#i was stressed for the past few months over this movie

[roses-and-tears]

.

[eleganzadellarosa]

Can’t Do It Like Me

pairing: jealous ex!choi san x fem!reader

genre: Smut (you already know)

warnings: MDNI (rough sex, jealous sex, cheating (don’t condone it but it fits the plot), choking, manhandling, slight spit play, oral (m and f receiving), mirror sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), squirting, daddy kink, degradation, honestly some toxic shit happens)

word count: 4.1K+

A/N: As soon as I think of it, I come straight to Tumblr. Also San if you see this, I’m sorry 😔 Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading :)

Every year like clockwork you had to be reminded of a past relationship that could’ve been something special. The notification popping up on your phone “Remember this day?” Yes. You did remember and you wish you could forget but you also couldn’t find the strength to delete the pictures.

Choi San. The man you described as “husband material” at some point in time, only to recall the many moments of toxicity that lead to the breakup. From the distrust to watching your location like a movie, he was possessive and sometimes even that was an understatement. He made sure everyone knew you were his and almost got into a few fights over it.

Eventually, you opened your eyes to how you always excused his behavior and finally put your foot down. You deserved a healthy relationship with a person who strives for the same thing. You were glad San wasn’t in your life anymore, he made it too stressful.

But at the same time, you missed him. Sometimes at night when your hands were between your legs, you'd think about him. You loved your current boyfriend, he was just what you were looking for. But with the recent growing distance in your relationship, maybe all good things in your life were destined to come to an end. He was always away for work, only coming home to see you maybe once every two months or so. A year into the relationship is when things started to change and now that it’s going on two years, you constantly felt alone and your vibrator wasn’t strong enough to keep you sane.

Your phone was ringing; a facetime call.

“Omg hey babe, to what do I owe this spontaneous phone call?”

He chuckled before answering, “Hey baby, I’m just calling to ask you a quick question.” He proceeded when you nodded your head. “Are you busy this weekend? The company’s having a joint event with another company and I may need a plus one.” The tone of his voice inflected upwards as he neared the end of his sentence.

Your heart jumped with excitement. Of course it wasn't a logical comparison to how much he loved you, but you felt the need to be paraded around; labeled as "his girlfriend". You haven't been feeling special recently, so a public event would hopefully be the perfect remedy.

“Oh my gosh babe of course I'm not busy! I’ll go choose my outfit right now!” He let out a hearty laugh on the other end when you squealed, jumping off the bed, leaving him to listen to you rustle around in your closet.

You quickly retrieve your phone when you remember and say your “I love yous” and goodbyes before hanging up. Saturday was only two days away so you’d need to put together the perfect outfit within that time frame. Luckily for you, you owned the perfect dress in his favorite color and your only goal was to make him want to completely ruin you wherever he pleases.

It was disappointing to say the least. Everything about this ride felt expensive. The limo itself, the sparking Swarovski detailing on the interior, the bottles of champagne. You felt wined and dined, but the thing you craved the most was missing. He seemed distant in a way. Maybe it was his body language; sitting with his legs turned away from you, dazing into the space behind you as you spoke. Or perhaps, it was the way his hand gripped his phone and peeked at it every time it'd buzz with a notification.

"Maybe he's always been like this" you tell yourself, blaming it on having not been around each other in a while. The thought of the both of you drifting away, tearing at the seams, was saddening. But you definitely weren't the one to blame and neither was he; maybe his determination and drive. As much as you wanted to be here with him right now, your mind kept drifting to San. He would be giving you his undivided attention. A hand or your knee, or knowing San, a seat in his lap. But enough about him, he was too toxic of a person for you to only recall his good traits.

buzz buzz

You looked at your boyfriend from a peripheral view, a bright smile across his face. It made your stomach churn, it just didn't sit right with you.

"Oh who's that?" you ask, leaning over toward him slightly.

He quickly shut it off and put it in his pocket. "Sorry babe, I was just answering a few texts from the guys. We have this group chat with all of us just so we can talk shit about my boss."

"Oh is he an asshole or something?"

"Yes but enough about my job baby, I wanna hear more about you. I missed you so much." He cupped your chin in his hand and planted a kiss on your lips.

You felt bad for thinking so ill of him when nothing was going on. Maybe that was something you never let go of with your relationship with San. He taught you what real anxiety was and you could never forgive him for that. The limo came to a stop and you peeked out the window to your right to see the destination. You felt like a movie star as you gazed at the long staircase in front of the building. You imagined each side lined with paparazzi, ready to take pictures of the beautiful couple exiting their limo.

Your door opened before you realized you had been daydreaming. Your boyfriend extended his hand for you to grab hold and finally walk up into the venue for the night. The inside was just as gorgeous as the outside. Chandeliers, marble flooring, expensive art lining the walls; the whole nine yards. When everyone comes into view, his arm is immediately around your waist. He introduced you to his colleagues and even to his boss which made you chuckle thinking back on the secret he told you about earlier. Everything was going well for you, yet for someone else, things were moving in a terrible direction.

San spotted you from across the large space, the conversation he was having fading completely the more he watched you. His jaw shifted and clenched seeing your boyfriend with his arm around your waist and hand on your ass. He didn’t deserve you. Sure San knew he wasn’t always the best boyfriend to you, but he could do so much better than whatever your boyfriend was attempting. Based on how giddy you looked, you probably haven’t seen him or spent much time with him lately, or so San thinks.

He remembers like yesterday hearing you tell him that you couldn’t be with him if he didn’t change, and at the time he couldn’t understand what that meant. He thinks he’s matured since then, at least in the way you wanted him to but seeing another man touch you made him realize maybe he has a lot more growing to do if he wanted to stay true to his claims.

He excused himself and made his way over to you. There was nothing wrong with going to talk to his absolutely beautiful ex girlfriend right? Your eyes widened seeing the broad shoulders clad in white approaching you. Your stomach twisted in knots, from both anxiety and flashbacks of your last encounter with him.

“Fancy seeing you here gorgeous.” San reached his point of interest, staring down the man at your side.

“San…how wonderful it is to see you.” You spoke with a forced smiled, trying your best to slow your heart rate. “How’s life treating you?”

It really was quite the surprise seeing him here, as this was the last place you thought to be bumping into him. It got you thinking what this event was for and how the hell he was even invited. Maybe, as you were, he was just someone's plus one. Although, that didn’t take away from the fact that you didn’t want to see him right now, especially knowing how weak you were for him still.

“Hmm it could be better if a certain someone was still in it.”

At that, your boyfriend turned to San, lip turned up in annoyance, “Do you know this guy babe?”

He and San exchanged fighting glances and you stepped in before things could get heated. “Yeah he's…an old friend. This is San.” You weren't sure why you lied, but it felt better to not reveal too much.

Your boyfriend extends his hand out to San reluctantly and San rolls his eyes before finishing the handshake. Things went well for the most part, although you would catch San staring at you, even throwing in a wink one of the times. Luckily your boyfriend caught none of it, knowing it definitely would have engaged his fight or flight response.

After a while, your boyfriend received a call on his phone and he excused himself saying it was important. You dismissed it and he gave you a kiss on the cheek before he walked away. San caught glimpse of the interaction and sneakily followed behind him through the heavy back doors. You stood by yourself at the table, taking small sips of your champagne. A hand slides across the small of your back and rests on your left hip. You turned expecting your boyfriend, only to see San with an unreadable expression. You tried to sidestep out of his hold but he tightened his grip on you.

“Hey don’t leave yet, we haven’t even gotten the chance to really talk beautiful.”

“Yeeeah…San we can’t be doing this right now.” You put a hand up to his chest and he backs away slightly.

“Doing what? Talking? He won’t let you talk to your friends?”

You scoffed, “No, he’s not controlling. And we’re not friends. It’s just I don’t know how comfortable I am talking to my ex who just put his arm around me.”

He rolled his eyes again, shifting his stance to prop a hand on the table, leaning against it to look at you. “Hmm well part of me thinks he doesn’t care.”

If only he wasn't starting to piss you off, you could finish admiring how good he looked. Wider shoulders, more defined arms and even his pecs were bigger. But you knew San and how he was when it came to you. He was possessive, sometimes it was for your own good but most times it just felt like he needed control over you in every way or he wouldn’t survive.

But you had to admit, that was his only flaw. Everything else about him was absolutely mind blowing, especially when it came to satisfying your needs. Your mind ran wild with thoughts. Thoughts of things you shouldn’t be thinking of as a taken woman. Yet, San making eye contact and the firmness of his chest under your hand earlier flooded you with memories of every time he’s fucked you into the mattress.

This was starting to get a bit out of hand and you weren't sure what else San had up his sleeve.

"You look good in your dress." He said looking you up and down, practically eating you with his eyes.

Come to think of it, he was the first to comment on your dress, your boyfriend hadn't mentioned it at all tonight. "Thank you, you also look very nice." You averted your eyes as you took another sip from the glass.

He stood up straight and stood a bit closer to you and rubbed a hand down your back as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, catching you off guard. It made it ten times worse with your dress being backless and the fabric dipping dangerously close to the waistband of your lace panties.

"If I were him, I'd take you somewhere to fuck you in it. Makes me wonder who he could be on the phone with right now. Think about it, if it were me, I would have my hands all over you.”

He was right. It was a fear that seeped into your subconscious every time he would miss one of your calls and blame it on work and how he acted in the limo earlier. He was starting to feel more than an arm's reach but you knew his job was demanding. So when he asked you to come out with him tonight, you decided to forget it all and allow yourself to have a great time and hope you would end your night moaning his name.

You hated San for bringing the thought back to you and you hated that his possessive personality was also a turn on at times but you knew better than to let yourself fall in his traps. A blush grew on your cheeks feeling the warmth of his breath tickle your ear. This was bad, you needed to stop him in his tracks before your boyfriend came back and questioned you. This had to end right here right now.

You pushed him into the nearest room, one you didn’t expect to be a bathroom, but anywhere was fine as long as no one saw where you went and with who. You carefully locked the door and turned to face him; he already had that arrogant smirk on his face.

“San what the hell?!” You shoved him on the chest. “I was hoping you weren’t going to cause any trouble, but I guess I was wrong. Why do you want to fuck up everything for me?”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Are you even happy? You melted right into my touch earlier.” He walked closer to you, pinning you between him and the sink. “I didn’t say anything wrong either, he's a joke of a boyfriend whether you want to admit it or not.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, "Oh what? you think you can do better?"

He stared down at you, face contort in a stern expression. “I know I messed things up for us, but I think we can both agree that he doesn’t deserve you.” He grabs your hand and slides it down his chest, all the way down to his crotch.

“Feel that? You miss it don’t you? He must not fuck you good enough. He must not fuck you how I used to.”

“San…” he put a finger to your lips.

“Oh baby…I can see it written all over your face. Just ask me and I’ll give you what you want.” He steps even closer to you and tilts your chin up with his finger. “Say you’re my slut and I’ll fuck you better than he ever could.” He lifted you and sat you on the edge of the sink.

So much for not falling into his traps. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he looked down waiting for your answer. “I’m your slut…San please…” you were damn near out of breath and your head was spinning with how badly you wanted it; wanted him.

A pleased smile spread on his face. “My good girl, I knew you could do it.” His fingers tapped onto your lips and you happily sucked on two while he kept eye contact. He took them from your mouth and used them to rub slow circles on your clit. “Good girls kiss daddy.”

He lowered his lips onto yours, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues danced together as he slipped his fingers into you. He wasted no time pumping them quickly against your sensitive spot, earning whines and whimpers.

“You need to forget him for a while and let me make up for all the shit he can’t do.” He spread your thighs and kneeled down between them. “I want you to remember this next time he even thinks he can do better than me.”

He kept eye contact while he licked along the slit of your still clothed pussy, stopping to suck harshly on the clit. You were holding your breath, your last resort for trying to keep in your moans. He hasn’t done much and your toes were already curling. He finally pushed your panties to the side and circled his tongue over your bundle of nerves.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer to you, bucking your hips slightly against his face. He grabbed your legs and made them rest against his broad shoulders, your heels digging into his back. He added a finger into the mix, breaching your walls in an attempt to get you louder. Surely it was working more than you'd have liked.

Your head leaned back almost hitting the mirror as your chest heaved. Your toes curled and you pulled harshly at his dark locks making him groan against your skin. He sat up and roughly rid you of your panties before shoving them in his pocket.

“You don’t need these anymore. On your knees.” The way he said it gave you no room to disobey, so you shakily hopped off the sink and he pushed you down onto your knees. He unzipped his pants, letting his dick pop free. Thick and heavy looking as always and now you wanted nothing more than to wrap your lips around it. He grabbed your chin in his hand, “Open.”

You opened your mouth to let him spit in it, he loved messy head and he knew you did it best. He wasted no time in shoving his dick into your mouth and almost down your throat. He gathered your hair in his fist and bobbed your head at a quick pace.

“Go ahead, touch that pussy while I fuck your throat. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

He knew how much you loved to be dominated, it was easy for him. The look of you on your knees gagging on his dick only made him harder and want to fuck your throat faster, but he wouldn’t be satisfied if you left this bathroom before he got to bend you over.

He pulled you off of him admiring the tears brimming your eyes and the puffiness of your lips. It was crazy to think that your boyfriend was the one sleeping next to you every night and San’s bed was empty. He deserved you more than some man who he found saying “I love you” on the phone with another woman. He deserved to fuck all your worries away. If you gave him a second chance, he would do better. Better than anyone else ever could. You were his forever and you seemed to have forgotten that, but he didn’t mind reminding you.

“Bend over the sink.” He kissed along your spine when you did, your eyes closing in ecstasy. “You ready for this dick?” He was so close, lips ghosting over your ear sending shudders down your back.

As soon as the word “yes” left your mouth, you felt the head of his dick rub harshly between your folds. Your chest felt tight, your heart was beating fast and you could barely keep your eyes open. He kissed in the crook of your neck making you look at him through the mirror as he slid in until he bottomed out. You could cum just from that small movement alone but you’d much rather wait until he fucks you right.

“You missed this didn’t you?” He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in causing you to yelp from the sudden action. “I missed this pussy…I missed you.” His thrusts sped up to a demonic pace, the wet noises from the constant slapping of skin filled the bathroom effortlessly.

“S-san it feels so good~” you said through moans.

“I know baby, but I’m sad because you’re not using my name.” He used his other hand to wrap around your neck. He squeezed and made you even more lightheaded; It was perfect. “You didn’t forget it did you?”

“N-no Daddy n-never.” It was true and it was why you were never able to use it for your boyfriend. As much as you tried to forget San and how much he consumed your life, it was hard.

He tightened his grip on your hips and rolled his into yours. Of course it was wrong, but this is the most pleasure you’ve felt in a long time; admittedly since the last time you were with San. He had a way of handling you that set your senses on fire. He was exactly what you wanted and with the expectation of getting fucked tonight, you didn’t want to foil your own plans.

“Look how I fit right in. This pussy is mine forever."

He raised one of your legs onto the sink and grabbed a fistful of your hair, continuously plunging into you. Your eyes were rolling back and he patted your cheek, bringing your attention back to him.

“Mm mm, look at you. Look how pretty you look fucked out on my dick. Watch me fuck you just how you like.”

You didn’t want to see yourself in this state, it only made it feel more real. Your tongue lolled out slightly, one strap of your dress draped low on your shoulder and he held one of your breasts roughly. It was a lewd sight to say the least and the sounds that were coming from the speed San was fucking you made it no better.

There was a knock on the door and your head tried to whip in that direction but San tugged harder on your hair. He quickly told the person on the other side of the door that it was occupied, not expecting for them to say anything back.

“Y/N are you in there?” The voice of your boyfriend grated against your ears like nails on a chalkboard. You were guilty and moaning like you were unable to produce any other sound.

San’s eyes darkened and he smiled wickedly. “Oh yes she is and she’s busy.” He leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “Let’s put on a show for him, let him know who owns this pussy.”

He sped up his thrusts and quickly rubbed on your clit. You squirmed in his hold, trying to do everything you could to not scream from the pleasure. Nothing worked and now your boyfriend and maybe several other people could hear what you and San were doing.

“This pussy all for me?” He was an expert with how he rolled his hips into you; he was so deep and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

“Fuck Daddy, yes! It feels so good!” Your legs were like jelly and your orgasm was a few more thrusts away.

“You’ll never find someone who can fuck you like this? Who can make you beg for it?”

You whimpered loudly in response. You thought it wasn’t possible but he fucked you harder, fucked you faster and with the abuse on your clit there was no more delaying your bliss. You came hard, squirting onto the floor and partially on the man behind you. Your walls were squeezing him so tightly and he loved every single second.

"You gonna let me cum inside so you can take me home with you, hmm?" His thrusts were getting sloppier but he never slowed down and never stopped rubbing your clit.

The overstimulation and the way he spoke to you was driving you mad, you didn't think about anything else in this moment besides making this a night to remember.

"Yes Daddy fill me up, please please please!" You knew he loved it when you begged, especially for him to empty all his cum in you. Tonight was no different and he came in a few more thrusts.

"You did so well baby, took it so well." He gave you more kisses to your shoulder as he gently pulled out and let go of your leg.

By this time your boyfriend was already banging on the door, demanding that you let him in. San made sure to clean the both of you up before he let you out of his sight. You walked to the door, taking a deep breath as you unlocked it; San close behind. Your boyfriend looked like he could pop at any second with how red his face was.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You see one old friend and you let him fuck you in the bathroom? IN PUBLIC?!"

He almost shoved at your arm, but San does it to him first. "I don't suggest you follow through with that. And maybe next time you should make sure your girlfriend is happy before you start running your mouth."

"That IS my girlfriend, back the fuck off!"

"Oh her?" San points and quickly glances in your direction. "No, she's mine, I was referring to the one you were on the phone with, but maybe you're already forgetting about her too."

And with that, your now ex-boyfriend had nothing left to say but apologize to you as you walked away with San. Maybe all things did come to an end, but perhaps for good reason.

[joelscurls]

stalemate

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

words: 7.2k

summary: Frankie Morales is your best friend — until a drunken hookup tears you apart.

warnings: 18+ minors dni; friends -> enemies -> lovers, TF characters without the TF plot, no Tom (in this house we hate Tom), alcohol consumption, smoking, angst, jealousy, pining, Frankie & reader being idiots in love, explicit smut, size kink, brief mentions of drunk sex, bad / regretful sex (between reader & OC), oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, multiple orgasms, use of pet names (bebita, querida, baby, etc.), grilled cheese as a love language, happy ending, I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything!

a/n:  thank you so much to @javisashtray & @pedgito for beta-reading this for me <3 this is for all my frankie lovers out there (aka bitches with good taste). dividers are by cafekitsune. follow @joelscurlsupdates for fic notifications! enjoy :)

Frankie Morales makes the best grilled cheese you’ve ever had. Perfectly golden bread; gooey, melty cheese — just the thought of it makes you drool. He says he has a secret ingredient. Won’t let you in the kitchen while he cooks for you, lest you find out. 

Sometimes, upon entering his apartment, you can already smell melted butter. He’ll have started on one without even asking if you want it. He knows you always do. 

Sit, he’ll shout from the other room. I’ll be right there. Feel free to put something on — but please, not 13 Going on 30. You’ll thank him and question his distaste for Mark Ruffalo in the same breath: you’re the best, but it’s not my fault Matty is the dream man.

He’ll bring you the wafting plate along with a Corona, and insist that you eat before it goes cold while he makes one for himself. Ever the gentleman, ever the friend — at least he was.

Because the two of you haven’t spoken in a month; not since the drunken hookup that you’re both pretending didn’t happen.

You’d laughed the entire cab ride home from the bar. That last round of tequila shots had left you feeling good, all warm and giggly, and Frankie mirrored you in the backseat with his drunken grin. Eyes glassy, lips pulled wide, he’d smacked you lightly on the shoulder as you recalled Santiago’s pitiful loss in that third game of pool. “When he pocketed the eight-ball…” he trailed off into another fit of laughter. 

“And then—“ you attempted, voice caught in your throat as another giggle barreled out. “—the cue hitting his drink!” Your entire body folded over, hands braced on Frankie’s thighs as the two of you struggled to regain composure. Through labored breaths, you squealed. “He’s never going to live that down!”

After a few particularly stressful months at work, you lived for these nights out with your friends. You’d met Frankie through your best friend Mal, who was dating his friend Benny, and your circles had eventually meshed into one. Sometimes it felt like it had always been that way, like you’d known the guys your entire life.

Especially Frankie.

Your friendship was a special one — punctuated by frequent trips to the movies to watch the latest horrible slasher film; by nights spent yapping on the phone about nothing in particular. He’d become a constant in your life. Never, in your right mind, would you even dream of doing anything to jeopardize that— 

“You look really hot tonight, by the way.”

He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have. But then it was you who leaned in closer, you who rested your hand on his hip and plucked the Standard Heating Oil cap off his head, placing it atop your own.

It was you who kissed him first.

He deepened it though — that was all him — large, restless hands grasping at your sides, your back, your face; tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to press against yours. He’d groaned into your mouth when the cab stopped at the curb in front of your building. Cursed under his breath when you pulled away.

And then, your voice ragged and breathless, you’d asked, “do you want to come in for a bit?”

It was a mistake. A horrible, blissful mistake. Waking up with sticky thighs and Frankie’s thumbprint bruised into your hip, you’d found his side of the bed cold; your inbox empty. He hadn’t called, hadn’t texted. Still hasn’t.

The aftermath is cursory glances. Half-assed greetings and pleasantries murmured across the bar. Which you don’t mind, really. You don’t want to speak to him. He’d probably just feed you some lie about losing track of time, not remembering what happened that night.

You wish you could forget it.

The visual is fuzzy; fleeting. But his voice — god, his voice — it still rings in your ears, drips at the nape of your neck like a leaking tap: fuck, baby, knew you’d take my cock; feel so good wrapped around me.

Your friends don’t know. They can’t; they wouldn’t let you live it down. Benny has made plenty of offhand comments already about you and Frankie being perfect for each other, having the same stubborn disposition. Mal does nothing to shut him up. Instead, she encourages him. Tells him he’s so right. 

You’re pretty sure your eyeballs are going to fall out someday from glaring too hard.

Because you’re not perfect for each other — far from it, actually. Fuck, you can’t even communicate effectively. How could you ever be in a real relationship? 

Not that you want that. Frankie is…well, Frankie. Sure, he’d felt undeniably incredible on top of you, inside of you — but he isn’t the type to settle down. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever heard Frankie talk about dating. 

Besides, he’s clearly not interested in being anyone’s anything right now. Not even your friend. 

It hurts; cuts deeper than you care to admit. Just weeks ago, you’d spent an entire weekend at his place, marathoning the X Files and gorging on cold pizza. Now, he won’t even look your way for more than a few seconds. 

Won’t make you a fucking grilled cheese.

It’s a Friday night, which means you’re meeting your friends at Sid’s. The glow of neon seeping through the windows of the old dive bar is warm and inviting as you step out of your rideshare and make your way toward the doors.

Frankie is sitting at the bar with Santiago when you enter. Hunched shoulders, narrowed eyes trained on his bottle of Corona, he appears detached from whatever Santi is saying to him. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you stroll up to them — not until his friend’s hand lands hard on his back, pulling his attention away from the beer. He offers a half-assed hello and an even more half-assed half-hug, and then he’s sliding back onto his barstool. 

Ever-oblivious, Santiago doesn’t seem to notice the way Frankie curls in on himself; the way your back is up like an agitated cat’s.

Mal and Benny turn up minutes later, immediately ordering a round of shots for the group. You down the liquor eagerly, not bothering to lean on salt and lime to numb the sting. You want to feel it. You order another before joining Mal and the guys at a pool table in the back, letting the acid slide down your throat with no more than a wince as Santi racks the balls.

“Alright Fish, you’re up,” he says. “Me and you. Whoever loses buys the next round.”

You watch as Frankie quirks a brow at him. Takes a swig of his beer. “You sure you want to make that bet, Pope?”

Santi grins; nods confidently. “Hell yeah, I do.” The rest of you don’t bother to suppress your laughter. You catch a glimpse of Frankie, head thrown back, his broad, glistening neck exposed, and you have to fight to ignore the sudden panging in your chest.

When Santi inevitably loses, you order a vodka soda. You’re already feeling a bit tipsy after two shots in less than twenty minutes, so the drink goes down smooth; quick. There’s a rush to your head as you settle back at the bar and fiddle with the wrapper to your straw, letting the slightly soggy paper roll between two fingers.

You barely notice when Frankie slots in a few seats down, your attention drawn only when you hear his voice. It’s deep — sounds just like it did when he had his chest pressed to your back in the dim light of your bedroom — and his intonation nearly gives you whiplash. 

When you snap your head up to look at him, you find he’s speaking to a woman. Her back is turned to you, long, dark hair tossed over her shoulder and her elbow resting casually on the bartop, but you imagine she must be beautiful by the way Frankie is visibly fawning over her. You’re staring, you hear her tease. Can’t help it, comes his reply.

Something like discomfort builds in your throat. Rises up up up. You take a long sip of your drink, letting vodka and sugar push it down. 

You’ve never seen Frankie flirt with anyone, apart from you. It’s strangely unsettling, listening to him smooth-talk her. I’m a pilot, you know, he brags; could take you up in the sky someday if you wanted. Her giddy squeal comes seconds later; really? You’d do that for me?

You feel bad for her. She doesn’t know yet that all he’ll do is disappoint her.

He feeds her lines as you sip on your drink, citrus and grain burning only when he tells her: yeah, I came with friends; they’re all over there. Gestures toward Benny, Mal and Santi standing around the pool table in the back.

Scoffing, you stand from your seat at the bar and retreat to the patio. You don’t bother to check if Frankie is looking. 

It’s cooler here, a sobering breeze carrying salt air with it as it wafts by. A few patrons have spilled outside, most smoking on faintly glowing cigarettes as they talk and laugh boisterously among themselves. You’d planned to sit alone, to plant yourself on a bench and enjoy your drink in solitude. But then a stranger is approaching you — a man, cigarette grasped between two of his fingers — and he’s asking you for a light.

He’s in his mid thirties, if you had to guess. Curly, dark hair sprouts every which way from his scalp; rounded, green eyes studying you as he awaits a response. He’s tall, though not as tall as Frankie.  His shoulders aren’t nearly as broad and his chest isn’t quite as wide. His t-shirt hangs loose around his torso, swallowing his narrow frame — dissimilar to the way Frankie’s button-down clings to him. 

Then again — why are you even comparing? Maybe the opposite of Frankie is exactly what you need. 

You’ll have to seduce this stranger first, though. Not that it seems like it’ll be very difficult. His eyes are already raking over you, lips turned up at the corner as you take a casual sip of your drink.

“I don’t smoke,” you admit apologetically. 

“Ah — that’s alright.” 

He has an accent; midwestern, maybe? You don’t bother to ask. You don’t care, really. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is—

“You here all by yourself?”

“Yeah,” he laughs at your lack of subtlety. “Are you?”

“No,” you say. “My friends are inside.” Lowering your voice, you add, “but I was thinking about leaving soon.”

“Why’s that? Early morning tomorrow?”

You shake your head. Rub at your neck as if working out a knot, a contented hum pushing past your lips at the press of fingers into skin. Your stranger’s eyes trail rather conspicuously downward.

“Just over it,” you sigh exasperatedly. “I’d much rather be home…in bed…out of these clothes.”

You pull gently at the strap of your dress, as if you can’t bear the sensation of it against your shoulder any longer.

Your stranger’s gaze darkens, and the grip on his box of cigarettes grows tighter.

“You uh — want some company — once I find a light?”

Too fucking easy.

“Sure,” you giggle.

He slips away only for a minute or two, giving you just enough time to second-guess yourself. You know nothing about this man, not even his name; only that he smokes American Spirits and smells like tobacco. Should you really go home with him? 

But then you think of Frankie inside  — talking up a woman at the bar, pretending that you don’t exist — and that just about makes up your mind for you.

Your stranger reappears, now-lit cigarette dangling from his lips. The tip of it rages red and angry, and you think you know how that feels.

He smirks at you as he stuffs the pack into the front pocket of his jeans. An unceremonious silence hangs in the air as he sucks on the filter and puffs out a string of smoke. You wait patiently for him, quietly. 

He snuffs the butt of his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. Takes your empty cup and discards that too. 

Can’t wait to get you home, he whispers in your ear then. You feign arousal, peering up at him and batting your eyelashes. Me neither, you mewl. Let’s go.

You lead him back through the bar, finding Mal and letting her know that you’ll be going. She seems a little perplexed, quirking a brow at you as you grip tightly onto your stranger’s arm, but she tells you to have fun anyway. Text me, she mouths as you make your way to the exit.

You only get a few feet, though, before you’re intercepted.

Frankie is blocking the door, arms crossed, a panic-stricken look on his face that you can’t quite comprehend. “Hey,” he says, “can I talk to you real quick?”

Your stranger backs off. Lets go of your arm and starts out the door. “I’ll wait outside,” he says, slipping away with a wink before you can protest.

The bar is bustling with noise, people in every corner drinking and laughing and dancing. Strangely, though, you’ve never felt so alone. So vulnerable. And you hate that Frankie has this power over you, the innate ability to make you feel so fucking small. It’s infuriating, it’s—

“Are you sure you want to leave with him?”

“Excuse me?” you scoff. 

Frankie stares you down, face red, eyes inky-black. “You don’t know this guy, do you? What if he’s a murderer or something? Or like — a pervert?” 

He’s grasping at straws, you know it. It’s why you laugh; roll your eyes. 

“What are you, my keeper?”

“No, it’s just — I’m just concerned for your safety, okay?”

You’re briefly stunned. After weeks of ignoring you, he cares about your wellbeing? How can he be so hypocritical?

“I’m fine,” you bite back. “Why don’t you go back to your girl at the bar? Worry about getting yourself some instead?”

He’s wounded, if only slightly. His lips part like he might retaliate, but he’s silent. Dejected. Satisfied, you brush past him. March out the door without so much as a parting glance.

Finding your stranger leaning against the bar’s brick exterior, you force a smile. He outstretches a hand and you take it, reluctantly. “Ready to go?” he asks. 

You’re not so sure anymore, but you nod anyway. Squeeze your stranger’s bicep and preen under his lustful gaze when he tenses in your grip. “Yeah,” you purr. “I’m ready.”

Cold air bites at your toes the following morning. It wakes you from a deep slumber; bitterly pulls you into consciousness. Confused, you yank at the covers. But a mysterious weight holds them in place, and only then do you remember then that you’re not alone. 

Eyes sliding open reluctantly, you scan the room. Your dress from the night before is draped over the chair in the corner, your stranger’s clothes piled up on the floor nearby. He snores next to you, an arm raising to hang above his head, and you shift. Slip out of bed and pull a t-shirt on before padding into the bathroom.

Early morning light spills across tile, bounces off the mirror above the sink. You squint, shuffling over to the window and yanking the blinds closed. Then you check for damage in your reflection. Your makeup from the night before has stained your cheeks and your eyes look as tired as you feel, but otherwise there appears to be no physical evidence of your rock bottom.

The sex wasn’t great — not even good, really. Your stranger had lasted all of three minutes, had fanned his hot breath across the shell of your ear as he came, and then collapsed on top of you. Rolled over and drifted to sleep. He’d started snoring before you could even process what had just happened.

Cold water splashed across your cheeks does nothing to cool the burn of regret that scorches your skin. You feel uncomfortable, almost as if your body is tainted, now, remnants of your stranger leaking from between your thighs as you steady yourself at the edge of the sink. 

He must’ve heard the tap, or maybe the pounding in your chest, because he emerges seconds later. He yawns and stretches, feline-like, in the doorway. “Hey,” he mutters. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good,” you say, eyes twitching slightly as you will them to stay put above his waistline. 

“You always up this early?”

You nod. It’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that you’d nearly jumped out of bed at the sight of him still there. He doesn’t need to know that for a split second, you’d almost hoped it was Frankie.

He asks if you want to get breakfast. You shake your head in faux-sympathy. “Sorry, can’t. I was hoping to get some cleaning done.”

“I could stick around and help,” he offers. 

Jesus Christ. Just take the fucking hint.

“That’s so nice of you; I’m just more efficient by myself,” you lie again. 

If Frankie were here, he’d grab the cleaning rags out of the closet just off the kitchen. He knows where they’re kept: second shelf, on the left. He’d wipe down the counters and the coffee table while you’d work on clearing dishes, disposing of pizza scraps. And he’d probably put on his dad-rock playlist — against your wishes — though you’d inevitably find yourself dancing to Foo Fighters and giggling when he’d sing along and mess up the words.

It begins to sink in then, as you shoo your stranger, now dressed, out the door, that your attempt to use sex as a way to get Frankie out of your head was useless. He’s still there, refusing quite adamantly to budge, all mussed curls and big eyes and deep voice. There’s no evidence that he’ll be leaving any time soon.

The revelation renders you nauseous. You spend the rest of the day with a hangover that you’re sure has not been induced by alcohol. And by the time night falls, darkness descending over your bedroom like a fog, you still feel sick.

A week later, you drag yourself to Benny and Mal’s for their monthly game night. You’d tried to get out of it, told Mal you haven’t been feeling great — which isn't a total lie — but she’d begged you until you broke. 

Will is coming, and it’ll be the first time we’ve all gotten together in over a year, she’d whined through the receiver. 

And then-

I know things were weird between you and Frankie last time at the bar, but you can’t let that stop us from seeing each other.

How do you know that, you’d asked, chewing on your bottom lip, the phone tucked between your ear and your shoulder.

He basically moped around the rest of the night after you left. Kept bitching about you leaving with that guy. He seemed really…agitated. You don’t have to tell me what happened, just please don’t bail.

So you’re here, steeling yourself as you climb the steps to the front door, hoping that if nothing else, you can make it through the night without strangling Frankie for his lack of discretion. 

You enter the house with baited breath.

Your eyes immediately catch Frankie, tucked into the corner of the sectional, fingers wrapped tightly around his beer. He meets your gaze briefly before letting it slip to the floor by his feet, as if he’s trying to pretend he hasn’t seen you at all. 

“Hi,” you try.

He looks back up at you, or rather past you. Taps his fingers along the bottle for a long moment. “Hey,” he says finally, to the wall behind your head.

“How have you been?” the words come out forced, almost foreign. You shift your weight awkwardly and he sighs. 

“Fine. I’m fine.” 

“Right,” you mutter. More silence. “Me too, in case you were wondering.”

“Good,” he says, voice cold. “That’s good.”

You’re not sure whether you want to slap him or kiss him. Because as infuriating as he’s being right now, he looks gorgeous, denim shirt hugging his biceps, his shoulders; stray curls peaking out from under that stupid Standard Heating Oil hat. You yearn to rip it off his head, run your fingers through his hair, nip along the sharp line of his jaw; the broad expanse of his neck.

You long to feel something other than the prominent ache that’s permeated your body for weeks, now. And you fear that he’s the only one who’d be able to alleviate it.

Your mouth opens again just as Benny emerges from the kitchen. Whatever words you were about to utter are lost in the ether as he pulls you into a suffocating hug and thanks you for coming. 

“Mal’s in the kitchen,” he says. Grabs a handful of Lays from a bowl on the coffee table and shovels them into his mouth. Still chewing, he adds, “we got those wine coolers you like; they’re in the fridge.”

With a hurried thanks, you slip away unscathed.

You find Mal crouched in front of the open fridge, rustling through a produce drawer stocked with beer cans. 

“Hey,” you announce. 

She seems almost surprised to see you when she cranes her neck toward your voice, despite your promise to show. Eyebrows raised, mouth slightly agape, it’s as if she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. She pulls another drawer open. Fishes out a wine cooler and passes it to you with an outstretched arm. 

You take it in one hand. Help her up with the other. 

“You’re here,” she says, and it sounds like more of a question than a statement. 

“Yeah. I said I would be.”

“I know, I know. It’s just — I wasn’t sure. The whole Frankie thing…” 

“It’s nothing; I promise,” you lie. “Water under the bridge. We’re fine.”

She quirks a brow at you, disbelief coloring her features, but she lets it go. Closes the fridge with a thunk and adjusts her sweater at the hem. “Good,” she says. “I don’t want you two ruining game night.”

It’s half a joke, but you know deep down she means it. She takes this all very seriously. Back in college, she’d forced you and your suitemates to play Cards Against Humanity with her every weekend. None of you had the heart to tell her when it started to grow monotonous, and so the tradition carried on well past graduation, eventually evolving into a new tradition with new friends.

Games bring people together, she’d said once over a round of Monopoly that had stretched well into the night, resulting in delirious laughter and a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest.

You’d believed her at the time. Now, you’re not so sure that it’s foolproof.

The two of you rejoin the guys in the living room, Santiago and Will having shown up in your absence. You greet them as Benny pulls out a stack of game boxes. Settle on the couch, as far away from Frankie as you can manage.

It starts during the second round of Charades. 

The first round had gone fine — good, even. Teamed up with Santi and Will, you’d avoided eye contact with Frankie for the whole of it. Focused only on guessing Santi’s horribly-mimed clues in between handfuls of trail mix and sips of watermelon-flavored bubbles.

It’d felt a bit like old times, all of you in one room again. Mal snuggling into Benny on the loveseat; Will catching his brother up on time spent touring the country, giving motivational speeches to recently discharged veterans. He’d asked you how you’ve been as Santi studied his next word, and you’d remembered then that everything was very much not how it once was.

And you hadn’t missed Frankie’s discomfort at the question; the way he set his beer bottle down on the table with a bit too much force, glass clanging against wood. Though if Will noticed too, he hadn’t said anything. Just moved into a story about some woman he met on the road that reminded him of you.

Santi’s turn had ended with a whopping zero points for your team, and now Frankie is standing at the front of the room, unfolding the scrap of paper in his hand and reading it to himself. In the lull, you find yourself staring at him, eyes near glazing over at the sight of the tiny paper pinched between long, thick fingers. Fingers you remember the reach of, the weight of. 

He crumples the paper and stuffs it into his pocket, signaling that he’s ready to go. Mal flips over the sand timer on the table. And you almost don’t notice at first when he starts, mind occupied by equal parts lust and annoyance, that he’s fucking mouthing the phrase.

You watch, enraged, as Benny squints to read his lips. He raises his hand excitedly and jumps to his feet; yells out the answer with a sureness that Frankie affirms with a nod. 

“That’s right. It’s the Empire State Building.”

“That’s fucking cheating!” you shout, a bit angrier than the situation calls for, and the room grows quiet. Fury coursing through you, you add, “are you fucking serious, Frankie?”

You feel the eyes on you; the awkward sheen you’ve cast over the room. Mal shifts across from you, glaring when you turn to face her, and you laugh defensively. 

“What, nobody else thinks that’s unfair?”

“Please,” Frankie sneers. 

“No, she’s right,” Santi tries — ever the peacemaker. “We’ll just add a rule going forward; no mouthing the words.”

“Fuck that,” you hiss. “I want their point taken away.”

Frankie scoffs from the other side of the room. “Bullshit! We earned that before the rule was added.”

You’re fuming now, standing to get a bit closer to his height; though he still towers over you. Mal is right on your heels, placing a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to placate you. You brush her off. Take another stride toward Frankie.

“There shouldn’t need to be an official rule against it, Frankie. It’s common fucking sense — which clearly, you have none of.”

Visibly offended, he says nothing. Just tenses his jaw.

“Why did you come tonight?” you continue, voice more level now; direct. 

You hear your name uttered behind you, tone pleading, warning. You ignore it. 

“Seriously, why?”

He’s quiet for a long, drawn-out moment, eyes pointed at the floor again.  

“What are you talking about?” he spits, finally. 

You laugh, amused and irritated, and these things somehow feel one in the same. “I mean, clearly you don’t want to be in my presence or even acknowledge my existence — unless it’s to cockblock me — so why are you here?”

His brows furrow; lips twist. For a second, you think he might actually leave. He adjusts his cap, jangles the car key in his pocket — but Benny stops him before he can take a step.

“Just — cut it out, okay? Both of you.”

“He’s the one-“

“I don’t care,” Benny interjects. Scanning the room, you catch sight of Santi and Will and Mal, all visibly agitated, and you sigh.

Guilt washes over you, then. The twisting of Santi’s face, Mal’s doleful stare, the wordless look exchanged between Benny and Will. All confirm your fear that you’ve effectively ruined their night. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. 

Frankie echoes your apology. Still, the others aren’t impressed. 

“I don’t know what’s been going on lately with you two, but you need to figure this shit out,” Benny says. He sounds like a parent: stern and slightly disappointed. “Can you please just — go in the other room and talk through it?”

Though you haven’t much cared for Frankie’s opinion as of late, you still turn to him to gauge his reaction. He appears just as hesitant as you are, just as guilt-stricken. But something more lurks behind his eyes — something like fear, anxiety. Why, you aren’t sure.

You raise a brow at him, a wordless question. He answers with a sigh. 

“Fine,” you both say at once.

“Thank goodness,” Mal chimes. Herding you two like cattle with a hand on each of your backs, she leads you out of the living room and into the adjoining hallway. 

Her voice drones behind you as you make your way toward the third door on the right. Shall we continue the game?

The guest room is primly kept. It appears almost untouched at first glance, though you know that to be untrue. You’ve stayed here before, after blurry nights spent drinking shitty gin and singing karaoke. That must’ve been years ago now, though, after Mal and Benny first bought this house, and you begin to wonder if your tumultuous friendship with Frankie only made you neglect your friendship with her. And that only adds to the anger stirring inside of you — because what was it all worth, if it’s ended up like this?

Frankie closes the door behind him with a click, and the air in the room feels exponentially thicker. 

“What the fuck was that?” you hiss. 

He scoffs. “Me? You’re the one who freaked out and started an argument over nothing!”

“It wasn’t nothing. You were cheating.”

“Please.” He rolls his eyes. Takes two steps toward you. “That’s not what this is about and you know it.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “so you are aware that you’ve been an asshole?”

He says your name, voice suddenly lower, softer. Your entire body tenses as you struggle to keep strong, to not think about how it sounded in your ear in the midst of pleasure.

“I wasn’t trying to be-”

You throw a hand up; silence him. “Well you have been,” you groan. “You’ve been a huge fucking asshole. You hurt me, Frankie. You were my best friend, and then you just… stopped returning my texts. You won’t even look at me when we’re in the same room together. Did you regret it that much?”

The room goes still. You watch as Frankie’s chest rises and falls arduously, his eyes settling on you. They’re dark, pupils blown wide, squeezing shut as he exhales long and hard.

“No.”

You quirk a brow at him, confused.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats, averting his gaze. “And that’s the problem — I didn’t regret it at all.” His eyes lift slowly, finding you again, voice more sure when he adds, “I’ve wanted it for a long time”

You can barely comprehend what he’s saying, your heart climbing its way out of your ribcage and up your throat. You gulp, feeling the shape of it there as saliva slowly slides past. 

He takes another two steps forward, mere inches from you now, and your breath hitches.

“Do you know how difficult it’s been to look at you without getting fucking hard?” he whispers. “How many times I’ve fucked my fist in the past month imagining it was you?”

Your mouth falls open, stunned. “That girl at the bar-”

He shakes his head. “I thought maybe if I fucked someone else, it would help.”

“And did it?”

“I didn’t — I didn’t go home with her,” he admits, a little bashfully. “I couldn’t do it.” 

His hand lifts, then, cautious and shaky. It finds its way to your face, grazes your jaw so softly you’d think you imagined it if you couldn’t see.

“Why not?” you squeak.

He nods, as if he’s finally accepting something he’s known to be true, admitting it to himself before he does so out loud.

“Because she wasn’t you.”

It feels as if your entire world has spun on its axis. 

Without thinking, you wrap your hand around Frankie’s neck and pull him toward you, crashing your lips into his with a groan. He’s quick to respond, desperately tangling his fingers in your hair and winding his tongue around yours, a broken moan slipping from his throat. 

For a long moment, that’s all it is. It’s clashing teeth and restless hands; the draw of blood and the taste of it, earthy and metallic on your tongue. It’s the two of you, reconciling for lost time and unshared feelings and the overlooked need for each other through tangled bodies. 

And when you finally pull apart, his lips are swollen and his eyes are glazed over, and you’re sure you don’t look much different.

“Frankie,” you whine as his mouth latches to your neck, warm and wet. He doesn’t retreat; just hums against you. 

“Need you,” you say breathlessly. “Need you to touch me.”

His large hand skates down your front, under the waistband of your leggings. He presses two fingers against your clothed clit, and your knees buckle. You lean into him, bracing yourself with a hand on his chest as he begins rubbing small, deliberate circles into cotton. 

Lips trailing up to your ear, he nibbles at the lobe. Presses his tongue just behind the shell of it and sighs. “Been wanting this since that night. Want to make you feel good. Want to do it right.”

You mewl in response, high-pitched and too loud, and you have to bite into his shoulder to keep from crying out again. He’s still working you toward the brink, pace relentless, beseeching you every time you buck into his hand. 

There you go baby, that’s it; I got you. 

You know he does, can feel the support of his unoccupied hand at the small of your back, holding you to his strong body. And god, how you’ve missed the feeling of it pressed to yours. You think that that alone could make you come.

You feel yourself slipping as your orgasm approaches, legs slumping underneath you more and more with every pass of his fingers. “Frankie,” you warn, teeth still anchored in his skin. “I’m going to-“

The words are muffled, but he gets it. Presses down harder and works his fingers faster. “Come on baby,” he growls in your ear, “come on.”

Your orgasm hits you so hard that you collapse, your body dead weight in Frankie’s grip as you writhe. He grasps onto you tightly, working you through it with his unyielding touch, swiping back and forth, back and forth as the final waves crest. 

You’re panting when it ends, and still when Frankie helps you to the edge of the bed. Perched there, staring up at him with glassy eyes, you realize you’ve never felt so sated and so needy at the same time.

“Frankie?”

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Please fuck me.”

He should probably say no. After all, you’re in your friends’ guest room, people just a few hundred feet on the other side of the door. But then again, he’s already made you come.

You watch him consider it, eyes flickering to the door and back to you, dark and deep and pooling with want. 

In the end, he can’t help himself.

“Can you be quiet, querida?” 

You nod, though you’re sure that even if you said no, he wouldn’t care. He’d do just as he’s doing now: pressing your shoulder, encouraging you to lay down on the bed; helping you pull your sneakers off, then your leggings, then your shirt; stepping back to marvel at your half-naked form before him. 

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and your entire body heats from the inside out. You feel like you’re on fire, his stare keeping you alight as he undresses down to his boxers.

He climbs over you with a hand on either side of your head, pressed into the mattress. The lip of his hat bumps you, and you immediately rip it off of him, tossing it aside and tangling your fingers in dark curls. 

You tug at them, dragging him down until his face is hovering just above yours, and he responds with a strangled moan. His body pressed to yours now, you can feel the weight of his hard cock against your clothed pussy. Your mouth finds his again in a languid kiss — slow and deep. You feed each other sighs and moans, taste each other’s longing. His hips roll into yours with every exhale, teasing you — reminding you, and you feel like you’re steadily going insane.

He pulls back, panting. Rests his forehead on yours.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at the strap of your bra. You nod furiously. Lift the upper half of your body so that he can undo the clasps.

Breasts suddenly exposed, you feel your nipples begin to harden. Frankie groans at the sight of them, so pert and needing. Wordlessly, he dips his head, buries his face in your chest. His tongue wraps around one of your nipples and you cry out, hand flying to your mouth in an instant. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan into your palm.

“Feel good?” he asks, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he shifts his focus to the other nipple. You feel so sensitive everywhere, the heft of his tongue going straight to your clit, and you can barely answer him. A shaky yes tumbles from your mouth — the best you can do. He hums, so low the vibrations burrow under your skin and barrel through you, and you keen at the sensation.

“God, you sound so pretty,” he sighs as he rolls one of your stiff peaks between two fingers. His other hand drifts down your body, dips between the two of you and pulls your panties aside. 

“Fuck,” he curses, fingertip brushing over your seam just barely. “You’re soaked, bebita. That all for me?”

“Mhm,” you whine. “All for you Frankie; fuck-“

He’s shifts down your body, hooks both arms under your legs and drags you toward him in one swift motion, leaving you no time to process before his tongue is on your pussy. “Have to taste you,” he babbles drunkenly, plunging into your leaking cunt and lapping at you.

“Oh, oh shit,” you moan as he drags his tongue up to your clit. “Please baby, please.”

“I know; I got you,” he soothes. Then he begins to lave your clit with the soft flat of his tongue, warm muscle encircling the throbbing nub. Wide eyes staring up at you, he observes intently. Responds to every sound, every tell with a switch in direction or an increase in pressure. He’s so attentive, so desperate to make you come on his mouth, and it sends you into a sort of delirium. 

Your second orgasm hits you out of nowhere, slams through your body with so much intensity, you don’t even have the strength to warn Frankie before your release is gushing all over his face and, undoubtedly, the bed below. 

He growls against your cunt. Comes up for air and kisses you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he tugs his boxers down and frees his aching cock. Notches at your entrance without detaching his lips from yours.

It’s a stretch — you recall it being so last time too — though the alcohol had done wonders to loosen your body. Now, you feel every devastating inch of him as he pushes in. He’s gentle. Tells you how good you’re doing as he feeds you more and more of his cock. There you go, that’s my girl, taking it so well for me. And for some reason, him calling you his nearly makes you come again. 

He notices the way you preen in response. Thumbs across the slope of your jaw as he settles inside you. “You like that, baby? Like me calling you mine?”

“Yes, Frankie — fuck. Want it.”

You don’t specify whether you mean him or his cock. You’re not entirely sure. Not that it matters. You know he’ll give you both, give you anything. Can feel it in the way he gazes at you through heart-shaped eyes as he lets you adjust to him.

 “So fucking beautiful, you know that?”

Your eyes roll back and saliva pools in your mouth. “God,” you breathe.

“I’m serious,” he says, finally beginning to move. The slow drag of his cock brushes your g-spot and you gasp. “Was so stupid before, fucking you drunk. Wanna remember every second, every noise you make, every inch of your perfect fucking body.”

“Jesus, Frankie.”

He pushes back in with one deep thrust. Sets a pace that, while not rough, definitely isn’t gentle. You begin to babble and writhe under him. Hook your legs around him so he can get even deeper.

He groans. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

“It’s so fucking good,” you cry. “Feels like fucking heaven, Frankie.”

“Nah, that’s you.” He lets his head fall on your shoulder, drives into you faster. Pants into the crook of your neck. “Perfect fucking pussy.” 

It ends all too quickly — with your fingernails dug into his back and his sweaty curls sticking to your forehead. Your cunt clenching around his cock, pulling his orgasm out of him just as yours begins to roll through you. You free fall from the cliff’s edge together, breathless moans spilling between your slotted mouths, his warmth flooding you and leaking from the place you’re still connected.

As the room around you slowly comes back into focus, you hear the sound of distant laughter. Benny’s boisterous chuckle and Mal’s much softer one. Clearly distracted, they’re likely blissfully unaware of what’s just happened. You giggle, covering your face as Frankie pulls out.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, prying your hands away. 

“We’re gonna have to get them a new bedspread. We just defiled this one.”

He stands, then, pulling you upright with him. You squeal as blood rushes to your head and your vision goes staticky. 

“Worth it,” he smirks. Gives you a chaste kiss. “Got my girl back.”

You dress and rejoin the group as inconspicuously as possible. Pray they don’t notice the way you’re wobbling on your feet, or the sheen of sweat that’s coated your skin. 

“You sort everything out?” Santi smirks knowingly as you reassume your place on the couch, Frankie settling back into the corner.

“Yeah,” he mutters, refusing to make eye contact. 

“It’s about time,” Benny shouts from the kitchen. Frankie’s head shoots up, pivots toward his voice.

“What do you mean?”

He emerges in the doorway with a shit-eating grin. Mal stifles a laugh from the loveseat.

“Just saying it’s about time,” he shrugs. “That’s all.” 

Shit; apparently you hadn’t been as quiet as you thought.

The others chuckle as you and Frankie exchange a mortified look. The embarrassment is short lived though, Will clapping his hands together, asking what game you all want to play next.

An hour later, after a couple rounds of Codenames and another wine cooler, you head out the door with Frankie right beside you. It feels odd, not hiding anymore. But more so, it feels right. 

He leans you against your SUV under silver moonlight. Kisses you with plush, soft lips against yours; restless hands roving up your sides. Pulls back with a suspiciously large grin.

You cock an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says. “Just glad I stopped being an idiot.”

“I don’t know about that,” you tease, and he smacks you gently on the arm.

“Come over?” he asks, his hand draped over your waist. 

You think on it for only a second. Nod. “Yeah. As long as you make me a grilled cheese.”

“That can be arranged.” 

end notes: thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider commenting and/or reblogging :)

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Can't Help Myself - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You make your boyfriend cum in his pants.💀

Contains: Making out, dry humping.

A/N: First off, this is a little short. My life has been a little crazy lately, and with the stress of moving and life in general, I kind of forgot how to write. This obviously isn't anything super crazy, but ya girl hasn't posted in a fucking MONTH and I'm trying to get back into writing so bear with me!

You knew that Ethan was a virgin before you started dating him. You were more than okay with waiting for him to be ready, because even though he’d never come out and say it, he really wanted it to be special, and the perfect time.

There were a few times when things would be getting a little hot and heavy between the two of you, and you’d always pull away before it could go past just making out, and Ethan was starting to get a little frustrated with it.

After a long day, Ethan was so excited to spend time with you. You watched a movie together and were cuddling on his bed in his dorm before a simple kiss turned into a very heated make out session. You were a little surprised when he pulled you on top of him, your legs resting on either side of his hips as you straddled him.

As his lips moved with yours, you felt his hand start to inch up underneath the back of your shirt when you pulled away and started to laugh.

“Why’d you stop?” he asked, his lips pouty as you shook your head.

“It’s not the right time, baby,” you said, as he sighed.

“How is it not the right time?” he questioned, as you rolled your eyes.

“Because Chad will be here soon. You don’t want to be interrupted, do you?”

“I mean…that sounds kind of hot,” he said, as you smirked at him.

“We can make out, but that’s it.”

“Fine,” he huffed as he clung to your shirt, pulling you back down to connect your lips again.

As you adjusted to get a little more comfortable, he gasped into the kiss. You were already turned on, and once you felt how hard he was underneath you, your pussy was throbbing as you squirmed against him.

You soon felt his hands on your hips, moving you back and forth. The friction it gave your clit had you craving so much more as you tried to hold in all the sounds that were building in your throat.

Before you knew it, your body had a mind of it’s own. You pulled away and looked down at Ethan as your hips rocked over his, a soft moan slipping past your lips at the feeling.

“Oh fuck,” he mumbled, as he watched the way you moved, the grip on your hips getting even tighter.

“That feel good?” you asked, as he quickly nodded and moved you even faster against him.

Part of you wanted to give in and give him what he wanted, but you knew you didn’t have the time. But once his mouth fell open and soft whimpers were flying out, you were sure that you could get him off just like this.

His brows were furrowing once you added more pressure, as moans started flying out of your mouth and his. He didn’t want to take his eyes off you, but once they started fluttering, it got a lot harder for him.

“Shit,” he groaned, as his legs started to move against the sheets underneath him.

“You gonna cum, baby?”

As soon as those words left your mouth, he let out a loud whine, his hips jerking a little underneath you as his eyes screwed shut. His chest was heaving as you giggled, a blissful smile playing on his lips before it turned to a frown.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” he said, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson as he refused to let his gaze meet yours.

“What do you mean?” you questioned, as you glanced down at the wet patch on the front of his sweatpants. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“I just came in my pants…that’s so embarrassing,” he said, as you ran your hands over his chest. “Fuck, when we actually do have sex, it’ll probably only last thirty seconds.”

“It’s okay if it does,” you said, as he finally looked at you. “And I like that I made you cum just from grinding against you like that. I think it’s hot.”

“Really?” he asked, his smile returning to his lips as you nodded.

“Yeah. It felt good for me, too,” you said, as he bit his bottom lip.

Just as he was about to speak again, the door opened as Chad walked on.

“Whoa,” Chad said, covering his eyes with his hand once he noticed you were on top of Ethan.

“We’re still wearing clothes,” you said, laughing a little as Chad peaked through his fingers to look at you and Ethan.

“I feel like I’m going to actually walk in on the two of you one day,” he said, sighing as he sat his stuff down.

“How do you know you didn’t just now?” you joked, as Chad snapped his head in your direction again.

“Wait…if you guys were going to do it, I can leave,” he said, as he started walking towards the door. “I didn’t mean to cock block.”

“We weren’t going to,” Ethan said, as he smirked at you. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I would like a copy of your schedule for whenever we do want to be alone.”

“Dude, just text me. I can hang out in the library or something,” Chad said, as Ethan scoffed.

“Do you even know where that is?”

[stevenose]

i’m high lol but here’s a little write up of what i posted here a few days ago!

contains: gender unspecified reader; blowjobs; inexperienced steve :0; steve losing his mind over a basic blowie

“bad day?”

“you don’t even know the half of it,” steve sighs. he lets his head fall back gently while you kiss from his lips to his neck. “sorry i’m late, know the movie was supposed to start at seven —“

“it’s okay.” you cradle his face in your hands. steve almost swoons. you look at him like you love him, and you’ve only been going steady and exclusive for a month. and he’s starting to look at you that way, too. “let’s stay in, huh? you’ve had enough of movies anyway.”

he laughs, hands resting on your waist. you kiss the side of his neck again, then all the way up to his ear. “need some stress relief?”

steve’s tummy flutters, cock stirring at even the slightest thought of you on top of him. “mhm,” he mumbles, squeezing your hips.

you hum and make your way back down his neck, taking your time now to suck on his skin. he relaxes, enjoying it, wondering when you’re going to move him from the kitchen to your bed - or at least the couch.

your hands make their way towards his waistband. you tuck your fingers underneath it and steve gasps a little. it’s embarrassing, but now he’s thinking you’re going to have him fuck you on the table. that you’re going to take him out right here and mount him on the tile and —

you’re dropping to your knees.

steve’s brows quirk. he looks down at you quizzically, the action not quite clicking with him. it doesn’t click until you’re pulling down his zipper and staying there, obedient on your knees.

oh. oh.

“hey!” steve says, a little panicked, taking a step back.

you’re taken aback by his reaction, holding your hands up and frowning at him. “steve, i’m sorry —“

“what - uhhhh - what were you, um, gonna do?”

you blink at him. pausing to see if you’re missing something. “give you head?”

steve swallows. the way his cock kicks does not go unnoticed by either of you. “oh. uh - um. no one’s ever really, you know. i’ve never had… that… before.”

he can tell you’re not understanding and his cheeks turn pink. “you haven’t had head?”

“well, no.”

your head quirks. “oh. i… would not have guessed.”

there’s a long silence. steve feels so stupid, turning you down like this, his zipper open and cock so hard it’s starting to bulge out. he looks down, then back up, and opens his mouth in an attempt to say something, anything, but he’s a little speechless.

“do you not like it? or has it never been offered to you?”

steve shakes his head.

“which one?” you push, your lips quirking up.

“um - it’s never really been suggested.”

your brows raise and fall quickly. “do you want to try?”

“wouldn’t it hurt?” he blurts out. feels his face turning red again.

“not usually,” you say. “what, steve, you think you’re gonna choke me with that thing?”

he nods slowly.

“you probably will,” you say, almost dreamily. his cock twitches again. “i think that’s sort of the appeal of it.”

“what if i… what if it feels so good i hurt you?”

you laugh now, resting on your heels. “i don’t really mind.”

he can’t believe he’s this freaked out over a blowjob. you’re just so sweet and pretty and steve’s a little reckless sometimes - knows there’s a strong possibility of him fucking your face, making you gag, making your eyes water and oh my god why am i getting harder?

“c’mere, steve,” you call, beckoning him with your finger. “if you don’t like it, i can stop.”

but when you start, christ. steve couldn’t possibly tell you to stop. not with the drool dripping down his cock and disappearing past his balls, not when his head feels so light and his stomach somersaults like this. you make him feel so good, taking nearly all of him into your mouth in relatively quick time. your hand grips the base of him, twisting it around his cock, your spit acting as lube.

he’s going to toss and turn all night wondering why you’re so good at this. who you practiced on. how jealous he is that he’s not been your first, your one and only.

but for now, he’s focused on not falling over. your hands grip his thighs. they shake, all the way to his ankles, and he doesn’t even have anything to fall back on. but he isn’t strong enough to ask to move to a seated position. he might explode if you stop for even a second.

“oh, baby, baby, baby,” he blabs. doesn’t even really know what he’s saying. head back, eyes closed, a hand tangled in your hair solely to stay grounded. he wants to fuck his hips so bad into the tight wetness of your throat but he knows better. that you’ll choke, splutter, get all teary eyed and oh my god why is that making me so hard?

steve steals a glance down at you and groans. your hair’s a mess, eyes wet when you look up and him. your chin spit-slick. “so goddamn pretty,” he breathes, gently scratching the top of your head with his blunt fingertips. “jesus, angel, that — shit, feels so good.”

he’s about to snap. you pull off of him, which is both a relief and a frustration. your hand moves, though, while you talk up at him, voice a little raw. “knew you’d like it,” you breathe. “you taste so good, steve. so pretty getting your cock sucked.”

steve gets real stupid when you give him attention. he’s just saying words now, no idea what they mean. just babble. he’s relieved again when his stomach starts tensing. doesn’t want to cum down your throat. jesus, that would be so embarrassing —

your mouth is back on him.

“babe!” he almost shouts. “oh, goddamn it - wait-! i’m gonna — i’m gonna —“

you look up at him. all determined. and he gets it.

and then he can’t stop.

he’s spilling into you, and you move his cock farther into your throat so he can really cum in it. but it’s like steve’s body acts on its own. his hand tangles harsh in your hair and he ruts his hips slow into your mouth, shallowly, tip just kissing your throat.

he feels disgusting about it ten seconds after he’s done. pulls his cock out of your mouth and moves his hand away from your head. “shit, i’m sorry, im so sorry, i didn’t mean to—“

“steve,” you say. voice so sexy, all fucked out. “that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever done.” you kiss his tummy, nuzzling your nose into it. “you can use my mouth anytime, you know.”

steve groans. wants to tell you to stop talking like that because he’s going to be hard again.

“you really are hard to take,” you continue, kissing across his skin to one of his hip bones. “going to have to train my throat to take it, stevie.”

and, okay. now he is hard again.

[jaylaxies]

ROMAN HOLIDAY

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, slight fluff, protected and unprotected sex, (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), cunnilingus, marking, creampie, mentions of petnames (princess, baby, darling, daddy), lots of kissing and brief mentions of smoking, stealing, running away from cops, drugs, somnophilia (consensual), etc.

WC: 10k words

SYNOPSIS: visiting your grandma’s place was more or less your entire plan for your summer vacations and only break you get before your university starts, although, meeting your neighbour, bickering with him and clutching his hand while running away from cops wasn’t in your bucket list.

PLAYLIST: welcome to wonderland by anson seabra, movement by hozier, if you let me by alina baraz, how to love by jen z, roman holiday by halsey.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my sweetest angels <3 i'm finally here with a jake fic which was long due! i hope you guys like it <33 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated :D loveyou all <3

Bagging a window seat for a day-long journey sure is a blessing, peculiarly when you have to stay sitting at your spot in a train for a sum of six hours. Nestled in your seat, you sit straighter when the scenic view of the sea water meeting the sky graces your eyes—which you capture on your phone’s camera with a soft smile. 

It felt as if it had been ages since you got out of your room, where you used to be cooped up during the entirety of your day, studying for your final year of school. 

Your parents were concerned. They were highly proud of you for achieving top honours, yes, but it was about time you went out and cherished your life a little before you got winded up in the stress of University yet again, which was to start in one month. 

And what’s a better place to spend your vacations at if not at your granny’s home? 

It was a few minutes past six when you finally reached your desired destination, dragging your luggage behind you as a swish of cold breeze hit you. It looked straight out of a movie with how the train station was lit up by old-fashioned lamps which radiated warmth just by glancing towards them.  

You hugged your cardigan tighter, walking out to find the taxi stand just outside the exit area of the station, pulling out your phone to show the driver the address you’d be meaning to go to. He was a kind man, helping you put your luggage into the trunk of his taxi. Your curious eyes looked out, observing how much the town had changed over the years. 

You were seven when you last visited her hometown. Ever since then, your grandma used to be the one who visited you in the city, at your place, however she did not wish to leave her town and move in with your family. You could see why she chose to stay here—the serene view, the freshness in the air, the tranquil surroundings, it made the corner of your lips curl up into a smile. 

It only got wider once the driver stopped his taxi in front of your grandma’s house. It was exactly how you had remembered it to be—a small but two story house with a big veranda which was lit up by fairy lights on the big bushes. The back door connected the path towards the small pool and then yet another door linked the beach from your backyard. 

Your grandma stood by the door with the fondest smile gracing her ever so beautiful face, a few grey strands fell on her face and you couldn’t help but get out of the taxi and run towards her, capturing her in an embrace. A hearty chuckle filled the air, the scent of your favourite cookies encapsulated you, making you wonder if she had baked a batch just for you as you snuggled further, her hand patting your head exactly the way she used to do ever since you were a kid. 

“I missed you, grandma.” Your expression said it all, and she looked more than happy to usher you in the house, saying how chilly the night was and you made sure to pay the driver, thanking him for his service as you dragged the luggage in. 

A wave of nostalgia hit you as your eyes wandered off to observe each corner, but your grandma didn’t hear any of it, making sure her granddaughter was well fed and rested after the long journey. 

She spent a good while telling you embarrassing stories of your father during dinner, which you listened to with delight, sharing your own stories with zeal before you climbed up the stairs, opening the door to the room you used to use each time you stayed over as a child. 

It didn’t change, the bed was still too big for you, the windows were spotless as if it had been cleaned frequently and the scent of old books paired with a tinge of vanilla filled your senses. Your body felt calm and you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this way. 

Calling your parents, you updated them by telling you had reached safely as you walked in the balcony, feeling comfortable in a sweatshirt and cotton shorts. The night sky resembled a velvet blanket full of glistening stars. 

However, a figure clad in all black captured your attention. It was a bit beyond one in the morning, which is why it was unsettling to see someone walk in such dim lights. The stranger made his way towards your neighbouring house, making you wonder if he lived there. 

Shrugging, you sighed. Sitting at one place for hours does tire your body, so you proceed to finally get into your cozy bed, setting an alarm before your grandma comes in to check if you require anything. 

“Sweet dreams my little peanut,” your grandma smiled, closing the door behind you as you replied back with a gentle voice. 

“Sweet dreams, Gigi!” It was a nickname you used for her, she found it lovely. 

The placid atmosphere and the distant sound of waves acted as a catalyst to your sleep, and you slept soundly, not knowing that the calmness was just a start to your inevitable venture—something no one could have prepared you for. 

You found yourself walking alongside your Gigi to visit the lady next door in the afternoon. She was a kind soul—as stated by your grandma, not to mention that she treated her like her own family, making sure to provide help whenever she could and that’s the reason why you were going to meet her. 

It wasn’t the first time; apparently you used to play in their veranda a lot as a child, which again, you didn’t remember. However, when the lady—Mrs. Sim, opened the door, the memories came rushing back to you. She was jolly, almost as if she was waiting for your arrival and soon, you were engulfed into a sweet hug. 

She called out your name in sheer excitement, leaning back to take a good look at your face, which sported a silly smile due to embarrassment. 

“Aw, love. You’ve grown into such a pretty young lady,” she gushed, ushering you both inside and into the living room area. 

“And you don’t look a day over twenty, Mrs. Sim,” you replied, not lying considering how youthful she appeared to be. 

Her smile only widened at your comment, “now, another word and I’ll be floating in the clouds,” she said, making you chuckle as you got engaged in a conversation, sipping on the cranberry juice which Mrs. Sim had so kindly offered you. 

It was decided that you’d be having lunch together, and you tried your best to help the two women in the kitchen but you were soon shoved out, saying you don’t have to do a thing and rest—that’s the purpose of your vacations. 

Which made you sit down and use your phone, scrolling through random apps and replying to all the texts. 

“Y/n!” Soon, you were called into the kitchen, and you poked your head in with a smile. 

“Yes, Gigi?” 

“Oh, peanut, can you please go upstairs and call Jake for lunch? It’s almost done.” She asked. 

You tilted your head in confusion, mind wandering back to the guy you had seen last night and you came to the conclusion that Jake might be Mrs. Sim’s son. 

You nodded, heading up the wooden staircase. Would you have to introduce yourself to him? Would it get awkward? You had no clue. 

Knocking on the door twice, you took a step back and patiently waited for the door to open and so, you tried again to no avail. You wondered if he had his headphones on, which left you with no choice but to open the door, peeking in slightly only to find the room empty. 

“Oh,” you let out, closing the door behind you for the sake of privacy. 

“He’s not in his room,” you informed Mrs. Sim. 

She sighed, serving a good portion of food for all of you, “I could have sworn he didn’t go out,” she shook her head as you three sat down. You let the elders start eating first and only then you picked up your chopsticks to do the same. 

“I haven’t seen him in a while, what’s the tough guy up to?” Your Gigi asked. 

“He’s busy enrolling himself into universities,” Mrs. Sim says, a sad smile taking over her face, “he says he doesn’t want to leave me and is aiming for nearby universities.” 

“My my, isn’t he a darling boy?” Your grandma praised while you chewed on your food, which melted right in your mouth, silently eating while hearing them converse. 

It didn’t take long for your grandma to ask them to come over for dinner the very next day, “it’s only fair that I cook for you too,” she argued when Mrs. Sim told her that she shouldn’t bother. 

This time, your grandma let you help with the cooking, and of course, you were sent to invite the Sims over for dinner. You hugged your white cardigan close to your body—the nights tend to get chilly. Walking over to the neighbouring home, you rang the bell and were greeted with the sight of Mrs. Sim, who actually dressed up for the little dinner party. 

“Oh, darling. Can you please call Jake down for dinner too?” She asked you as she was busy tidying up her own kitchen. 

“Of course,” you smiled. 

It was the second time you were heading up the stairs. This time, you were sure you’d be meeting the said boy. You found yourself standing right in front of his room yet again, gulping down your nervousness. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to introducing yourself to new people, school made sure you knew how to do that, however, your nerves were acting up. 

With a deep breath, you knocked on the door, twice—just like the last time. The difference, however, was that the door was opened in this instance. 

The scent of an intoxicating blend of masculinity and sophistication announced his presence, undertones of musk and wood laced up, providing him a complex aura altogether. 

A tall guy with parted black hair leaned against the doorframe, eyebrow perfectly raised in question, his arms folded as his honey brown eyes with the slightest speckles of gold stared your way, his plump lips soon curling up into what seemed to be an assortment of a smile and a smirk. 

“You must be Y/n,” he stated, standing up straight, which caused his muscles to flex enough to the point it was visible in his white button up. 

You licked your lips unknowingly, moistening them up before you nodded, extending your hand for him to shake, “pleasure meeting you, Jake.” 

His eyes travelled down from your face to your hand, a low chuckle left his mouth, him opening the door and stepping out, coming closer to you as he grabbed your smaller hand in his bigger, warmer ones in a firm handshake. 

“I can see why my mom can’t stop talking about you,” he said, making you tilt your head in question, eyes never leaving his face which was captivating. 

“And why is that so?” You asked, stepping back slightly as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. 

“Because you seem to be a good girl,” he breathed, making you go still as he leaned back with the same smirk, leaving you behind, walking down the stairs. 

Now, you didn’t expect the situation to turn out this way, yet you knew that talking to him further would only cause your head to hurt. 

What even made him think about you being a good girl?

Is it your outfit? Plain, loose jeans paired with a pink top and cardigan. It’s basic enough not to be categorized so easily. 

You scoff to yourself, already hating the situation as you walk downstairs, only to find Jake with a smile that genuinely looked sweet while he talked to his mother, helping her lock the door. 

“I see you met Jaeyun,” she smiled, and you nodded, sitting alongside her, not sparing a glance at the said boy as you didn’t even know his real name was Jaeyun. 

The table was set for four, which made you sit right across from Jake, who’s demeanour had changed as he complimented your granny, who laughed at his sweetness. 

“Here, have some more,” he says, serving another portion to your grandma, who cooed at his kind conduct at the table. 

He made sure to be on his best behaviour, only in front of others but when his gaze fell towards you, a bored expression overtook his features, which no one paid attention to. 

You rolled your eyes. It hadn’t even been a whole day since you met and yet the boy made you dread his presence. He wasn’t being straight up rude per se, however his actions weren’t subtle either just like how he completely ignored your existence during the entirety of the dinner. 

He offered to clean up, which included him having to clean up your plate as well, which was something he did with a frown on his face as Mrs. Sim endorsed that he should help with the household work. 

Both ladies were in awe of how well mannered Jake was, and it left you irritated to no end before Mrs. Sim called out your name softly. 

“Jake’s been acting distant lately,” she told you in a soft voice, making sure the said boy doesn’t hear you both, “and comes home late from his part time work, doesn’t share a lot these days too,” she sighs before looking at you softly, “you’re such a lovely girl, Y/n. I’m sure Jaeyun would love to have you as a friend he can rely on. Will you please look after him?” She asked, eyes sincere with worry for her son. 

Now, you were provided with two choices—one to say yes and agree, but you’d have to be in Jake’s proximity for that. The second one would be a plain no, which would sound disrespectful and insolent. 

So you put on your most convincing smile, which turned into an unadulterated one when you saw her being concerned about her son, “of course, I’ll do that, Mrs. Sim.”

“Oh please! Call me auntie,” she swatted her hand at your formal usage of name and you laughed, agreeing. 

Since the dinner was summed up now and the dishes were done, courtesy of Jaeyun; you were asked to walk them back home, which wasn’t even a two minute walk, however you couldn’t say no to your grandma and hence, you agreed. 

Mrs. Sim—or your auntie Sim, thanked you for the dinner, and proposed to at least have one meal of the day together each day, which you thought was a lovely idea given that you had grown to like the lady. 

You were just about to leave when she went inside but a firm grip on your wrist stopped you right away, making you look up at Jake in question. 

“You don’t have to bother being my friend, you’ll only be a hindrance in my way,” he says smoothly. 

Your expression turns sour, almost as if you were bored, “why? So you can keep your fake good boy persona up and going?” You said, mimicking his tone. 

Not expecting such a reply, he let out a surprised scoff, mixed with the slightest chuckle, “so what? It doesn’t concern you. Or are you offended that I’m not actually good, like you,” he whispered, leaning close, which made you realize how tall he actually was, “you know nothing about me, princess.”

The nickname rolled off his tongue seamlessly, sending a shiver down your spine while you kept a straight face, trying not to seem affected at all. 

“Neither do you know about me, Sim. So stop making assumptions and just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I’ll take your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes, saying it all in one go before turning around to leave. 

“You should be scared of me,” he chuckles behind you. 

“In your dreams,” you retorted, not sparing him another glance as your heart palpitated. 

You had never talked to anyone in such a manner before, it gave a sense of newfound confidence—which you needed.

Jake simply watched you walk back to your place, shaking his head once you disappeared from his eyesight and still, a humorous smile never left his face. 

You had updated your parents about your three days here and later called your friend to do the same, who was also busy with her own vacation bucket list, yet it was a refreshing talk given that you currently did not have much to do to entertain yourself. 

Which left you to grab your swimwear and go for a swim—utilizing the pool in your backyard. 

Gigi loved to sit by the pool and made sure that it was cleaned every now and then. She had gotten it cleaned right in the morning today, which also gives you an opportunity to use it. 

The sunset casted a warm glow on the calm waves of the pool, the slight breeze in the air making it serene as you immerse yourself in the water, it closing you right in, feeling like a warm hug. 

You started slowly with effortless strokes, enjoying the feeling of lukewarm water on your body. You stopped after a while, resting as you let your body float with your eyes closed. 

“Enjoying ourselves, are we now?” A voice broke your state of tranquillity, your eyes opening in a swift and the water sloshed with how fast you turned around. 

Of course, it was none other than Jake sim who sat on the pool lounge chair, arms behind his back as if he was sitting to enjoy the view. 

“The fuck are you doing here?” You breathed out in question. 

He looked at you, feigning disappointment as he leaned to look down at you, “oh, princess. Didn’t they teach you not to use such filthy words?”

His condescending tone only riled you up, “didn’t they teach you not to show up at someone’s place unannounced?” You mocked, getting out of the pool and trying to find your towel, only for you to realize he was sitting right on it. 

“I’m simply here to get cumin from your grandma, we ran out of it, you see,” he explained, not sounding sincere as he let his eyes wander all over your wet body, barely covered with your bikini. 

Your eyes, however, focused on the cigarette he took out from his pocket, making you gasp as you made your way towards him in an attempt to snatch it off his fingers.  

Nevertheless, Jake was quicker to get up, grabbing your hand which was extended and pinning it up against the wall, his body pressed up against yours, successfully making your body go still with shock. 

Yeah, you didn’t really adore your body’s fight or flight response. 

“Fuck—” your eyes widened, yet he wasn’t the one to give you even a second to complain. 

“Shh, princess. I don’t want a single bad word coming out of your mouth now, is that understood?” He asked, using his condenscending tone again. 

You could feel every ounce of confidence which you had yesterday leaving your body as you stared into his honey eyes, an unconscious slight nod betraying you.  

That satisfied him, although he didn’t bother changing his position, nor did he mind your wet body as he took out a lighter from his free hand, lighting up the flame, keeping it close to the cigarette which was pressed in between his lips. 

Your eyes were transfixed on his face, observing how swiftly he closed the lighter, stuffing it in his pocket right before he looked away, blowing smoke into the air, giving you the greatest opportunity to stare at his consummate side profile. 

He took the joint back in his fingers, returning his attention your way, “ever smoked before?” He asked, tone seemingly raspier. 

Not trusting your voice, you simply shook your head as to provide him an answer. 

He snickered, “of course you haven’t. It goes against your good girl rulebook, doesn’t it?” 

“Shut up!” Your sudden outburst of anger only humoured him, even more so when you tried to snatch the cigarette from him using your free hand to prove him wrong. 

He didn’t let it happen. 

Instead, you found yourself looking right into his eyes with his slender fingers holding your chin in place. His breath was cool with a lingering smell of mint—which was probably due to the flavour of cigarette. 

“Want it that bad now?” He raised his brows, “open your mouth,” he ordered, not giving you a second to comply, his thumb parting your lips as he desired. 

He took a drag, inhaling the smoke deeply as you gulped, you could hear your heartbeat, or maybe that was simply how aware you were of your surroundings—your proximity with Jake. 

Tilting his head, he leaned in again, mouth parted just the right amount. He let the smoke out and into your mouth in an agonizingly slow fashion, his lips on the verge of touching yours. 

Your subconscious took over once you inhaled the smoke and it hit your throat. The burning sensation caused you to push him off as you coughed out in distress. 

“Guess you can’t handle it, princess,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment. 

You glared his way, composing yourself enough to actually snatch the cigarette from his fingers and take a deep puff, ignoring the way it burned your throat. It was your turn to surprise him by pulling him closer, grabbing his collar. 

Your eyes were closed when you leaned in, blowing the smoke right into his mouth, causing him to take it all in, him never once closing his eyes. He stared at you with such intensity that you could feel it, despite your eyes being closed. 

Once you were done, you breathed deeply, throwing the cigarette on the ground, “don’t get ahead of yourself, Sim,” that’s all you said before walking back into your home, rushing up the stairs and into your room just to avoid running into him again. 

Only when you were in the safety of your room, you let out a frustrated scream right into your pillow. 

Three days in your vacation and this boy had already driven you insane to the point you had smoked right into his mouth. 

You took a warm shower before taking a nap—something you required to calm your heart before you saw him at dinner, again. 

In contrast to yesterday, when he didn’t provide you with an ounce of attention, his behaviour had done a solid one eighty as now, he provided you with his utmost attention, passing you subtle smirks during the entirety of the dinner. 

You were more than glad when auntie Sim distracted you by indulging in random conversations, and you can easily say you enjoyed the information she was providing you with at the given moment. 

“And, and!” Auntie Sim said full of excitement, “Our Jaeyunie was four and you were three when it happened. He was so curious about you playing on the beach building sandcastles alone, he wanted to talk to you and so he collected flowers from our garden and gave them to you,” she cooed. 

You looked at the boy, surprised with the information of him being a sweet baby. Now, he was the one who tried to stop his mother from spilling the stories any further, averting his gaze but you didn’t let it go. 

“Aw! That’s so cute Jaeyunie. Where are my flowers now?” You asked, voice annoyingly high to bother him. 

Your grandma laughed as auntie Sim only urged Jake to get some for you. He looked your way, annoyed and you only passed him a sweet smile. 

You couldn’t deny, being a menace did feel good at times and the dinner wasn’t so bad after all. 

Yet, the events of the evening didn’t let you sleep, causing you to walk on the balcony yet again and you couldn’t miss the figure clad in all black leaving your neighbour’s home yet again, at two after midnight nonetheless. 

It wasn’t something you should be indulging in yet you couldn’t help but wonder.

What exactly was Jake up to? 

In these ten days of vacation, you had done quite a few things which included learning a few recipes with your grandma, bickering with your neighbour, minus the proximity as you made your mission to stay away for the sake of your poor heart. Majorly, you had grown to adore the beautiful beach which was right behind your home. 

Seeing how you had nothing to do in the given moment, you found yourself sitting on the warmth of the sand yet again, close enough for your feet to touch the water which was cold, juxtaposing the temperature of your body.  

You didn’t know how long you sat there dazed, watching the never ending blue waves stretching as far as possible, till you gasped and got taken back into reality once a hand on your shoulder shook you in annoyance. 

It was none other than Jake, who stood there with his jaw clenched, a bouquet of flowers resting in his right hand, causing you to raise your brows at him. 

“Mom forced me to do this, okay?” He huffed, handing you over the multicoloured bundle of happiness. 

It didn’t matter that it was Jake who gave you the flowers, it still made you happy, a smile growing on your face as the scent infiltrated your senses. 

This certainly wasn’t the kind of reaction Jake was expecting from you. He was sure you’d throw a snarky remark or maybe simply not take the flowers from him, but even you couldn’t deny the beauty of nature. 

“Thank you,” you whispered under your breath, surprising him even more. 

It was one of the days you felt calm, not wanting to channelize your energy into something as useless as picking up a fight, however, Jake won’t leave without that happening. 

“That’s it? You just need flowers to shut up?” He tantalizes you to answer back. 

You only give him a sour look in return, wondering what he’s even doing on the beach wearing shoes, clad in leather jacket as if he was going for the cliché illegal races you see in movies. 

“You should go, Jaeyunie,” you nodded with a fake smile. 

Your phone started ringing just then, and Jake caught the display name right before you picked up the call. 

It was Lee Heeseung—the guy who was your study partner in school and also the guy who was your competition when it came to academics. 

The call wasn’t long, he had simply contacted you to inform you about the university he got into as you also filled him up with the university you got accepted into. 

You assumed that Jake would have gone back, which wasn’t the case as he stood behind you, eavesdropping shamelessly. His expression turned into one of realization when he saw you actually smiling and talking sweetly to whoever was the guy who had called you, a scoff leaving his mouth on its own accord. 

“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Will text you later, goodbye!” You smiled, concluding the conversation only to find Jake still standing at the same spot, making you look at him in question. 

“Didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” he said, seeming bored. 

A sigh left your mouth, Jake was great at making assumptions, “why do you care?” You asked. 

“I don’t,” he replied, not missing a beat, “I should go, I have work to do,” he said, walking back to his place. 

Your lips worked before you could process anything, “yeah? Like you do every night?” You asked. 

He stilled, turning back in a second and crouching down to your level, grabbing your nape, pulling you close to him, “don’t get involved in my matters, Y/n. I’m saying this for your own fucking good,” he seethed out, causing you to gulp, your heartbeat rising up due to the proximity again. 

“What are you up to, Jakey?” You asked teasingly, trying to diffuse the tension. 

“Nothing that concerns you, princess. I’m being serious, okay?” He held eye contact, repeating the last word again, and you nodded. 

“Okay,” you mumbled as you felt him caressing your nape gently before he got up, leaving you there wordlessly. 

You didn’t realize how hard you were clutching the flowers while watching his walking figure. The sudden mood switch made you curious, and despite him warning you, it was something you wanted to see for yourself. 

Was he in trouble? Was he caught up in illegal activities? Or was he simply out partying somewhere?

Another sigh left your lips. 

You shouldn’t get involved in his matters. 

You got yourself involved in his matters. 

Sneaking out of your home was easy and you made sure to grab your jacket as the night got chillier than usual. All this to follow Jake. 

It was easy since he didn’t use any cars, walking towards his desired destination. It almost felt comical how you tried to tiptoe for a total of fifteen minutes, hiding in random alleyways whenever you made even the slightest noise of stepping on a pebble. 

For a second you even regretted coming out and spending so much energy on this, till you saw Jake actually stop and get inside an alleyway, which you approached exactly two minutes after he went in. 

Peeking in, you noticed how wide the way actually was, people clad in black and hoodies which hid their faces were present all over, more than thirty people you’d estimate. 

You squint your eyes to get a better focus of what they were up to, only for them to widen in realization when you found them exchanging packets and smoking what looked like drugs. Jake was also engaged in a conversation with a guy, purchasing drugs from him, which caused you to gasp slowly. 

“Looking for something, kid?” A deep, hoarse voice spoke near your ear, causing you to flinch and move away, turning around to see a guy full of tattoos smiling down at you, which disgusted you. 

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, looking towards your right to see Jake looking your way, eyes full of shock and worry as he whispered your name under his breath, not believing that you’d actually follow him there despite him saying a firm no to you. 

Maybe he was right, maybe you shouldn’t have come here. 

“Uhm, I—I lost my way back home. I’ll get going now, I didn’t see anything I promise! You guys please continue,” you said, trying to sprint but the guy was quick to hold your jacket, making you stop as Jake rushed your way, leaving whatever he was up to. 

Before anyone could take up any action, the sound of police sirens alerted everyone in the vicinity, which was more than enough for all the guys to scramble as you stood there with panic, trying to move your body seeing how the guys were climbing up the wall full of graffiti on the other side as it was the only way to their escapade. 

“Run,” Jake breathed out, grabbing your smaller hand in his without any notice and running towards the same way, his jaw was clenched. 

You followed wordlessly, mouth open with how deeply you were breathing, chest heaving up and down while you ran and reached the wall. 

The sirens got closer as if someone had tipped the cops to search this particular area and you were worried if you both would get caught up in this mess. 

“Jump,” he commanded and you stared at the wall, shaking your head. 

“I—I can’t,” you stuttered, watching how the others claimed it 

He pulled you closer, picking you up with ease as to provide you with some kind of elevation, which definitely helped when you grabbed on to the top brick, pushing your body up and jumping to the other side, stumbling slighting as you fell down. 

Jake was swift, landing by your side before he grabbed your hand again, pulling you up with him to run again. Your legs hurt yet you didn’t stop till he pulled you by his side, getting a bobby pin out of his pocket to unlock the door, which he opened in a go and pulled you inside, locking the door. 

Silence. 

Your breathing is all you could hear, but Jake’s eyes were louder than anything else, which scared you even further. 

“I specifically told you to stay out of it, what’s so hard to understand here?” He more or less shouted, pushing you against the wall. 

You gulped, not looking at his face but he wasn’t having it, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look his way. 

“What if they did something to you? What if the police caught you? What if something had happened to you?” His voice got smaller after each sentence, more breathy and desperate, making your heart break when he genuinely made it seem like he cared about you. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, which probably wasn’t helpful at the given second, “I thought that you were in trouble and,” you whispered, not having more to say. 

He sighed, resting his forehead on yours as his eyes closed to get some rest. You couldn’t move, your whole body felt more alive than ever, maybe it was the adrenaline rush, or simply Jake being so close to you. 

He stepped back after a few seconds, “go change,” he said, and that’s when you looked around to find yourself in a boutique full of clothes. 

“W—why?” You asked. 

“Because the cop saw us, he knows what we’re wearing,” he answered, trying to find clothes his size. 

Maybe he saw you when you were climbing up, meaning that you barely escaped him. 

“But surveillance cameras? Technically, won’t this be considered stealing?” You bit your lip. 

“There are none,” he replied, “and we have more pressing matters than to sit and worry about stealing.”

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking your way, trying to find some outfit, or rather, you were stealing it given the circumstances. 

“So, why were you out there?” 

“I should be asking you that, Y/n,” he said when you went into the changing room. 

“You had drugs with you!” Your voice boomed from the stall and he simply took off his shirt in the store. 

“So what?” He uttered, pissed. 

“Did you smoke drugs that day too? Did you give me drugs?” You screeched while asking and he opened the curtains, seeing you soothing the top down. 

“I don’t fucking do drugs,” he groaned, “I buy it and sell it to the guys next town at a higher price,” he explained. 

The dim light from the changing stall only enhanced Jake’s shirtless body, his abs full on display alongside his torso, which was well built. Your eyes settled on the tattoo he had on his left side of the rib. 

Taking a step further, your fingers gently traced the intricate design, making him shiver without you knowing, his fingers clasping around your wrist to keep it away again. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He whispered. 

“I—” you started speaking, looking at him with wide eyes which shone of innocence and worry, lips jutted in the slightest pout and hair slightly messy. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes out, not letting you complete your sentence, coming closer to your face, “why do you have to do everything I tell you not to do?” He asked, however his tone wasn’t filled with anger. 

It was something you quite couldn’t pinpoint yourself. 

He sighed, “let’s get you home.”

“Are we gonna walk back? Isn’t it too dangerous?” You asked as he turned around to put on a shirt averting your eyes from his back which flexed with his movements, your body felt warm and throat parched, especially when he turned around with a smirk. 

“We’re driving back home.”

You soon found yourself on a lookout at the garage entrance of what Jake called an illegal garage which was used for repairing old racing cars. The place wasn’t authorized, which is why stealing from here would work perfectly. 

“How do you even know this?” You asked, exasperated as your nerves got the best of you. 

It certainly didn’t help that the place was dark, and Jake wasn’t replying as he was hot wiring the car without a number plate 

You had no idea where he learned that from. 

“You need to learn things if you want to survive in this world, darling,” he said, focusing on his work, not once thinking how you’d shiver with his use of nicknames. 

He’s glad it’s not some new high tech car, which he won’t be able to hot wire as they contain ignition immobilizers, which makes it impossible for it to happen—you nodded as he explained all of this, your focus elsewhere. 

“Let’s go,” he said after a few minutes, seemingly done with his work. 

You rushed to get into the car, a scream leaving your mouth as he started driving almost instantly, his fingers gripping the steering wheels hard enough for his veins to pop out as you struggled to put on the seatbelt. 

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you let out in half a scream. 

“Why? Not having fun now, princess?” He chuckled as he changed the gear, resting his hand on your thighs right after which caused you to squirm around in your seat. 

Your body was extra attentive when he was around, and you weren’t sure how to control your heart anymore, so you closed your eyes. 

“What’s so fun about this?” You asked, clutching the seatbelt. 

“You,” he confessed, messing up with your brain even further. 

“I hate you,” you mumbled, looking elsewhere. 

You didn’t trust his driving despite it seeming effortless, he was over speeding after all. 

“Now, we both know that’s not true, princess,” he stated and you huffed, knowing that he was right ignoring the fact that he was insufferable. 

His pace ensured you to reach home in record time, your legs felt wobbly the second you stepped on the road. 

“Stay here, I’ll be back in a second,” he rushed, leaving you standing alone as he parked the car outside a random garage two minutes away from your place. 

It was hard to believe how you got chased by police, stole clothes and a fully functional car all in one night. 

You saw him jogging back to you after a few minutes, standing right in front of you, “I think I should get back now,” you started to stay, however he stopped you. 

“You can’t do that, your gate’s got a surveillance camera so we need to go from the back side,” he stated, his hand automatically reaching for yours as you started to make way towards the back side, on the sand. 

All of a sudden, you felt smaller, heat creeping up your neck due to the body contact and you let him guide you wordlessly before you realized something. 

“Wait, how will you go back? Your place doesn’t have a back door,” you asked and he shrugged. 

“I’ll just jump to the other side of the garden wall, princess. You don’t need to worry about me,” he teased and you pushed him away, the warmth of his hand leaving yours. 

Tiptoeing into your home, you shut the back door as silently as possible before you rushed up the stairs and almost into your room, only to find Jake coming up with you. 

“What are you doing?” You whisper asked, eyes wide. 

“I’m curious about your room,” he answered with that usual smirk of his and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face. 

“You—” you tried to say, but stopped the second you heard another voice. 

“Oh, Peanut? You’re awake?” Your grandma’s voice called out from the balcony, and your mouth hung open as you shoved Jake into your room in an effort to hide him. 

“Y—yes, Gigi! I woke up to get some water,” you lied, wincing slightly as she acknowledged it and wished you a good night in her soft tone. 

You rushed in and locked the door, only to find Jake getting cozy in your bed. 

It was one of those days when your grandma missed your grandpa, and she spent hours on the balcony, looking at the glistening stars to find solace. You felt sad but the more pressing matter here was—how to get Jake out of your room? 

He can’t leave from the back door, he can’t go out from the front door as Gigi would see him, your room windows weren’t the opening type which left you with no option but for him to spend the night right here, with you. 

“Now what?” You asked, hand on your forehead while you paced around the room. 

“What? We sleep together, of course.” He had a cheeky smile on his face. 

“Are you crazy?” You almost screamed, but you didn’t wanna alert your grandma, which made you repeat it in a hushed tone.

“Why? Too scared to sleep with me? You’re the reason we’re in this situation, princess,” he smirked. 

You sighed. He was right about that part but you weren’t willing to sleep with him, so you proceeded to ignore him as you went into the bathroom to change into your comfortable clothes for the night. 

Jake simply patted the bed when you came out, silently asking you to sit next to him, and suddenly you realized that you’re locked up in a room with him, which didn’t help your nerves as you sat down with him. 

Somehow everything was rebellious against your rules when it concerned Sim Jaeyun. 

“Can’t you sleep on the floor?” You almost whined. 

He cocked his brow, “is that what I get after helping you escape?”

“That’s not it—”

“So? Is it the boyfriend?”

“I don’t have any—”

“The guy you were talking to in the morning.”

“He’s a friend—”

“Then there’s no problem, right?” he rasped. 

You didn’t realize your lip was bitten till his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, tugging on it gently to free it, caressing it while looking into your eyes. 

“Right?” He repeated. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding ever so slightly. 

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, flustering you as you tried to look away, which wasn’t something Jake allowed, his fingers gripping your chin now, “god, you look so fucking innocent.”

“I’m not!” You argued. 

“Yeah? Have you been kissed before, princess?” He asks, amused. 

His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, to the point you almost whimpered out loud, but you were glad you didn’t, “no. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t fucked anyone before.” You confessed, eyes on his plump lips. 

“Oh? Who’s the loser who fucked you without even kissing your prettiest lips?” He asked, frustrated that someone even dared to touch you, even though his words said otherwise. 

You gulped, “we were drunk,” you whispered, remembering your graduation party and how the guy had failed to please you. 

“Did he make you feel good?” Jake asked, expression serious. 

“What?” You were surprised by his question. 

He wasted no time in pulling you to his lap, your gasp only made him smirk wider, his hands resting on your waist, squeezing it lightly. 

“Did he satisfy you, princess?” His voice was an octave deeper, giving you goosebumps. 

“H—he didn’t,” you stutter, which pissed him further, his jaw tensed. 

“So you’re telling me that some asshole was deep inside you and didn’t even bother making you feel good?” He scoffed. 

“Jake—”

“Y’know what I would have done instead?” He asked, caressing your cheek, his thumb resting on your lips right after, “I’d kiss your lips till you get obsessed with mine.” his hooded eyes lured you in. 

His fingers travelled down to your neck, rubbing circles just above your clavicle, “I’d kiss you till my lips memorize every inch of your body, till your mind goes blank,” he whispers, biting your earlobe. 

You breathe in deeply, a whimper leaving your mouth, Jake’s name rolling off your tongue in a whisper right after, making him groan in response. 

“I’d ruin you, princess,” he breathes, eyes meeting yours. 

“Please.” You struggled to breathe, his pointy nose brushing against yours, lips threatening to kiss. 

“Say it,” he urged you, pulling your body impossibly closer on his lap. 

There was no denying that Jake made you lose every sense of rationality and morals in you, it almost felt as if you were intoxicated in his presence, your heart raced, thumping faster than ever, urging you to say yes. 

“Please ruin me, Jake,” you whispered, giving in and looking at him with innocent eyes. 

“That’s a good girl.” 

He was swift to push you down on the mattress, getting on top of you with hungry eyes to the point you almost felt as if you were a prey, and you liked it. 

His cold chain brushed against your clavicle, making you shiver as he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a fervent kiss, a groan leaving his mouth as he finally had you so close to him. 

Your fingers held on to his shoulders desperately, he was difficult to resist, and who were you to resist such pleasure? His plush lips moulding against yours, his hand squeezing your waist as you allowed yourself to get immersed into him. 

You could feel the warmth spreading in your abdomen like wildfire, a gasp giving him the perfect opportunity to taste you, sliding his tongue down your mouth to deepen the kiss, the taste of chocolate lingering in his mouth and you let yourself moan into his lips. 

You tugged on his hair, realizing how correct he was about you being obsessed with his lips as you found yourself chasing after it when he broke the kiss, making him chuckle at your desperation. 

“So fucking pretty,” he muttered, staring at your slightly swollen lips, which glistened with the mixture of your spit. 

He wasn’t the one to waste time, his tongue licking your neck, placing kisses all over it, causing you to squirm and pant till he found the spot which had you rolling your eyes with sheer pleasure. 

Placing a hand over your mouth to silence your moans, he felt a feeling of possessiveness take over him. You looked so fucked out and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he sees someone else with you. 

The mere thought had him biting and sucking on your skin in an attempt to mark the very spot which had you shivering and your toes curling. He slipped his other hand inside your flimsy tee, and in your bra, feeling your hardened nipples which he flicked between his fingers. 

Your body felt more awake than ever, each touch of his getting a reaction out of you, “so responsive, have you been waiting for this, princess?” 

You could only nod in desperation, trying your best to keep your moans at bay, not wanting to alert your grandma. He kissed your cheek before he got up to get rid of his own clothes, giving you a few seconds to stare at his faint abs, highlighted by the dim lights along with his tattoo, which you so desperately wanted to kiss. 

The image of you looking his way with such big eyes, chest heaving up and down only ignited the carnal feeling of him wanting to be deep inside you. 

It all felt new to you, being aware and not drunk this time, however it wasn’t just that—Jake made you feel this way, your thighs closing when you felt a fluttering sensation down your abdomen. 

“Undress,” he ordered. 

“What—”

“Undress for me, darling,” his words were smoother than the melted butter, making you work upon it instantly. 

His eyes were fixated on your figure the entire time you took to get your clothing off, feeling shy under his gaze, not to mention the outline of his cock in his boxers intrigued you even further. 

“Fuck, you’re all mine,” he said under his breath. 

His plush lips were soon on your tits, his other hand fondling and caressing your nipple while he worked his tongue, swirling it ever so perfectly before giving it a soft bite, making you arch your back as you bit on your discarded clothes, tears forming in your eyes with these euphoric sensations. 

He’s giving you all you could ask for and you? You’re a mess with your lipstick smudged and ragged breathing. Just when you thought that Jake couldn’t get you anymore wilder, he stuffed his hand down your wet panties, which brushed against your extremely sensitive clit. Even biting your clothes couldn’t stop a moan coming out of your mouth. 

“You like it, baby? That’s my good girl. So pretty and wet all for daddy, yeah? Daddy’s gonna taste you now, princess,” his spoke, his accent deep. 

“Daddy?” you asked, whimpering right after when his lips touched your bare pussy, pressing a kiss on your clit. 

There was something in the way he addressed himself so confidently which made you want to submit yourself to him fully, only pushing yourself deeper into sub space as he worshipped every inch of your body. 

“That’s right, baby,” he spoke against your, sending waves of pleasure through your body as his strong hands held your thighs open. 

Obscene noises of him licking and sucking resonated the room as you bucked up your hips unconsciously, desperate for friction, making his cock twitch while he licked languid strokes up and down your cunt, his hot breath fanning your folds, wishing to hear you moan despite the circumstances. 

“Shh, princess. We don’t want your grandma to know now, do we?” He smirked. 

Your hand slithers into Jake’s hair, tugging on it as you convulse in pleasure, letting him continue his ministrations on your leaking pussy, his lips soft unlike his actions, which were rushed and aimed at your pleasure. 

Your eyes roll back, arousal reaching its peak at the unadulterated pleasure as you repeated his name when he moved down to shove his tongue into your cunt, lapping at your juices when you reach your orgasm. 

Yet he doesn’t stop, inserting his slender finger in your tight hole, pumping it in and out gently at first while you whine and he gets up, wetness coating his lips. He lets you taste yourself by kissing you yet again, his fingers entertaining your cunt. 

Your breaths are heavier, louder and you can’t wait to have his cock shoved into you. You weren’t the one to have lewd thoughts in general yet here you were, moaning into Jake’s mouth, clenching around his two fingers which thrusted into you at a newfound speed. 

“Yes, daddy! Yes, oh god,” you mumbled to yourself, letting the lust consume you. 

His fingers curled inside you before he decided that you were ready for his cock. 

“Let’s see how desperate you are, beg for daddy’s cock,  princess,” he demanded. 

Now that his cock was in view, you stared at it dumbfounded. It was veiny and stood hard and leaking, the tip was red and ready to fuck you dumb, it pushed you over the edge. 

“Please, daddy? I’ll be a good girl for y—you please fuck me?” A tear left your eye, tainting your image even further which aroused Jake as a sadistic smile overtook his face. 

You continued to beg him, and he gave you no warning as he lined his tip on your entrance, coating it with your juices, almost pushing it all in but instead, he gave you just the tip, which made you beg out of frustration. 

“Tell me about your darkest fantasies,” Jake teased, seeing you pout and whine, “do it baby, only then you’ll get this cock into you.”

You were going crazy, “I—I want to be fucked awake,” you confessed, hiding your face. 

“Is that so? How cute,” he commented, pulling your body flush. 

Within a second, he thrusted into you sharply, your wet juices acting as the perfect lube to suck his cock right in as he bottomed out fully, cussing at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. 

You could feel the imprint of his dick on your lower abdomen, and he pressed on it with a proud smirk, only to make you whimper lowly, your voice quivering with deep he was in you, “big—so big.”

You laid beneath Jake in such a way that the sight was captivating for him, your vulnerability paired with his ignited primal hunger. 

He firmly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling out slightly before he thrusted into you again as you were clinging onto him. 

He had never found anyone like you before, it was as if you were the only one for him, the one who reacts to his touch in such ways, the one who drives him insane to the point he has to rile you up just to get you to talk to him. 

His slow thrusts soon turned into relentless, pleasure inducing thrusts, and you found yourself bucking your hips up to meet him, helping him reach deeper spots in you, his tip hitting your g-spot. 

Choked moans escaped your lips, reaching the point of complete incoherence as you got drunk in the intensity of Jake’s presence, your senses overwhelmed as he fucked you without any interruptions. 

“Daddy—please!”

Sensing that you were close, he thrusted harder, twitching inside your pussy, his lips capturing yours as you both cried out, reaching your climax in harmony, breathing in deeply before he filled you up with his warm cum, which mixed with your own juices. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, causing him to laugh and pull you in a sweet kiss. 

You could see the clear switch in his demeanour when he cleaned you up, asking gentle questions about how you felt or if he went overboard. 

He was perfect. 

Something had changed in the air, and you both were aware of it, but rather than verbalising it, you slept in each other’s arms, Jake staying up a few minutes just to see your peaceful face. 

“Good night, princess.”

Jake woke up early despite not getting enough sleep, still not believing that he fucked you—the prettiest girl he swore he’d ever laid eyes on. 

And he was sure to make your desires come true. 

You wore nothing but his shirt to sleep, which made your pussy accessible to him, his fingers playing with your folds ever so gently as he didn’t wish to wake you up, not this soon at least. 

He continued to do so for a remarkably long time, smiling each time he saw you stir in your sleep, his lips leaving kisses on your neck and shoulder blades till you were fully wet for him. 

Jake was shocked when you revealed that you were into somnophilia, but who was he to deny his girl some pleasure?

His other hand was busy taking care of his raging boner, seeing you dressed in his shirt, your scent mixed with his only drove him crazy. 

His grip on your thighs was firm when he straddled you, pumping his cock a few times before he pushed it in you with a few thrusts, the stretch being enough to wake you up with a whimper, your state disoriented but the second you realized that Jake was making your wish actually come true, you moaned. 

His dick throbbed inside you and you were still not over last night’s adventure as curse words filled the air, along with the mist of your unholy activities and fervent longing as he thrusted with a groan, kissing and nibbling on the skin of your neck. 

You were sure you had bruises forming on your clavicle by now, which also extended down your breasts and inner thighs, Jake being particular about having you marked through and through. 

You could only sigh and plead for more, beg for more, the word daddy coming out of your mouth effortlessly, which was effective to the point it made Jake fuel with desire as he provided you with the most overwhelming, ecstasy filled orgasm, him coming all over your pussy, pulling out this time. 

“I like you,” he revealed all of a sudden, his smile the epitome of boyishness which made you chuckle with your newfound happiness. 

That’s one good way to wake up in the morning. 

“Guess what, Sim. I like you too,” you confessed, growing shy by the last word and he pulled you in a sweet hug, swinging your body along his, your laughter filling up the room. 

You gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.  

You had forgotten to help him escape without your grandma knowing. 

The escape was successful, and so were your holidays which were nearing. Your sadness was apparent on your face, having no desire to go back leaving your grandma and aunt Sim. 

More importantly, Jake. 

It has become a routine for him to slip into your room ever so professionally to sleep with you—some nights you did sleep, other nights he gave you every reason to be awake. 

Which also served as a solid reason for Jake to stop indulging in the so called drug trade, one instance of almost being caught was enough for you both, not that you were involved in the first place. 

He opened up to you, actually acting like a goof at times, juxtaposing his usual bad boy demeanour. He provided you with the best of both worlds. 

Your feelings for the guy you used to find annoying were increasing at record speed per day, and now that it was finally one day before you’d leave, you couldn’t help but be bothered by Jake’s absence. 

He’s always around, which made you wonder where and what he was up to, especially when you wanted nothing more than to spend your time in his arms, lip quivering at the thought that he might not wish to see you anymore.

However, that wasn’t the case when he showed up in the doorway, huffing and hair messy as if he was running. 

“Jaeyun,” you whispered, letting him pull you in the comfort of his warm arms. 

“I’m coming,” he breathed, making you look at him with wide eyes. 

“What?” You blinked, almost stuttering. 

“I’m coming to Seoul with you, princess. I got into the same university,” he chuckled as you snatched the envelope from him, jumping with excitement as tears filled your eyes, hugging him even tighter. 

You felt like your heart was going to explode with the excitement, which Jake found heartwarming. He had planned this the second he saw you and got to know you. It was a given that he wanted to be with you. 

“What about your mom?” You asked softly, realizing that she’d be alone. 

“She’s gonna stay with Gigi. Our ladies are strong women, right?” He asked, caressing your lip, which you had noticed was his habit. 

“W—when did you even apply—this is so amazing,” you went on rambling, which was something he adored, but kissing your lips to shut you up was his favourite thing, especially when he got to see your shy smile right after. 

“So, we’re gonna be together?” You questioned, shyness taking over. 

“You’re wrong if you think you’ll ever get rid of me now, princess,” he smirked, teasing you again. 

This side of him made you faux scoff, “but what if I want to get rid of you?” You challenged, knowing well you weren’t capable of that. 

He took a step closer to you, his broad smile illuminating the room, his hand resting on your waist pulling you closer, “I’d like to see you try and escape me,” he retorted. 

“You want me that much, huh?” Your smile was coy. 

He brushed your nose tip with his, making you chuckle with joy. 

“I’ll always want my princess.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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[bradshawsbaby]

Love in the Air

Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader

Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?

Word Count: 12.5k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.

If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.

Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.

“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”

“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.

“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”

Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.

Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.

You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.

You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.

“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”

“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.

“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.

“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.

“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”

And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.

It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.

Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.

“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.

“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”

Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.

“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”

Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”

“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.

“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.

“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”

“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.

All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.

“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.

The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.

“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.

“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”

“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.

You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.

“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.

You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.

As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.

You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.

Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.

By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.

You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.

When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.

Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.

Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.

Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.

At the gate yet???

Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.

Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.

Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.

😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!

Katie, it’s not even 9am…

So? A mimosa then!

You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.

When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.

Any cuties to share that mimosa with???

You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.

Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.

He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.

Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?

Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.

You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.

Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.

‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️

At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.

Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!

Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.

Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!

Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.

“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.

It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.

Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.

Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.

You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.

The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!

Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.

At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.

As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.

Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.

“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.

“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”

Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?

“I—I—”

“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.

Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.

With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.

“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”

You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”

The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”

Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?

“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”

He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”

“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”

“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”

“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”

“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”

“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.

Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.

Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.

Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.

Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.

“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.

Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.

“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”

“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.

Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.

Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.

On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?

It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.

Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!

You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.

Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.

OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!

How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?

It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!

Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?

Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.

Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.

Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.

It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.

As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.

Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!

I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!

You better answer me!!!

Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.

Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.

Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.

What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥️

You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.

You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.

You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.

Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.

Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.

Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.

You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?

Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.

Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.

A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.

What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.

You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.

Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it. 

You’d written your note in black ink.

Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.

Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.

What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.

At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.

Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.

Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.

Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.

Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.

You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.

It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.

Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!

You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.

Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.

The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.

Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.

Bradley only took seconds to reply.

Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.

Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.

Hey! I thought we were friends!

We’ll see 😉

You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.

As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.

I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.

Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.

Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.

Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.

Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.

You’re on.

When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.

You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.

You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.

“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.

When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.

“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.

“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.

Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.

Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.

“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.

The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.

You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.

“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”

Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”

Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.

“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.

Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”

He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.

“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.

“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”

You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”

He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”

“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.

Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”

You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”

“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.

“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.

“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.

He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.

The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.

“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”

It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”

“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”

You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.

“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.

Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.

“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.

“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”

“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”

“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”

“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.

“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.

“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.

“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.

“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”

Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”

“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”

She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.

Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.

“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.

“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.

“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”

Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.

As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.

“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”

Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.

Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.

“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”

“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.

Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”

“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.

At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”

Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?

“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”

Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?

Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.

“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.

“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”

Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”

“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.

“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.

Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.

“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.

“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.

“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”

“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.

“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.

Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.

The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”

“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”

Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.

“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”

Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?

“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.

Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.

Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”

Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.

“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.

“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”

Someone like you?

The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.

You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.

You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.

“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.

You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.

“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”

You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”

“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.

To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.

“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”

“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.

For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.

“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.

“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”

“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.

By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.

You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?

All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.

“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”

“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.

“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.

“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”

“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.

Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.

“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.

“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”

“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.

Too late, you realized your mistake.

“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”

“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”

“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.

“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.

A moment later, she texted you back.

YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!

Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.

“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.

“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.

“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.

“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.

“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.

Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.

Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.

“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.

“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.

“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.

“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.

“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.

“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.

You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.

“Promise.”

[love4myg]

bitter coffees | myg

summary. the last person you expect at your door at 4 am is yoongi. but his presence is like a blanket of comfort that helps soothe your aching heart.

────

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: angst, fluff if you squint

word count: 1.7k

content: yoongi shows up at reader's door when they're stressed about exams / reader has a small breakdown that yoongi helps them through / they end up falling asleep together

warnings: none

a/n: a little something i wrote at like midnight to cope with exams while listening to 'sweet' by cigarettes after sex 😪. this will be apart of a drabble series im working on, but this is NOT the first drabble in terms of the chronological order of the story

main masterlist

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You bring the mug to your lips, taking a sip of the dark coffee.

You have never liked black coffee, always opting for sweeter drinks like caramel and chai lattes. But nowadays, the bitter liquid is the only thing that keeps you awake and somewhat energized.

Still, every sip is an effort and you can't help but grimace at the aftertaste.

You put the mug back onto the wooden floor, begging yourself to remember not to spill it. You had chosen to move all of your books and notes to the floor after getting tired of your cramped desk, and the last thing you needed was for the drink to ruin your only hope of getting a passing grade on your exam.

You should have started studying earlier. Usually, you are on top of all assignments and tests, wanting to get them over with. But lately, the presence of a certain someone has started messing with your schedule.

You never expected to get this close to your neighbour who lived 3 doors down, especially given your first encounter which was far from pleasant.

You always thought Yoongi was a little strange, but these past few months had been proving otherwise.

You don't regret the time you spent with him. You cherish the bottles of wine you shared and the nights you spent binging movies while you tried to ignore the fact that his knee was slightly pressed against yours.

You just wish you had spent a bit more time studying and less time admiring the way his eyes crinkled into crescent moons when he laughed.

You rub your temples, gently trying to ease the migraine that has started brewing. Your limbs ache terribly and you have never craved the warmth of your blankets more.

Tears brim your eyes, which worsen the pain in your head as you furrow your eyebrows to try to blink them away, which in turn makes you want to cry even more.

Giving up on reading over your notes for the third time, you lean your head against the side of your bed, still trying to blink away your tears even as your bottom lip quivers and the lump in your throat gets bigger.

Buzz.

Your half-lidded eyes glance at your phone on the floor which has now lit up with a single notification.

Yoongiee: open the door if your not asleep alr

A beat of silence passes as you process the text. Have you officially lost it and started to hallucinate Yoongi showing up at your dorm?

Your phone buzzes again and you notice the time. 4:37 am.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you use all of your remaining strength to push yourself up onto your feet. You don't bother to try to keep your eyes fully open, letting them obscure half of your vision as your slippers pad through the dimly lit house.

The door creaks loudly and you visibly cringe, grateful that both of your roommates weren't home to complain about being woken up.

In front of you, Yoongi greets you with a small wave and a smile on his face which immediately turns into an expression of concern as he takes you in.

"Are you okay?"

You want the world to swallow you up. Yoongi seeing you in such a state is something you never thought would happen. But here he was, a phone in one hand and a bag on his shoulder.

"What are you doing here? It's late."

Your words are dry on your tongue and your throat hurts to speak. Your voice is stiffer than usual, but you can't help it.

"I couldn't sleep and figured you couldn't either since you were active like twenty minutes ago. I can leave if you want, I don't- I really don't mind."

He brings his hands up, palms facing you in a form of reassurance. You shake your head.

"I- No, it's fine. I don't mind."

And again, you let yourself be distracted by his presence. You don't know why, but your heart refuses to say 'no' to him even though your brain is screaming at you to get a grip.

You open the door wider and let him in. His eyes scan the room as he adjusts to the darkness.

You walk to your bedroom and switch on the main light instead of relying on your small lamp as he slips out of his sneakers

You aren't exactly being welcoming to him, but again you don't have it in you to care as much as you usually would.

You settle back onto the floor and take another swig of your coffee. Yoongi enters the room a few seconds later, quirking an eyebrow at your position on the floor.

"Don't ask," you mumble with a smile and he chuckles as he places his bag at the foot of your bed.

You expect him to crawl into your bed, but instead, he settles down beside you. He takes out a leather notebook and places it on his lap as he twirls a pencil between his fingers.

Your attention returns to the endless amounts of notes in front of you, and you let out a defeated sigh.

Normally, you would be screaming at the lack of words exchanged between you both. But the silence is comforting, and the sound of his pencil against the paper is oddly satisfying to listen to.

You don't notice how your head falls onto his shoulder and you feel him freeze for a second before returning to whatever he had been doing.

You want to let your eyes flutter shut, but anxiety bubbles in your chest with every moment that passes that you don't spend studying, and it makes the lump in your throat return.

"You sure you're okay?"

You let out a shaky breath that you hadn't even realized you were holding, and the tears you had desperately tried to push back threatened to fall.

"Yeah."

You cringe at how your voice cracks, unable to keep your emotions at bay any longer. Salty tears fall down your cheeks, and you feel Yoongi's head turn in an attempt to look at you and you bring up your hands to cover your face.

Yoongi brings his body to face your side. One of his hands gently touches yours while his other works at wiping away the tears spilling down your cheeks. For a second, he pulls away his hand to move away the array of things surrounding you before settling back against yours.

"Hey- what's wrong? Did something happen?"

You shake your head weakly, your fingers playing at the hem of your graphic tee as you chew on your cheek.

"I- I have this stupid fucking exam tomorrow and I don't- I don't know shit and no matter how long I spend studying I just can't- it won't go into my head and I only started studying today because I was being fucking dumb."

You hate how your words are interrupted by broken hiccups and how pathetic your voice is. But Yoongi listens with caring eyes and it eases some of the embarrassment.

"You're not stupid or dumb, ___. You can't always be perfect, and I know this exam matters, but it is not worth more than you."

Yoongi squeezes your hand and gently begins to move his thumb across your skin.

"If you need a break, take one, even if it means you don't get to spend that time studying. I know you'll be fine. You'll do great even if you don't study at all."

Your eyes meet his and you don't know what possesses you, but you find yourself wrapping your hands around Yoongi's neck. He freezes and you faintly hear his breath hitch. But before you can move back he adjusts his legs and pulls you in closer.

You end up settling between his legs and you let out a small sob, which you blame him for.

Why was he so fucking sweet? No one has said anything like that to you before, and it helps ease some of the weight on your shoulders even though it brings more tears to your eyes.

His hands are warm and secure around you. Your face lies against the soft, grey fabric of his hoodie and you make a mental note to wash for him in case your wet mascara stains it.

"I'm just so fucking tired, Yoongi."

You don't know it, but Yoongi's heart breaks at your voice. His hands rub against your back as he tries his best to soothe you.

"Let's get you to bed then, OK?"

You nod against his shoulder weakly and he picks up your body. Your legs wrap around his hips and you feel like a koala clinging onto a tree.

He settles your body down onto your bed and you let out a broken sigh, melting into the softness of your mattress. You almost let out another sob from how much you've missed this.

You hear him shuffle around, probably packing up his things.

"Are you leaving?" you ask, forcing your eyes to open.

Yoongi has turned off the light, but you can still make out his figure with the help of the moonlight that slips into your room through a small crack in your curtains.

He looks pretty. He had dyed his hair since the first time you met him, and the now blond locks fell in small waves across his forehead. From this angle, the silver hues illuminating him make him look ethereal.

"Yeah," he says with a small nod.

"Oh."

His movements still, sensing the disappointment laced in your voice.

"Do you want me to stay?"

A beat of silence passes as you weigh your options. You feel selfish for wanting him to stay, but his hugs are the most comfortable thing ever and you already miss the feeling of his arms around you.

"Yes, please."

You miss the smile that forms on Yoongi's face, and you hear him put his bag onto the floor again.

"Lie with me. You're really warm and comfy," you say.

He chuckles but obliges, slipping beside you under the duvet. You feel him hesitate for a moment before wrapping his arms around you, and you melt into his embrace again.

In a few minutes, you drift off into a much-needed slumber, leaving Yoongi staring up at the ceiling. The only sounds in the room are your soft breathing and the ticking of your clock.

Yoongi silently hopes that this isn't the last time you fall asleep in his arms.

[angelwonie]

NERVOUSLY IN LOVE || mark lee

PAIRING: mark x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, established relationship

SUMMARY: despite his very obvious sexual attraction towards you, your boyfriend keeps holding himself back from sleeping with you. OR the three times you want to fuck mark lee and the one time you do.

WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), praise, big dick mark, a little dumbification] mark is down bad

happy birthday @mrkis i hope you like this small gift <3 i love you so much bestie

You and Mark Lee are in love with each other.

That much is obvious to everyone around you. Ever since you started dating a few months back, you’ve been all over one another — holding hands, hugging and, on some occasions, even making out behind the university building in broad daylight. 

This suits you just fine. You love seeing Mark’s cheeks tint pink when your hand wanders under his shirt, or when you’re all alone in his apartment and he has to bite his lip to not let out a moan as you reposition yourself in his lap. 

Just like you’re doing right now. 

“Y/N…” Mark’s voice is slightly strained as he grips your waist tighter, head falling back onto the couch. You’ve been sitting in his lap, with your thighs on either side of him, for at least half an hour now — first just hugging him, then kissing his jaw as he played with your hair, and now moving onto something more fun. Namely wriggling around in his lap under the disguise of having to readjust yourself. 

“Mmm?” you hum absentmindedly, letting your lips fan over his neck. He shivers and you smile to yourself at the goosebumps forming on his skin. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but you kiss him instead, swallowing up the moan he lets out when you not-so-subtly roll your hips against his. You and him have gone this far multiple times – made out and rubbed against each other until your panties are ruined and his cock is painfully hard – but you’ve never done anything past that. But with the way he’s growing hard from underneath you, you think that maybe today is the day. 

You pull away from the kiss to bury your face in his neck and palm him through his jeans. He groans at that, hips bucking up involuntarily. The sound causes more wetness to pool between your legs and you rub against him – at least until you hear him say your name again, this time more seriously. You look up at his face, his lip pulled between his teeth and the slight panic in his eyes. 

“Donghyuck and Renjun…” he finally says, tapping his fingers against your thigh. “They’re coming home soon.”

You tilt your head to the side, brows furrowing. “I know.” 

“No, like, seriously, they’ll be here soon.” 

Mark’s shaky voice catches you off guard, because he seems genuinely stressed. His cheeks are flushed, and he’s gripping your thighs like his life depends on it. A big contrast to the way his hard cock is poking your thigh. 

“You said they’re coming eight,” you pout down on him, fiddling with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. “It’s only seven.” 

“Yeah, but like, sometimes they come earlier and I don’t want them to see us like this, ’cause, you know–”

“Alright,” You raise an eyebrow at the way he swallows hard, eyes looking everywhere but at you, but listen to him nevertheless. “Okay.”

He sighs in what sounds like relief as you climb off his lap and plop onto the couch by his side. It’s weird, how he’s acting, you think, but if he’s really just scared of being caught then you suppose it won’t kill you to wait a little longer to have him. You’ve already waited four months, after all. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” He asks, a spark of guilt in his eyes. You nod, cuddling into his side with a soft smile. 

“Sure.”

Still, his bobbing thigh makes you wonder whether there’s something more to this whole thing than he lets on. 

—

The second time you try fucking Mark Lee is a week later. 

It’s not like you’re obsessed or anything, but the makeout sessions that keep getting longer and longer are driving you absolutely insane, and so it’s only natural that when you come home to find him sprawled out on the couch, looking so irresistible, you really want him to fuck you. Even if he’s all sweaty from the dance practice he attended earlier. Or maybe especially if he’s sweaty from that practice. 

“Hey,” you greet him upon entering the living room. “Did you just get back?”

He looks up at you, corners of his eyes creasing as he grins. His eyes seem a little tired, but they light up in excitement nevertheless. “Yeah, they let me off earlier today.”

“That’s nice,” you say. “You always come home so tired. You should rest more.”

“And you should come cuddle me, I’m cold.” 

You smile at his grabby hands, taking off your coat to go join him on the couch. His hair is littered with sweat, so there’s no way he’s actually cold, but you enjoy the feeling of his arms wrapping around your middle as he pulls you close, so you let it slide. Especially since you’ve been dying to see him all day, too. 

He nuzzles into your neck when you thread your fingers through his hair, a soft sigh meeting the skin of your throat as he leans into your touch. You like being this close to him — one of his thighs between your legs and his hands resting on your waist, playing with the hem of your shirt. Unsure of whether or not to slip under the fabric and touch your bare skin. You wish he’d do that, but he’s shy — always has been — and so you wait patiently, gently massaging his scalp with your fingers. 

“I missed you today,” he sighs as you tug at his hair softly. “I always miss you.” 

“I missed you, too, Markie.” 

He smiles and presses his lips against your neck in a featherlight kiss that forms goosebumps on your skin. You don’t pull away, and so he kisses you again — this time fully resting his mouth on your skin, tongue swiping over it and teeth scraping against it. It makes your eyes flutter shut, head instinctively leaning back to grant him better access. 

He takes his time and you let him, feeling pressure build up in your lower stomach as you wonder whether this will result in him dragging you to the bedroom. You hope it will, and so does the throb forming between your legs. 

Mark leaves a trail of kisses down your neck, hands slowly making their way under your shirt, causing you to smile. Subconsciously, you lift your hips off the couch so your clothed pussy can rub against the slowly growing bulge in his pants, and a small whine escapes past your lips. Mark groans at that, the sound turning into a soft moan when you tug at his hair. Breathing heavily, he ruts against you, fingers digging into the flesh on your hips. 

“Mark…” you moan into his ear. 

The way he bites down on your shoulder to muffle the noises coming out of his mouth makes you smile hazily. This is it, you think, there’s no way he’ll walk away without getting his dick wet now. You know him well enough to understand just from the way he’s breathing onto your neck that he’s about to completely lose control. 

And you want him to. So badly that you rub your soaked panties over his thigh to get some friction and urge him back into action. 

And it works for a while — his moans mixed with yours as he grabs at your thighs and rubs against you frantically. You meet him halfway, strengthening the groans leaving his mouth. It feels good, so good you swear you could’ve cum from just this, but you want him – all of him – and so you halt your needy movements so you can bring your hands to the waistband of his pants. 

But before you can even do anything, Mark’s hand grabs your wrist, making you look up in surprise. 

“You know what, I actually have an assignment I need to finish.”

You blink once, then twice, and a couple more times until you register his words. “What?

“I just remembered, sorry.” He looks to the left, nibbling on his bottom lip. You can tell he’s lying, but why? You furrow your brows, but Mark still looks somewhere else than your face, like he’s afraid to meet your gaze. “It’s due tomorrow, so I really should finish it.”

He finally looks at you, hesitation in his eyes as he untangles himself from you and rises up from his seat. The bulge in his pants is still more than obvious, hair a mess, and eyes wide. Still, he runs a hand through the locks to fix them a little and clears his throat, as if to signalize he’s about to leave. 

“But what about…” you trail off, eyes moving down to look at his dick poking through his sweats and then trailing back up again. “Don’t you want me to help you out?”

“It’s fine, I’ll just… Take care of it myself.”

“Are you sure?” 

He gulps, nodding, and you let him leave with a small smile sent his way, even though you’re confused and aroused to no end. 

Once he’s gone to his room, you fall back onto the couch, sighing. None of this makes any sense. He’s obviously horny, and the two of you have been dating for months already, showing intimacy in so many ways. So why is he so hesitant when it comes to fucking you? 

Is he insecure? No way. You’ve showered with him and there’s absolutely nothing about him he should be ashamed of. If anything, he should be dying to show off ever since you told him you think his cock is big. 

It’s obvious he wants this just as much as you do, so what the fuck is going on? 

—

Twenty three hours and seventeen minutes later, you decide it’s time to finally get to the bottom of this. 

It’s Saturday, and only a few hours ago Renjun and Hyuck went on some sort of trip together, announcing they’ll be away the whole weekend. Which grants you an amazing opportunity to talk to Mark. (And preferably fuck him, too, but that comes second. That’s what you repeat in your head as you walk into his room, finding him sprawled out on the bed. Looking really fuckable, you think, but that’s just a simple observation). 

“Renjun and Hyuck just left,” you tell him, closing the door behind you as you walk over to the bed. 

He grins, putting his arm around you and pulling you close. “Finally.”

You have to say you agree — though you’re not so sure whether the reasons for your contentments are the same. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter when you lie your head on Mark’s shoulder and he puts on one of those romance movies you once told him you wanted to watch. He smells like he’s fresh out the shower and his arms are warm around your waist, fingers circling the skin on your hip slowly. 

The movie is good, and soon, you forget all about your plans of talking to Mark. To your defense, he is really distracting. With his soft laugh that resonates through the room whenever something funny comes up on the screen, and his intoxicating scent, it’s easy to lose all sense of reality. You cuddle into his side and your fingers tap against his thigh — first to the tune of the movie, later just because you like feeling his skin under your fingertips. 

It’s not before your fingers mindlessly squeeze his thigh when you jump at some point during the movie that Mark gives a sign of discomfort, groaning quietly.

“You okay?” you ask immediately, worried.

He nods. “Yeah, just a little stale from practice.” 

You frown. When is this boy not overworked? Biting your lip, you rise from your spot on the bed, earning a confused look from Mark. You don’t say anything, just climb to sit on your knees behind him and place your hands on his shoulders. He turns his head to look at you, lips adorably pressed out in a pout. 

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you a massage. Just relax.”

He is, in fact, very tense, so it takes you some time to figure out where to press to relieve him of the tension, but once you do, he leans into your touch, groaning in satisfaction. You smile a little to yourself when he turns his head back to the TV, letting you do yours. It’s not like you’re a professional or anything, but the soft groans and whines he lets out when you dig your fingers into his muscles make you believe you might actually be pretty good at this. 

“Does it feel good?” 

Mark hums in agreement, and in return, you press a little harder on his shoulders. He groans and throws his head back to rest on your chest, something turning in your stomach when you feel his weight on your tits. Suddenly you’re very aware of him and his presence, and maybe it translates to your movements, because it has Mark turning around to face you. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” you tell him truthfully. “You look really handsome today.”

“Only today?”

You roll your eyes as he pulls you into his lap, pouting. 

“Always,” you admit finally, giving him a short kiss.

Or, at least it’s supposed to be a short kiss, but Mark decides to grab your cheeks and pull you flush against him. His lips are soft against your own, his warm tongue slipping inside your mouth when you open it to let out a small moan. He smiles into the kiss, hands caressing your waist, and so do you.

You try your best to ignore the slowly growing bulge in his pants when you reposition yourself in his lap, you really do, but when you move your leg just a little and he moans into your mouth, you can’t. And so you pull away from the kiss, heart thumping in your chest at the sight of his lips swollen and cheeks warm. 

“You know, I was thinking,” you draw small circles on his shoulder. “Since Hyuck and Renjun are away and we have the apartment to ourselves…”

You trail off, a little embarrassed, and watch his face intently. His gaze drops down to your body resting on his — first your legs, bare where your shorts have slid up, then up to your cleavage where it rests for a little longer than usual. 

He clears his throat. “Uh, actually, I have this paper–”

It doesn’t sound convincing at all, and so you cut him off.

“Mark.” you say and he responds with a small yeah? that has you sighing. “We need to talk about this.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but decides against it, instead resting his head against the headboard on his bed, looking up at you in defeat. 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” 

You wonder whether you should get off his lap, but his hands don’t move from their spot on your waist, so you stay. Your fingers rest on his shoulders, just barely grazing his neck as you look at him.

“Why are you acting like this?” you ask, a little hesitantly. Maybe you shouldn’t be bringing this up? But from the way Mark’s urging you to continue talking with his gaze, you decide it’s better to just spit it out. “Do you not… Do you not wanna sleep with me?”

His expression changes momentarily — brows furrowing and mouth falling open. 

“What? No! I mean, yes,” he groans at the way he’s stumbling over his words, one of his hands leaving your skin so he can rub the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I want to fuck you.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. It’s not like Mark’s a saint or anything, but you’ve never heard him saying something like that so directly. Something stirs up in your stomach and stays there no matter how much you wish it’d disappear. And you do wish it would dissappear because right now you’re supposed to be having a serious conversation with Mark, not getting turned on by him saying he wants to fuck you. 

“Jesus christ, that sounded so bad,” Mark groans and you giggle. 

“I don’t think it did,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the part about his words having an embarrassingly strong effect on you. “But if that’s not the problem, then what is?” 

“It’s just like,” he sighs, looking for the right words, and his hands squeeze your waist a little tighter. 

You wish he wouldn’t be so focused on what he’s about to say, because in that concentration, he pays no attention to his own fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, lifting it up an inch or two so he can touch your bare skin. Which again is making you lose focus. 

Thankfully, he brings you back to reality five seconds later as he clears his throat, looking to the side. 

“I just… You’re so perfect and hot and I’m scared that if I do fuck you, I’m gonna like, fucking lose it. And just screw everything up.”

You stay silent for a moment, gazing down on him as his fingers move higher up your shirt. You’re not sure whether he’s doing it on purpose or not, but it’s distracting nevertheless. 

“So what you’re saying is…” you furrow your brows. “You’re scared that you’ll shoot your load too quickly?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds embarrassing,” Mark groans, burying his head in the crook of your neck. His breath tickles your skin and you giggle softly, leaning into his touch. “But yes.”

You breathe out in something resembling relief. Thank god this is it. You were so worried something serious was going on, all the while he was stressing about cumming too fast. Why he’d even think you care about that, you don’t know. It’s so ridiculous you start laughing, earning yourself a slap on the thigh by Mark. 

“What are you laughing at?”

“You,” you poke his reddening cheeks. “You seriously think I care about how long you last?”

He thinks for a while, then tries, “Yeah?”

You shake your head with a smile. 

“Well, I don’t. It’s kind of mean to deprive me of seeing your dick just because of that, don’t you think?” 

You watch as heat flows to Mark’s cheeks, his hands grabbing your thighs tightly. “I-it is?”

“Mhm,” you lean forward to press your lips against his neck ever so slightly. “Very mean.” 

Mark feels himself twitch in his pants and he hopes to god you don’t feel it from where you’re seated in his lap. Maybe it’s a stupid wish, because he doubts anything can go unnoticed when two people are at such a close proximity, but he decides to ignore it, instead pulling you even closer, hands pushing your shorts up to reveal your upper thighs. He bites his lip, squeezing your legs so you rub against him when he rolls his hips into yours. 

“I guess I’ll have to make it up to you, then,” his voice is hoarse in your ear and you clench around nothing, walls fluttering in excitement. 

You nod eagerly and he smiles, hands finding their way to your waist again so he can pull your shirt over your head. The rest of your clothes quickly follow, leaving you completely naked in his lap, goosebumps forming on your skin as his eyes rake over your body. 

He tongues his cheek subconsciously, hands sliding up your body painfully slowly — first running over your thighs, then hips and stomach, until they reach your tits. You hold back a moan when he runs his thumb over your nipple before pinching it softly, watching as your legs rub together at the sensation. Desperately, you push your chest out against his hand, letting out a satisfied sigh when he wraps his hand around your breast, squeezing it. 

“Fuck, Mark,” you say as one of his hands push down on your hips, pressing your leaking pussy down on his clothed cock. “Please do something.”

“So needy,” he muses, and you whimper when he grabs your waist and lies you down on the bed so your back is pressed against the mattress. 

He’s still fully clothed, you realize, but you don’t really get to do anything about it before he ruts his hips against you, his sweats rubbing against your cunt and spreading your arousal across it. You hear him groan softly, and then you feel his finger graze your clit ever so slightly, making your whole body jolt in surprise. He chuckles, spreading your legs and watching as your breath turns uneven when he rubs your clit and runs his fingers through your folds leisurely. 

“So fucking wet,” he clicks his tongue. “Is it all for me, baby?”

“Yes, just for you,” you breathe out, bucking your hips up into his hand. “Please touch me, Markie, please.”

He groans, and has to close his eyes not to cum right then and there, from the sight of you sprawled out on the bed, begging him for more. This is going to be a lot harder than he thought. But he’s got something to prove, and to do that, he can’t exactly cum in his pants. So he takes a deep breath and opens his eyes again.

You buck your hips again, and this time, he listens to you, starting to rub his finger against your clit. He smiles, using his other hands to play with your tits, squeezing them as he pleases. You feel so vulnerable, so on display, but the way he’s playing with you only serves to intensify the throb between your legs. A small whimper leaves your mouth when he moves his fingers from your clit to slip inside of you with ease, your walls stretching around them. 

“Feel nice?” he asks, and you only nod, spreading your legs wider. 

He pushes his fingers in and out of you like it’s something he’s done a million times before, lewd sounds of his movements filling the room. You can only try to muffle your moans and fail miserably, letting whimpers of his name leave your mouth. 

Mark must like that, because not even a moment later, he’s leaning down between your legs and using the hands that were fondling with your tits to hold you down against the mattress. You almost feel like crying when his tongue touches your clit, his digits rubbing all the right places inside of you. He sucks and licks your pussy, fingers curling to hit that one spot that makes you grab at his hair and tug. 

Your reaction only makes him groan into your pussy, the vibrations making your legs try to close around his head. But he keeps them wide open, sucking on your clit, repeatedly hitting the right spots. 

“Yeah? You like this?” he pulls away to ask you after a particularly loud moan of his name. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper out, tears pricking your eyes at how he’s no longer touching you. “Don’t stop, Markie, please.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he mumbles into your cunt before diving back in, finding the spot that makes your toes curl immediately. 

The tension in your lower stomach is building up, the whimpers that leave your lips sounding more and more broken. Mark senses you’re close from the way your hips stutter in their way to buck up into his face, and adds a third finger to fill you up. You clench around him as the knot inside you comes untied, your legs shaking as he licks and sucks on your sensitive clit, fucking you through the orgasm with his fingers deep in your pussy.

You can only whimper as you come down from your high, tears streaming down your cheeks when Mark licks off all your arousal. Smile on his face and cock poking through his sweats, he sits up and takes you into his arms, letting you climb onto his lap again.

“Was it good, baby?” he asks you when you’re seated, like he doesn’t see the way your thighs are shaking. 

“Yes,” you tell him and press your lips against his. 

He kisses you back right away, pulling you flush against his chest. You can taste yourself on his tongue, but you don’t really mind, instead focusing on keeping him as close as possible. Your hips roll into his on their own, your cunt throbbing in need for him again the moment you feel his hard cock pressed against you. He sighs into your mouth at the slight relief, and you slide your hand down to palm him through his sweats.

You’re both content with that for a while — making out with your hand pressing against his cock. But after a while, when the throb between your legs is starting to become unbearable, you pull away from the kiss to untie his sweatpants and slide them down along with his boxers to pool down by his ankles. He exhales at that, cock standing proudly against his stomach when you wrap your hand around it. 

“Can I…” you look at him, squeezing your fingers around him so hips buck upwards and he lets out a soft moan. “Can I ride you?”

His mouth falls slightly open, but he closes it again as fast as he can gather his thoughts. It’s admittedly a little hard with your hand wrapped around his cock, but he manages to look a little less flustered and gather the courage to press the palm of his hand to your clit. 

“Baby wants to ride my cock?”

You can only manage a mewl and a nod of your head, but thankfully Mark doesn’t ask for a verbal response. He lifts your hips a little, positioning the tip of his cock at your entrance and you whine at him when he spends too much time coating his dick with your slick. He only smiles apologetically at you, squeezing your hip as he pushes you down on his cock.

He’s only halfway in when you grip his shoulders, whimpering.

“You okay?” he asks worriedly, stopping to check on you.

“S-so big…”

You feel him twitch from where he’s halfway buried in your cunt, and it makes your walls flutter around him. It’s good, but you need more, and so you wiggle your hips, try to readjust yourself to fit all of him inside. Mark’s patient with you, hands busy fiddling with your tits, fingertips ghosting over your nipples and eyelids heavy. 

You have to bite your lip to muffle the cry threatening to escape your mouth when you finally sink down on his cock fully. He’s big — so big it makes your head spin, pussy clenching around him and your nails digging into his arms. 

“Fuck,” Mark groans, leaning his head against the headboard. “I’m so in love with you, you know that?”

“I’m in love with you, too,” you giggle, but your laughter turns into a moan when Mark thrusts up into your cunt without warning.

He looks at you expectantly and so you tighten your grip on his shoulders, lifting your hips before sinking down on him again. It feels so good, and so you do it again and again, until you’re bouncing on his cock with your tits in his face. He starts pressing kisses against your nipples, and it only spurs you on further, your thighs lifting you off of him then letting you slam your hips against his. 

You feel so full, fucking yourself on his cock like this, and soon all you can do is push your chest out against his lips and moan his name. God, you’re glad Renjun and Donghyuck aren’t here, because you wouldn’t have been able to keep quiet even if you wanted with the way Mark’s dick is hitting all the right spots with every bounce of your hips. 

But even if you love how it feels, your legs were already shaking after your first orgasm, and now that you feel your second one approaching, the burn in your thighs is much more apparent. You try your best, you really do, but no matter how hungry you are for his cock, you’re forced to slow down when your thighs threaten to give out from underneath you. 

“Come on, you wanted to ride me, right?” Mark coos at your whines, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Where did your eagerness go, baby?”

“But I’m tired, Markie,” you whimper, feeling so upset you almost want to cry. “Please. Need your cock.” 

And who is he to deny you what you want when you’re asking so nicely? 

You outright scream his name when he grabs your hips and rolls them into his own. He starts off slow, but even when he’s careful, his cock reaches places deep inside you and makes your eyes roll to the back of your head from the fullness. Mark doesn’t seem to mind, though, his dick twitching inside of you when he makes the mistake of looking at your fucked out expression. Proving to you that he can last long is being pushed further and further to the back of his mind, though, because with how well you’re taking him, he doesn’t think he can hold up much longer. 

“Markie,” your head falls to the crook of his neck when he starts thrusting into you from below, your cries muffled by his skin. “Feels so good, Markie.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

His thrusts are deep and calculated, and you swear you can feel him in your stomach at some point. It’s so good you wish he’d never stop, but the coil in your stomach is tightening, a sense of rapture approaching, and so all you can do is cling onto him for dear life as he fucks you on his cock. He’s close too, twitching inside of you while he brings his fingers to rub sloppy circles on your puffy clit. 

Desperate to reach your high, you start bouncing up and down again, your slick forming a ring of white around the base of his cock as your cunt clenches around him repeatedly. 

You cum first, with his fingers on your clit and his lips sucking marks into your neck, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it only reach his high a few seconds later. He groans against your throat, a soft whine of your name, and then he’s shooting his cum deep inside of you as his hands tremble around your waist.

It takes a moment for both of you to regain your steady breathing, and when you do, Mark pulls out of you and helps you lie down on the mattress. You pull him in for a hug, which he reciprocates, wrapping his arms around you, allowing you to bathe in his scent. 

For a while, you just lie there quietly, wrapped up in each other’s limbs. It’s comfortable, just like it always is with Mark. 

“You were wrong,” you say finally, breaking the silence. 

He furrows his brows, looking down on you. “Wrong about what?”

“About not lasting long enough,” you poke his chest. “I’m pretty sure it was long enough if my whole body is sore.”

You see Mark’s cheeks tint pink for a moment before he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, hiding. 

“Aw, are you shy?” you laugh and he pulls away to send you a stern look. 

“Shut up, Y/N.”

And then he pulls you in for a kiss. 

THANK YOU TO @wuahae FOR THE IDEA FOR THIS FIC ILY

[foxcantswim]

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Wing-Animatronic]

(gif by me)

You are hopelessly in love with Vanessa, Bonnie is starting to get sick and tired of you not doing anything about it. Content: Pre-Relationship, Love/Crush Confessions, Soft!Vanessa, BESTBOI!BONNIE Warnings: N/A WC: 1,672

This fic is so self-indulgent. What I would give to hug Bonnie. I think my soul would actually be healed.

"You know what I mean right?"

Bonnie blinked extremely slowly as he simply looked at you.

"Of course you don't," you leaned back into your chair with a groan.

You had been venting to Bonnie for the past few hours of your shift now, it was becoming a nightly occurrence where he would keep you company in the office (whether he liked it or not...)

"All I'm saying is. She's very attractive and way out of my league."

You were certain Bonnie was trying his hardest to roll his eyes as best he could.

"I'm right, though!" you tried to reason. All Bonnie did was give you a thumbs down in response.

You've had this huge crush (well, it was becoming much more than just a crush nowadays) on a certain blonde police officer you had met on your first night shift a couple months back. She had helped you get a grip on the tasks on your shifts and she had been more than happy to accompany you every other night whenever her own shifts allowed her. She'd always been extremely understandable whenever you opened up to her, she never failed to make you laugh with her stupid dad jokes and she was just overall incredible to be around. The silly playful flirting she had clearly done with you in the past was always welcome, but a part of you wasn't sure whether she meant for the flirtations to be romantic or if they were just jokes.

"You're not being very helpful right now, Bonnie."

He cocked is head at you as if to say 'Are you serious?'

"Come on! How do I successfully win Vanessa's heart?"

Of course he didn't reply.

"You know, if anyone were to walk in and see me talking to you like this they would think I was crazy."

As the hours went on you continued to moan and complain about how you'd never be able to impress Vanessa. About how someone like that could never love someone like you. You were effectively breaking your own heart and putting yourself down. Your hand had been fiddling with a pen for the past couple hours, scribbling various hearts on the back of some paperwork. The name 'Vanessa' was in the middle of said hearts.

You were acting like a love sick teenager with their first crush. You shook your head to snap yourself out of it.

Bonnie took a step away, intending to leave the room.

"Hey! Don't leave me alone when I'm stressed!" you whined.

Bonnie stayed.

Why couldn't it have been Freddy, Chica or Foxy? Why him? Why did he have to listen to all this?

The first few nights he thought it was somewhat interesting and cute to hear you talk about your feelings towards Vanessa. But that interest quickly turned into annoyance after about a week. He liked Vanessa. And he liked you. So of course he wanted to help you in any way he could.

The alarm on your watch finally rang. 6am.

You let out a sigh of relief, moving to turn the monitors off.

"Well... Thanks, Bon. I appreciate you listening. I promise I'll make a move on her. Maybe..." you muttered the last part, clearly not trusting yourself.

You stood up from the desk and grabbed your jacket and keys. You left the office and waved towards the other animatronics before you finally exited the pizzeria.

Bonnie had stayed back in the office, simply waiting for you to leave. His eyes soon locked onto the desk... More specifically the old paperwork on the desk you had left.

The following night, Vanessa had showed up just as you started your shift. She had followed you into the pizzeria, greeting the animatronics as she did.

"I told you to clean up that mess, Y/N!" Vanessa rolled her eyes as she headed over to a nearby closet to grab a mop. She had wanted you to clean up the mess that Chica and Foxy had made last night. They had knocked over a couple glasses of drinks as they ran throughout the pizzeria.

You shrugged, "I'm lucky you love me enough to clean it up for me," you smirked before walking off towards the office, intending to turn the monitors on.

Vanessa rolled her eyes to herself, however a soft smile appeared on her face at your words. She found the mop before turning back towards the mess, however she wasn't expecting to bump into something.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Sorry, Bonnie. Didn't see you there."

He blinked at her before raising a hand.

Vanessa look down at his outstretched hand, she raised an eyebrow in confusion.

In Bonnie's palm there was a piece of paper. Vanessa cautiously eyed it. In the centre of the page there was a messily scribbled heart with the name 'Vanessa' right in the centre.

She let out a quiet laugh, "Aw, thanks. I love you too, big guy," she patted his arm in thanks. She took the mop and headed over towards the mess. She didn't quite see when Bonnie started to shake his head in disagreement. He desperately wanted to tell her that it was in fact you who had drawn that heart. Not him.

The absolute annoyance and stress he was feeling right now...

Bonnie wasted no time in trudging towards the office.

"Hey, Bonnie," you greeted him with a smile as he entered.

He grabbed your arm, quite forcefully, and began to pull you towards the door.

"What's gotten into you?" you asked in confusion.

His other hand moved towards your face, giving you a clear view of a very familiar piece of paper.

"You want me to do that now?!"

He nodded slightly.

"I-I can't Bonnie. It's not the right time. She doesn't like me the same way I like her," you looked down in defeat.

He nodded again, trying to encourage you.

Vanessa cleared her throat, trying to get yours and Bonnie's attention.

You both looked towards the doorway.

"Everything all right in here?" she said, a slight smile in her face at the strange scene she was looking at. She noticed Bonnie holding up the paper directly in front of your face... Your face which was now slowly being covered by a bright blush.

The cogs in the blonde's brain were turning as she desperately tried to work out what was going on.

"Yep!" you squeaked, "Perfectly normal interaction we are having right now," you tried to pull away from Bonnie's strong grip.

Bonnie shook his head frantically. He raised his hand towards Vanessa, showing her the piece of paper again.

"Y-Yeah. You already showed me that buddy-"

He stomped his foot, narrowing his eyes. He then brought the paper back towards you and then back in Vanessa's direction. Over and over, trying to convey what he was meaning.

"Shut up right now, Bonnie," you warned him.

Vanessa felt her mouth go dry as a blush of her own covered her cheeks.

"Y/N..." her voice was soft, immediately making your heartbeat increase, "I don't want to jump to any conclusions here but... Is Bonnie trying to say that you drew that? Not him?"

Great. Now Vanessa was going to think you were an idiot. An idiot who acted like a lovesick obsessed puppy.

"It's stupid, Nessy," you muttered, finally ripping your arm away from Bonnie's grasp. You looked away out of embarrassment before heading over to your chair and plopping down in it.

Vanessa sighed before stepping closer to Bonnie, his hand slowly outstretched towards her. She grabbed the paper and couldn't help but smile down it at it.

"Thanks, buddy," she said before moving towards you.

Bonnie nodded before slowly exiting the room.

"Y/N," she said, turned your chair to face her, "It's not stupid."

"Yes it is," you groaned, hiding your face in your hands, "Can we just forget about this and-"

She giggled, placing the paper on the desk, "It's not stupid. It's cute. It's cute that you have a crush."

"It's so embarrassing, Vanessa," you felt slightly hurt by her mocking you.

Rolling her eyes, Vanessa picked up a pen, "Would it make you feel better if I did the same thing?"

You raised an eyebrow at her, curious as to what she meant. That's when she reached for the paper, and drew her own heart underneath the one you had drawn... Your name was soon in the centre of it.

"You gettin' the picture yet?" she said, hoping you would understand that yes... the feelings were definitely mutual.

You weren't entirely sure on what to say, you simply stared at the paper on the desk.

Vanessa threw the pen down, before cocking her head towards you, "So yes or no?"

"Y-Yes or no?" you questioned.

"How about you let me take you on a date the next time you're off shift?"

This was a dream. It had to be. There was no way this beautiful woman was asking you out on a date right now.

"Need me to repeat myself-?"

"No!" you exclaimed, "I-I mean yes, I mean-"

Vanessa laughed again, "Cute," she muttered before leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek, "I guess I'll be seeing you at the end of the week."

You froze in your chair at the contact.

"Y-Yeah. I'll see you at the end of the week."

Gods, that day could not come soon enough.

The next night, you had hugged Bonnie tightly. His huge hands had patted you on the back in comfort.

He strutted around the pizzeria, gloating at the fact that he was the best wing-animatronic to ever exist. At the end of the day, he was thankful that you confided and vented to him.

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp ; @emiliaisdead ; @natashas-whore

[honeykaes]

a renter's deal

pairing: renter!kaveh x afab!reader II 2.2k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, cunnilingus, fingering, reader had a previous crush on kaveh, unambiguous if kaveh knew, reader is a landlord, unedited

synopsis: your old college-friend (and crush) Kaveh hadn’t paid rent yet. Just as you draft an email to inform him of the consequences, you hear a knock at the door wish a kaveh desperate to pay you back in other ways.

Cicadas loud chirping echoing from outside as your a/c continuously blast to avoid the hot temperatures of the summer from creeping into your apartment complex. It was the end of the month as the next loomed over in a couple of days. As the landlord, this was one of your busiest times. From working on paperwork moving people out of apartments to finalizing paperwork and credit scores to move people into the apartment, you had your work cut out for you—especially when it came to residents paying their dues for their apartments.

A fan blew past you, causing your body  to shiver as you shake your head trying to focus again on the laptop in front of you. An excel sheet on the screen greeted you back, tracking everyone’s payments. Apartment 125, Tighnari, paid in full. So did apartment 243, Aether and Lumine,  before they moved out.

As you scrolled down, you noticed only a few people had not paid you for rent yet despite today being the last day of the month—including your old college friend, Kaveh.

You and Kaveh were once friends in college before losing contact after graduating. He was always very popular and friendly, a heart of gold that always managed to get hurt by one situation or another. He was now a pretty-well known architect trying to start his own firm. 

You helped him through his breakups, his tests—his ups and downs, as he did the same for you. You wanted to reconnect when you first worked with him, moving in to his complex but things weren’t the same. The two of you aren’t the same 18, 19 year olds staying up late and going to a midnight movie showing before an exam like you used to—you both were in your late twenties, different responsibilities and interests pulling you.

And that scared you, so you gave him space.

Since the economy had slowed and businesses and organizations were interesting in building more projects anymore, Kaveh suffered immensely, scrapping anything he could to try to pay rent at the last minute to you. You felt bad but you didn’t want to pry either. 

You let out a sigh, clicking on your emails as you began to draft. Since he was late on payment, a meeting needed to be scheduled and fees processed to strategize a plan. You didn’t want to evict the poor man; or anyone for that matter.

Just as you finished drafting the email, you turned your head hearing a knock at the door. Placing your laptop on your coffee table and rising from the couch, you expected a resident to inform you about something breaking or not working. Your lips parted in shock to see Kaveh at the door. 

Kaveh seemed completely disheveled, long blond ombre hair, a mess unlike its usually tidy self. His clothes were wrinkled and unfastened as if he had just woken up and immediately ran here. He leans along the wall near your door, chest heaving loudly as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Kaveh?! Are you alright?!” you stammered out. Kaveh puts a finger out to signal to give him a second before he finally catches his breath.

“N-No. I’m so sorry I’m late on rent,” he groaned. “I am working with this school to create a playground but they won’t be able to pay me until next week. I’m a bit short with rent with my current funds.”

Your lips curled downwards before lifting your head to to nurse the headache threatening to form from the stress of the situation.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been late, Kaveh. I can’t grant you a grace period. I really need that money in full,” you murmured. Kaveh turned to face you, scarlet eyes misty in desperation. Your heart withered seeing him in this state, but you feared bugging would put you on a tight spot with your boss.

“Please (Y/n)! You got to understand, I really tried this time. I can give you what I have and give you the remaining next week! Then I’ll be good to go for next month,” Kaveh yelled out. 

“Kaveh, let’s continue this inside, okay? I’ll get you a glass of water or some tea to calm your nerves,” you beckoned, as your own anxiety began to creep in your stomach, you open your door beckoning Kaveh to come inside without a potential audience watching the two of you.

As he nervously entered, stifly sitting himself at the couch as you leave to enter your adjacent kitchen.

“I am only short 500 out of the 1500 dollars for rent and utilities. I can surely give that to you next week,” Kaveh called out as you prepare some glasses of water for you two. You sigh once more, leaning yourself against the fridge trying to figure out what to say without hurting your old friend’s feelings anymore.

“Kaveh, technically it wouldn’t be 500 but 1000. 100 for the late fee and 400 because this is the second time, along with the 500. I don’t make these policies, my bosses do,” you replied solemnly, guilt beginning to eat at you.

“Then what can I do to prevent the late fees from occurring!” he asked.

In college, whenever he was in a bad situation, to make him feel better you always started off with a ridiculous joke to catch him off guard before giving some sound advice with a smile. Oftentimes, he’d be smiling back, hopeful and taking your feedback and lighthearted jokes for the better.

Grabbing the glasses of water, you walked back into the living room placing the waters on the coffee table and closing your laptop.

“I don’t know, fuck me or something,” you idly murmured out before chuckling. Just as you were about to give him actual advice, Kaveh fell to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your legs. You gasped, flustered,  body shifting in embarrassment feeling his close contact.

“Kaveh! What are you doing! It was a joke! Y’know like I used to do in college!” you stammered out. Kaveh lifted his head up, eyebrows slightly furrowed in determination.

“Well, I’m not! I wouldn’t mind it at all. If this makes those pesky late fees go away, I’d be more than happy to do this and more!” Kaveh replied. You tried forming words from your quivering lips but your mind seemed to be malfunctioning, feeling his lips beginning to trail along your thighs, placing soft kisses along the skin.

“...Please (Y/n). For old times sake?” he whispered. 

Your heart tugged remembering the big crush you had on him before and the drunken kisses you shared with him as you attending parties together leaving you longing for more—the memories were flooding you like a tidal wave.

“...Okay, Kaveh…”

With a small smile gracing his sun-kissed face, Kaveh hands trailed up as his fingers hook on their shorts and the waistband of your underwear and gilded them down. He leaned his face in, puffs of his hot breath causing your body to shiver from the sensation as your clit began throbbing in anticipation.

His face tilts closer, darting his tongue out as he trailed a long swipe between your folds. The muscles curled up to brush against your clit, jolts of pleasure rooting through you from the sudden touch. He swirled along the bud of nerves, hands squeezing at your thighs. Your hands reached over to his hair, playing with the soft curls and losing yourself to pleasure.

He flicked his tongue along the nub, feeling your hips beginning to rock along his face. A low groan emitted from you as you ground yourself against him, his lips circling around your clit before beginning to suck. He continued to switch from sucking to rapidly flicking and circling his tongue on your clit while his hand crept up to squeeze your ass so he could keep up with your movements.

As he continued, one hand eventually left the globe letting two of his fingers sink into your dribbling cunt, coated with your arousal and his saliva. He pumped them deliberately slowly, your legs shaking from his delicate touch, wanting more.

“Kaveh,” you whimpered out, hearing him slurp continuously as your slick graced his mouth. He nuzzled his face deeper into your cunt, as his fingers pumped inside your pulsating walls, curling and massaging themselves to get you closer to your high.

Shutting your eyes, your hands traveled to your chest and squeezed it tightly as your voice began to rise, feeling Kaveh’s tongue press harder against the button. You throw your head back, as your high finally reached you. Kaveh struggled to keep up with your movements as he continued to thrust his fingers inside of you, nursing your high before it fell down. 

With slight jitters, Kaveh finally leaned away, lower mouth completely coated in your slick. His tongue was parted out, strings of your arousal still connecting the muscle with your cunt. Your tired eyes stared down in embarrassment, cheeks warm in shame as Kaveh wipes his mouth in content.

You could see the bulge poking out from his pants.

“W-Well! You’ve done your part! So—”

You're interrupted by Kaveh rising from his knees on the floor and connecting his lips with your own in a passionate kiss. You can’t help but moan, feeling his tongue, stained in your juices, roam inside your own mouth as he pulled you closer. He momentarily broke the kiss, both of you trying to catch your breaths, lips hovering by your own.

“I want to ensure that you don’t go back on your word though. So please, let me ensure your pleasure…” Kaveh breathlessly begged, claiming your lips once more. His hands wandered to your waist as pinned you against the wall—paintings knocking roughly from the sudden movement. 

Breaking the kiss once more, he zipped his pants down, revealing his throbbing erection. His cock was flushed, shivering as he took a hold of it as precum budded at its tip, dripping down to the rest of his length. He pumped it a few times with a shaky moan erupting from his lips before using another hand to slightly light your leg up near his small waist.

Your lips trembled as the tip of his cock spread past your folds trying to find your entrance, gathering up the abundant slick drooling from you. As Kaveh lined himself up, he placed his lips by your ear and with a low groan, sank himself inside of you. 

He grunted loudly when he finally bottomed out, cock nestled deep inside of you. He pecked at your neck before snapping his hips back, thrusting himself inside of you. The paintings hit the wall rowdily to the pace of his thrusts. 

“I hope you’re enjoying my end of the d-deal…” Kaveh grunted out, pressing his lips against your ear so you could hear all of his little noises. You moaned in response as Kaveh reached over to press tight circles along your overstimulated clit. 

“Y-You made me so sensitive,” you admitted, as you chirped, feeling Kaveh shifting his angle pistoning inside of you so he was not hitting that spot he desperately wanted to find.

“T-That’s the point. I want to make you cum so hard. I know you can…you're so close aren’t you, eshgham,” he whispered, nibbling on your neck. Kaveh could feel your walls beginning to cave in and spasm, signaling your end was close. 

“K-Kav—” Kaveh captured your lips as you reached your second climax, your body shivering pinned against him. Hips sloppily faltered as he furrowed his eyebrows to try to control his own temptations and guide you down your high once more.

As glossy lips part from your own, Kaveh slipped his cock out, pumping it rapidly before a desperate groan emitted from his lips before biting down to try to be quieter. Ropes of cum shot from his tip, smearing themselves on your thighs. 

He watched as his cum glided down the curves of your wobbling leg. He let your other leg down before supported your weight on your body with a small smile.

“Easy there…you’re probably very overstimulated. Let’s get you all cleaned up in your bathroom. Where is that,” he asked. You tiredly pointed into the direction of your bedroom as he guided you toward it. As he opened the door, he gently set you down on the rim of the porcelain bathtub before reaching to grab a rag on your towel rack.

“I’m sorry for going a little overboard. I just wanted to ensure I had done my part. Keeping my end of the deal is important to me,” he murmured, wetting the towel up with some soap before wiping it down to clean your legs. As he wiped over your cunt, you whined at the burn of overstimulation getting to you.

“...So, please, please please don’t go back on your word, (Y/n),” he begged, with large  pleading eyes. You sighed once more, but to his surprise it was a lot lighter in tone than earlier.

“...You don’t have to pay rent at all for this month, okay? I’ll cover it…just focus on getting the money for the next month,” you whispered. Kaveh lit up as a grin curled on his face. He leaned in placing a tender kiss on your forehead as your cheeks fought against a blush.

“...I missed you Kaveh…” you admitted. Kaveh brushed part of your hair away.

“I missed you too.”

[detachedminxsfics]

Caught In The Act

Masterlist

Characters: Max x F!Reader

Summary: When your landlord Max offers to do you a favour you come home to a pleasant surprise when you get off work early

Word count: 3.3K

Warnings: NSFW - Voyeurism, brief handjob, oral (m recieving), vaginal sex, creampie, riding, praise, dirty talk, soft dom/switch max bc he's a cutie

A/N: This is just what we all wanted to do during the bathtub scene. Enjoy :)

The alarm on your bedside table blared restlessly as you attempted to pry your eyes open, rolling over to stretch your arm and aimlessly fumble for it until you felt it beneath your palm and slammed your hand down on top, silencing it. With a huff you managed to haul yourself out of bed to get ready for work, making sure you had everything you needed in your bag and slipping your shoes on when you heard a knock at the door, which you hurried to open when you got your other shoe on. It was your landlord and next-door neighbour Max whom you'd grown rather close with over the past few months of living in the building. He'd been a good friend to you when you needed him most and you'd spent plenty of nights since you moved in getting takeout and watching movies together or even him cooking for you, which he often insisted on doing when you'd had a particularly stressful work week. His eyes lit up a little when the door opened to reveal you, a small smile on his lips before he started to speak.

"Hey, I know it's early but I was thinking about that leak in the kitchen you told me about and was wondering if I can take a look at it for you, and fix it up if I can?"

Max was wearing a navy blue t-shirt with some slightly baggy charcoal grey work jeans, which you could tell from the way they were splattered with various shades of paint. He'd been wearing them when you first came to view the apartment, the moment when the man practically changed your life by offering you the place.

"Sure, but I've gotta go to work. Last minute shift change." You sighed as you stepped away from the door to grab your bag from the small glass table in your hallway, which prompted Max to enter the apartment.

"Well I can fix it up while you're at work and lock up when I'm done, I've got a key." He suggested, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he watched you make a last minute check of the items in your bag.

"Really? That would be great, thank you."

As you made way for the door you stopped to lean in and plant a quick peck on Max's cheek, the stubble of his salt and pepper beard slightly scratching against your lips when you did. His eyes were closed when you pulled back until they fluttered open to look back into yours, a smile creeping onto his lips again as you continued towards the door.

"I'll see you later, Max." You said as you grasped the door handle.

"Have a good day at work." He simply replied with a polite nod of his head, watching as you closed the door and listening to your footsteps get further and further down the hall.

He was just thankful that the way his hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans concealed the way they started to shake when he felt your lips against his skin.

Since you came in last minute on what was technically supposed to be your day off you managed to convince your boss to let you leave early when things got quiet, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you rode the elevator up to the floor of your apartment and headed down the hall once the doors opened. You tested the handle of your door to see whether it was locked only to find that it wasn't, the door swaying open meaning Max must have not locked up since he hadn't finished up in the kitchen yet, not that it bothered you that he was still inside. You stepped in and quietly closed the door, kicking your shoes off and starting to make your way to the kitchen when you heard it, stopping in your tracks the moment the sound reached your ears. Groaning. You followed the sound down the hall and into your bedroom, but when you peered into your bedroom there was nothing there until you turned and stole a glance through the doorway of your en suite bathroom and finally identified the source of the sound. Max was lying down in the bathtub, his head resting back on the porcelain rim and his hand buried beneath his jeans. Low, raspy groans fell from his throat whilst his hips bucked up slightly with every stroke of his hand, his chest rising and falling as his breaths started to get heavier and faster. It was hard to believe what you were seeing, but you couldn't possibly bring yourself to look away. The way his eyes were screwed shut and a stray strand of hair curled against his forehead, the way his lips parted to let out the soft grunts that were progressively turning into more desperate, drawn-out pleas, the way the veins decorating his hands bulged as he shamelessly tried to bring himself to his release in your bathtub. You couldn't get enough of it. Sure you had treated one another as friends these past few months, but you could never shake the suspicion that Max harboured feelings towards you that made him wish you were a little more than just friends. You'd held off on the idea of developing feelings for him in the worry that if things didn't work out between you two you'd be stuck living in the same building and having an ex as your landlord. It wasn't practical, but with the way the man was touching himself before your very eyes you weren't sure you could keep up with doing the right thing, the smart thing.

"Max?"

Your voice made his eyes shoot open before he sat up, cursing under his breath and awkwardly trying to tuck himself back into his pants, his eyes darting between you and his hands fumbling with the open fly of his jeans.

"Hey you're, you're back earlier than I thought you'd be." He stated breathlessly with a nervous smile, but there was no way for him to cover up what he was doing.

"Clearly." You teased as you started towards the tub causing him to glance up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of worry and surprise.

Wordlessly you leaned down and started to palm the clothed bulge straining against his jeans, his hips jolting up at the contact and his hand gently closing around the wrist of the hand you were using to touch him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, seemingly more taken aback by how forward you were being rather than opposed to the idea.

You only hushed him and slid your hand over his groin until you reached the fly of his jeans, carefully undoing the sloppily half-up zipper and delving your fingers beneath the denim and the waistband of his boxers until you felt your fingertips graze over his shaft. His skin was hot to the touch and he hissed through his teeth as you gave it a small squeeze, the reaction making you bite your lip at how sensitive he seemed to be. Wanting more of him you started to tug down his jeans and boxers prompting Max to lift his hips to help you slide it down easier, his cock springing free once he did, and what a treat that was. Max was big with just the right amount of thickness, his tip swollen and glistening with pre-cum practically aching to be touched aside from his already desperate, strained anticipatory breaths. You lightly ran your thumb over the tip to gather the stickiness, a contented moan escaping his lips as you circled it before lifting your thumb to your mouth and sucking it clean with a pleased hum. Then you leaned back over the tub once again, bracing your hand on the edge of the bath whilst you wrapped your other hand around the base of his cock and started to stroke, his mouth falling open at the sensation as a bunch of throaty moans followed. Still working him with your hand you turned your head to the side to press your lips against his, his lips moving back against yours instantly and his tongue lightly sweeping over yours. After a moment you broke the fervent kiss, parting your lips just enough that they were still barely grazing against his.

"You're so noisy." You playfully remarked with a small giggle, your comment making his brows bounce up.

"Do you want me to be quieter? I can be quieter." He pleaded against your lips clearly flustered, which only made you shake your head and smile.

"I never said it was a bad thing. Besides, what's the worst that could happen, someone puts in a noise complaint?" You whispered against his lips, brushing your lips over his teasingly.

You brought your mouth against his again, his hand reaching up to comb his fingers through your hair and deepen the kiss. You continued to enjoy his mouth some more, even pulling back slightly to lightly nip at his bottom lip before kissing over it and then leaning back up again, unwrapping your hand from his shaft.

"Sit up." You ordered, to which he complied and leaned up until he was sitting in the bath.

You swung your leg over and climbed in, lowering down into the space at the bottom of the tub and laying down on your stomach, your head hovering over his lap.

"I wanna taste you."

You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and swept your tongue over his swollen tip, the warm wetness of your tongue making his hips bounce up at the feeling and a grunt rumble from his throat. Then you licked a stripe from the base to the tip, your tongue running over the vein bulging in his shaft and swirling over the head once you reached it again, the salty taste of pre cum coating your tongue.

"Please." Max begged as you ran your tongue over him, his hands trembling at his sides as it took everything in him not to coax it past your lips, and he practically looked like he was about to explode any minute.

Removing your hand you kept your eyes on his, slowly sliding him past your lips and into your mouth, taking his cock as far down as your throat would allow.

"Shit. Oh, baby." He moaned out, slipping his fingers into your hair and caressing the strands as you bobbed your head.

You loved how vocal he was, the way he threw his head back when you enthusiastically moaned around him, and how responsive he was from even the smallest of touches.

"Your throat feels even better than I imagined." He rasped, the flattery making you drag your lips up his cock sucking a bit harder as you did, before sliding your mouth all the way back down on him.

You didn't mind that Max had imagined this before. Truthfully, you'd indulged in a fantasy or two involving him once or twice when you first moved in, you'd just never entertained the idea of it after that. Oh, how wrong you were. He started to grow restless, the hand stroking your hair stopping to gather some in his hand as he started lifting his hips in time with your mouth, chasing his release with his heavy lidded chocolate brown eyes fixed on yours.

"Sweetheart, I-I'm gonna-" He drawled, cut off by the way his orgasm seemed to hit him and his cock twitched in your mouth, his hips stuttering as his whole body shuddered.

You moved your mouth off of him just enough to be able to swallow, warm ropes of his release filling your mouth and coating your tongue, lightly sucking him through it and milking his cock until he seemed to be empty and softened a bit in your mouth. Carefully you slipped him from your mouth and swallowed it down, some beads of cum still having escaped from your lips trailing down his cock which you leaned down to lick off.

"You are perfect." Max added breathlessly while reaching out to caress the side of your face, his thumb tenderly stroking over your cheek.

You leaned into the touch with a smile, his hand still on your face as you crawled over him until you were hovering over his lap and then sat down, his semi-hard erection resting against your clothed crotch. His free hand reached up to start stroking over your thigh, caressing it as he went and then moving to take hold of your hip. He used the hold on your face to crash his lips against yours, the grip he had on your hip growing firmer as you moved your lips against his, and his hips subconsciously rocked beneath you in search of friction.

"You wanna fuck me?" You whispered in between kisses, to which he pulled back just enough to breathe his sentiment into your mouth.

"More than anything." Max murmured eagerly, and you smiled against his lips before leaning back to take hold of the hem of your top, crossing your arms and lifting it over your head.

He did the same, throwing his navy blue tee over his head and tossing it onto the floor beside your tub, a pile of clothes starting to form as you reached down to get your pants off, sitting up enough that you could push them past your thighs and roll them down to your ankles. You kicked them off once you got them down your legs then turned and reached behind you to help Max get his boxers and pants off from where they had gathered at his calves, throwing them to join the heap of clothes now on the floor. He took hold of your hips again, and you hovered over him just enough to feel the way he was hard and ready against your inner thigh. You reached down to guide him to your entrance and then began slowly lowering yourself down onto him, the stretch around him making a pained moan fall from your mouth.

"Mm, Max." His name rolled off your tongue so wantonly, every inch of him gradually filling you.

He pressed his lips against yours to muffle your cries, one of his hands coming up to cup one side of your face again, his other still resting over your hip.

"It's okay, it's okay." He cooed between kisses as you tried to adjust to the feel of him, and soon your ass was pressed against his thighs as you took him to the hilt.

Letting go of your face he took hold of your other hip and moved slightly, the first lift of his hips enough to make his mouth fall open and a husky groan follow suit, mirroring him as a needy whine spills from yours. Bracing your hands on his shoulders you started to roll your hips, creating a slow, rhythmic bounce that Max aided with his grip on you. You moved your hand to his chest, caressing your way up to his shoulders and then to the nape of his neck, slipping your fingers into his thick brown locks as you leaned forward and started pressing kisses on his neck, languidly working your way down to his collarbone and the generous curls of hair sparsely adorning his chest. Your other hand smoothed over the top of his arm, running your fingers over one of the many tattoos his body was littered with and lightly squeezing his bicep which made him hum appreciatively. With time you began picking up the pace, sliding all the way up and then coming down on him hard, the wet slapping sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the bathroom as your ass smacked against his thighs. His hands moved to your ass cupping it firmly as you bounced on him, caressing it as he rocked his hips in time with your movements.

"Good girl, god you're so tight." He praised, moaning out as your walls massaged his cock.

Your knees started to ache, feeling bruised from the way you'd been kneeling on the small space of porcelain on either side of him. You slowed your movements to mumble through your strained breaths.

"My legs are gonna give out." You whispered with a giggle.

Max seemed to get the idea, repeatedly pressing his lips against yours as he gripped your thighs and leaned forward, gently laying you down on your back and hovering over you, your legs draped over his hips. He didn't waste any time in moving again, thrusting his hips as he fucked into you deeply and his mouth found its way to your jaw, kissing along it and allowing his beard scruff to scratch against your skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands resting on the nape of his neck and playing with the curls of hair above it. His lips trailed kisses along the side of your neck, then over your throat and down to your collarbone, affectionately marking you in whatever way he could. Eventually, the pressure in your abdomen started to build and you wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your legs at all the right times to try and spur him to go deeper. He listened to your wordless request, burying his cock into you and pumping into you with hard, bottomless thrusts.

"Max, Max I-" His name tumbles from your mouth in the form of a plea, repeating his name over and over again amidst a string of curses.

"I've got you, it's okay baby." He hushes you, coaxing you to your orgasm with soft reassurances and it's more than enough to tip you over the edge.

You cling to him as you let out an unrestrained, sweet cry, your whole body trembling beneath him as he holds you and fucks you through it. With his eyes fixed on you and wholly focused on your expression he succumbs to his release too, his hips stuttering and guttural groans spewing from his throat. He spills into you, filling you with his warm release and then lightly collapsing on top of you, careful not to put too much weight on you. He collects himself for a moment before propping himself up on his elbows and reaching up to stroke your cheek.

"Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, right? I wasn't too rough?"

Before the endless list of paranoid possibilities he was babbling continued you silenced him with your lips, pressing them against his and kissing him softly. After a moment of just basking in the feel of him you broke the kiss, cupping his face and resting your forehead against his.

"I love you, Max. I should've said this sooner, but I love you."

His eyes widened a little, a smile of genuine, unbridled happiness playing on his lips. He couldn't believe you had finally said those three little words that he'd only ever dreamed about hearing.

"I love you too, so much."

Your lips met again, your arms wrapping around his waist as you embraced him. You stayed like that for a little while, the once cold porcelain beneath your back now warm from your skin, and Max's hands were all over you like he wasn't sure he'd ever let you go. Eventually, he broke the kiss, his nose still brushing against yours as he spoke.

"Why don't I draw you a bath, make us some dinner and then we can watch a movie, hm?"

He suggested, nuzzling his nose against yours and making you laugh.

"Okay okay, but only if you'll get in the bath with me, and one with actual water this time."

Max snorted his laughter and swept a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Deal."

[lila-lou]

✨Needy - Pt. 1/4✨

Summary: Jensen finally comes home after weeks of filming and shows you how much he missed you.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Language, smut, pregnant reader

Word Count: 2477

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

"How do you feel?".

You were currently laying on your large sofa in the living room, your head resting on your left hand while your right hand caressed your belly.

“I’m fine Jay, really”, you smiled at your boyfriend, who was walking over to you with a beer and an orange juice. He looked beyond tired and exhausted. Not surprising considering he only landed four hours ago.

Austin wasn't known for large snowfalls in the winter, so this exceptional situation had led to complications with flights. Jensen's already long flight landed over three hours late, which didn't help his mood. When he saw his pregnant fiancée curled up on the sofa with a broken rib, he was more than pissed. Jensen had only endured the last few weeks on set because he was clinging to the thought that he would soon be able to hold you in his arms again. You and your unborn baby. You've been calling each other every night for the past two weeks to pass the wait, but not once have you mentioned your broken rib.

“Here you go”, Jensen tried to say as nicely as he could while handing you the orange juice, but all the words that came out of his mouth were mumbled. He actually knew that he shouldn't ruin the evening with a bad mood, but the last few weeks had taken a toll on him and his nerves were frayed. Not only was everything going haywire on set, but he also missed you. You were five months pregnant and he felt like he had already missed everything.

You gratefully accepted the glass and took a long sip before setting it aside. Jensen stared blankly at the television, which was playing a horror movie.

“Hey”, you sighed, taking his free hand in yours. “I just didn’t want to burden you unnecessarily. You were always so worried about me and the Baby and with all the stress on set, I thought you wouldn't have to worry about more. I went to the doctor and it’s not that bad”, you tried to explain yourself, but Jensen just rolled his eyes.

“(y/n), you are carrying our child! Do you really think there is something more important at the moment than you and your well-being?”, he replied, still slightly irritated. Of course Jensen was worried and you loved him more than anything for that, but sometimes he could be really overprotective.

“If I promise you, that I won't withhold anything from you anymore, can we please end the evening somewhat peacefully? You didn’t even kiss me when you came in”, you murmur towards the end. Jensen took a long sip of beer and sighed in resignation. Of course he knew he was acting like an ass and that you absolutely didn't deserve that, but he was just worried and stressed.

"You're right. I'm sorry. It's just... the last few weeks have been really stressful and... I feel like I've already missed so much with the little worm", Jensen admitted a little desperately before gently pulling you into his arms. “Besides, I missed you terribly”, he kissed your head lightly.

“Jay… I’m only five months pregnant. We still have four long and wonderful months ahead of us before things get tricky with you being away. You haven't missed anything yet. Except maybe my morning sickness and trust me, you should be glad you weren't there". You tried your best to lighten the mood a little, even if it really wasn't easy. Slowly but surely you could feel him relax. “I hope so”, he murmured before pulling your face to his and finally placing his lips on yours.

“Now tell me about the shoot”, you whispered against his lips with a big grin. While Jensen started talking about his new colleagues and the set, you made yourself comfortable in his arms and pulled the blanket a little higher.

Almost a year ago you moved in with Jensen. You previously had a pretty stressful long-distance relationship. While you were completing your studies in Seattle, Jensen was mostly in Toronto filming “The Boys”. In his free time, he often took the opportunity to spend time with his three children in Austin. Since he was always on the plane, jumping from appointment to appointment, you were usually the one who visited him. It quickly became clear that Jensen wasn't leaving Austin to move in with you, so you had no choice but to leave Seattle.

Luckily you already liked Austin and settled in very quickly.

Jensen had no plans to have any more children, and you hadn't thought about children either. But after your delayed and somewhat escalated housewarming party, contraception wasn't particularly emphasized.

The moment you finally told Jensen about the pregnancy was probably the worst moment of your life. You were so afraid to tell him that it took you forever to say the words without them being swallowed up by your sobs.

Of course, Jensen was anything but enthusiastic, after all, he already had three wonderful children and after his divorce from Danneel, he was happy to take things a little slower with you. However, it didn't take long for him to come to terms with the idea of becoming a father for the fourth time. He still had bad days every now and then where he worried it would all be too much, but overall, he did very well. And now he couldn't wait to finally hold the little munchkin in his arms.

While Jensen told you about his time on set, now in more detail than on the phone, his hand, somewhat distracted, stroked your small baby bump.

“Are you coming to the doctor’s appointment tomorrow? My doctor said we might be able to tell the gender”. Jensen continued to hold you tightly in his arms, your legs crossed over his lap and your head resting lightly on his biceps as he looked down at you.

“Of course, I’ll come”, he kissed your nose. “It’s just the three of us for the next two weeks”. His gaze moved from your eyes down to your belly.

“Is it kicking yet?”, Jensen’s eyes sparkled slightly. You'd think that after three kids he would already know it all, but unfortunately, he was on set for most of his ex-wife's two pregnancies and so wasn't as involved as he would have liked.

“Well, I definitely feel the movements, but they are hardly real kicks. In about 6 weeks you should be able to feel the kicks”, you told him as you watched his hand move in light circles over your belly.

After a while Jensen looked up again. “Being pregnant suits you”, he grinned at you, making you roll your eyes with a chuckle.

“You know how to make a woman blush”, you replied, playfully hitting his chest.

Jensen leaned down to you and pressed his lips lightly to the spot under your ear.

“I know damn well how to make a woman come too”, he whispered harshly to you.

You couldn't help but press your thighs together as a shiver ran down your spine. Despite the fact that you had been together for so long, Jensen still had a strong effect on you. "You think so?", You breathed as he started kissing your neck.

You giggled, your breath hitching slightly. You did not receive an immediate response. Instead, Jensen pulled you onto his lap in one quick movement. As you straddled his legs, he grabbed your ass somewhat roughly with both hands and pushed you closer to him. His lips slid down your neck, leaving wet kisses behind.

“It’s been far too long, sweetheart,” he murmured deeply, his breath hot against your soft skin.

While he kept one hand flat on your lower back, he slipped his other hand into your sweatpants before leaning in to kiss you.

“Actually, I imagined our reunion a little differently”, you whispered against his slightly parted lips, which only lightly touched yours. “With fancy and hot underwear, you know?”.

Jensen couldn't help but laugh lightly, but he stopped with a deep moan when he felt how wet you already were. “Shit baby, I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping”, he grinned slightly arrogant. If you weren't so incredibly turned on, you probably would have rolled your eyes. Jensen gently rubbed his fingertips over your soaked clit, making you moan immediately.

“Jensen”, you whined as he continued to tease your clit.

Your eyes were barely open, but you knew Jensen was grinning to himself. You could feel it on your lips.

“Pleaaaase,” you grabbed his thighs and leaned back further so he could get a perfect angle, despite your little baby bump.

“I´ve got you”, he grinned, slipping his middle finger inside you. A soft gasp escaped you as Jensen curled his finger and hit your sweet spot. As he added a second finger, you dug your nails into his skin. “Fuck”, you let out a throaty moan.

“You’re even tighter than usual, baby. I guess I really left you alone for too long”. Your eyes were closed as you were completely absorbed in the feeling your fiancé was giving you.

“Ugh… you did”, you agreed as your eyes met.

With a jerk he pushed your upper body closer to his again and pulled his fingers out of you. No matter how much he loved teasing you, it had been far too long since the last time he could truly feel you.

His arms wrapped tightly around you as he pressed his lips to yours again. “Shit, I missed you so much”, Jensen murmured against your lips, making your heart beat faster.

“I missed you too”, you answered barely audible.

Within seconds, Jensen laid you on your back, tugging your sweatpants and panties off your legs before kneeling on the sofa in front of you, looking at you expectantly. “Touch yourself”, he ordered before you watched as he deftly unbuckled his belt. He loved watching you, almost as much as you loved watching him.

Even though you did this a thousand times, you couldn't stop the blush from rising on your face.

Nevertheless, your fingers found their way to your wet heat as if by themselves. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you felt your own wetness. You carefully dip a finger inside yourself, making you breath heavily. By now Jensen already had his throbbing erection in his hand.

“Just like this Babygirl”, he groaned, switching his gaze between your heated face and your spread legs. Your head fell back into the soft couch cushions as you adjusted to the feeling of your finger sliding through your wet folds. Jensen tried everything to hold onto himself and watch you longer, but the desire to bury himself inside you overwhelmed him.

“Fuck it”, he muttered, freeing himself from his jeans and boxers before leaning over you and pressing his lips greedily to yours. You could already feel his hardness against your pussy when Jensen broke the kiss to take off your shirt. “Fuck, they’ve gotten huge”, he whispered as he massaged your left breast over your bra. You couldn't help but grin when you saw his lustful look. “Do you want to keep talking and teasing or finally start fucking me, Ackles?”, you challenged him, your hands sliding under his shirt and tugging at the hem impatiently.

“So needy”, he grinned down at you, pulling his shirt over his head so you could immediately run your hands over his strong chest and broad shoulders before pulling him closer to you by his biceps.

“I’m going to fuck your tight pussy so good”, he groaned, hovering over you again as he took his cock in his hand and lined himself up with your wet folds.

You shuddered as he pushed himself into you until he bottomed out, stretching you almost painfully and letting out the deepest moan you've ever heard.

"Shit honey, you´re okay?", he chuckled, but actually looked a little worried. It took a few seconds until you found your breath and therefore your voice again. "Yeah... I just... almost forgot how big you are", you admitted.

“Well, after tonight you won’t forget it in a hurry”, he winked at you with a grin.

With that, he withdrew completely and spread your wetness with his tip, sliding it between your glistening folds. Jensen's gaze was literally glued between your legs and you could see in his eyes how much that turned him on. “Jay…please,” you begged, wiggling your hips, trying so hard to get him back in. He responded instantly to your requests and pushed his swollen cock into you again, making you moan loudly. As he thrusted into you harder than he had since you were pregnant, he firmly grabbed your hips and pushed them up from the soft fabric of the couch to thrust into you from a better angle. He hit your sweet spot over and over again, which had got you close within a few minutes. “Jay… I’m…”, your hands grip his wrist as you arch your back desperately. "I know, baby. Just a few more minutes", he moaned, watching your breast bounce in your bra with every hard thrust he gave you. Your lips met again, taking the breath away from both of you. You could feel his hot breath in your mouth again and again as he tried to suppress his moans. “You’re so fucking tight, baby”, he groaned against your swollen lips.

By now you were just mumbling pleas and desperately wanted him to allow you to come.

“Cum for me (y/n)”, his lips trailed down your neck, sucking on your delicate skin. Those few words were all you needed to squeeze his cock even tighter. With loud moans and closed eyes, you finally came.

“Fuck baby”, his voice cracked as he felt you clenching around him.

Seconds later, you could feel him spilling his cum inside you as his head fell back down on your shoulder. His deep moan against your collarbone sends shivers down your spine, creating even more sparks in your stomach as you live out the rest of your orgasm.

It took you both quite a while to catch your breath, still overwhelmed by the feeling.

Jensen held his position a little longer. When you finally felt your heart stop racing, you let out a quiet chuckle, brought on by your thoughts, which you immediately said out loud. “I’m not on the pill”, you whispered, stroking strands of his soft hair while his face was still buried in the croock of your neck.

"Well, I can't knock you up any more than I already did, can I?", he grinned and slowly raised his head.

“I guess not”, you grin, pulling his face to yours and kissing him gently.

“I really missed you”, he whispered as your eyes met.

-

Part2

[erinfern0]

roommates to lovers.

kyle "gaz" garrick x gn!reader

summary: getting a roommate seems like the best idea to help you with financial problems, especially with expensive rent, bills, and all. Kyle seems like the perfect fit, maybe not just as your roomie.

warnings: just sweet fluff, maybe a tiny bit emotional.

a/n: this is the first addition to my series of trope-based COD fics, let me know if you'd like to know the full list of my ideas before I post the fics as a masterlist!! Don't mind possible mistakes, I'll fix them tomorrow. I'm just a little tipsy now, but I really wanted to post this already!!

Barely getting ends to meet, you search the internet for possibilities of making your situation better. That's how you get the idea — finding yourself a roommate might at least help your financial issues a bit. You find some groups and chats for people looking for places to stay, and you stumble upon Kyle. A guy who knows it's better to share an apartment since most of the time he's away on deployment, so it's way cheaper than buying one for himself. Looking through his application, you found him interesting, to say the least.

Young sergeant, a gym rat who likes to cook and doesn't mind taking over all the chores whenever he's back. He doesn't listen to music loudly, likes his place clean and tidy, and seems charismatic. A perfect fit for you — who would get too stressed out if you had to see him every day. But he's home for a couple of days and leaves for deployment, so you don't need to worry that much.

Soon, he moved in with you, and you immediately felt a slight spark between you. You spend so much time together, that you seem to forget how life went without him beside you. Every time you accidentally brush against him in the hallway or in the kitchen, you feel that warm electricity. You start liking him and feel upset since in a few days he'll be gone again.

For the past months, your friends have been teasing you about your 'strange' relationship. How protective and caring he was of you, how you always had to touch each other in some sort of way. They've been mentioning how oblivious you two were and how you're practically a couple already, but you'd just ignore them.

It was only now that you felt they might have been right all along. Just a roommate, a friend at best wouldn't miss him as much as you did and you missed him way more than you thought this time. Getting a message from him didn't help you at all. A simple text, just after midnight, almost made you cry.

Gyle Karrick: It will take longer than expected. Three months, they say. Can't wait to see you again, xoxo

And fuck, you couldn't wait to see him, too.

Weeks passed on numerous phone calls whenever you could get a hold of him through his busy schedule. Lonely meals, mundane chores, and even your passions started to bore you to your limits. One of the few things you were looking forward to was his message. But day after day, you'd experience the same disappointment and worry.

That was until one day you were looking through selfies you took together or pictures of him while he was asleep on the couch while watching a movie. Adorable. Oh, you missed him. Later on that day, you sat in the living room, reading through your notes and textbooks to occupy your mind, as you heard someone try to open the door with their key.

It was late, you thought. That it's just your mind playing tricks on you, but no. Seconds later, he's inside the apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible as he thinks you should be sleeping. He sees the lights are on and freezes, unsure how to act. But as soon as you stand up from the couch, he drops the duffle bag he was holding, catching you as you run into his arms.

Unspoken greetings and a warm and tight hug almost made you two fall to the floor. But none of you seem to care, too occupied with hands wrapping around each other's bodies. Kyle looks into your eyes as you lean back, his gaze is so soft, so sweet, you seem to melt with the brown of them.

You're not sure when, but you lean forward, lips catching his. It's quick, he barely registers it. You want to apologize, feeling the warmth of your cheeks, the dizziness in your head. But he comes right back, kissing you again. This time, it's slow and sweet, just as you imagined him to be all those nights when he was away. You reach to his neck, wrapping your arms around it as he cups your face, pulling you closer.

“You're home,” you whisper breathlessly as soon as you pull away, your eyes meeting his lazily. The happiness of your voice makes him chuckle and point out how it was just a couple of months.

He, the sergeant with god-like attractiveness, bright mind, and silly humor, felt the same way you did. Kyle reminded himself of all the lonely nights he spent on deployment, imagining coming back to your shared apartment to see your gorgeous face again, to hear that sweet laugh, and to just enjoy the warmth of your body against his.

None of you expected the kiss or the butterflies flying around in your stomachs that came afterward, but it was more than perfect. His hand gently caressed the single tear that was running down your face and kissed the spot right after.

“You're my home.”

masterlist | request info

[elzdaizy]

Trouble After Paradise (Part 1)

Warnings: lots of angst, conflict, explicit language.

Summary of short story: Reader and Harry have returned from their honeymoon to a harsh reality and their first huge hurdle as a married couple.

A/N: This is 1 of 3 parts. Enjoy! Just a little short story idea i had and wanted to share with you all.

It’s been four weeks since you returned home from your honeymoon in Costa Rica and you’ve found yourself reminiscing constantly on that magical holiday.

To say the least, things have took a turn for the worst since you and Harry got home.

You were bombarded with mountains of piles of work to get through because there was no one to fill your position whilst you’d taken the month off leading up to your wedding, including the honeymoon.

Harry had started filming his next movie, one that was mentally draining due to his character being a very unwell mental patient at a psychiatric hospital.

You worked from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon in the office but always brought home some work to do which kept you busy until about eight at night when you’d get into bed.

Weekends were exhausting as well, you were catching up with friends and family after basically being off the grid throughout the week.

Harry’s shooting location, thankfully, was only a few hours away up north in Manchester so he managed to be home often between breaks but unfortunately meant that he wasn’t home with you for periods of times.

He tries his best to be at home with you on the weekends but his schedule doesn’t work that way all the time. On average you probably see each other a total of two days out of the week and it’s been this way the past four weeks.

You’ve both been so busy, you’ve barely had the time to live life together as a married couple. There’s a tension building full of stress and exhaustion on both ends of your marriage. You find yourselves bickering when you’re together and getting on each other’s nerves more than ever before.

You know it’s because you’re equally annoyed with yourselves and each other with the current situation.

It’s 8pm on a Friday night and Harry called you earlier that morning to let you know he’s coming home today at around 6:30pm and will be able to stay the full week until he’s off again. He asked for you to pick him up from the station because he had booked a meal at The Ivy for 8pm. You of course said yes. You were so excited to hear the news, you felt tears well up in your eyes. “I really can’t wait, I miss you so much.” You replied before you both said your goodbyes and I love you’s before hanging up.

What you didn’t know was that working would be busier than ever that Friday and now you’re still in the office trying to hurry up and finish off one last piece of paper work to be sent off to your client before the weekend. Your phone had died two hours ago and Harry hadn’t contacted you before it died so you weren’t too concerned that he would’ve tried to since then.

You could cry out of frustration. You purposely stayed back to get all this extra work done so you could book off Monday and Tuesday to extend your weekend to spend some time with your husband.

Half an hour later, you finally send the email and pack up your stuff. You race to your car and make your way home. The door is unlocked when you go to turn the key and your heart skips a beat when you realise that Harry must be home.

The lights are all off downstairs which is odd so you make your way upstairs to your bedroom to find Harry sat on the edge of the bed in just his underwear and his phone in his hands.

“Hi, baby.” You softly speak up as you walk through the door and put your bag and coat over the chair in the corner of the room.

Harry glances at you over his shoulder briefly without so much as a tiny acknowledgment of your presence before looking back to his phone.

You frown, thinking his behaviour seems a bit off. The energy in the room seems low and you can sense he’s not in a good mood.

You walk over to him, a hand on his shoulder and the other hand reaching to lift his head by tilting his chin in your direction for him to look up at you. As soon as you try to lean forward to place a kiss to his lips he yanks his head away from your touch and rolls his eyes, letting out a huff.

You step back, very offended and extremely hurt by his cold actions.

“Fuck you, then.” You throw your hands up and storm away to head downstairs to the kitchen. You’re literally trying so hard not to break down and cry right now so you’re pacing around your kitchen, breathing heavily for a few moments then deciding to pour yourself a large glass of wine.

You almost down the first glass. The second one being poured less than five minutes later. You’re just stood by your kitchen island with a glass of wine in one hand and thoughts racing around your mind as you try to figure out why your husband seems to despise you at the moment.

You soon realise it could possibly be the fact that your phone was dead and maybe he was trying to get ahold of you.

You start to feel a pit of guilt in your stomach when you take your phone from your pocket and plug it into the charger point next to your toaster.

You finish your second glass of wine once your phone switches on and your eyes widen when you notice the ten missed calls and five unread messages from Harry.

You read the texts carefully one at a time.

From Harry:

6:09pm - l’m fifteen minutes away from the station if you want to set off now. Love you. Xx

6:30pm - Where are you? I’m waiting near the security box until you’re here. Xx

6:53pm - I’ve rung you five times and you’re not answering so I’m making my own way home now.

7:26pm - Why aren’t you answering and why aren’t you at home? You do realise we have to be at The Ivy in half an hour.

8:03pm - cancelled the booking. If you read this before you come home - don’t bother me when you get in, I can’t be arsed with this tonight.

You heart feels like it’s going to stop. You have never felt more terrible in your life. You feel like a punch to the gut is what you deserve right now and nothing less. And to think, you literally just spat in his face and said fuck you to him, still not realising what you’d done.

You were so fixated on wanting to spend the week with Harry that you’d completely forgotten about picking him up and going out for dinner tonight.

You were a little drunk and very upset with yourself so of course the only thing currently you did was start to cry. You sat on a stool at your island, lent your elbows on the countertop, put your face in your hands and sobbed. Sobbed for your husband and how upset he must be feeling. Sobbed at the realisation of how much you hurt him and let him down. You felt like a failure.

After about thirty minutes of letting your feelings flow out of your system uncontrollably, you composed yourself and prepared yourself to go and apologise profusely. You’d gone over what to say in your head a million times and nothing sounded good enough but you know the least he deserves is an apology rather than an explanation or excuse right now.

Your face is puffy and red from the crying as you shakily walk up the stairs to your room and find Harry is now laying under the covers with the tv on, watching a movie with a deep frown on his face. As if he’s in deep thought rather than paying attention to the screen.

You push the door open gently and let yourself in. Basically walking with your tail between your legs, you can barely look at him as you sit on the bottom corner of the bed on your side. You couldn’t be further away from him on the bed if you tried.

“Harry, I’m so sorry.” You croak. Lips quivering as you fight the urge to break down crying again. You finally look at him after your first attempt at the beginning of a long apology. He’s ignoring you. Keeping his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed over his chest.

You decide to keep speaking, “I completely understand why you’re angry and I don’t want to give myself any excuses for-.”

He reaches for the remote and turns up the volume to drown out your voice.

You let out a shaky sigh. A tear slipping down your cheek. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose- look, can you please just say something?” You beg pathetically and Harry’s head turns as his eyes look at you with anger.

“Told you I can’t be fucked with this tonight just leave me alone, please.” He sighs in annoyance before completely turning his back to you as he lays on his side.

You really don’t know what to say now. You didn’t expect this reaction from him. He’s never been this angry with you before and it’s terrifying you slightly because you really can’t cope with it. You don’t even care if he shouts at this point, you just want more of a reaction from him.

He has every right to feel the way he does, you know that. You hate going to sleep on bad terms though. You both agreed to always resolve conflicts before getting into bed because you never wanted to be that couple that gets into fights and makes one or the other sleep on the sofa.

It seems like it’s going to be that way tonight though. You don’t want to say another word because you don’t want to make it worse. Even though you know you won’t get much sleep, you decide to go sleep downstairs on the couch. You could go sleep in the spare room but you need a tv to distract you from your racing thoughts so the living room it is.

You get up from the bed, go take a quick shower and change into your pyjamas before grabbing your pillow from your side of the bed and walking towards the door.

“Goodnight, Harry. I love you.” You say to him softly before closing the door behind yourself and making your way downstairs.

You turn on a shitty reality show to fall asleep too. It takes a few hours but eventually you drift off.

The next morning you’re awoken by the sound of the blender rattling off in the kitchen. You feel at peace for a split second as your groggy memory clears up as your consciousness comes back, along with the awful events of last night. You grimace start yourself as you sit up on the couch and turn around to see Harry standing in the kitchen, making himself a smoothie, dressed in his running gear.

It mustn’t be any later than 6am because he only likes going running at the crack of dawn. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet but you know he’s still fuming by the look on his face.

Now that you’re not intoxicated and knowing it’s a new day, you’re determined to resolve this issue very soon. You don’t want to waste any more of the short time you two have together for the next four days being bitter.

You get up from the couch and stretch before walking over to the kitchen island and taking a seat on the stool you were sobbing on last night.

“Morning.” You say with a tired voice as Harry still hasn’t acknowledged you whilst he’s cleaning up some dishes. You’re both facing each other on opposite sides of the island.

Harry looks up at you frowning and doesn’t reply so you take it as your queue to go in strong with all guns blazing.

“Can we please talk about this now?” You plead. Harry just deadpans and looks at you with a look that tells you no as he picks up his AirPods and puts them in as he makes his way to the door to go on his run.

“What the actual fuck! This is an actual fucking nightmare.” You frustratingly shout to no one but yourself after Harry closes the door on his way out.

[btsarmymoonmoon]

Loved you from afar

Yoongi fluff that was in my head for a good few weeks. Inspired by my friend Taeyi. Shy Yoongi, non idol style. 4k words. No warnings. I hope it will make you feel warm and fluffy and head over heels for this Yoon. (didn't read it or spell checked sowwi)

‘I’m here!’ – you waived at the man walking down the mall along the shops towards you. He was holding two cups of coffee to go and a small bag which looked like the kind you would get from a pastry shop. He walked past few other people on the way and made his way to you. He was wearing a pair of shorts and long dark oversized t-shirt, high top converse with white socks sticking out. He smiled widely when he saw you waive. ‘The queue was crazy, I’m really sorry it took so long’ he muttered and handed you the drink. ‘It’s okay Yoongi, I told you it’s mental around this time of the day’ you smiled grateful he went to get a lunch for the two of you. ‘Let me just let my boss I’m going on a break’ you pointed at the inside of the clothing shop you were both standing in front and you disappeared inside for few moments, still holding your coffee. Yoongi nervously looked around, trying to find something to look at whilst wating for you and he decided to just stare at his own shoes. You came back not long after, poked your head around the corner to see your friend just staring down. It wasn’t anything new to you, as he tend to be a little bit awkward in public. ‘All sorted, ready?’ you surprised him and he glanced at you, smiled and nodded.

Right outside of the mall on the left hand side was small park-ish area. Few swings for kids and benches for the parents. But it was all empty because it looked like everyone disappeared for lunch. The both of you moved towards the area, picked the cleanest bench and sat on it. It was getting colder as the autumn was approaching soon. The sun was still quite high, it just wasn’t giving the same warmth as two weeks ago. You have taken a sip of your drink and closed your eyes, listening to the silence surrounding the two of you.

‘Taehyung wanted to go to the movies later today’ Yoongi muttered kind of towards you but kind of just in to the universe.

‘Oh really? What are you going see?’ you got interested right away. You knew Yoongi for years now. It’s been at least 8, maybe coming to be 9 soon? You became friends at school, then you graduated and still were hanging out, both got few part time jobs across the time of few years. You also managed to hold an serious adult office job for about three months before you decided to get a degree part time, which you also decided to abandon few weeks in. It was too stressful and all you wanted to do is draw. You were really good at it, so you opened a small business on the side selling your digital prints and art you drew on your tablet. But it wasn’t enough to keep you going, hence the part time job at the mall.

Yoongi always wanted to make music and he was on the side. He was definitely making enough now to not work part time but for some reason when he found out you will be working in the same mall as him (before he decided to quit) he changed his mind and decided to stay. You never really questioned his decisions. During your summer breaks you spent hours together locked in one of your rooms, him making music at the desk and you drawing on your tablet. The perfect combination. Both the artsy types, both quite shy and timid. Not all the time tough, there were multiple crazy stories you could tell your friends. One of the more memorable one was when the two of you got really drunk after work and you sat in a shopping trolley which he was pushing, whilst on his skateboard. Both laughing like two crazy teenagers until the security got rid of you. Yoongi was shy. Very shy. But he was also so warm. He would always cover your with a blanket when you fell asleep and he continued working on his stuff. Would always bring you hot soup when you were ill. Lunch at work was always a must. He really cared. He was also the type to never admit if he ever had feelings for you. If he did, he treasured your friendship more. He could always be around you and catch you when you fall, without ever risking and jeopardising your current relationship. He could love you from afar. Of course he spent nights thinking if your lips would be soft on his, or what would it be like to hold your hand for real, not just for a second when you were wrestling on the bed. What would it be like for you to fall asleep on his shoulder, when you actually intended to put your head there, not just by accident when he was near by and you were to tired to sit straight. His stomach flipped every time you mentioned a date with someone. He was terrified of someone else having you, at the same time he would never stop you. And he was always there when you were broken up with by another guy who didn’t know what he could have. He watched all the silly films with you and devoured half of the tub of ice cream you always liked. He was always the one to peel a tangerine for you, or an orange when they were around. Without asking if you fancy one, he would just do it and hand it over to you.

‘I’m not sure but he wanted me to bring you with. He said he invited the new girl he was seeing and he wanted it to be little bit less official than a date’ Yoongi answered, slightly worried you might get the wrong idea about the entire thing. But it wasn’t the first time you would go to the movies as his +1. Anytime one of his friends needed a double date you two were the go to. Even though you obviously weren’t dating. Obviously to you, not so obviously to Yoongi. Well it was obvious enough but it started getting to him the more he thought on how long you two have been hanging out for. Nearly 9 years. He was a loyal friend, he was a loyal friend to his other friends too it was just the way he was. He brushed through his long dark hair, overgrown from the summer. He looked at you, nervous as always even though he asked you the same question multiple times before.

‘So WE are going? I didn’t really want to go out tonight but..’ you started, desperately trying to get your pastry out of the paper bag that was laying between you and him on the bench.

‘If you don’t want to I will tell him you had other plans’ he quickly jumped to conclusion. He would never want you to do anything that you weren’t comfortable doing.

‘No, no it’s fine. We can go’ you smiled seeing him getting flustered. He held the bag steady for you and you finally managed to get your piece out of the bag. You grabbed the pastry and bit into it right away. Sweet cream and jam inside filled your mouth and you felt better. Less dizzy and shaky. You didn’t have anything else this morning and Yoongi knew it. Because when you asked for lunch you asked for coffee only and he brought food. He knew you too well and he was sure you didn’t have anything else that day.

‘Are you sure? I can go on my own..’ he asked looking at your pretty face devouring the pastry he picked for you. He admired every second of every time spent with you. Your eyes wondering around the sky, which he dreamed of staring for hours at the time.

‘Yes it’s fine, let’s do it. What film?’ you looked at him again, in between bites.

‘I didn’t really ask, let me text him’ he got a little bit nervous, of course he forgot to ask Taehyung about the film, at the end of the day he didn’t really care. He knew he would have a good time because it was with you. ‘Anyway, I will pick you up at 7? I will take my mums car’.

‘Sounds good! And don’t worry we haven’t seen any of the new films anyway, so whatever Tae picked will be fine’. He loved how unproblematic you were. How easy it was for you to just go with the flow. It was easy for you because you knew that it was always a good time with Yoongi. You knew nothing bad will ever happen to you around him. He would always protect you and take care of you. And you loved it about him so much, but you could never admit it. How could you ruin a friendship like this? He was older so in your head he was always treating you like a younger sister. The age gap wasn’t that big, you met at school at the end of the day.

You picked a really flowy dress, the evenings weren’t super cold. Short green platted dress with a cream cardigan because it was an evening and the dress was on thin straps you were bound to get cold and you promised yourself you won’t get Yoongi to give up his hoodie yet another time for you. You put few bits in your bag, lip balm, pack of tissues, your wallet and your keys and you run out seeing Yoongi approaching in his mums car. You got in and he got immediately flashed with your scent. Sweet but light floral perfume that you have been using for as long as he remembers. Your hair half up, with the rest flowing down your shoulders. He got stunned. He couldn’t say anything, there was no thoughts in your brain apart from just how beautiful you looked that night.

‘Yoongi? Hello?’ you waved your hands in front of his eyes and he finally shook his head and came back to his senses.

‘Pull yourself together’ he whispered to himself and you heard him say something but you couldn’t make up any of the words.

‘What? Are you okay?’ you asked, but then he looked back at you, smiled and nodded.

‘Ready? You look great’ he complimented. He always said it. No matter what were you wearing and it was true. He loved you in every outfit. No. He was miserable about you in every outfit. Including his hoodie and joggers when you both got soaked that one night running home from the shop. You were perfect to him in everything you wore. Oh how miserable he was about you. And recently it has been becoming more and more impossible to hide it. He would stutter when you would approach him without a notice or he would get stunned just like just did in the car.

‘Let’s go!’ you said enthusiastically and put your hand into a fist and made a really awkward ‘lets’ gesture. He didn’t say a word the entire time to the cinema. Not a word. The music was playing in the background, nothing too crazy, nothing too loud. He was always quiet but he was acting really strange this time. Almost too strange. And when you started thinking about it, he did become different recently. He was more distant, quieter. He wouldn’t come around as much after work anymore. Is he dating someone? Was your first thought but then you declined that idea since he invited you to go and pretend to be double dating with Tae tonight. Surely he would of invited his real date if he had one.

Anyways you made it to the car park behind the cinema, walked inside and stood there for a while trying to localise Taehyung. But he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Not yet anyway.

‘Is he late? Are they late? I mean it’s nothing new for him, but isn’t the film about to start?’ you asked and looked at Yoongi as he was taking his phone out. You watched him text Tae for the 5th time in the span of 20 minutes as you were waiting for him. You turned around and looked at the popcorn machine and went towards it to get some for you and Yoongi. In that time Taehyung sent a message back to Yoongi ‘We are not coming. I will explain later’ is what the messaged said. You came back to him with a giant bucket of popcorn with a smile on your face excited to devour it during the film.

‘Well they are not coming apparently. Do you still want to go and see the film?’ Yoongi locked his phone and put it into his pocket. You looked at the popcorn in your hands and pouted at first because the idea to miss out on all of that crunchy deliciousness made you a little sad.

‘Do you?’ you asked quickly, still staring at the food.

‘Sure why not, we are already here and we got the tickets’ he nodded and took the bucket away from you. It was always like that with him around. You never had to carry anything, you never even have to ask. You never had to ask about the hoodie when you were shivering either. He just knew. He did a little bit excited for the idea of just the two of you in the cinema. All on your own. Last time you both went was few years ago and he was really nervous to just be alone in a dark room like that with you. Even though you spent hours overnight in each others houses. But the cinema was always a strange place that just gave him this one particular feeling. A feeling of a date.

You found the screening room and went inside. The ads have already started as you were waiting for Tae and his date for a while. Yoongi found your seats and lead you to it. There wasn’t a lot of people around anyway, not many people chose to come in on a weekday after all.

The film started uneventful, it was supposed to be a thriller but it doesn’t seem very thrilling at first anyway. You were slowly going through your bucket of popcorn when a huge jaw came out of you. You hid your face in your hands quickly with an apologetic look on your face, staring at Yoongi. He giggled as it made him laugh. The film wasn’t very good and he clearly could tell that you were getting bored too. But you both decided to give it another try and started paying attention again. The film did get better. The story moved at a more faster pace and when a random guy popped out of a rubbish bin with a knife you jumped on your seat and your handed intuitively landed on Yoongis. He looked at your hands and froze for a second. You were now holding his hand. Well he was holding your hand. You were holding hands. He gasped without you noticing but he didn’t pull away. He promised himself to distance from you. Give you space to breathe because even he could notice the way he was behaving around you recently. But today, the smell of you in his car, the green dress and the fact that Tae stood you two up made a potion of courage for him. He decided to just go with the flow. It wasn’t like him at all. But he kept wondering what would it be like to hold your hand, and how would you lips fit in his.

You noticed he was looking at your hands but you didn’t pull away either. You didn’t let him see that you saw him looking. What a huge game is being played here. Pretending to not see each other movements or delicate stares. You smirked to yourself and decided to pretend this is not a big deal. It’s just a hand right? And then another strange thing happened and the film and you squeezed his hand. And all of a sudden he just let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around you. You froze. Yoongi? What the hell is this? He wasn’t looking at you, he just did this and went back to watching the film. But you couldn’t focus anymore, his fresh scent surrounded you. Just like every time you worse his hoodie. It felt so homey and fresh. His warm arm around you. You not moving an inch. You gulped. What is going on? You thought to yourself. He was never like this. He was never this brave nor forward. But it felt so nice. You didn’t know what to do next. You were so conflicted already overthinking scenarios in your head. What if we won’t like each other like that for very long? What if he will get bored of me? What if…

He saw you having an internal conversation with yourself. He knew you too well and seen it too many times. He wasn’t sure what it was about but he  could tell you stopped focusing on the film. Did I fuck up? He thought to himself but he didn’t move an inch. He looked at you again and he saw two round eyes staring right at you. There was nothing else around for him just the pair of your eyes looking at him. He exhaled loudly and looked a way for a second. Brushed his hand through his overgrown long dark hair and looked back at you.

And there you were, still staring at him trying to read what was going on in his head. Trying to understand what was going on between the two of you just then and there.

‘Fuck it’ he said very loudly and leaned forward. Where did Yoongi found all of his courage to do all of this neither of you will ever know nor question. Because his nose was touching yours now, his eyes closed and his lips touching yours. And the both of you froze for a second. You didn’t back out but you didn’t kiss him back right away. You were trying to understand the motive behind his arm wrapped around you not beg for a kiss but he clearly read you wrong. Well wrong wasn’t the correct word. He understood you differently. And now his lips were at yours. Your stomach flipped and it felt like 10 thousand butterflies just hatched inside you and try to escape. You could tell he was nervous because his arm that was still wrapped around you was getting a little shaky and heavy. Without thinking too much anymore you started kissing him back and a slow and soft kiss turned into a slightly deeper one and he started grabbing you closer with the wrapped around you arm. You cupped his face with your hand and reciprocated every inch of his kiss. It felt like the both of you were floating above the seats now and nothing else really mattered anymore. The semi good film, the popcorn you had your eyes on for most of the duration of the film.

He finally had the guts to go for it. He didn’t know when was the next time be, that it will be just the two of you in the cinema which for some reason he had really strong feelings about. It couldn’t be in the car. It also couldn’t be anywhere else. You kept making out until the film finished, without noticing and the lights turned on. Only then Yoongi realised that the film has finished and he let go of you and sat back in his seat. He didn’t say anything, he just smirked and then smiled with one of his gummy smiles to himself.

You got off your chair and looked at him for a second, really shy and flushed face. You were blushing, now that it wasn’t dark around the two of you. He followed, grabbed the rest of the popcorn bucket and took it with him to leave at the bin downstairs. Both of you silent just moved towards the exist and then towards the exist of the building and straight to Yoongi mums car. No word, not a look not a sight was heard. The silence was deafening and it almost felt like either of you regretted what just happened. Yoongi couldn’t stop overthinking it. He was sure he fucked up. For once he had the guts to act the way he really felt and it all ruined your really long friendship. He just wanted to get you safe home and disappear for few days, give you time to breathe.

‘So…’ you finally opened your mouth as the both of you were standing in front of the car.

‘So..’ he answered looking away from you. Both of his hands in his pockets, playing with his shoe shyly. ‘Listen I know this wasn’t planned..’ he started again. He didn’t have a plan. Again. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. All he wanted to do is to lean you over the car and kiss you again and again. But you were still blushing and looking away from him just now.

‘It’s okay if you regret it’ you interrupted him right away. If? That sounded like you weren’t regretting it. He looked at you for the first time since you left the cinema. You were standing in front of him, pink nose from the wind outside, red cheeks and glary round eyes drilling into him.

‘I don’t..’ he braved it out of himself. He took a step towards you and you froze again. You turned your head to the side almost like asking a question and he took one of his hands out of the pockets of his hoodie and leaned forward towards you. ‘Come here’ he whispered and you took his hand. He pulled you closer and leaned you on the car door. Took few steps towards you, the tip of his nose touching yours. He bit his lip and then looked into your eyes. You gulped so loudly he could hear. You closed your eyes before he closed his and he smirked and shook his head. Your insides flipped, the butterflies hatched in the second wave and started flustering inside you. You bit the inside of your mouth and patiently waited. But nothing happened. He was just there looking at you with your eyes closed. So you opened one of it and you saw him smiling. Gummy wide smile, eyes in half moons. Pure happiness and you have never seen him like this. ‘If I kiss you again, that will be it you know it?’ he finally managed to get few words out. ‘You will be mine and I won’t let you go’ he added before you had a chance to respond. And you nodded. That’s all you could do. Just nod. So he came closer and this time the both of you closed your eyes at the same time and his lips met yours again. It felt so right, it felt like this is what you have been waiting for, for years. Tears started rolling down your face as he kept kissing you more and more. And then he felt the tears and stopped.

‘Why.. why are you crying? Do you not want to?’ he got instantly worried and regretted being so confident in himself but you shook your head.

‘I didn’t know this was what I was waiting for, for all these years’ you answered and pulled him back to you. His head was spinning. You were his. He was holding you in his arms. He was kissing your lips. Finally. All the worries he always had stopped him from doing this went away. Maybe tomorrow he will think about it and worry about the future but for now. Now he had you and you were his.

‘I loved you from afar for years’ he didn’t think through what he was about to say. Today was the day he was just saying and doing everything he felt like was right. But you didn’t answer, just pulled him closer to you and hid your face in his arms. He hugged you so tight and wrapped his arms around you. And you felt safe. Like there was nothing else in the world that could hurt you. His pocket buzzed and he pulled out his phone to see a message from Taehyung.

'I hope you enjoyed ;)' . The both of you looked at the message and then saw Taehyung in a car parked opposite of you waving and showing his thumbs up.