tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe I do,” she admitted, licking her lips as she discarded the stick. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. “Too late,” he cooed, his voice slipping into that condescending tone again, the one he knew always made her roll her eyes. “I think you like it when I tease you, Jiyeonie.”

She glanced at him from the side, the soft glow from the dashboard lights catching in her eyes. “And I think you talk too much,” she retorted, though her smile betrayed her.

“Do I?” Jeonghan’s voice dipped lower, softer, almost a whisper as he added, “I think you like it when I talk to you like this.”

Luna shifted in her seat, crossing her arms and giving him a side-eye. “You think a lot of things, don’t you?”

He grinned at her defiance, leaning slightly toward her as he replied, “And I’m usually right, aren’t I?”

Luna let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she watched the rain streak across the windshield. “You’re impossible.”

“Mm,” Jeonghan hummed, his voice a lazy drawl. “But you’re still here.”

“Who would you gawk at if I wasn’t?” Luna smirked.

The rain picked up, soft at first, then heavier, drumming on the windshield in rhythm with Jeonghan's increasingly erratic thoughts. The world outside was blurred, the soft streetlights hazy in the downpour, but inside the car, the tension was palpable.

Jeonghan's fingers tightened around the steering wheel as if holding on for dear life, not because of the rain, but because of the woman sitting next to him, practically radiating smug confidence.

Luna's presence was overwhelming, and the teasing glint in her eyes felt like a challenge he wasn't sure he could resist.

Her fingers idly twirled the lollipop in her mouth. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, and the maddening part was how much she was enjoying every second of it. Her smirk, and her playfulness all gnawed at him in the best and worst ways possible.

Everything about her posture screamed cat-that-got-the-canary— as if she knew exactly how close Jeonghan was to cracking.

If only he knew what would happen if he did.

“Brat,” Jeonghan let out a sharp breath through his nose, trying to focus on the road ahead, though it was becoming increasingly impossible. Every glance her way made his pulse quicken, made the frustration in him grow.

And then, without thinking, his hand left the wheel.

It was quick, almost instinctual, like gravity had pulled him toward her. His palm landed on her thigh-firm, commanding-sending a jolt of heat up her leg. His fingers splayed against the soft fabric of her sheer black tights, the warmth of her skin radiating through the material. His touch was possessive, but his grip remained gentle as if he was testing the boundaries, daring her to stop him.

Luna's breath hitched, just slightly, but she didn't push his hand away. Instead, she shifted in her seat, just enough to press into his touch, amplifying the tension that had already settled thickly between them.

Her eyes flicked down to where his hand rested, then back up to his face, and she bit her lower lip, a smirk still tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Hannie," she practically purred, her voice sweet but laced with mischief. "Is that really the safest thing to do while driving?"

Jeonghan's fingers flexed against her thigh, a slow, deliberate movement that made her feel the weight of his touch even more. He tilted his head toward her, eyes dark and heavy-lidded, the playful tone from before replaced with something deeper, something more intense. His voice came out in a low, velvety murmur.

"Safe?" he repeated, his lips curling into a dangerous smile. "I am holding onto you for safety, Jiyeonie."

Luna's eyes glimmered with challenge, her heartbeat quickening, though she'd never let him know it. She leaned in slightly, her hand drifting toward his arm, her fingertips brushing against his wrist where it rested on her leg. Her voice was just as teasing, if not more, as she shot back, "You seem awfully distracted for someone who's supposed to be focused on the road."

Jeonghan chuckled under his breath, the sound soft and low, the kind of laugh that sent a shiver down her spine. "I am distracted," he admitted, his thumb now tracing a lazy circle on her thigh. His eyes darted from the road back to her, his gaze heavy with desire. "You're not exactly helping, pretty girl."

Luna's lips curved into a smirk, one that practically dared him to go further. "Focus, Hannie," she teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jeonghan shot her a look, one eyebrow raised, clearly amused by her brattiness.

"I’m focused," he said smoothly, his voice dropping even lower. He squeezed her thigh slightly, his fingers pressing in just enough to make her gasp, though it was clear from the look in her eyes that she loved it.

The rain continued to pour, the rhythmic sound of droplets against the windshield only adding to the charged atmosphere inside the car. The world outside was quiet, but inside, the storm between them was brewing, and neither of them seemed interested in calming it.

Luna's heartbeat quickened as she shifted in her seat again, crossing her legs, which only served to push his hand higher up her thigh. She gave him a sideways glance, the corner of her mouth lifting in a taunting smile. "Big talk for someone who's barely keeping his eyes on the road."

Jeonghan's jaw clenched slightly, though there was no anger behind it— just the overwhelming desire to wipe that smug look off her face. He could feel the heat rising between them, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

But God, did he love it.

There was something about the way Luna teased him, the way she pushed and pushed until he was at the edge of his control. And maybe that was why he never stopped her. Maybe he wanted her to push him past his limits. Maybe he wanted to see just how far he could fall before losing himself completely

Without thinking, his hand slid further up her thigh, his fingertips brushing against the seam of her shorts, the movement slow, deliberate, teasing. His voice was a soft purr as he spoke, his lips barely moving.

"Do you really want to keep testing me, Bae Jiyeon?"

Luna let out a soft, breathy laugh, her lips curling into a devilish smile. "Why not?" she shot back, her voice playful but challenging. "It's fun watching you angry. I rarely get to see you even remotely pissed off.”

Jeonghan's grip tightened ever so slightly, his fingers digging into her skin, but the way his eyes darkened told her everything she needed to know. He was close— so close to giving in to whatever dangerous game they were playing. His thumb brushed lightly against the inside of her thigh, a barely-there touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

The car slowed as they neared finally reached the dorm, the streetlights casting long shadows on the wet pavement. The rain had picked up, turning into a torrential downpour, the sound of it filling the space between them.

But the tension— the crackling, electrifying tension-remained. Neither of them said a word as Jeonghan pulled into the parking lot, the engine's hum cutting off as he switched off the ignition before removing his seatbelt.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the rain hammering against the roof of the car, the only sound between them. Jeonghan's hand still rested on her thigh, his grip firm but not uncomfortable. He turned to face her, his eyes dark and unreadable as they locked onto hers.

Luna met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. The playful banter was gone, replaced by something heavier, something far more dangerous. Her pulse raced as she waited, the silence between them thick with anticipation.

And then, without a word, Jeonghan leaned in. His breath was warm against her skin, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers as he whispered, "Do you know you make me go insane?”

Luna's breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering in her chest. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, she just stared at him, her pulse quickening as she felt the heat of his body so close to hers.

Jeonghan's eyes flicked down to her lips, then back up to her eyes, a slow smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "But I think you already knew that, didn't you?"

Luna swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper as she replied, "Maybe. But I like hearing you say it."

Jeonghan's smile widened, his hand tightening ever so slightly on her thigh as he whispered, "Then I'll say it as many times as you want."

Luna's breath hitched, her pulse racing as she felt the tension between them reach its breaking point. But before either of them could say another word, the sound of the rain grew louder, drowning out everything else.

And in that moment, it wasn't the storm outside that threatened to consume them— it was the storm brewing between them, one that neither of them seemed willing to stop.

Jeonghan's breath was hot against Luna's face, his voice dropping into that intoxicating whisper that sent shivers racing up her spine. "What else do you want to hear me say, hm?"

His lips hovered dangerously close to hers, his words soft but laced with that infuriating, devastating sweetness that he always seemed to use to unravel her.

Luna sat frozen in her seat, the weight of his gaze holding her captive as her heart pounded wildly in her chest.

She couldn't speak.

Couldn't move.

She could only stare back at him, helpless beneath the intensity in his eyes, the heat of his breath against her skin making her dizzy.

And Jeonghan noticed it all.

The way she was falling apart under him, the way her lips parted just slightly but no words came out, the way her chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath.

It made him smirk, that familiar, cocky smile that she loved and hated at the same time.

He knew what he was doing to her. He always did.

He took pride in being the only one to make the big, bad, and confident Bae Jiyeon crumble.

His hand slid from her thigh to her cheek, his fingers brushing against her skin with such a delicate touch, as though he were savoring the moment, every second of it.

His thumb grazed her bottom lip, sending a jolt of electricity straight through her body.

"Wanna hear how breathtaking you are?" Jeonghan's voice was soft, teasing, but there was something darker underneath— something deeper. "How much I love hearing your voice?" His fingers tangled in her hair as his thumb stroked her jaw. "How sweet you smell, Jiyeonie?"

Speechless.

Luna was utterly speechless.

“Anything. I’ll say anything for you, however much you want, pretty angel. Just tell me.”

Jeonghan said it all in that baby-talk voice that always drove her crazy, soft and low and teasing. The tone wrapped around her like a warm blanket, lulling her into a state of pure intoxication. Every word felt like a caress, every breath of his like a temptation.

He was ruining her, and he knew it.

Luna couldn't help herself. She leaned back against the door of the car, her head resting on the window as she stared at him, mesmerized. His fingers trailed through her hair, and his eyes were dark, filled with something she couldn't quite place— scanned every inch of her face, lingering on her lips.

She didn't know how it had come to this.

How she had gone from playful banter to this suffocating, unrelenting tension that made her feel like she was on the edge of something dangerous, something that once started, neither of them could take back.

But maybe she didn't want to take it back.

Jeonghan leaned in closer, his lips inches from hers as he tilted his head, his gaze dropping to the lollipop stick still hanging from her mouth. "Always wanted to know what it tastes like," he murmured, his voice smooth, almost playful.

For a split second, a dumb part of Luna thought he meant the lollipop itself, and her mind raced to think of a witty comeback. But before she could say anything, Jeonghan's hand reached up, gently pulling the stick from her lips, his eyes never leaving hers.

And then, without another word, his fingers caught her chin between them, holding her still as he leaned in closer.

It happened so quickly and so slowly all at once. One second, he was hovering in front of her, teasing her with the nearness of his lips. The next, his mouth was on hers, capturing her in a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs and sent her heart into a freefall.

The first touch of his lips against hers was soft, and tentative, like he was testing the waters. But then, when he felt her lips part beneath his when he heard the soft, almost inaudible gasp that escaped her— he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of her neck as he pulled her closer.

For years, they had danced around this moment. Years of stolen glances, of teasing words and almost-touches. Years of denying what they both knew was there, simmering beneath the surface, too dangerous to acknowledge.

But now, with the rain pouring down around them, the car windows fogging up from the heat of their breath, and the tension that crackled between them like electricity— there was no more denying it.

Jeonghan's lips moved against hers with a softness that belied the intensity of the feelings that had been building up inside him for so long. His fingers tangled in her hair, tugging gently as his other hand slid down her neck, caressing the skin there before resting just above her collarbone.

Luna's mind was a blur, her thoughts spinning as she melted into him, her body reacting instinctively to the heat of his touch. She had imagined this moment so many times— late at night, when she couldn't sleep, wondering what it would feel like to finally close the distance between them. But nothing could have prepared her for the reality of it.

Nothing could have prepared her for the way his lips felt against hers, soft but demanding or the way his hand cradled the back of her head like she was something precious. The way his breath hitched when she responded when she kissed him back with just as much hunger as if she had been waiting for this just as long as he had.

At that moment, everything else fell away— the rain, the car, the world outside. All that mattered was him, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his hand on her skin.

All the years of pining, of holding back, of pretending they didn't feel what they did— it all dissolved in the heat of the kiss.

Jeonghan groaned softly, the sound vibrating against her lips as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss even further. His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her closer as if he couldn't bear the thought of even an inch of space between them.

Luna's hands found their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer, her body arching toward him instinctively. The kiss was everything she had imagined and more fiery, desperate, filled with years of pent-up longing.

And yet, there was a softness to it, too. A tenderness in the way his thumb brushed her cheek, in the way his lips softened against hers as if he was savoring every second of it.

Her mind was spinning, her heart pounding in her chest as they kissed, the sound of the rain outside only intensifying the moment, creating a cocoon of intimacy around them. This kiss was more than just a kiss— it was a culmination of everything that had been building between them for years.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they panted softly, the air between them thick with the weight of what had just happened.

Jeonghan's hand was still cradling her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek as he stared down at her, his dark eyes filled with something she couldn't quite place.

"Jiyeon-ah," he whispered, his voice rough, his breath warm against her lips. He didn't say anything else—he didn't need to.

Everything he was feeling was written in the way he looked at her, in the way his fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against her skin.

Luna's heart was still racing, her mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened. But when she met his gaze, saw the vulnerability in his eyes, she knew.

This wasn't just a moment. This was everything they had been denying, everything they had been too afraid to acknowledge.

Jeonghan didn’t waste a second. As soon as the kiss broke, his lips still tingling from the warmth of hers, he popped the lollipop he was still holding in between his fingers back into his mouth with a smirk, tasting the lingering sweetness that seemed insignificant compared to the taste of her lips.

Without a word, he grabbed her purse from the back seat and pushed open his door, stepping out into the pouring rain.

The downpour was relentless, soaking him to the bone the moment he left the car, but he didn’t care. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his clothes sticking to his skin as he jogged around the front of the car, his shoes splashing in the puddles that had formed beneath him. The rain chilled him, but the heat still simmering in his veins from their kiss overpowered the cold.

Luna was still frozen in her seat, her mind reeling from the intensity of what had just happened.

The taste of Jeonghan's kiss was still fresh on her lips, her pulse racing, every nerve ending in her body on fire. She hadn’t even noticed that Jeonghan had left the car, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts as she replayed the feel of his lips, the way his hand had tangled in her hair, the way he had kissed her like he was claiming her.

She was only brought back to reality when the passenger door opened with a wet, metallic groan, and Jeonghan, drenched and dripping, crouched down to meet her wide-eyed gaze.

His eyes were dark, filled with something unreadable as his hands moved to her seatbelt, carefully unclipping it before leaning in just enough for her to catch the scent of rain and his cologne, now mingling with the smell of wet clothes “Come on,” he murmured, his voice still rough from the kiss.

His fingers found hers, intertwining with them as he gently but firmly pulled her out of the car and into the rain.

The cold rain hit her like a shock, drenching her instantly as her shoes splashed into a puddle beside the curb. She barely had time to register the chill because Jeonghan’s hand tightened around hers, pulling her toward the dorm entrance with a sense of urgency like he couldn’t bear to be apart from her for even another second.

They sprinted through the rain, hand in hand, as it poured relentlessly, drenching both of them until their clothes clung to their bodies. Luna’s breath came in quick, ragged gasps, her heart still hammering from the kiss, from the feel of Jeonghan’s fingers tightly gripping hers.

By the time they reached the dorm building’s entrance, they were soaked, water dripping from their hair and clothes, but neither of them seemed to care.

Jeonghan pulled open the door with one swift motion, leading her inside, their footsteps echoing off the tiled floor as they hurried toward the elevator. As soon as the elevator doors slid shut, the tension snapped back into place, stronger and more electric than before.

The rain had done nothing to cool the heat simmering between them. If anything, it had only intensified it.

Jeonghan stood there for a second, his chest rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths, his wet hair sticking to his forehead, and water droplets running down his face.

And then, without warning, he yanked the lollipop from his mouth and threw it carelessly to the floor of the elevator, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her knees go weak.

In one swift motion, he grabbed her by the waist and pushed her back against the elevator wall, his body pressing against hers, pinning her in place. His lips crashed into hers again, desperate, hungry, like he couldn’t wait another second to taste her again.

Luna’s hands flew to his chest, fingers curling into the wet fabric of his shirt as she kissed him back just as desperately, just as hungrily. The heat between them was unbearable, the feel of his body against hers, the taste of his lips— everything about him was overwhelming her senses, and she couldn’t get enough.

Between kisses, Jeonghan’s breath was ragged, his voice low and rough. “God, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Luna’s response was a soft gasp as his hand slid up her side, pressing her closer against the wall. “Han– oppa…”

He kissed her again, cutting off her words, his lips moving against hers with a fierce intensity. “You don’t even know how much I wanted this, Jiyeonie,” he whispered, his breath hot against her mouth as he pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with desire.

Luna couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t think.

All she could do was feel— the heat of his body, the way his fingers dug into her waist, the way his lips moved against hers, demanding and relentless. She had dreamed of this moment for so long, imagined it in a thousand different ways, but nothing could compare to the real thing.

Nothing could compare to the way Jeonghan kissed her like he was starving like he needed her to breathe.

The elevator dinged, the sound almost lost in the haze of their kiss. Jeonghan pulled away just long enough to glance at the floor number before a mischievous smirk tugged at his lips. He grabbed her hand again, yanking her out of the elevator as the doors opened.

Their footsteps were hurried as they made their way to his apartment, water still dripping from their clothes and hair. Without a second thought, Jeonghan typed his password, fumbling slightly as he unlocked the door in his haste.

The moment it swung open, he pulled her inside, slamming the door shut behind them with a loud thud, locking it in one fluid motion. Before Luna could even catch her breath, Jeonghan had her pressed up against the door, his hands braced on either side of her head as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against hers again, teasing.

“You’re staying here with me tonight, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft, but the heat in his eyes was unmistakable.

Luna barely had time to nod before his lips were on hers again, his hands sliding down her waist, pulling her flush against him as if he couldn’t stand the thought of any space between them.

The intensity of the kiss made her dizzy, her body reacting on instinct, her hands tangling in his soaked hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor. They were both drenched, clothes sticking to their skin, hair dripping water onto the floor, but none of it mattered.

All that mattered was this— this moment, this kiss, this connection that had been building for years, finally unleashed with a force neither of them could control.

Jeonghan’s hand slid up her side, fingers grazing her wet skin beneath her soaked shirt, making her shiver despite the heat between them. His lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, down to her neck, where he left a trail of soft, teasing kisses, his breath warm against her skin.

Luna’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening in his hair as her head tilted back, giving him more access. “Hannie…” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, her mind spinning from the overwhelming sensation of his touch, his lips, his body pressed so firmly against hers.

“Nana-ya…” he hummed back, his voice rough and filled with so much emotion, so much want, that it made her knees buckle beneath her. “I’m never letting you go after this. You know that right?”

Jeonghan couldn’t get enough of her— her taste, her scent, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. Every kiss was deeper, more desperate like he had been waiting for this moment his entire life.

His hand slid beneath her shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, feeling the way her body trembled under his touch. He pressed his lips to the soft skin of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her, a mix of rain, shampoo, and something uniquely Luna.

God, she’s perfect.

He couldn't help the thought that ran through his mind, as if seeing her, feeling her like this, up close, made him realize just how breathtaking she truly was. Every inch of her, from the way she gasped softly at his touch to the way her hands clung to him as though he was the only thing keeping her grounded, drove him mad with need.

Luna’s mind was a mess, her body responding to him in ways she hadn’t imagined. Every brush of his lips on her skin sent a shiver down her spine, and the way his hands roamed over her like he was memorizing her made her heart race uncontrollably.

She’d dreamed of this moment countless times— of Jeonghan looking at her the way he was now, touching her like he couldn’t get enough. But now that it was happening, it was so much more than she ever imagined.

He’s really here. This is really happening.

His hands, his mouth, the way he said her name— it all felt too good to be real like she was living in some fantasy she had conjured. But the heat of his breath against her neck, the way his body pressed into hers, was too intense to be anything but reality. And now that they had crossed this line, she didn’t want to stop.

She didn’t want to think about the consequences, the risks, or the years they had tiptoed around their feelings.

All she wanted was Jeonghan.

Jeonghan’s lips moved back up to her mouth, capturing her in another deep, urgent kiss. His hand slid further under her shirt, his thumb brushing against her ribs, drawing a soft gasp from her lips.

“I hated what I did to you— I shouldn’t have lied to you about my feelings,” he murmured against her lips, his voice low, almost a growl.

Luna’s heart skipped a beat, her hands tightening their grip on his damp shirt. She looked into his eyes, breathless, her lips still tingling from his kiss. “Then why did you?” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her eyes searched his, wanting to understand why he had kepthis feelings to himself for so long.

Jeonghan's eyes darkened slightly as he rested his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the small space between them. "I was scared," he confessed softly, his voice tinged with something between regret and longing.

But not anymore, Jeonghan thought to himself, feeling the weight of all the unspoken words they had left hanging in the air for years.

He had been so careful, so patient, but now that he had her here, now that he had tasted what they could be together, there was no going back.

Jeonghan can't let her go. Not now.

Luna’s heart ached at his words, but a part of her understood.

They had always been so careful, always so focused on the group, on protecting what they had built together. But she couldn’t stop the pang of frustration that crept in. They had wasted so much time, so many years dancing around each other, denying what was always there, just beneath the surface.

“We could have had this sooner,” she murmured, her voice barely audible as she cupped his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek.

Jeonghan leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly, savoring the warmth of her hands on his skin. “I know,” he breathed out, his lips brushing against hers again, softer this time, almost tender. “But I was afraid… of how much I wanted you.”

Those words sent a fresh wave of heat through her, her body reacting instantly to the intensity in his voice.

She didn’t think she could want him more than she already did, but somehow, hearing him admit that he had been holding back for so long only made her desire for him stronger.

Jeonghan’s hands slid up her sides, pushing the wet fabric of her shirt higher, his fingers skimming the bare skin of her stomach. “You’re driving me crazy, Bae Jiyeon,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and desire as his lips found hers again, their kiss deeper, more urgent than before.

Luna’s hands slipped into his hair, tugging him closer as she kissed him back with equal fervor, her mind racing with the realization that they were finally here, that everything they had held back for so long was finally pouring out between them, unstoppable, uncontrollable.

“I don’t want to stop,” Jeonghan whispered against her lips, his hands trembling slightly as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. “I don’t think I can.”

Luna’s heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at him, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “Then don’t,” she whispered back, her voice filled with the same desperation, the same need that had been building between them for years.

Jeonghan’s eyes darkened at her words, his hand sliding into her hair as he kissed her again, harder this time, more possessive. His other hand trailed down her side, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Every kiss, every touch, felt like a promise— one that neither of them was willing to break. The world outside their bubble no longer existed. It was just them— Jeonghan and Luna— finally giving in to the undeniable connection they had tried so hard to resist for years.

The heat between them was unbearable, and consuming, and neither of them cared about the consequences anymore.

They had waited long enough.

Jeonghan's lips were relentless, his hands roaming over her with a desperation that mirrored her own. Luna's fingers curled into his hair, tugging gently as she kissed him back with equal fervor. They had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was here, neither of them wanted it to end.

Jeonghan's hands slid down her back, pulling her even closer as if he wanted to merge their bodies into one. Luna's breath hitched as she felt his desire matching her own, his lips moving against hers with a hunger that left her dizzy.

His touch was electric, his kisses like a drug she couldn't get enough of. She wanted more— needed more of him.

Their kisses grew deeper, more intense as if they were trying to communicate everything they had left unsaid for years through their touch alone.

Luna's hands roamed over his chest, and his shoulders, memorizing the feel of him, the warmth of his skin. Jeonghan's fingers traced patterns on her back, his lips trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

Jeonghan pulled away slightly, his breath still mingling with hers, his eyes searching her face for any sign of hesitation.

The tension between them still buzzed in the air, but now there was a softness there, a quiet moment of clarity that hung heavy between their shared breaths. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing gently against her skin as if he was grounding himself in her presence, ensuring she was okay.

“Jiyeon…” Jeonghan’s voice was soft now, barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything that had happened between them over the years. “If we do this…” He paused, his dark eyes locking with hers, the intensity in them impossible to miss. “You’re mine.”

There it was— Jeonghan’s possessiveness laid out in a simple, yet potent statement.

It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t a plea.

It was a declaration, one that carried the kind of certainty that had always been a part of him, but now it was directed solely at her.

His gaze didn’t waver, waiting for her response.

For a moment, Luna just blinked, still catching her breath, feeling the heat of his words settling into her. She could feel the intensity of his claim, but it didn’t faze her— she wasn’t the type to be overwhelmed. If anything, it only fueled her.

A small, almost mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she tilted her head slightly, her eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of defiance he loved so much.

“Yours, huh?” She raised an eyebrow, voice dripping with that quick wit and teasing edge she wielded so well. “Last I checked, I don’t remember signing any contracts.”

Jeonghan let out a breathy chuckle, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. “Oh, I’m pretty sure you signed it the moment you let me kiss you,” he cooed, his tone smooth and teasing, though there was no mistaking the seriousness underlying his words. “But if you need a reminder, I can always make it official.”

Luna’s heart raced as he spoke, the familiar push and pull between them sending her mind into overdrive. She liked the way he challenged her, the way he never let her have the last word easily.

But she wasn’t about to back down. Her eyes narrowed playfully, and she leaned in just a little, her voice dropping into a near whisper as she fired back, “You’ll have to convince me, Hannie.”

Jeonghan grinned, leaning his forehead against hers as a soft laugh escaped him, the warmth of it rolling through the charged air between them. “That’s what I love about you,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, soft and almost condescending in its teasing tone. “You never make it easy.

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, his breath brushing against her lips again, his fingers gently stroking her cheek as he leaned in, the weight of his words sinking in deeper. “But I wasn’t asking you to make it easy. I like a challenge.” His voice was almost a purr now, each word laced with the kind of softness that only he could pull off while still holding all the control.

“I always win in the end anyway.”

Luna felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, the sensation of his breath on her skin and the teasing tone in his voice doing things to her that she couldn’t fully explain.

Her witty retort died on her tongue, and for the second time today in their back-and-forth, she found herself at a loss for words, simply staring into his eyes.

And Jeonghan knew it— he saw the way her resolve wavered, just for a second, and his smirk deepened, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” he cooed softly, his voice dripping with that condescending baby talk he knew always got to her. “Hm? You okay?”

Luna’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching as she struggled to regain her composure, but the look in his eyes, the way his voice curled around her name, had her completely undone.

All she could manage was a quiet, “Shut up, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan grinned, leaning in even closer until his lips were just barely grazing hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "I love when you look at me like that... all helpless. You're not as tough as you pretend to be, are you?"

"Jeonghan, please... stop teasing me." Luna’s voice was soft and breathy, almost pleading as she tugged at his shirt, unable to handle how slowly he was drawing everything out.

“No? You don’t like it? I thought you liked it, hm?”Jeonghan teasingly whispered against her lips, his voice full of knowing condescension, taunting her with the fact that she always gave in to him. “It’s not fun when you’re the one being teased, huh?

Jeonghan lowered his head slowly, the glint in his eyes unmistakable as he taunted her with a soft, knowing smirk. His face hovered just inches above hers, his breath warm against her skin. She felt the weight of his gaze, heavy and teasing, as he tilted his head, pretending to consider her predicament. The moment stretched on, tension wrapping around them like a vice.

"So quiet now..." His voice was a low purr, almost a coo, dripping with condescension. He paused deliberately, letting his words sink in before speaking again. "Where's all that fire from earlier, Nana-ya?"

The nickname came out in a soft sing-song, teasing her further as his fingers brushed a stray lock of hair away from her flushed face.

Luna looked up at him, her wide eyes almost innocent, her lips parted in the slightest pout. Her heart raced in her chest, a mix of frustration and need swirling within her. "I can't handle it when you're like this... you know that." Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with a soft, frustrated whine as she pressed her forehead against his chest, her body melting into him, overwhelmed by how effortlessly he unraveled her.

Her words seemed to ignite something in Jeonghan, the way her small, innocent plea tugged at his heart. He couldn't help the way his lips curved into a smirk, his fingers instinctively moving to caress her hair.

"Aw, my poor baby," he cooed, his tone laced with amusement as he stroked her hair, letting his fingertips trace lightly over her scalp. "You really can't handle it, huh?" He whispered into her hair, his voice soft but teasing.

His heart swelled at the way she softened under his touch, completely pliable, like she was made for him to tease, to protect, to hold.

Jeonghan exhaled slowly, giving in to the tenderness that washed over him in waves.

"Alright, alright... come here." His voice softened as he leaned down and scooped her into his arms effortlessly, his strong grip making her feel weightless. She let out a tiny gasp, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck while he lifted her as if she were made of air.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, her body pressed against him as he held her securely, cradling her as if she were the most precious thing in his world. His chest was warm, the steady beat of his heart against hers calming the storm that had raged moments earlier.

Jeonghan pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered, "You know I can't resist you when you're like this." His tone was gentle now, the teasing edge replaced by something softer, more protective. He shifted her weight in his arms as he carried her across the room, their bodies still so close, her head resting on his shoulder as she nestled into the crook of his neck.

He pushed open the door to his bedroom with his foot, the soft creak of the door the only sound between them. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of moonlight filtering in through the curtains, casting a pale light over the bed. Jeonghan gently lowered her onto the bed, his hands never leaving her as he carefully settled her down on the plush mattress.

Luna's fingers clung to his shirt, her body still tingling from his touch. She looked up at him, her lips slightly parted as if she didn't want to let go of him just yet.

Jeonghan chuckled softly, "Look at you... so pretty for me. You know I can't resist when you're like this, don't you?" He gently stroked her hair, his voice filled with doting affection, his eyes tracing her features like he couldn't get enough.

Luna's impatient lips found their way along the line of his jaw, teasing, swirling, tasting; her tangled curls brushing against his cheek like a lover's tender caress.

Jeonghan was intoxicated; by her, by this delicious moment that felt like a dream.

His hands, those gentle, long-fingered hands were gently removing her jacket with such finesse, now gripped her hips tightly, pulling her closer against him. He could feel her heat through the thin fabric of her attire, and he groaned, a sound that was swallowed by their ravenous kisses.

Luna gasped, her head tilting back to expose the long, elegant line of her throat. Jeonghan took advantage, his lips and teeth tracing a path of fire down to the hollow at the base of her neck.

Her hands, previously knotted in Jeonghan’s hair, now clawed at his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. He could feel her pulse racing, matching the frantic beat of his own heart.

"Oppa... please. I need you.” Luna’s was voice breathy, a little whimper escaping her as she reached for him, the need in her words almost unbearable.

"Fuck, Jiyeonie," he muttered, his voice a low growl against her skin. "You’re gonna kill me."

"Please, Hannie... I'll be good." Luna breathed out a small, pleading whimper as she promised obedience, her tone soft and submissive, wanting nothing more than to please him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against her. He could feel her, hot and wet even through their drenched clothes, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to grind against her like a teenager.

Bae Jiyeon was trying to kill Yoon Jeonghan.

He was sure of it.

"Han," she whimpered, her fingers tangling in his hair, tugging sharply. "Please."

"Please what? Hm," he teased, his voice a low purr. "Tell me what you want."

Luna’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before snapping open again, meeting his gaze. "I want... I want you to take me… please.”

“Take you where? Disneyland?” Jeonghan couldn’t help himself as he smirked down at Luna who was now looking at him with a look mixed with frustration and agitation. “Tell me.”

"Oppa, I'm trying... but you make it so hard." Luna released a soft, frustrated whisper as she whined, biting her lip in frustration, overwhelmed by the way he is teasing her.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl. You can do it. Tell me and I’ll do anything.” Jeonghan cooed as he caressed her cheeks.

Luna swallowed hard, her eyes darkening with desire.

"Fuck me, Hannie. I want you, please.” Luna whispered, her voice barely audible yet laden with desire. Her words were like a matchstick set alight, igniting a wildfire within him.

A jolt of electricity shot through Jeonghan at her words, his cock straining painfully against his zipper. He gripped her chin, tilting her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough.

“Fuck me,” Luna said in an instant, desperately.

Jeonghan wasted no time. He grabbed her legs which were still wrapped around his waist. With a desperate and impatient flurry of movement, clothes started flying from all over the room, leaving them both bare and even more desperate than ever.

Jeonghan sat down on the bed, pulling Luna upward onto his lap, and straddling him. His hands roamed her body, cupping her breasts, squeezing them gently.

Luna arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. He could feel her nipples hardening, pressing against his palms, begging for his mouth.

Jeonghan gripped her tighter against him, her legs wrapping around his waist, his hands gripping her ass. He could feel her heat against his stomach, her wetness coating him. He groaned, his head dipping down to capture her nipple in his mouth.

He sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, making Luna squirm in his arms. She arched her back, pushing herself further into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair.

"Fuck, Han," she panted, her hips grinding against him. "I need you inside me.

Jeonghan didn't need any more encouragement. He released her nipple with a pop, his hands shifting to position himself at her entrance. He looked into her eyes, seeing the same hunger reflected back at him. Then, with one swift thrust, he pushed inside her.

"Fuck, Jiyeon," he breathed, his voice ragged. "You feel incredible."

Luna could only whimper in response, her body pulsing around him. She could feel every inch of him, filling her completely. She shifted her hips, trying to take him even deeper.

"Shhh, baby... no need to rush. We have all night. Let me take care of you." Jeonghan cooed softly as he slowed her down, his hands steady on her waist, his voice purring as if soothing her into submission.

“Han…” Luna’s voice was a soft whimper as she buried her face in his neck, feeling exposed and vulnerable, surrendering herself completely to him.

Jeonghan groaned, his control snapping.

He began to move faster, his hips thrusting forward in a steady rhythm. Luna matched his pace, her body rocking against his, their skin slapping together in a filthy symphony. The sound of their fucking filled the room, punctuated by their labored breaths and moans.

"Fuck, Hannie…. feels so good…" Luna gasped, her head thrown back. “Please… fast– fuck,”

"You don't need to say anything, angel. I already know. Just let me hear those pretty little sounds you make for me." Jeonghan spoke softly against her ear, his voice thick with teasing affection as he kissed her neck, enjoying how she melted into his touch.

Jeonghan’s grip on her ass tightened. He slammed into her, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside her, making her cry out.

"Yes! Just like that, Han!" she panted, her fingers digging into his back, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist, urging him on.

“Yeah? Just like this, baby?” Jeonghan was lost in the sensation of her, the way she gripped him, the way her body moved in sync with his. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back, his arms burning from the effort, but he didn't care.

He wanted more. He wanted all of her.

"You're driving me crazy, Hannie..." Luna breathed out with a whimper, her fingers clutching at his shoulders as she squirmed on top of him, feeling like she was losing control.

Jeonghan had the audacity to chuckle as shifted his angle, making sure to hit her clit with each thrust.

Luna purred as she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She could feel his heart beating against her chest. She shifted slightly, grinding against him, matching his thrusts making him groan.

"Fuck, Jiyeon," he muttered, his grip on her tightening. "Stop that or I'll cum."

Luna just giggled, her lips tracing the line of his jaw. "You promise?" she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

“Brat,” Jeonghan growled, his cock slipping out of her, making her whimper at the loss. But before she could protest, he grabbed her hips, flipping her onto her hands and knees. Luna gasped, her ass high in the air, her face pressed into the mattress.

"Is this what you want, pretty angel?" Jeonghan asked, his voice a low rumble behind her.

Luna could feel his breath on her ass, his fingers digging into her hips.

"Yes," she panted, her face still pressed into the mattress before she lifted her head up to turn back and look at him, her doe eyes glistening in pleasure.

"I just want to make you happy... don’t you want that?" Luna’s voice was quiet and trembling, filled with vulnerability as she looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, needing his approval.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his fingers caressing the soft flesh of her ass slow and steady. "Yeah? You want to make me happy, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice a lazy drawl. "Give me anything I want?”

“Give you anything you want. Be whatever you want.” Luna arched her back downwards like a cat stretching.

Jeonghan threw his head back, groaning, his hands spreading her ass cheeks apart, giving him a clear view of her glistening pussy. Luna shivered at the exposure, her body aching with anticipation.

He chuckled a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. “Anything?”

“You're always teasing me, but you know I'll do anything for you, Han…” Luna released a soft, almost resigned whimper as she melted into his touch, accepting her place with a shy smile, letting herself be vulnerable for him.

"Fuck," Jeonghan muttered, his thumb tracing the seam of her pussy, gathering her wetness. "You're so fucking wet.”

“Look at you, dripping for me," He said, his voice laced with desire as he rubbed her wetness, making Luna gasp.

"Aww, baby... you're shaking. Don't worry, I've got you. I always have you. I’ll take care of you like I promised." Jeonghan cooed in a soft, condescending way as he held her leaned down on top of her, his arm wrapped around her neck, holding her close, his other hand soothingly stroking her back while his voice dipped into a protective, possessive tone.

Luna moaned, her face now pressed into the mattress, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her as Jeonghan played with her clit. "Yes please… please take care of me,” she hissed, her body arching against his touch.

Jeonghan smirked, his thumb circling her clit faster, making her gasp. "Like this, Nana-ya?" he asked, his voice soft almost as if he was singing a song to her. "You want me to fuck you like this?”

"Yes," she panted, her body writhing against his touch. "I want you to fuck me like this, oppa.” Luna's voice was a sultry purr, her body still quivering from his touch.

Jeonghan's smirk widened, his thumb was replaced by two fingers now pumping in and out of her hole, making her gasp. "You're a dirty girl, Nana-ya," he said in a tone as if he was scolding her yet his voice also filled with approval. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Luna could only whimper in response, her body aching with need. She could feel Jeonghan's hard cock pressed against her thigh, hot and heavy. She wanted it back inside her, she wanted to feel him stretching her, filling her completely.

"Please, Han," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan growled, his fingers slipping out of her, making her whimper at the loss as he in turn placed his fingers in his mouth. "You taste even sweeter than I thought. Just like I imagined... but better."

But before Luna could impatiently whine once more, Jeonghan grabbed his cock, positioning it at her entrance. Luna could feel the thick head pressing against her, making her squirm with anticipation.

"Baby," Jeonghan muttered, "You're so fucking tight.” His fingers dug into her hips as he slowly pushed himself deeper into her, inch by inch. Luna moaned, her body stretching to accommodate his size, her nails digging into the sheets beneath her.

"Fuck, Han. You're so big," she gasped, her body trembling as he filled her completely in this position. Jeonghan chuckled, his hips starting to move, sliding his cock in and out of her in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Too much for you, baby?" he taunted, his voice laced with desire. "You can take it for me, Jiyeonie. You can take all of me."

Luna moaned, her body adjusting to his size once again as she clenched around him. "Yes, I can," she hissed, pushing back against him, taking him even deeper. “For you.”

Jeonghan groaned, his hips starting to move faster, his cock sliding in and out of her in a steady rhythm. "Fuck, Luna," he growled, his fingers digging into her hips. "You feel so fucking good.”

“Hannie, just like that," Luna panted, her hips moving in sync with his thrusts, taking cock deeper into her. Jeonghan could feel her walls clenching around him, her pleasure building with each thrust.

“Like a goddamn vice, squeezing me," Jeonghan groaned, his fingers digging into her hips as he pounded on her.

“Oppa… Han– fuck,” Luna moaned, her body trembling as he filled her, stretching her, hitting places she didn't know existed. “Jeonghan.”

"Such a good girl for me... that's it. Let me hear you say my name." Jeonghan murmured softly as he watched her, his tone gentle but commanding, savoring the control he had over her at that moment.

"Hannie… fuck," she gasped, her fingers clawing at the bedsheets, her back arching as he started to pick up the pace. “It's too much." Luna gasped, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts as Jeonghan's cock slid in and out of her in a steady, punishing rhythm. Each thrust hit just the right spot, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through her veins, making her toes curl and her eyes roll back.

"Too much what, Nana-ya?" Jeonghan gritted out, his fingers digging into her hips, pulling her back onto him with each thrust. "Too much of my cock? Too much pleasure?"

Luna moaned, her head dropping down, her hair hiding her face. "All of it. It's all too much. It's overwhelming," She panted, her body quivering as Jeonghan's cock slammed into her, again and again, each thrust driving her closer to the edge.

He growled, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her neck to his lips and teeth. "Overwhelming in a good way, right, angel?" he murmured, his voice a low, sultry drawl against her skin. "You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you? Hm? You're made for me, Bae Jiyeon.”

Luna could only moan and tremble. “Oppa…”

“Does it feel good, pretty?" Jeonghan's question was laced with intent and purpose, and Luna gasped at the sound of it in the dim room. His cock was buried deep inside her, and it was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

It felt powerful, raw, and undeniably intimate.

"Yes...yes, Han," she breathed, her hands gripping the bedsheets as her hips butted against his in rhythm with his thrusts. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

Jeonghan paused for a second before placing kisses on her back and spinning her around to lay on her back, catching Luna off guard.

“You’re so pretty,” Jeonghan purred as he placed his arms at each side of her head, laying in between his arms before he started thrusting harder in her.

Every time he thrust into her, she felt a wave of ecstasy surge through her body, building higher and higher with each stroke.

"Baby— Luna, I want to feel you cum," Jeonghan groaned, his rhythm intensifying as he reached for her climax alongside her.

Luna could only whimper in response as waves of bliss crashed over her. Her fingers curled into fists as her body tensed, every muscle tightening, every nerve amplifying the pulsating sensation ripping through her.

"Oh God, Hannie," she moaned, her voice raw and desperate, "I'm there...oh my— fuck, I'm close!" Her body shook and arched, her head thrown back as she came, her cries muffled by the flesh of Jeonghan’s neck as she hid her face.

"Don't look away... keep your eyes on me, Jiyeonie. I want to see every reaction." Jeonghan said in a soft yet commanding voice as his fingers traced the skin on the back of her neck, guiding Luna’s face out of his neck, loving the vulnerability in her gaze as he held her captive with his words.

"Let me see those pretty eyes... There we go. There’s my girl." He purred softly as he tilted her chin up, guiding her to meet his gaze, his tone filled with a tender yet teasing affection that made her heart race as he continued pounding into her.

“I’m close, Han,” Luna moaned as she tightened her grasp on him.

“Let go, baby. Come on, you can do it,” Jeonghan's thrusts became harder and faster, his body slapping against Luna’s. She could feel her breasts bouncing with every movement, and her nipples hardened as she arched her back, moaning in pleasure.

Jeonghan was reaching the edge as well, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his muscles tensing. Luna knew he was on the brink, and she wanted to feel him explode inside her.

Luna dug her nails into his back, urging him on. "Hannie oppa, cum in me please,” she begged, her hips bucking up to meet his. “I’m close.”

“I’ll cum in you, pretty angel. Anything you want.” Jeonghan gave a final, powerful thrust and Luna felt him erupt inside of her, his seed filling him up as she released as well with a shudder. Her body trembled with the intensity of the orgasm.

Jeonghan groaned in satisfaction, his seed pulsing from his cock, spilling deep inside her as she milked him, her walls clamping down on him, working against his thrusting hips. He collapsed onto Luna, their bodies a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. Luna lay on her back, her heart pounding in her chest, her breaths coming in sporadic gasps.

Jeonghan kissed Luna’s neck, his lips moist and soft against her skin. "Fuck, Bae Jiyeon, you make me feel crazy," he murmured, his breath hot on her ear.

Jeonghan's weight on top of her felt heavy and comforting, and she curled her fingers into the fabric beneath her. She looked up at him, her eyes hazy with lust and pleasure. "You…" she gasped trailing off, her voice still ragged with biss.

"You are magnificent, Jiyeon-ah," Jeonghan replied, his voice soft but with an underlying intensity that made her shiver.

He shifted off her, lying on his side next to her. He brushed a loose curl away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "See? I told you... you’re made for me.” He whispered with a possessive edge as he looked into her eyes, his fingers gently tracing her jawline, the weight of his claim lingering in the air.

Luna let out a soft laugh, her hand traveling down his chest and settling on his hip as she hid her face in his chest, a blushing mess.

“Stop hiding from me, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan placed a kiss on top of her head as his warm fingers drew circles on her hip. “Why are you shy all of a sudden? Hm?”

“Stop,” Luna playful whined, her pout evident in her tone, though the affection lacing her words betrayed how much she loved the attention he gave her.

"You like it when I talk to you like this, don't you? It's okay, you don't have to hide it. I can tell." Jeonghan was practically purring at her, his voice dripping with teasing condescension, savoring the way she responded to his baby talk and teasing words.

“You’re so fucking annoying, Yoon Jeonghan,” Luna huffed as she removed her face off his chest to playfully glare at him only to be met by Jeonghan’s smug face already looking down at her.

A slow, lazy smile spread across Jeonghan’s lips, and he let out a low hum, clearly amused by her response. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “How do you feel, pretty girl?”

Luna could feel her pulse quicken at the nearness of him, but she wasn’t about to let him win this easily. “I’m fine. I feel fine,” she said coolly, shrugging her shoulders like this was just another casual conversation.

Jeonghan chuckled, a low sound that reverberated through his chest. “You’re fine?” he repeated, his tone teasing, almost mocking. “I just rocked your fucking world and made you mine, and all you’ve got is ‘I’m fine’?”

Luna turned to face him fully, her eyes narrowing just slightly as she smirked. “What else do you want me to say? Write a love letter?” she quipped back, not missing a beat.

Jeonghan laughed softly, his fingers trailing down her arm in a way that sent shivers down her spine. “You don’t have to say anything, Jiyeonie,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, his teasing tone gone, replaced by something far more direct. “You already did.”

Luna raised an eyebrow at that, a silent challenge in her eyes. “Oh? And what exactly did I say?”

Jeonghan’s smirk widened, and without breaking eye contact, he leaned in close— too close, his breath warm against her lips. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

The words hung in the air between them, simple but heavy. Luna didn’t have a quick comeback this time. Her heart skipped a beat, not because of the weight of the situation, but because he said it so nonchalantly like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jeonghan pulled back just slightly, watching her reaction with that same unreadable expression. “So… you tell me. What does that mean?”

Luna stared at him, feeling the weight of his words sink in. She could feel her defenses crumbling, but she wasn’t ready to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “Maybe I just didn’t want to leave before breakfast tomorrow morning,” she shot back, keeping her voice light, and playful.

Jeonghan laughed again, shaking his head as he rested his forehead against hers. “Maybe. Or maybe… you’re not quite done with me yet.”

Luna rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?”

Jeonghan grinned, pulling her closer. “I have an answer for you, yeah.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before pulling back with that same infuriating smile. “Get used to it.”

The words were casual, almost tossed out as an afterthought. But they carried weight— an unspoken promise. And as Luna lay there, wrapped in his arms, she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t mind getting used to it after all.

In the quiet aftermath, as the weight of everything settled between them, it was clear that this wasn’t just another fleeting moment or a secret whispered in the dark.

And just like that, Luna who started as his English Love Affair had quickly turned into something far less foreign— and far more impossible to forget.

There was no turning back— this was no longer a story of if only, but of everything that came after.

mdni banner: @cafekitsune

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse @randomworker @bunnystrm @iamawkwardandshy @gratefulbunny1 @bmo-bri @syren-ash @megseungmin @multiplums @unlikelysublimekryptonite @night-storm7 @cookiearmy

[heart4gyu]

wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader

note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!! | pt.2 here |

this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.

he just couldn’t help it though.

you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.

how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.

after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.

you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.

jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.

the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.

all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.

and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.

you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.

jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.

you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…

jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.

it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…

so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.

and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.

he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).

you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.

“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”

he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.

giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.

he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.

“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.

“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.

there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.

you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.

so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.

he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.

he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.

“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.

“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.

and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.

[maybank5]

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭

pairing ⤜ yn x jj / yn x rafe cameron

request ⤜ "something where JJ flirts with Topper’s sister, who’s super sweet with everyone and really fun to hang out with, not knowing she’s Rafe’s girl"

a/n ⤜ aww thank you babe for the lovely message and my first ever request!! it kinda took on a life of it's own, and i hope that's alright!!! also i cannot write rafe and jj without rafe being The Bad Guy so i hope you don't mind! i hope it turned out good for you and that you enjoy it a lot! sending hugs and love to you xx

song inspo ⤜ whiskey don't cheat, jay webb

"One whiskey please."

"On the rocks?"

"Excuse me?"

The man behind the bar squints at you, "You sure you're old enough to be here?"

"Of course," you flick your long hair over one shoulder, sit up straighter, hope you blend in well enough. It's just this isn't your usual place, and you know you must stand out like a sore thumb. From the look he's giving you, it's clear you don't belong. You reach into your purse and slap your ID down on the sticky wooden bar counter.

"Mm," he glances at the date, slides it back to you, "Have you ever even had whiskey before, princess?"

You frown, "No. But I'd like one whiskey please. To start."

"To start," his brows shoot up and he lets out a little bemused chuckle, "Alright. One whiskey, coming up. Never did determine if you'd like that on the rocks or not."

"On the rocks," you confirm, "And...can I get a couple maraschino cherries in that."

An amused smile crosses the bartender's face as he turns to prepare your drink. "Sure thing."

You put your elbows up on the bar, twist the gold ring around your thumb, before lowering your arms and crossing your hands in your lap. You feel awkward and out of place. Everyone else here is dressed so casually, and here you sit in your white sundress and heeled sandals. This isn't your usual side of the island, but you needed to get away, find some place to go where Rafe and your brother can't track you down; somewhere where no one will report back to either of them that they saw you throwing drinks back at a bar.

Sometimes it feels like there's no escape. Why you ever got with your brother's best friend is beyond you. The two of them report back to each other and discuss you like you're some sort of specimen. It still makes you queasy knowing that right after your first time, Rafe had texted Topper. Sometimes you just wanted to run away and leave them both in the dust.

So you'd come here, to this side of the island, to The Cut. You'd been here a few times before. You knew a few people that lived on this side. Had met a girl named Kiara at a Beach Clean-Up Weekend awhile ago, and she'd been really sweet. Then there was Sarah Cameron, infamous in the gossip among the Country Club. Rafe's sister who'd left, who'd gotten out. You would never admit it to anyone, but sometimes hearing the ladies gossip about her over their long island iced teas and games of bridge made you jealous. What would that be like...to run away from it all and leave it all behind?

You jolt as a glass is set down in front of you, three maraschino cherries speared with a plastic sword floating on the top.

"Thank you." You take a sip and immediately cough. It tastes like cough syrup and you can't help but wince.

"Need something lighter, princess?"

You look up at the bartender with a scowl. "No," you say, determinedly, "This is fine." And as if to prove something to him, you take another sip. It burns, but you don't cough this time.

"So you wanna tell me what's got a girl like you in a place like this, drinking a drink like that?" The bartender wipes his hands on a rag hanging from his pocket, leans his elbows on the bar in front of you. A little bit too close for comfort. You raise your eyes and get lost in the blueness of his. He's looking at you so intently. Rafe used to look at you like that, once upon a time. Now, you feel like you're barely even a blip on his radar. It makes you squirm to be under someone's attention like that.

"No," you say, "It's none of your business."

"Point taken," he raises his hands in surrender, backs off, and leaves you to your drink.

You felt like an idiot. You'd known you and Rafe weren't exclusive. Still though, you didn't realize that he was out running around sleeping with a bunch of other girls from Figure Eight, right under your nose, until that night. You felt cheap. Like a joke. Like everyone was laughing at a joke behind your back at your expense. And worse...Topper had known and hadn't said anything. Because why would he? When it came to "the boys" you knew you were not even a priority.

You finish off your whiskey, and another bartender comes over. "Another one, miss?" He asks.

"No thank you," you say, feeling already a little floaty from the first, "I think I'm ready for my bill."

"Sure thing." He disappears to the register and you put your forehead against your hand. You always were a lightweight when it came to drinking, and the hardest thing you'd ever had was champagne at New Year's. You pay your tab and head out. You spot the first bartender on his smoke break, sitting up on the wooden patio balcony. Something in your stirs, and before you can stop yourself, you make your way over to him. You jump up on the balcony, sitting on the other side of the column from him.

"Hey," he turns to face you, brows pulled together.

"Just...don't say anything," you say, "I need someone to talk to and if you're willing to listen...well, I guess you're as good as anyone."

A scoff. "You sure do know how to make a guy feel flattered."

"Shut up," you fight back a smile. You are not in the mood to smile tonight. Why is he making you smile? "You wanna know why I was here tonight drinking?"

"If you wanna tell me."

"It's stupid. I don't even know if it can count as cheating if I knew we weren't exclusive. I just...I didn't expect that."

"What happened?" The smoke of his cigarette drifts to you, making you feel floaty again, and you realize it's not tobacco he's smoking. You lean your head back against the wooden pillar.

"I found out my boyfriend has been seeing other girls. And not just seeing them either, but like, sleeping with them. Lots of them. And I know we weren't exclusive, and I probably have no right to be upset by this, but I just...I feel sick. And the worst of it is he's my brother's best friend, and he knew and didn't tell me. Because clearly I'm not the one his loyalty lies with."

"Fuck," he passes you the rolled paper between his finger, "Sounds complicated."

You aren't a big smoker, but you put it to your lips anyway and take a hit.

"Thanks," you say, passing it back to him.

"What are you gonna do?"

"No idea," you say, running a hand through your hair, "Part of me tells me to just break up with him, end it. Walk away and let him just do whatever he wants like he's gonna do anyway."

"And the other part?"

"It's complicated. We've been together for so long. He's all I know."

"Sounds like you need to get to know some new things."

"Probably," you say.

"For what it's worth," he says, taking another hit and passing it back to you, "I think it's bullshit what he's doing to you, and you deserve better than that."

"I've already closed my tab," you say, "You don't need to gun for a tip."

He tosses his head back and laughs, "Damn," he says after a moment, "Your boyfriend really doesn't know what he's missin' out on, does he?"

You blush, bring your thumbnail to your lip to bite.

"You want some unsolicited advice? It's kinda my specialty, bein' a bartender an' all..."

"Sure," you say; what could it hurt. Besides, who else have you got to talk to about this?

"I think you should dump his ass. Kick him to the curb. It's not even about being exclusive, it's about taking your feelings into consideration; about respecting you."

You feel your stomach tighten. "That's exactly how I've been trying to explain my feelings to myself," you say in disbelief, "You just put it perfectly into words! I feel disrespected, like how I feel about it just doesn't matter. To him or to my brother or anyone from that fucking place."

"You know, princess, The Cut isn't a closed club. If you're ever needing to get away from Fig Eight, you know where to go."

"Thank you," you can't help but smile, "That's sweet of you."

"Gettin' called sweet from the girl who can't order a drink without maraschino cherries," he chuckles softly. A familiar rumble pulls you from your thoughts. The black Range Rover has pulled up in front of the bar and you feel sick as you see Rafe slam the door shut and hop out. Topper's behind the wheel.

"Y/N!" Rafe calls. You feel sick as he marches over to the patio.

"Rafe Cameron is your boyfriend?" The bartender raises his brows in disbelief.

You wince. Of course he knows who Rafe is. Rafe has a reputation across the entire island.

"Yes," you admit.

"Good," he says to your surprise, dropping the joint and hopping up from the balcony, cracking his neck, "Rafe and I have history."

"What's that mean?" You ask.

"Maybank!" Rafe hollers as he storms over.

"Look what the tides dragged in. Lost, Cameron?"

"Fuck off, Maybank. I'm here for one reason only and that's to get Y/N. She's the one that's lost here. C'mon, Y/N. You don't belong here. I still can't believe you just took off like that! Thank God for Find My Iphone because Topper and I'd never have been able to track you down. Get in the car, we're going."

"The hell we are," you stand your ground, suddenly feeling brave with "Maybank" standing at your side.

"Pardon?" Rafe raises a brow, "C'mon, Y/N. Let's go."

Topper rolls down the window of the Rover, leans his head out, "C'mon, Y/N. Stop throwin' a tantrum and get in the damn car."

"No," you say, crossing your arms, "I don't have to go anywhere with you, Rafe Cameron. In fact, we're done. As of this moment. You are free, go fuck whoever you want, do whatever you want, but just know that I'm done. This is over."

"This is your doing," he turns on the bartender at your side, "I know you've got into her head somehow, JJ."

"JJ" just shrugs, "Maybe. Or maybe your ex is smart enough to come to her own decisions and that decision is that she's better than whatever it is you've got to offer. Which trust me," JJ raises a brow and smirks, "From what I hear from the ladies, isn't much."

Rafe takes a step forward. So does JJ.

"You don't want to do this," Rafe says.

"Oh, but you see I do. You forget, Cameron. It's you who doesn't want to do this. How many reminders do you need, that every time you cross me, it's you who loses. Runs back to Fig Eight with his tail between his legs."

"Fuck you, Maybank."

"You've got twenty seconds to march back to that Rover and for you and your lap dog to get the fuck out of here."

You stare in shock as Rafe's fist clenches at his side, but he does as JJ's said.

"This isn't over, Maybank," Rafe calls over his shoulder.

"Always a pleasure, Cammy," JJ says, giving a little wave as Rafe climbs back into the Range Rover.

"Whoa," you turn to him.

"Yeah," JJ runs a hand through his hair sheepishly, "Sorry about that. I probably shouldn't have stepped in like that without your signal, I just...I cant stand that guy. Either of them."

"Yeah, me either," you say with a little chuckle, "That was pretty impressive though. How did you do that though? How did you get him to back down like that? Rafe doesn't back down from a fight. Ever."

JJ smirks, "Let's just say it's not our first rodeo. He knows better than to mess with me, or any of my friends."

"And does that include me?" You raise a brow.

A smile crosses his face as he holds out his hand for you to take, "What do you think?"

You join him back inside for the remainder of his shift. Instead of whiskey, he and the other bartender, whom you come to learn is named Pope, keep you spoiled in Shirley Temples. The three of you chat, and as the night carries on, you feel a comfort settle over you that you've never experienced before.

After their shift ends, JJ invites you over to come hang out at their place with some of their friends.

"Yeah," you say, taking the hand he offers you, "Like you said, it's high time I get to know some new things. Introduce me to your world, Maybank."

You spend the night hanging out with him and his friends, Pope, John B, and come to find Sarah Cameron and Kiara are also very good friends with JJ. You spend the night laughing and playing board games with them, drinking PBR (which you realize you can handle much better than whiskey; even if JJ teases you and asks if you're sure you can drink beer without cherries in it).

It's almost three in the morning when Kiara puts some music on the porch speakers. JJ reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you out to the grass to dance with you under the moonlight.

You know tomorrow you're going to have to face the consequences of this night. You're going to have to go home and have a proper conversation with Rafe Cameron. At the end of the day, he's still important to you, and you want to end things the right way. You're going to have to face Topper too, and deal with his comments. And you know the ladies at the Country Club are fixing to have some new gossip to add to their rosters. It's worth it though. It'll all be worth it, for more nights like these, with friends like those, and dancing with a boy like this under the moonlight.