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asahicore · 1 year ago

Text

stupid in love - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. One night early on in your summer vacation, your best friend Sunghoon admits that his biggest anxiety about starting college is going there as a virgin - one thing leads to another, and you end up learning a few things from each other. The more time passes, the more obvious it becomes that your feelings for each other surpass friendship, but with the end of summer looming over your heads, it's hard to tell where these newfound emotions will lead you.

genre. best friends/childhood friends 2 lovers, summer au, lots of fluff and smut but also some angst to spice things up, when i say smut i mean LOTS of smut. like mostly smut lol (mutual first time, ice play, crazy stuff)

word count. 22.1k

a/n. bringing this one back from the pits of my google docs guys.. its been so long since i've posted anything and im not sure when the new hoon fic will be ready so i thought i'd repost an og asahicore fic!!! the title was originally 'hot like ice' but i changed it bc this is my blog and i do what i want <3 i'd also like to say that in terms of plot this is probably not something i would write nowadays, it's very smut-heavy and thats not what im about now idk i was crazy back then... but i rmb being happy w this fic and its reception when i first posted it so i'm happy to have it back on my blog and hope u guys will like it too <3 as always lmk what u think!!

It all started with a lollipop. Well, two, to be exact. One strawberry-flavored, one apple-flavored.

You stand in front of your friend, lollipops in hand. “Which one do you want, Hoon?”

“I don’t mind, just pick whichever one you like best,” he replies absent-mindedly, eyes on the TV as he tries to find a suitable movie for this late summer afternoon.

You plop down on the couch next to him and look at the two lollipops in your hands, unable to decide which flavor you like better. “I don’t know what I feel like right now,” you announce to an uninterested Sunghoon. “I’ll just try both.”

That seems to catch your best friend’s attention. He watches as you unwrap both candies, tasting each once, twice, then as you decide you want the apple-flavored lollipop and hand him the strawberry-flavored one. He doesn’t take his eyes off of your lips as you wrap them and swirl your tongue around the candy, letting its sweetness wash over your taste buds. You raise your eyebrows when you notice his staring and he blinks a couple times, trying to snap himself out of it. “Did you want the other one?” you ask, confused by his behavior.

“N-no, I like strawberry,” he stammers, turning his gaze back to the screen in front of you and settling for ‘When Harry Met Sally,’ a movie you’ve both seen a thousand times but never get bored of.

You’re used to Sunghoon getting lost in his thoughts, so you don’t question it much. You sit back on the couch, your knee touching his. You two are no strangers to a little skinship - after being friends for almost eight years, physical contact comes naturally. You have to admit that recently, it’s started to feel different; but the idea of your friendship changing tugs at your heartstrings so much that you ignore the prickles on your skin when he hugs you or the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you, dimples and sharp canines on display. You tell yourself it’s all stupid and that you can handle so much as your knees touching.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, can't. The lollipop in his mouth right now was in yours mere moments ago and you’d given it to him like sharing saliva was no big deal. He feels like a thirteen year-old for thinking like this, but this was pretty much an indirect kiss.

He stares at the TV screen, but all he can see are your perfect lips sucking that lollipop, and his mind is desperately not trying to go there, but he just cannot help himself. Blood rushes to his dick as he pictures your mouth around him, sucking him off with as much enthusiasm as you are the lollipop. Would you like his taste? Would you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, smiling even with his dick stuffed in your mouth?

His own thoughts catch him off guard, and before they can get any wilder, he runs off to the bathroom, knowing he’d never live it down if you caught a glimpse of his erection. Thankfully, you don’t, and you call after him, asking if he wants you to pause the movie, to which he shouts back a strangled ‘no.’

He comes back ten minutes later, face flushed and breath heavy. “Goddamn, Hoon, I know we’re best friends, but if you’re going to dump a massive load, I wished you did it in your own bathroom and not mine,” you tease him, laughing as his face gets even redder and he opens his mouth to protest.

“I was just on my phone!” he replies, mildly offended.

“Whatever,” you say, still laughing, and turn your attention back to the movie.

Well. Sunghoon would rather have you think he just took a huge shit than have you know he came to the idea of you sucking him off and swallowing every last drop of his cum.

A few days later, you and Sunghoon are lying on his bed, the both of you on your backs, talking about this and that as you often do. It’s almost 3 a.m., and it feels almost rebellious, being up this late after months of waking up at 6, but your high school graduation was a week ago and you feel like you can do anything. The dim fairy lights you forced him to put up and the bright moon outside are the only sources of light in the room, and when you turn to look at him, you can just make out the outline of his face, the curve of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw. You've looked at him a thousand times before, so your memory makes up for what the light takes away from your eyes. You shift to lying on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can take a better look at your friend. Something about the moonlight makes him look ethereal, and his beauty makes your heart skip a beat, but you’d never admit that to him. Out of habit, you reach out to touch his moles, gently placing your middle finger on his nose and your pointer finger on his cheek. Sunghoon closes his eyes at your touch, used to the warm feeling that settles in his stomach whenever you do that.

“Y/N?” he calls out, just as you pull your fingers away from his moles.

“Yeah?”

He opens his eyes again, meeting yours. “Is there anything you’re scared of for next year? You know, heading off to college and all that?” You shift again and lie on your back, the sides of your two bodies touching. You stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking about his question, and Sunghoon patiently waits for your answer.

“I’m scared about not making friends. I’m not the least outgoing person ever, but it’s so intimidating, not knowing anyone. And it’ll be weird not having you around. Shut up,” you warn before he can make an egotistical remark, so he just chuckles. “I’m also worried about the amount of work I’ll have. I’ve heard so many times that it’s a huge step-up from high school, the workload and the type of work and all that. What if I don’t even like the degree that I chose? I know I can change it, but it still stresses me out. Turning 18 doesn’t feel like a huge deal, but going to college does. It’s when all the responsibility hits. My mom told me to make my own doctor’s appointment the other day, and I almost cried when I had to call them. I’m not gonna have anyone to do my groceries for me. I’m scared I might get an awful roommate. I hate the idea of communal showers. I don’t even know what I want to do after college, and I know I have four years to make up my mind, but I’m scared those four years are gonna flash by and I’ll be indebted and unemployed by the end of it.” You pause to take a breath, and you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes on the sides of your face, but he doesn’t say anything. “Also, I heard that you put on a lot of weight during your freshman year.”

You turn to look at him to find him smiling at you. “Wow. That’s a lot.”

The two of you giggle, eyes not leaving the other’s. After a moment, you turn your gaze back to the ceiling and sigh. “Yeah, I know. But I’m more excited than I am scared. What about you?”

Sunghoon follows your gaze and looks up above him. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and when he finally speaks up, he says it so quietly, you almost don’t hear it. “I’m scared of going to college a virgin.”

You try to stay serious for a few seconds, but you can’t keep your laughter in and snort loudly at your friend’s words, laughing so hard your stomach starts to hurt.

“Don’t make fun of me!” he whines, hands coming up to cover his face.

It takes you a while to calm down; not only was Sunghoon’s statement ridiculous, it was so unexpected that you couldn’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you apologize, catching your breath. “I just can’t believe that that’s what you’re scared of, of all things.”

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable concern,” he defends himself.

“Nobody’s gonna care if you’re a virgin, Hoon,” you try to reason with him, but if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn.

“I’m gonna care! What if I like a girl but I can’t bring myself to make a move on her ‘cause I have no experience?”

“But Hoon, chances are she doesn’t have a lot more experience than you do! She’ll be the same age we are, dummy. We’re not sixteen year-olds jumping into a world of twenty year-olds. Sure, some people have their first time in high school, but a lot do it at university. You’ll be fine,” you reassure. His furrowed eyebrows and pout tell you he’s not fully convinced, though.

“Oh, c’mon! If you really want to lose your virginity before leaving, we can get you laid during the summer. I’m sure we can find a girl nice enough,” you tease, jokingly patting his bicep, trying not to make a note of how firm the skin feels under your hand.

Sunghoon sighs, and you can tell he’s actually taking this seriously. “I’m not that desperate that I’d have sex with the first girl that agrees, you know. I’d still rather do it with someone…” He glances at you for just a second. “Someone I trust.”

You feel your face heat up at the possible meaning behind his words, so you look away, not wanting him to see the effect they had on you. He changes his position on the bed, and now it’s his turn to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at you.

“What about you, Y/N? Don’t you think it’d be good to get a bit of experience before going off to college? It’ll be one less thing to stress about,” he says, a small smirk playing on his lips, and his shy demeanor from moments prior is completely gone. Out of fear that his ego would get even bigger, you'd never tell him, but you love it when he gets like that - when he thinks he’s the shit and teases you mercilessly. You know he does it lightheartedly, and it never fails to bring a smile to your face.

Except right now it does. You’re not smiling, far from it; you’re looking up at your best friend, mouth slightly agape and wide eyes searching for a sign that he may be just joking. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and your reaction is to scoff at him.

“Do I need to remind you that you’re the reason I have no experience to begin with, Park Sunghoon?” you ask, sitting up on the bed to peer down at him. He shifts again and lays on his back, his hands coming up behind his head as he beams at you.

“Am I really?”

You wish you could slap that shit-eating grin off of his face. This is not the first time you're having this conversation. “Yes, Hoon. Every time a guy was even remotely interested in me, you chased them away. I’m still not over you telling Kang Taehyun I have smelly feet! I had a huge crush on that guy!”

Sunghoon loudly laughs at the memory, and you curse yourself for cracking a smile when you see his face scrunched in laughter. “That was in Year 5, Y/N! It’s been years!”

You grab a pillow and throw it at his head, unable to not laugh along with him. “What about Bang Yedam, then? That was only last year, and you totally ruined my chances with him!”

“Listen, if you having a creepy doll collection is enough to make him not ask you out, then he must not have liked you that much.”

“But I don’t have a creepy doll collection! That’s the whole point!” you say, on the brink of desperation. You sigh at your friend who’s still catching his breath from laughing so much. “You’re just lucky they didn’t repeat your bullshit to anyone. I would’ve had such a weird reputation otherwise.”

“Of course they didn’t. I told them I’d kill them if they did,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if that was a normal and appropriate thing to do.

“Couldn’t you have threatened them that way so they wouldn’t ask me out instead of lying to them about me?”

Sunghoon stares at you for a few seconds, eyes seemingly empty of thought. “Huh. Yeah, I guess I could’ve done that.”

“Ugh,” you groan, and plop down on the bed next to him. Neither of you says anything for some time, until you break the silence again. “You know you even stole my first kiss, Hoon,” you speak softly.

“I know,” he says, voice just as quiet as yours. “You never shut up about it.”

“Why would I? I was about to kiss Lee Heeseung, of all people, the boy everybody, including me, had a crush on, but no, someone had to get between us and kiss me in his stead,” you grumble, giving your friend a harsh side-eye.

Sunghoon sighs and shakes his head as if you’re being irrational. “I don’t get why you’re so hung-up on that. Why would you want your first kiss to be because of a middle-school party dare rather than have it with your best friend, whom you know and trust?”

“It was Lee Heeseung, for God’s sake!”

“And I’m Park Sunghoon!”

Still both laying on your backs, you turn your heads to look at each other. There’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before that you can’t quite put your finger on. The person in front of you is one you’ve known for years now and yet the look in his eyes is of such unfamiliar intensity that it makes your stomach flip. You inhale sharply when his eyes drift down to your lips, and you can’t help but mirror his actions. The atmosphere has flipped like a light switch; it was playful just mere seconds ago, the sound of your usual banter filling up the room. All of a sudden, there’s something heavy dancing in the air around you, and it makes your heart skip a bit faster and your breath a bit shallower.

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you say his name.

“Yeah?” His eyes snap back up to yours, but you're still stuck on his lips. Have they always looked so kissable?

“Why did you do that? Why did you push those boys away from me?” you ask, even though you’ve asked this question a thousand times before. You want to hear his answer again.

“I’ve already told you. You deserved better than them.” Whenever you ask him about it, Sunghoon always stops here, and you never push. But there are unspoken words left hanging that you’re dying to hear.

“Who, then? Who’d be better than them?”

He's quiet for a second. “It’s a secret,” he whispers finally, a small smirk teasing his lips, and you roll your eyes at him. But then your eyes meet again and your breath hitches. You shift to your side so you can face him more fully, and he mirrors your actions.

It’s his turn to say your name. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you kissed anyone since?” he asks, coming off shyer than he’d intended to.

You giggle and smack his shoulder lightly. “Why do you wanna know?”

He snickers too and, to your surprise, stops your fist from hitting him a second time, enveloping his larger hand around yours and laying it between the two of you on the bed. “Cause I should know that sorta thing. Also, if you did kiss someone since then, and I didn’t know about it, I'd be upset.”

“Why would you be mad?” you say, still giggling, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat quickens when he threads your fingers with his.

“Because you wouldn’t have told me!”

“Well…”

“No way, Y/N,” he practically shouts, already feeling betrayed, his free hand coming up to grip his heart in fake shock.

“Let me at least finish first,” you protest. He obliges, although he doesn't look very happy about it. “You know that summer 2 years ago I went away to camp?”

“Yeah, worst summer ever.”

“Well, I did sort of… get with someone, that summer,” you say, avoiding Sunghoon’s wide eyes as he gasps loudly.

“What? Who with? How come you didn't tell me?” he exclaims, letting go of your hand. He sits up on the bed and crosses his arms over his chest like an annoyed child.

“Because of this exactly.”

“What’s this?”

“Your reaction right now!” you say, sitting up as well, both of your knees grazing his. The simple touch sends a shiver down your spine that you can only hope he takes no notice of.

“Wouldn’t you be a bit upset if I told you I ‘got with’,” he air-quotes, “a random girl two years ago?”

“No? Especially not if it was two years ago?”

You both look just as confused as the other, obviously not on the same wavelength. He furrows his eyebrows and glares at you. “Well, I am.”

You throw your head back in laughter and place your hands on his knees, but when you come forward again, you overestimate the distance between the both of you and find yourself mere inches from his face. The laughter immediately dies in your throat, and you feel it go dry when your stunned reaction elicits a smirk from him. You don’t know how long you stare into his eyes, all you know is you snap out of it when his gaze drifts down to your lips once more. You’re closer now than you were before, and having him so close makes your mind spin with all the possible outcomes of such proximity. You lean back on the bed, pulling away your hands from his knees to hold yourself up on them.

“There’s no reason to,” you say, hoping that breaking the silence will dissipate some of the tension in the air. You keep going back and forth between familiar and dangerous and you don’t know how long you’ll be able to handle that atmosphere. “It’s not like anything grand happened. We made out a bit and held hands. We never spoke after that summer, otherwise you’d have known about it.”

Sunghoon lets out a low hum. His eyes are still trained on yours, and you wished he’d look away because you can’t seem to do it yourself. He still doesn’t say anything, so you speak up again. “You say that like you’ve never had girlfriends, by the way. Surely you’ve done more than just kissing.” Silence again, and you can’t decipher the look he’s giving you. “So, I don’t know what you’re so scared about, because it’s not like you have zero experience. I’m sure the girls at uni will love you, Hoon.”

He sighs and finally tears his eyes away from yours, and you’re not sure if you’re seeing things because of how dark and late it is or if there’s an actual blush creeping on his cheeks. “Sure, I’ve had a couple girlfriends, but you know they’ve never lasted long,” he says, looking down at his lap. “We made out… I guess I-” he gives you a quick glance, “I’ve touched their boobs and they’ve touched my… you know…”

You can’t help but giggle at how shy your friend is suddenly being. “Can’t even say the word ‘penis’, Hoon?,” you tease, and his eyes snap back up at yours.

“Of course I can. Penis! There.” You look at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunghoon hushing you so you don’t wake up his parents, but his hushes are louder than your laugh. After a couple minutes, you calm down and wipe your tears away, grateful for the break in the tension between you and Sunghoon.

“Anyway, yeah, I guess I don’t have that much experience. Which is why I brought it up in the first place.” And just as quickly as it’d left, the tension is back again.

You look around the room because the weight of Sunghoon’s gaze on your face is unbearable. You release a shaky breath when you feel his gentle hand on your knee, and your eyes drift to it, but you can’t get yourself to look him straight in the eyes.

“Don’t you think it’d be good to get experience before leaving for college, Y/N?” he asks, and you can tell he’s trying to sound confident, but his voice comes out breathier and shakier than he must intend it to.

“I don’t know… I don’t think it’s necessary,” you say, eyes still trained on his hand resting on your knee. He squeezes it a bit, making you finally look up at him. Is it just you, or did the room get hotter all of a sudden?

“Not everything you do has to be out of necessity, you know.”

The both of you stare at each other for a few moments. This shift in your relationship was bound to happen; you’d been feeling it more and more recently. You didn’t use to think twice about Sunghoon taking your hand in his, nor did you feel those stupid butterflies eating away at your stomach every time his gaze lingered for a second too long. You’d tried to reason with yourself that it was just teenage hormones doing their stupid job, and that you were doomed to feel some kind of attraction for your extremely handsome best friend at some point in your life, but that if you ignored it hard and long enough it would go away.

Well, now that Sunghoon’s lips are barely inches away from yours and your skin is on fire under his hand, it definitely isn’t going away.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Sunghoon asks, eyes fluttering down to your lips. You think he’s looked at your lips more than the rest of your face in the past hour.

“I’d slap you,” you lie, gaze mirroring his.

“Would you really?” he says, and your hesitation makes him smirk slightly.

“No,” you breathe out, and it’s the answer he’s been waiting for, the answer he needs to finally press his soft lips against yours.

You don’t even have the time to savor the moment, though, because the warmth of his lips is gone as quickly as it came. He pulls back, a surprised look in his eyes, as if he can’t believe what he just did. The tension above you breaks and rains down on you like small pieces of confetti that settle comfortably on your head and shoulders. There’s a knot in your stomach but instead of twisting your insides in nervousness, it feels warm and makes you giddy for what’s to come next. Sunghoon’s surprised expression transforms into a grin at the sound of your laughter, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you.

You scooch closer to him, and his other hand comes to rest on your second knee. You can tell he’s not going to do much more, so you lean in bit by bit, and peck him softly on the lips. You both giggle again and you blame the fact that you want to feel his lips on yours again on the late hour of the night. You peck his lips once, twice more, giggling inbetween, but when you peck them a third time, he doesn’t let you pull away and keeps his lips on yours. The sudden added strength takes you aback, but it doesn’t take you long to yield to his touch and kiss him back.

Sunghoon moves his lips slowly against yours and it’s surprisingly easy to fall into his rhythm. You don’t have the most experience with kissing, but something about doing it with your best friend reassures you and your whole body relaxes as you focus on the feeling of his lips moving in cadence with yours. The knot in your stomach stays there and tightens when his hands ride up your thighs and settle on your hips, holding you snugly there. You’re only wearing shorts and his palms against your bare skin make you release a shaky breath in Sunghoon’s mouth. You pull back for a bit, surprised at your own reaction, but nothing has prepared you for the way your best friend looks at you.

His pupils are dilated, dark; his glossed-over eyes bore right into yours. Your breath was already shallow from the kiss, but it’s his gaze that renders you completely breathless. Sunghoon tightens his grip on your hips and leans in for more, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him, making his eyes snap back into focus.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what took over me. Are you okay?” he asks, as short of breath as you are, but worry laced in his voice.

“No- Yes- I mean, yes, I’m fine, everything’s fine, I just-” you shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m just…”

“Tell me. You can tell me,” he says, rubbing gentle circles into your hips with his thumb, and the unfamiliar yet intimate gesture makes it even harder to concentrate.

“We- we’re best friends, right?” you ask, voice trembling, You ask, even though you know the answer, just because you’re afraid the line the two of you have just crossed is already miles behind you, and you won’t be able to retrace your steps.

“Yeah, of course we are,” Sunghoon reassures, head tilting to the side in confusion.

“And best friends… Do they… Well, it’s normal for best friends to kiss, right?” you say, trying to calm the overpowering urge to kiss him again.

Sunghoon chuckles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know about that, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you breathe.

Sunghoon quickly catches on to your hesitation. “But who cares about what best friends usually do and don’t do?” he says, holding your face between his hands to make you look up at him. “I liked kissing you, just now. I really, really liked it,” he admits, red dusting his cheeks. “Did you?”

You nod, too shy to put just how much you enjoyed kissing Sunghoon into words. “Do you want to do it again?” he asks and chuckles when you nod again, eyes already on his lips. This time, you don’t stop him when he leans in and let him press his lips to yours again. His words have reassured you and you sigh into his mouth, making him smile into the kiss.

His hands ride up a bit and settle on your waist, bringing you a bit closer to him, and you circle your arms around his neck. The shyness of the first kiss is completely gone, and you’re both gaining more and more confidence, letting everything go and focusing solely on where your bodies meet. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you push your body onto his, a sudden need to feel him against you, to feel his strong arms encaging you.

You pull away at the same time to catch your breaths, smiling at each other when you see how lustful the other’s expression is. Sunghoon’s eyes have glossed over once more, and you’re sure yours have too. “C’mere,” he whispers, beckoning you to him. You climb onto his lap, one knee on each side of his hips. “Is this okay?” he asks, but you don’t answer, you just lean in and kiss him again, holding his face in your hand as his hands roam your back over the thin fabric of your t-shirt. Your kisses are curious, the both of you trying to figure out what feels best as you tilt your heads from one side to the other and let your inquisitive hands travel each other’s bodies. Yours find purchase in his hair, and you revel in the sighs that escape his lips whenever you pull and tug at the strands.

As the kiss gets hungrier and needier, his hands fall down to your lower back, and then to your ass. He just cups it for a while, but after a few moments, grabs it harder and brings you close to him, making your core rub against the hardness that had been building in his sweatpants for a while now. The friction is unexpected and you can’t help the loud moan leaving your lips at the feeling. It’s a feeling you know from your own hand in the privacy of your dark room, but Sunghoon making you feel that way is so foreign that it snaps you out of the daze you’re in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Sunghoon scrambles for words, but you’re already pulling away, and he doesn’t know what to do to keep you close.

You sit back on the bed, holding your knees close to your chest. You look at your best friend in front of you who’s looking at you with a worried expression. Something in you craves to reach a hand out to him, to feel his cheeks and jawline under your palms again, to find out if he’d shiver at your touch and if goosebumps would form on his skin. He’s been your best friend for eight years, and you’ve always thought you knew everything about him, the same way he’s supposed to know everything about you. But you realize in this moment that there are things you don’t yet know, melodies to be discovered, treasures to be unearthed. Your fingertips are burning to find them all.

The sound of your name resonates inside your mind and it takes you everything not to fall back on him again. You furrow your eyebrows, confused by all those things you’re feeling. What was it that just took over you, that lit your insides up so?

You straighten your back suddenly and take in your surroundings. Sunghoon’s room is still the same old room you’ve always known, the same blue walls, the same posters he only ever changes when he finds a new interest and lets go of an old one. The same pictures from when you were 10, 12, 15, recent ones now that you’re 18; the same figure skating trophies and medals on his shelves. You turn to look at your best friend. The same soft, round cheeks contrasted by a sharp jaw; the same almond eyes, round with worry at your sudden movement away from him; the same two moles you’ve always found so comforting, for some reason. You almost reach out to touch them, to give you some sense of balance, to reassure you that things aren’t changing as much as it feels like they are. But you’re scared electricity might fry your fingers if you touch him right now. You’re scared you won’t be able to take your fingers off of him, no matter how much it stings. His face is the same as always before, but there’s something else to it, something you could probably figure out if you spent more than three seconds thinking about it, but you’re not sure you want to figure it out.

“Is everything okay? Did- Did I do something wrong?” he asks, voice laced with concern.

Before he can put a reassuring hand on your knee, you get off of the bed, and hurriedly say, “No. I just- I think I should go home.” You look everywhere but at him.

He sits up at your words, concern turned into confusion. “It’s 3 a.m., Y/N, why do you want to go home all of a sudden? You’ve stayed over plenty of times before.”

“I know, I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with an excuse. “I’ve got cramps. I think my period’s coming,” you lie. It’s better than whatever truth is threatening to bubble up.

“Oh. Right.” He scooches a bit, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Is there anything- like- can I do anything?” He sighs, steadies himself. “You don’t have to go, is what I’m trying to say.”

A few months ago, when you had finally wrapped your head around the fact that your best friend was an attractive man and that he made you feel things friends weren’t supposed to make you feel, you’d told yourself it was all just a phase that would pass soon. But feelings this strong surely cannot go away that easily.

You take a deep breath in and tear your eyes away from him. “I think I should go home,” you repeat. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hoon.”

You turn around and start walking away, but Sunghoon is quick on his feet and stops you from going out the door. “Do you actually have cramps? Or are you just scared that our friendship might change?” He sounds out of breath, like asking this question is taking him all of his energy.

You avert his gaze and try to push past him, but he’s much stronger than you. Puberty sure played its trick on him. You sigh and look down at your feet. “I’m tired, Hoon, let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

But if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn. “I don’t wanna talk about it tomorrow. I wanna talk about it now. Did it feel nice?” he asks, and his resolute tone of voice makes you look up at him.

“I- I mean-”

“Y/N,” he starts, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in a bit, his familiar scent filling your nostrils. You have to close your eyes. “Answer me. Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer without thinking.

“Is that why you’re scared?”

“Yes.” Your eyes flutter open when you feel his fingers graze your cheek. He leans in again and traps your kiss in a much softer and intimate kiss that makes your head spin and your thoughts cloud. Before you can get carried away, you pull away again, and ignore how beautiful he looks when his eyes stay closed for a couple of seconds longer. He only opens them once you tell him once again you should go home, that you need some time to think.

“Let me at least walk you there. It’s dark,” he pleads, his grip on your waist still tight.

“Hoon, I live right next door, I’ll be fine.” You let him kiss you once more and he makes you promise to call or text him tomorrow.

When you leave, Sunghoon plops back down on his bed, arm resting on his forehead as he plays back the events of the night. Had he done something wrong? Something that made you want to get as far away from him as quickly as possible? He’d tried to be gentle and to make sure you were okay with everything, but he couldn’t help but get carried away when he heard those sweet sighs of yours. He thought he was going to combust when he heard you moan, and he wanted to hear it over and over again, but you’d jumped from him like he’d told you he had killed someone.

He hopes you were telling the truth when you said you were just scared about your friendship changing. He hadn’t wanted to push and get you to stay; he knew it was weird, seeing each other in a different light all at once. He wasn’t completely oblivious; he’d felt that same shift in your relationship those past few months, just like you had, although you’d never spoken about it to each other. He knew he could never go back to seeing you as just a friend when he’d jerked off one day and you were all he could think of. He kept imagining the sounds you’d make and the way your hands would feel on him, and he’d gotten so close to getting that today, but he must’ve fucked something up and now his chances were ruined. He curses himself for letting you slip through his fingers just when he thought he finally had you.

You don’t get a wink of sleep that night. Your mind is reeling with everything that happened in Sunghoon’s room. Your fingers unconsciously keep coming up to touch your lips and feel the ghost of his touch there. Your skin turns hot at the simple thought of how perfect his lips had felt against yours, and you toss and turn in your bed as you consider what might’ve been, had you stayed with Sunghoon.

But it’s all happening too quickly, and even though you’ve been curious in more ways than one about your best friend for the past few months, you hadn’t expected to kiss him and to enjoy it so much on a random summer night. Your thoughts only seem to calm down and your eyes finally close just as the sun starts to rise.

The next day, Sunghoon wakes up in the early hours of the afternoon and checks his phone right away. A couple of notifications, but nothing from you. A text from Jake in their group chat with Jay asking to hang out at Sunghoon’s pool, to which he replies that they can come whenever. He taps a quick one out in the shower, memories of your scent and your lips on his getting him to finish quicker than he’d like to admit. He’s in the middle of a late breakfast when Jake and Jay spawn at his door, swimming trunks already on. Still nothing from you.

It doesn’t take Jay and Jake long to figure out that something is up with their best friend. It’s not like he does much usually, but today especially, he makes no effort to entertain them. He laughs at their jokes, but it feels like he laughs because he hears other people laughing rather than because he genuinely finds them funny. He barely even reacts when the inflatable pool ball hits him right in the face.

His friends don’t say anything until they’re all seated at a table by the pool, sipping on some ice-cold Coke. The air is still warm but the sun is low in the sky, hidden behind the house. Sunghoon is still lost in his thoughts, unblinking eyes fixed on a random point in the distance. Jay and Jake exchange a look before the former breaks the silence.

“Is everything alright, Hoon? You look out of it today.”

Jay’s voice brings him back to the here and now, and his eyes jump back and forth between his two friends who are looking at him expectantly. “Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he says, leaving some of the truth out, but his friends know him better than he gives them credit for.

“Are you sure? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling us. You usually act like a little bitch when you’re tired, you don’t get all…,” Jake shakes his hand in front of his face, “distant like that.”

Sunghoon bites his lip, debating whether he should tell his friends about you or not. No matter how stupid they may be, they also know both of you quite well, so they might prove not completely useless, he thinks.

“Y/N and I kissed last night.”

It’s almost comical, how Jay and Jake bring their head forward in astonishment, how wide their mouth gets, how their eyes look like they might pop out of their sockets, and how they say “You what?!” at the same time. On a normal day, Sunghoon would've laughed.

“We kissed,” Sunghoon repeats, eyes drifting down to the ground in front of him as he rubs his neck in embarrassment.

“Fucking finally!” Jay exclaims.

“Told you it was gonna happen. No way you two were going to stay just besties forever,” Jake teases, punching Sunghoon in the arm. “How was it?”

Sunghoon sighs and leans back in his chair, letting his head hang back. “Really fucking amazing,” he chuckles. His friends holler for him, snickering like 12-year old boys who just saw a hot girl walk past.

“God, I saw this coming from miles away. I don’t know why you kept on insisting nothing was gonna happen between you two,” Jake says, beaming.

“I really didn’t think anything would… I just… Started seeing her differently recently, I guess.” Sunghoon shrugs, sheepishly smiling to himself.

“So, what happened? Did you guys just kiss or…?” Jay asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Jake giggles at the insinuation of sex but has a curious glint in his eyes when he waits for Sunghoon’s answer.

“Yeah, um, we just kissed cause she- she sort of ran away?” Sunghoon admits, wincing at the recollection.

“You what?!” Chaeyong’s voice rings out in the food court of the mall where you’re currently sitting, halfway through your strawberry milkshake.

“Keep it down, would you?!” you scold her, smiling apologetically to the people staring at you and your friend.

“If it was so good, why the hell did you run away, Y/N?”

“I just- I don’t know… Freaked out, I guess…” you mumble, cowering under the harsh look she gives you.

“Well, have you talked since?” You don’t reply, just guiltily avoid her gaze. “Y/N!”

“I know, I know! I just… don’t know what to do. ‘Hey, nice making out with you last night, bit weird since we’ve been best friends since we were 11, but that’s fine, right?’ Ugh! That’s so stupid,” you complain, flopping back in your chair.

“That’s exactly what you should say. Going MIA on him will just make things weirder. Plus you’ve never gone more than 24 hours without speaking so one of you will eventually cave in. It should be you,” she says, looking at you with a raised eyebrow as she takes a sip from her milkshake.

You scoff when she gives you a ‘you know I’m right’ look. “I’ll think about it on the way home and text him. There.”

And you do think about it on the way home; but you don’t get the opportunity to send the text, because as soon as you get off the bus at the stop right across from your house, you see Sunghoon sitting on the bench of your porch, looking around nervously and rubbing his hands on his denim shorts. You chuckle to yourself; who knew he got so distressed from not speaking to you for a day?

He stands up when he sees you approaching and raises his hand in a quick wave. “Hi, Hoon,” you greet, and you can feel his whole body relax when you hug him. So, you don’t hate him, he thinks. You sit down on the bench together. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I didn’t know what to say after… last night,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit facing him.

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckles, smiling shyly at you. “I was scared you’d never want to see me again.”

You look at him with wide eyes, mildly offended, and punch his arm. “How could you think that?!”

“Well, you did sort of run away from me last night,” he says, lightly punching your arm in return.

You tut in defeat. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. I’m just glad you didn’t walk past me straight into your house just now.”

You chuckle and rest your head on top of your knees. “That would’ve been a bit much, even for me.”

Sunghoon lets out a puff of air through his nose in response, and then the two of you sit in silence. You’re contemplating what to do next when your friend pulls you from your thoughts. “Should we, um…” He shuts his eyes tightly in reflection for a second before opening them again and looking straight at you. “Should we just pretend like last night didn’t happen? Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

His words take you aback and your eyes widen a bit; you hadn’t even thought pretending nothing happened last night was an option, because you didn’t think you’d ever be able to actually get it out of your head. Even now, if you stare at Sunghoon for too long, your gaze will naturally drift downwards or you’ll get a flashback of his large hands around your waist. But apparently, if he can offer to pretend like the previous night wasn’t a thing, then it must not have been such a huge deal to him. You quickly try to hide your disappointment and nod at your friend. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

Silence makes its way between you two again. It makes the late afternoon breeze a bit chillier and the physical distance between you and Sunghoon feel much bigger than it actually is. Wanting it to go away quickly, you ask, “Do you wanna watch a movie, then?”

Sunghoon’s never looked so relieved about watching a movie, and he immediately accepts your offer. You get some popcorn ready while he searches for a movie to watch. He clicks on a horror movie that looks like it’s got a cliché storyline and awful acting, but you’re happy for any sort of distraction when Sunghoon is sitting so close to you.

You and Sunghoon always sit close-by when you watch something together, knees and shoulders brushing against each other. Tonight isn’t any different, except that your skin burns everywhere it touches his. You can smell the faint scent of chlorine in his hair, and it’s so intoxicating you want to bury your face there and breathe it in.

You’re thirty minutes into the movie and still nothing’s happened when Sunghoon puts his arm around you, letting his hand hang over your shoulder. The sudden warm contact makes you take a sharp intake of breath as memories of the previous night come flooding once again. You don’t know what you were expecting, but Sunghoon simply rests his hand there and doesn’t do anything more for another thirty minutes, except for squeezing your shoulder when there’s a small jumpscare, making you chuckle at him. This isn’t much more than what you’re used to with him, but knowing your friend, he must be thinking the ball is in your court. So you scooch a bit closer into his side and rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his skin even stronger now that your nose is so close to his neck. You feel his chest raise and relax as he sighs deeply and tightens his hold around your shoulders. His small reactions to you spur you on and you decide to wrap an arm around his waist and you feel him flinch oh-so-slightly at your touch in such a sensitive spot. He starts to rub circles into your shoulder and rests his head on top of yours, and your whole body relaxes into his. This is so much more than what you’re used to with him; and yet, you so readily melt under his touch.

You can barely focus on the movie because of how close Sunghoon is. When a particularly scary ghost jumps on the screen, you flinch and hide your face in his neck, and he giggles at your reaction, hand coming up to stroke your hair comfortingly. It only takes you a few seconds to realize what position you’re in, and you release a shaky breath as you slowly lift your head towards Sunghoon, only to find him already looking at you, seemingly having had that same realization. When his eyes drift down to your lips, you know you’re done for.

You call out his name, and he’s already answered ‘Yes?’ before you’ve had time to finish uttering the second syllable. “I don’t think I want to pretend last night never happened,” you admit, holding his waist a bit tighter.

“Good. Me neither,” he breathes out before leaning down and trapping your lips in his, the kiss releasing all your pent-up frustration of the day. The world seems to melt away with his lips on yours, the movie already long forgotten. Sunghoon pulls you into his lap and you slide your palms up from his waist, against his chest and to his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing your body closer to his. His hands are sitting on your hips, fingers lightly pressing into them and your lower back. Now that you both seem to know what you want, it’s so easy, just falling into this kiss.

His tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip and you gladly open your mouth for him, letting his tongue explore it. You haven’t kissed someone like this in ages, maybe ever, but Sunghoon takes the lead and effortlessly gets you to follow his rhythm. When a flick of his tongue against yours feels particularly nice, you arch your back and press your chest into his, making him smirk into the kiss. This time, when he brings your hips down onto his, letting you feel his erection against your clothed core, the feeling doesn’t make you want to run away; instead, you want to feel it again and again.

You fall into a nice pace of rubbing yourself against him, eliciting hushed moans and loud breaths from the both of you. You can’t concentrate on kissing him and grinding down on him at the same time, so you drop your head down to bury your face in his neck, leaving a few pecks there but mostly moaning against his skin, enjoying how your hot breaths make him shiver.

You can’t keep a whine from escaping your lips when he bucks his hip into yours and his tip brushes directly against your covered clit, instantly bringing a hand up to your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes. “I know we gotta keep quiet ‘cause of your parents but the sounds you’re making are so fucking pretty. I wanna hear them over and over again.” His words make you whimper against his neck and you feel your slick starting to pool in your panties.

“H-hoon. This feels so good,” you moan, breathing warmly against the shell of his ear.

“I know, right? Feels so good,” he chuckles, hands grabbing at your ass to bring you harder down onto him. His actions are about to elicit another moan from you when, all of a sudden, a loud jumpscare in the movie makes you jump away from the boy underneath you and yelp in fear, which in turn makes him scream in surprise. You look at each other, panting and eyes open wide, hands clutching at your hearts, until you burst into laughter. The fun moment is short-lived, however, as your mom rushes down the stairs not ten seconds later, frantically asking if everything is alright.

You sit up straight at the sight of your mother and clear your throat. You’re thankful for the dark of the room which hides your and Sunghoon’s swollen lips and flushed faces from her view. “Sorry, mom, we were just watching a scary movie. We’re fine.” She sleepily nods and walks back up the stairs, and when she’s back in her room, Sunghoon and you exchange a look and erupt into another fit of smaller, quieter giggles.

That night, after Sunghoon’s gone home, the both of you get yourselves off in your own beds, the strong memory of each other’s lips and hands bringing you both to your releases. Without even realizing it, you moan out Sunghoon’s name as your orgasm hits. The window from your room doesn’t face his; but still, your heart is beating so loudly that you’re afraid the sound might carry from your open window to his. You get up and close it.

Now that you and Sunghoon both know you want to kiss each other, you do it everywhere: in his pool, his back pressed against the wall; on the sunchairs when you were supposed to be drying off; on your beds in the middle of the night, none of your parents or siblings suspicious of anything; in front of your house, because even though he was supposed to just walk you home, he couldn’t keep himself from tasting you one last time; in the backseat of his car after an evening with your friends and he drove you two home.

You spend a good two weeks of just kissing before your body starts to crave something more. At some point, Sunghoon’s hands resting nicely on your waist or sometimes, if he’s feeling bold, grabbing at your ass, start to not be enough anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with just kisses and sweet touches when one day, his hands slowly but surely slid up your naked belly before grabbing onto your bikini-clad breast, lighting your whole body up on fire. He’d slipped his hand underneath your swimming top and rolled your nipple between two fingers and you had felt his dick twitch under your core when you let out a loud moan at the new yet so pleasurable feeling.

You know what it is that you want, but it makes you feel dirty. Your fingers have made you finish a hundred times before, but wanting Sunghoon to make you feel that way is a whole other story. Is that even what he wants? Would he be weirded out if you asked him about it? Is there even the sliver of a chance that maybe, just maybe, he has those same thoughts about you, and wants you to make him feel good as much as he wants to make you feel good?

If his grunts and the way he ruts into you when your make-out sessions get particularly steamy are any indication, then the answer to those questions would respectively be yes, no, and yes.

You’re lying on a sunbed one afternoon, letting the sun dry off your wet skin from the pool, when you finally muster the courage to tell Sunghoon about your wishes. After all, he is your best friend, and you know you can talk to him about anything. Even when that ‘anything’ involves his fingers inside of you and his dick in your mouth.

“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head to look at your best friend. He’s bathing in the sunlight without a care in the world. His skin has tanned a bit since summer started three weeks ago and his muscles are even more defined after all that swimming and working out he’s been doing. You want to reach out a hand, to feel the taut skin of his abs and chest under your palms, and to maybe then slide your hand down until you feel his hard-on underneath his swimming trunks. Your chairs aren’t far apart and you could do it from where you are, but you’d rather ask him first.

“Yeah?” he answers without turning towards you.

You take a deep breath in before you start talking again. “You know how you said it could be good for us to get… experience before going to college… And how we’ve been kissing these past couple weeks…”

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles.

“Well… people do more than just kissing, right?” you ask, voice slightly shaky. This seems to pique his interest as he turns to look at you.

“Yeah?”

You hope you’re not just imagining the enthusiastic tone in his voice. “I think… I think we should try that too, don’t you think?” you ask, eyes not leaving his as he sits up on his chair and turns his knees towards you, fully facing you now.

“Yeah, I agree. I completely agree.” He stares at you for a few moments as if in disbelief. “Do you want to- Should we- Let’s go up to my room, yeah?” he offers, standing up and reaching his hand out to you. You gladly take it.

You and Sunghoon are a giggling mess as you practically run up the stairs, unable to get to his room quick enough. As soon as the door is closed behind you, you wrap your arms around each other, your lips finding his immediately as he walks you back to his bed. When you feel the back of your knees hit it, you detach yourself from him and lay on it, elbows holding you up as you look up at him expectantly.

“Fuck,” he whispers, leaning in to hover over you. He traps your lips in a short but sweet kiss before pulling back and murmuring against your lips, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Y/N?”

You beam at his words but decide to tease anyway. “You always go on and on about how pretty you are, but never about me.”

He giggles and pecks your lips again. “Well, I’m telling you now. You’re gorgeous.” You kiss him to hide your flustered face, pulling him so close to you he’s practically laying on top of you. Your hands are a bit more curious than usual, your kisses hungrier, the both of you anticipating what’s to come.

You grind against each other, the feeling of his erection against your barely covered core enough to send your mind into a frenzy. You forget everything around you when you feel Sunghoon pull back in the slightest, far enough so that he can look at your face and gauge your reactions but not too much that you still feel his hot breath on your lips. One of his hands is holding the back of your head as the other travels downwards, stopping for a second on your breast to massage it lightly before continuing its journey. It ever-so-slightly brushes against your core, making you buck your hips up into his touch, but his hand is already gone leaving you whining and pouting and him chuckling at your cute reaction. “You want it that bad, huh?” he teases.

You scoff, not wanting to let your friend know the effect he has on you. You press your palm against his clothed erection and he hisses at the unexpected contact. “So do you, Hoon.”

When he presses his lips to yours again, you both smile into the kiss. You cup his jaw and tangle your fingers through his hair, and his hand slips from under your head and joins his other hand on your thigh, grabbing at both of them, fingers slightly digging in your skin. He’s so, so close to where you want him most, and he seems to have noticed your growing impatience by the way you squirm underneath him. Seeing you so needy for him only makes him needier for you; he has more experience than you, so you probably expect him to take the lead, but the truth is, he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, face buried in your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses there.

“Yeah?”

“What do you want me to do?”

The question takes you a bit by surprise. You pull away to look at your friend. His eyes are completely glossed-over, and yours are probably the same. “Oh. I don’t know. I just… want you to touch me, I guess,” you say, voice a bit quiet.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admits sheepishly. He kisses your neck and cheeks before pecking your lips. “Could you- could you show me? How you do it? And I can show you how I do it?”

You take a second to take his words in. Was he suggesting that you touch yourself in front of him, and that he do the same?

This was like a dream come true.

“Yeah, sure.”

Sunghoon giggles in response, and you can’t help but crack a smile too, even though the idea of getting yourself off in front of your friend, no matter how appealing, is still a bit nerve-wracking. “You first,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes at him.

You sit back against the headboard of the bed and slip a hand underneath your swim bottom, the other hand coming up to cover your eyes in an attempt to escape Sunghoon’s heavy, lustful gaze. “None of that. I wanna see you,” he says, pulling your hand away from your eyes and resting it on a pillow next to you. “And if you keep these on, I won’t be able to see anything,” he says, looking down at your bikini top.

Before you can protest, he comes to sit on his knees in front of you, kissing your neck and letting his hands roam your back. “I wanna see all of you.” It’s so easy, untying your string bikini, he almost thinks you wore it on purpose for him to take it off. You avoid his gaze as he takes your top off of you, leaving you half-naked in front of him. “So pretty,” he whispers, and you can’t help but look at him, slick pooling between your legs from the fascination he’s looking at your breasts with. He trails kisses down your neck until he reaches them, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, then looks up to see your reaction. You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, and you can’t help but arch your back at his touch and moan loudly, hand flying up to tug at his soft hair. He releases your nipple with a pop and moves sideways to pay the same attention to the other one, but Sunghoon is impatient and doesn’t waste too much time on it; he knows he can come back to your boobs later anyway. Right now, you’ve got a hand between your legs, and that’s what he’s dying to see.

“Can I take this off, too?” he asks, looking up at you as his fingers hook on the sides of your swimming bottoms, waiting for you to nod. His eyes don’t leave your glistening core as he pulls the thin fabric down your legs, discarding it somewhere on the floor of his room. He lays on his belly and kisses the inside of your knee as he holds your thighs in his large hands, still transfixed by your pussy when he says, “Show me how you do it, please.”

You both take a sharp breath in when you start moving two fingers in gentle circles over your clit, already wet from making out with Sunghoon. Your fingers are nimble and know exactly what to do after years of doing this, but the pulse in your core is even stronger now that your best friend is watching your movements this intently. He looks like he’s scared to blink in case he might miss something. You can’t take your eyes off of his face; you’ve never seen him so fascinated by something, so eager to learn. It makes you want to put on a show for him.

A surge of confidence hits you out of nowhere as you slide your digits down your folds, gathering some slick before sliding them back up to your clit and rubbing it a bit faster, a bit harder, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. With your free hand, you tug at the base of Sunghoon’s hair and make him look up at you. You release his hair and bring your pointer finger up to your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, and Sunghoon’s mind is taken back to that day a couple weeks ago when you had sucked on those lollipops. Oh, how things have changed since then. Not that he’s complaining. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathes out, eyes zeroed in on your lips and mouth slightly agape.

You smirk at his reaction, stomach on fire with the feeling of having this kind of power on him. When you’ve wet your finger enough, you bring it down to your slit, circling around your hole before entering it, releasing a loud moan for good measure. Sunghoon is mesmerized by the quickening with which your finger slips in and out of you, the fingers on your clit never relenting. He doesn’t even realize he’s released one of your thighs to palm himself over his shorts until you notice it yourself and tut in disapproval.

“Come and help me, Hoon,” you say, and the boy snaps out of his daze at the sound of his nickname. He nods slowly, changing his position so that he’s laying between your legs, head dangerously close to your core. You slip your other finger out of your hole and he takes that as a sign to replace it with his own. One hand still gripping your thigh, he imitates your previous actions as he gets his pointer finger wet with his saliva before pressing it between your folds, right underneath your clit where your fingers are still rubbing circles, sliding it down towards your slit, and finally pushing it in.

“So warm… So wet, too,” he whispers in wonder, making you cover your eyes with your forearm out of shyness.

“Oh my God,” you moan, arching your back and letting your head drop to the side on the pillow. Sunghoon’s finger is much thicker and longer than your own, and it stretches you out and hits a deep spot inside you you never could, no matter how much you tried.

“Like this?” he asks, eyes curious as they bounce back and forth between your face and your entrance sucking his finger in.

“Yes, yes, just like that, you can also- oh- you can also curve it upwards a bit- fuck, yeah, just like that, Hoon, you’re doing so well,” you say, the praises just flying out of your mouth.

This seems to instill some confidence in him, as he cocks an eyebrow at you and speeds up his actions. “Yeah? My finger making you feel good, Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bite back, but immediately let out a long whine when he easily inserts a second finger in your soaking pussy. He curves them inside you just like you told him to, and the feeling of his fingers filling you up and your own quick ones on your clit are creating a familiar knot in your stomach that is so close to breaking. That is, until Sunghoon pulls your wrist away from your clit.

“Y/N… Can I?” he asks, and you’re not sure what he’s planning, but nod anyway. He wastes no time before pressing his tongue flat down on the sensitive bud, and you actually feel like your soul might leave your body. Fingers knuckle-deep inside you, he licks and sucks at your clit, and the warmth of his tongue against your folds is what makes you tumble over the edge, tightly gripping his hair and bucking your hips into his mouth.

“Oh my God… Oh my God, Hoon, please, don’t stop, please,” you beg, voice getting higher and whinier as you cum all over his tongue. He continues eating you out until it gets too much and you have to tell him to stop. He hikes his body up yours, pecking you sweetly on the lips when he reaches them.

“Your turn,” you announce and hook your legs over his hips to straddle him. You’re about to lean in for a kiss when you notice how lovingly he’s looking at you: his eyes are soft and a small smile is playing on his lips. It takes you aback, but you’d be lying if you said butterflies didn’t spread in your stomach. “W-why are you looking at me like that?”

His grin gets a bit wider. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Y-yeah…,” you admit, averting your gaze from him.

“I’m glad. You taste good, by the way. Sweet.” You want to kiss the devilish smirk off of his face.

You scoff at your friend, glaring a bit. “Whatever. Sit up,” you order, but it just makes him smirk more.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You look up at him to check for confirmation, and when he nods, you hook your fingers under his swimming trunks, taking them off of him along with his boxers underneath. His already fully-hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, and you curse yourself for your reaction that will surely just inflate his ego, as if it wasn’t already massive. Your mouth hangs open, eyes zeroing in on his length, flushed red from lack of attention and what you can only guess is precum leaking at the tip. It's straight from a porno.

“Like what you see?” Sunghoon teases, making you look up at him, and you can only stupidly nod. You take the position he was in earlier, laying your head on his thigh and caressing the other, letting it ride up to rub his inner thigh and the tiniest bit over his cock, making his smirk vanish as he takes a shaky breath in.

“Show me how you do it,” you say, echoing his words from earlier. He gulps, finally realizing that he was going to have to masturbate in front of your curious eyes just as you had. He spits on his open palm and spreads the precum over his length with his thumb, lubing himself up before gripping the base and starting to move his hand up and down. You watch as his head falls back against the pillow when his palm grazes over his tip and his movements pick up some speed.

You rub his palms over his thighs, itching to get closer to his cock and make him feel as good as he had done to you earlier. Tentatively, you reach out to grab his balls in your hands, massaging them softly, feeling satisfied when a loud moan leaves his throat. “Oh, f-fuck, that feels good, Y/N,” he breathes out, voice much higher than you’re used to. If he thought that felt good, then nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of your soft and warm tongue kitty-licking his balls, then taking turns sucking each one into your mouth and releasing them with a pop. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” he asks, involuntarily bucking his hips into your face.

You can’t help but giggle, and Sunghoon thinks he might come from the sweet sound contrasted with your lewd actions alone. “I read a lot of fanfiction,” you explain, and he doesn’t question it. If Wattpad taught you how to suck dick, then so be it.

You wrap your hand around his and tell him to keep going so you can get an idea of what pace and movements he likes, and you graze your fingernails over his abs and chest with your other hand, chuckling at how sensitive he is when you lightly pinch his nipples. Sunghoon takes his hand off of himself, laying both of his hands palms up next to him on the bed, so you decide to literally take things into your own hands. Trying to recreate what he did before, you spit into your palm and wrap your fingers around his tip, bringing your hand down in a swirly motion to the base of his shaft. You do that a few times, asking, “Like that?” to get confirmation from Sunghoon.

“Just like that, baby,” he says, not even taking notice of the pet name; but you do, and your face immediately flushes, surprised at how much you like it.

“Baby?” you repeat, but he’s too lost in his pleasure and just hums in response. His reaction eggs you on, and you lick a long stripe from his base to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and humming at the bitter but not unpleasant taste of precum there. When another moan escapes his throat, you take his tip in your mouth, at first just shallowly thrusting your head, but then trying to take more and more of him.

You’re so focused on what you’re doing that you don’t even realize how quickly he’s panting and how his grunts start to get whinier until he’s moaning out your name. “A-ah, Y/N, feels so good, ‘m gonna cum, fuck-”

He goes silent as he shoots his release down your throat, eyebrows deeply furrowed and mouth open wide in pleasure. There’s so much of it and you can’t swallow it all, so you pull your head back, catching your breath, and a hot string of cum hits your chin and your throat. Sunghoon takes a look at you and the sight of you with some of his cum makes his dick twitch before he plops back down on the bed. You giggle as you take tissues from the bedside table (cause of course he’s got tissues next to his bed) and wipe away his seed, then lie down next to him, brushing away the hair that’s sticking to his forehead with sweat and peppering his face with soft kisses.

He opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head to look at you before engulfing you in a bear hug, sweaty bodies sticking together but neither of you minding it. “That was so good, Y/N. What the fuck,” he sighs, pecking your forehead.

You hum, nuzzling your nose into his neck. “I know, right? Who knew you could use your mouth for other things than saying stupid shit,” you tease.

He pulls back and gives you a look that tries to be stern, but you know he’s joking. “Do I need to remind you again, young lady?”

You giggle and peck his lips, forcing him out of character as his dimples appear on his cheeks. “Later, definitely.”

And after that day, he makes sure to remind you time and time again of how good his mouth feels on you. You should’ve seen it coming with how amazing of a kisser he was; but truly, there was nothing like cumming on your friend’s tongue.

You’re relieved to find that not much has changed, after all; you and Sunghoon still play around in the pool, watch stupid movies and hang out with your friends like always. Sure, there are stray hands here and there, or looks that last a little too long and mean a little too much, but if anything, it just makes your friendship more playful and exciting.

You’re both open with what you like and don’t like, so it doesn’t take either of you to figure out exactly how to make the other come undone embarrassingly quickly. (The shortest amount of time it took him was 2:38 seconds - yes, he timed it - and he hasn’t let you live it down since.) You like it when he presses his large hand down onto your lower tummy while he eats you out, or when he sits you between his legs and whispers all sorts of things as his fingers work their magic inside you and on your clit. He likes it when you get down on your knees in front of him and look up at him as you suck him dry, or when you sit in his lap and kiss his neck and play with his hair while he plays video games. And don’t even get him started on when you palmed him over his sweatpants while you watched a movie with Chaeyong, Jay and Jake, making sure that the movements under the blanket went unnoticed by them. He wanted to punish you after they left, he really did, but you took him in your mouth right there in the living room and gave him an orgasm that had his thighs shaking for five minutes afterwards. You were pretty proud of yourself for that one.

You also find out that he hates it when you tease and edge him, which only makes you do it more; the only problem is that, if you do that, he’ll make you ride his thigh and won’t help you at all. His proud smirk and snide praises combined with the feeling of his thick thigh underneath your core were more than enough to get you to your end, though.

And truly, nothing has changed, especially not Sunghoon’s special talent in pushing boys away from you.

“What do you mean, Lee Heeseung is coming back?” he heatedly asks, slamming his glass of lemonade down on the outdoor table so hard you’re scared it might break.

“It’s the summer, of course he’s coming back. He just stayed behind for a bit to enjoy a few weeks of the city without college, and now he’s coming back here,” Jake explains, shrugging.

“Do you know when he’ll be here?” you ask, far too much excitement in your voice to Sunghoon’s taste.

“Just in a couple days.”

Sunghoon has smoke coming out of his ears when he sees how much you perk up at the news of your old crush being back in town for summer. He likes the boy, but he hates that you like him. And since Heeseung is friends with Jay, Jake, and by association Sunghoon, begrudgingly so, he’ll definitely see lots of him in the upcoming months. And if Sunghoon sees Heeseung, then you’ll see Heeseung, too. And that, Sunghoon doesn’t like.

You notice something is off with him that afternoon because of how uncharacteristically quiet he is. Sunghoon, ever the loud introvert, is always arguing for no reason and laughing louder than everybody around him. So when he merely chuckles at his friends’ numerous displays of stupidity in the pool and doesn’t even say anything in protest to you getting on Jake’s shoulders to play against Chaeyoung and Jay, you know something is definitely up. You also have a good idea of what that something might be, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it endearing.

You stay behind when your friends leave in the early evening. Without a word, you and Sunghoon pack away the inflatable toys in the pool cabin and clean up the table, putting the dirty glasses in the sink. You do the dishes while he prepares sandwiches for the two of you, which he insisted on doing after he heard your stomach grumbling. You watch the latest Kurtis Conner video as you eat and can’t help but notice that he doesn’t even chuckle at any of the jokes or skits when he’d usually be clutching his stomach in laughter.

When you’re done eating, you take a resolute breath and pause the video, but Sunghoon doesn’t even notice, only snapping out of his daze when you call out his name.

“Huh?” When his eyes find you, he almost looks surprised to see you, as if he’d forgotten you were there.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you ask, slightly frowning. “You look so out of it today.”

“Huh? I’m fine, nothing’s wrong,” he says dismissively and presses play, but you quickly pause the video again.

“I’m your best friend, Sunghoon, I know when something’s the matter and I know when you’re lying. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but don’t pretend everything’s fine when we both know that’s not true.”

He peers at you for a moment, cursing you for knowing him so well. He crosses his arm and averts his gaze, pouting like an angry child. “I hate it when you’re right.”

You giggle and make your way around the counter to him, standing inbetween his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck to make him look up at you. His hands come naturally up to your waist. “I just…” he starts, then immediately stops himself with a sigh., “You’ve always had a crush on Heeseung. But these are our last couple months together, and I don’t want somebody else taking up your attention…”

He buries his face between your breasts to hide his blush, and you can’t help but giggle again. “Stop laughing at me!” he protests, but the muffled sound of his voice just makes you laugh more. You stroke his hair and press a gentle kiss at the top of his head.

“Sure, I’m happy Heeseung’s coming back. But there’s no one I’d rather spend my summer with than you, Sunghoon, you should know that.” He leans back to look up at you with puppy eyes and a small pout. You cup his face, admiring how cute he looks like this, and smile softly down at him.

“Really?”

“Really,” you answer, and he leans in for a kiss.

It’s a soft one. It’s a patient kiss, neither of you urging to get somewhere else, to do something more. It reminds you of that kiss in his room a few weeks ago, when you were still curious and discovering each other. From then on, your kisses had become more feverish, more eager, more playful. But now, you’re taking your time. For now at least, neither of you is going anywhere. So your lips melt together slowly, and when you take breaks to breathe, you look each other in the eyes and smile before leaning back in.

It’s when you sigh against his lips, eyes still closed as you pull away, that it hits him. I could do this forever, he thinks.

I could sit here with my arms around her waist and her lips against mine and the smell of chlorine and the sound of her laugh forever and I’d never get tired of it, he thinks, but immediately afterwards, he realizes he won’t get to do this forever. Summer will end, you’ll both head off to college, and you’ll only get to see each other every few months until another summer comes. And who knows what might happen until then?

You might meet someone and realize Sunghoon isn’t all that; hell, he might meet someone, but he highly doubts anyone could even come close to the way you make him feel.

“Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?” you quietly joke, looking down at him with an affectionate look in your eyes. You press the pads of your fingers to his two moles before replacing your fingers with your lips, giving each one a quick peck. “You were up on the moon for a minute there.”

Sunghoon hums softly, smiling as he lets himself melt under your touch. “Sorry. It’s just really hot, isn’t it?” he says, a stupid excuse he uses as a blanket to cover his feelings. There is some sweat beading at his hairline, which helps make his lie more believable, but you don’t need to know it’s not just because of the summer heat.

Slowly, your smile turns mischievous, and Sunghoon can tell you have an idea in mind. “It is pretty hot… Wait here.”

He watches as you fill a tall glass with ice from the dispenser in the fridge and pop an ice cube in your mouth, a devilish smile on your face, and laughs when that smile is replaced with a frown as the coldness hits you and you spit it back into the glass, laughing along with him. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks between giggles.

“I got the idea a few days ago when we were having popsicles…,” you say looking down at the glass between your hands, slightly embarrassed. “You kissed me and your mouth was really cold but it felt nice.” Sunghoon hums, egging you to go on. You lift the glass up to his cheeks, applying just a bit of pressure to the soft skin. “I thought this could be refreshing.”

You take the ice cube back in your mouth, sucking on it but not letting it melt completely before pressing your lips against Sunghoon’s and opening your mouth just a bit so he could feel the cold of the ice cube. You feel his smile into the kiss as the ice cube swirls between your tongues, sending shivers down your spine.

“Very refreshing indeed,” he murmurs when the ice has completely melted. He gets up and takes the glass in one of his hands, leaning down to your level and says “C’mon” with the same mischievous smile as you on his face.

You two hurry up the stairs, and when you get to his room, he hands you the glass before throwing himself on his back, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. “Show me what you had in mind.”

You straddle his hips and take an ice cube from the glass, rubbing it over his lips before pushing it inside his mouth, the cold making him hiss. You quickly counteract that by pressing your lips to his, the contrast of your warm tongue and the freezing ice turning him on more than he would’ve thought.

When the ice has melted, you take another piece and brush it along his jaw, down his Adam’s apple and around his nipples. The cold temperature makes him squirm but he doesn’t shy away from it, even closing his eyes to focus solely on the feeling. While you play with the ice cube, you also leave warm kisses all over his skin, reveling in its slightly salty taste from the thin layer of sweat. You let the ice cube melt between his abs and watch him wriggle as he sucks in a sharp breath, then grab another one, starting off where the previous one stopped. You circle his navel while your fingers play with the hem of his swimming trunks. He pulls them down himself and you chuckle at his eagerness. “I should’ve known you liked the cold, with all those years of ice skating you did,” you tease.

He’s almost fully hard, and it only takes a few kisses and trailing the ice cube down his inner thighs to have his dick fully erect. He’d only been letting out small sighs and hisses until now, but when you grab another ice cube and circle it around his sensitive tip, he throws his head back into the pillows and moans loudly. You push your luck and drag the ice cube down his shaft, his thighs snapping together when it reaches his balls. You put it in your mouth and let it melt so that your tongue is still cold when you swirl it around his tip, already tasting precum there. But before you can take him further in your mouth, he calls out your name.

“Wait. I don’t wanna cum just yet. My turn.”

He shakes his shoulders in excitement as you switch positions, you taking your t-shirt and bikini top off and laying on your back and him sitting down with one knee on each side of your thighs, an ice cube in his hand and a giddy smile on his face.

He brushes it over your lips before pushing it just a bit into your mouth, holding onto it with two fingers while you suck on it, gazes locked in each other. Just as you did earlier, he trails it down your throat and your chest until they reach your nipples, marveling at the thin wet trail it leaves in its wake. He licks this trail as he circles one of your nipples with the ice cube, and you don’t know if you should focus on his warm tongue or on the cold ice cube. Once it’s melted, he takes another one and circles your other nipple with it, his mouth coming to wrap around the now cold one. Your hands fly up to grab at his hair, your back arching into his touch as you moan and pant loudly.

He sucks and licks at your nipples until you’re calling out his name, begging for more. As nice as his mouth or an ice cube around your nipples feel, your pussy is throbbing and desperate for attention. “Sunghoon… Please,” you whine.

“Please what?” he teases, looking up from your breasts with a smirk.

You whine again, knowing he knows full well what you want. “Please…”

He trails the ice cube down your stomach, circling your navel a few times where it melts before slipping two cold fingers underneath your bikini bottoms. “Is this what you want, baby?,” he asks as he rubs his fingers between his folds, and you whine at the feeling of having him so close to your hole and to your clit but not quite there either. He smirks when you nod frantically but whine at the loss of his fingers against you as he takes your bottoms off and reaches for another ice cube.

You release a loud moan and arch your back off the bed when the ice cube touches your clit. “Fuck, Hoon!”

He rubs the ice cube up and down your folds, your heat melting it much faster than your skin. He takes another one and brings it to your entrance this time, circling around it before pushing the ice cube in and staring with wonder as it melts quickly. He holds your hips down so you stop bucking them up, whimpering at the amazing feeling of the ice against you. He replaces the ice cube with his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit, sucking expertly at the sensitive bud and lapping at your juices. And while it feels good - God, does it feel good - and you let Sunghoon know just how nice it feels with your moans, whispers of his names and the way you hold onto his hair, you’re craving something more.

It’s something you’ve been wanting for the past few days, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. No matter how nice Sunghoon’s fingers and mouth felt, they didn’t make you feel close to him enough. You wanted to be so close to him you didn’t know where you ended and where he started; you wanted to feel him.

You pull him up by the face, asking him to come here and getting lost in his lips as soon as they reach your level. God, Sunghoon’s kisses. You could drown in them. But still, that craving, that need for more. And now that his body is pressed up against yours and you can feel his erection against your thigh, so close to your core, you think you know what it is that you want. “Hmm, please…”

“You keep asking me for something, but you don’t tell me what it is.”

“You. I want you, Hoon, please,” you beg, murmuring against his lips as you wrap your legs around his hips and bring him even closer, his cock now pressing against your cunt.

“M-me?,” he asks, leaning back just a bit, but you pull him back in right away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please. I need to feel you inside me.”

Your words are enough to get a moan out of Sunghoon. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he pants, planting kisses all over your face and neck. Usually, you’d giggle at the ticklish sensation, but right now, you’re so drunk on pleasure, it just makes your breath even shallower and your core wetter.

“How long?”

“God. Since the second time we kissed probably,” he replies, reaching for a condom in the drawer of his bedside table. You think back to that moment six weeks ago (how has it been six weeks already?, you think), after you and Sunghoon had made up and made out on his couch in front of a horror movie. He’d wanted you for that long? And he’d waited for you to say something since then?

“Today’s your lucky day, then,” you tease in an attempt to alleviate the need for him that takes over your bones, but his gaze when he looks back at you ruins any effort. If anything, it just makes you need him even more. You feel like you might explode if you don’t have him right now.

You watch as he clumsily wraps the condom around his member, clearly never having done this before, but you wouldn’t be of any help, so you let him figure it out on his own. You let your head fall back as he rubs his tip up and down your folds, gathering your slick on his dick before aligning himself at your entrance and giving you a long, deep kiss.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, forehead on yours.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am. But I’m also scared.”

“Scared of what, Hoon?” you ask, opening your eyes to look at him. You caress his cheek and cup his face in your hands, watching softly as he lets his head rest on your palm.

“I’m scared of hurting you. I heard it hurts the first time. And I’m scared…” he closes his eyes and frowns a bit. “I’m scared it’ll feel too good. That I’ll always want it. You.”

You take a small moment to think, your thumb brushing over his cheek in what you hope is a comforting manner. “You won’t hurt me, Hoon. It only hurts if you’re not ready… And I’m plenty ready. I know you’ll take it slow.” You smile softly when he nods, turning his head to kiss your palm. But if sex is as good as you’ve heard it is, you’re also scared that it might be the best thing you’ve ever experienced and that you’ll never get enough. You and Sunghoon have been meeting up almost everyday this summer and it has more often than not ended up with one of you between the other’s legs; you could never get bored of the things he made you feel or of knowing you were making him feel those exact same things. If you couldn’t live without his fingers, how could you live without his dick?

How could you live without him?

You tried to snap out of those thoughts, reassuring yourself that even before all of this you couldn’t imagine yourself living without Sunghoon, and that there was no reason this should change anything. “And don’t be scared of that, silly,” you say, making him smile. “I’ll always be here, Sunghoon. I’ll always want you, too.”

“Fuck, okay,” he whispers, kissing your lips once before pulling himself up on his palms, hovering over you. “Tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?” he asks and waits for you to nod before finally pushing in.

You instantly moan when you feel his tip inside you, and Sunghoon stops, frantically asking if you’re okay. It takes some convincing to get him to push himself further in. “It feels so good, Hoon. Please keep going.”

You tell him to not stop until he’s fully inside you, and he obeys, even though he wants to stop when he sees your frown and your sharp intakes of breath. When he’s buried to a hilt, he can’t help but collapse on top of you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Y/N,” he drawls out. “Feels so fucking good. So tight,” he murmurs against your neck.

“Mmh. Give me a minute, baby.” Your hands caress up and down the expanse of his back and you feel him relax on top of you. As you adjust around his length, the stretch starts to feel more and more pleasurable, until pleasure is the only thing you feel. “Hoon?”

“Yeah?” he says, kissing and nibbling softly at your neck and earlobe.

“You can move, now.”

Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice and ever-so-slowly slides out of you, leaving only the tip in before he slides back in. His thrusts are slow but deep, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s barely started but you’re both already whimpering messes, holding onto each other tightly as pleasure like neither of you has felt before takes over your entire bodies.

As you both get more comfortable, his pace picks up just a tiny bit and you tentatively raise your legs higher so that they’re hooked around the back of his knees instead of laying on the bed. The new angle only adds to the intense pleasure, but you don’t even realize you’re crying until Sunghoon stops mid-thrust, wiping your tears with his thumb and worryingly asking if you’re okay and if it hurts and if he should stop. You open your eyes and smile, instantly calming his nerves. You bring his head closer to yours and kiss him like you’d stop breathing if you didn’t. “It feels so fucking good, Hoon. So, so good.”

He sighs out of relief and resumes his actions, heart swelling with pride that he’s making you feel so good, you’re crying. He’s always hated seeing you cry or hurt in general; but knowing what kind of tears these are, he thinks you look so pretty with tears streaming down your face. His hands grip your thighs a bit tighter as he quickens his pace, already addicted to the feeling of your warm walls taking him in so well.

He slips out a few times but you’re always quick to guide him back inside you. He lifts his body up a bit to get a deeper angle, hoping it’ll get him to stop slipping out, and he’s blown away by the sight underneath him. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous as you do now, legs spread wide for him, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed and mouth agape for him. He kisses your tears, the salty taste bringing a smile to his lips. “So perfect,” he whispers against your mouth. “You look so beautiful.”

Sunghoon takes your legs and wraps them higher around his hips, the new angle hitting a spot inside you that’s making you see stars and has you moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know how to say. You feel that familiar tension build up inside your stomach much faster and much stronger than it usually does.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum,” you warn, and a harsher thrust inside you is what pushes you over the edge, the sensation crashing into you and making your thighs shake. An orgasm has never hit you this hard before.

You’re clenching around him like crazy and Sunghoon gasps as you milk him dry, his own orgasm hitting him all at once. He shoots his release inside the condom and stills inside you, breath completely taken away by the sudden, overwhelming sensation.

He lays on top of you for a moment as you both catch your breaths, trying to make sense of how something can feel this good without killing you instantly. He apologizes when his pulling out makes you wince and kisses the top of your head. He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so that you’re now almost lying on top of him, head against his chest as his arms wrap themselves around you. You leave kisses all over his chest and neck and his hands caress your back.

“That was amazing.”

“I know, right?” he responds immediately, his enthusiasm making you laugh.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say timidly, voice muffled against his skin.

“For what?”

“For making me feel this good.”

He chuckles. “No need to thank me, pretty. If anything, I should thank you for letting me make you feel good, and on top of that making me feel good.”

You hum at his words and you both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying each other’s warmth. Something blooms inside your chest, and you don’t know whether to let it grow or to squash it down. It feels nice, almost too nice, and you’re scared it might get ripped away from you and it won’t feel so nice then.

Friendship, sex, love. In those weeks spent with Sunghoon, those previously clear lines have blurred to a point they were all one big messy ball of feelings and not three distinct things you could tell apart. Has sex turned your friendship with Sunghoon into something romantic? Or is that just an illusion, and being so intimate with your best friend has messed up your once platonic vision of him? But was your vision of him ever platonic?

Haven't the two of you always been teased about liking each other for a reason? After all, you and Sunghoon didn't grow up together, and he’s never felt like a brother to you. He has always been your male friend; you’ve always been aware that he was your friend who was also a boy. When you'd moved in the house next to his, you hadn’t instantly clicked; it took a while for the ice skating prodigy to warm up to you, but his parents had warmly welcomed yours into the neighborhood and quickly became friends, so it was only a matter of time before he’d open up to the idea of you being around. Constantly.

You’d walk to and from school together, do homework together, go on family trips together, cheer each other on at your respective competitions. After his ice skating lessons, when his coach let him have the whole place to himself for a bit more practice, he’d tie your ice skates for you and drag you onto the ice rink, holding you by the waist or shoulders as he skated backwards in front of you, but also laughing at you when you inevitably fell. He’d tease you for getting second place at the science fair or for getting your arguments torn apart during Model United Nations, but the way he’d be a little nicer to you or share his food more often that week wouldn’t escape you.

Being a handsome young ice skater, Sunghoon had developed quite the loyal following of boys and girls alike who would come to see him at his competitions. He thrived off of the attention, but no matter how much he enjoyed his fans’ admiration, you were always the one he’d skate to after having won first place, hugging you tightly over the barrier separating the ice from the bleachers. Especially during your younger teen years, Sunghoon wasn’t one for skinship or PDA, so it always meant that much more to you that even after his most important wins, you were the first thing on his mind. It never failed to make your stomach flip, and all the death stares from his fans in the world couldn’t have changed a thing.

You were already close, but you became practically inseparable after Sunghoon’s injury. During the competition that would have gotten him a place at the Youth Winter Olympics had he won, his nerves got the best of him and he didn’t land his triple axel, hurting his ankle in the process. Ten years of dedication and hard work, ruined in mere seconds. To say that it destroyed him would be an understatement.

You were the one to bring him back up. You listened to him when he needed to vent, held him when he needed a shoulder to cry on, cheered him up when he needed to smile. He didn’t even need to tell you what he needed, you seemed to just know. You reminded him that he had a lot more value than his medals and trophies and that he didn’t need them to be complete. His family and friends tried their best to make him feel better, but their words never reached him quite like yours did.

Slowly but surely, his confidence came back. He’d lost his fans, but he’d gained a friend he knew would always be there for him. His dimples would appear more often, his laugh would resonate louder. His injury had made the two of you grow closer, creating a bond that would only strengthen over time.

And yet there were moments when being friends wasn’t enough. When calling him your best friend didn’t feel right. You had other friends, friends you were close to; sure, maybe not as close as to Sunghoon, but close nonetheless. And you didn’t feel that way around them.

Their laugh didn’t make your heart skip a beat. You didn’t want to bury your face in their necks and breathe in their scent when they hugged you. You didn’t want to know every single detail of their day. And you surely didn’t feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when they danced with another girl at your school ball.

You also didn’t crave their lips on yours every single day since it had happened for the first time and didn’t want to see what they sounded or looked like while getting the life sucked out of them through their dick.

Everybody told you it was obvious you were ‘more than friends.’ Why did romantic love have to be ‘more’ than platonic love? Why were there levels to it? You didn’t like the idea of taking your relationship with Sunghoon ‘one step further’; that wasn’t the way it felt to you. Rather, it felt like having to change everything you knew and create something new. Something where you could see him laugh and tell him about your day, but where you could also kiss him and graze his skin with your fingertips. Something that only you could share with him and only he could share with you. But you were afraid the friendship would fall apart if things didn't work out. So, instead of taking the risk of changing everything, you made sure things would stay the same. You’d tell the butterflies raging in your stomach to settle down and you wouldn’t let yourself fall into his touch in case it’d be like falling from the highest mountain.

That is, until he kissed you. Until this moment, right now, lying in his arms, ear right over his heart so you can hear it beat for you. You look up at him. His eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on his lips. He looks so peaceful. He always looks pleased when you’ve just been together, but right now, he seems to be in such a serene state, it almost makes you laugh.

Now that you’ve given in to your feelings, you’ve realized just how strong they were this whole time. Nothing has ever felt better than being in Sunghoon’s arms, than being able to see him at his most vulnerable state and to give all of you to him. All those things you didn’t know about him just six weeks ago, you know them by heart now. You’re sure there’s other things to find out, and you’ll make sure you will.

But summer won’t last forever.

A wave of sadness slaps you right in the face, bringing you back to reality. There’ll come a time where you and Sunghoon won’t be able to lounge around all day or lazily make-out at your will. You’ll go your own ways and not see each other for months at a time. The thought of that is unbearable, and you feel like looking at Sunghoon for a second longer might rip your heart into a million pieces.

When you sit up, tearing yourself away from his grip, he immediately opens his eyes, asking what’s wrong.

“Just need to go to the bathroom. I heard you can get STIs from not peeing after sex,” you half-lie. He nods and falls back into the bed.

You rush to the toilet, needing to get far away from Sunghoon as quickly as possible. Even your pee smells different - guess that’s what having a dick inside you will do to you. You wash your hands and look in the mirror: your skin is darker in some spots, surely Sunghoon’s work. So not only did he mess with your thoughts, he also had to make your body all weird, too?

You splash your face with cold water, hoping it will bring you back to your senses. You and Sunghoon have been best friends for years. There’s no point in changing all of that now, is there? You’ll be leaving soon enough, anyway. Why ruin a perfectly fine friendship for a summer fling?

Those are your thoughts as you head back to Sunghoon’s bedroom, ready to tell him that this whole thing was a mistake and you should just pretend it never happened. But your resolve crumbles at your feet as soon as you step inside the room.

Sunghoon’s got a couple of snacks ready as he browses through Netflix in search of an appropriate movie. “How about Twilight?” he says when he feels the bed dip under your weight next to him. He kisses your forehead and pulls you down on the bed with him so that you’re lying back against his chest.

Screw it, you think. Whatever this is, it’s much more than a summer fling.

The rest of the summer goes by in a flash. No, you don’t try to make Sunghoon jealous by flirting with Heeseung; if the mention of the latter’s name was enough to get your friend mad, then purposefully twirling your hair or batting your eyelashes at the older boy just might make Sunghoon white-boy-punch a hole into a wall. And it’s not like Heeseung would try coming onto you, either, with how clingy Sunghoon gets when he’s around, always an arm around your waist and a glare that could kill Heeseung.

Sunghoon gradually opens up to Heeseung being around, even though it takes you reminding him almost daily that he’s the one whose arms you wanna end up in over anybody’s. After a couple weeks, Sunghoon stops looking like he's on the brink of starting a fight every time Heeseung so much as talks to you or hands you a glass of lemonade, and finally relaxes around him.

You spend countless sleepless nights with Sunghoon. You’ve probably memorized every single one of his moles by now, and you’ve made sure to kiss all of them. He holds you against him like he might lose you at any given moment. The only nights you don’t fall asleep in each other’s embrace are when either one of you is sleeping over at your friend’s house. On those nights, sleep always takes hours before washing over you, the lack of warmth keeping you awake.

Your friends and you spend entire days at the lake or by Sunghoon’s pool, not a care in the world. You rest your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder as you watch the fireworks Jake and Jay bought go off. Sunghoon grills your marshmallows for you, blowing on them so they cool down before handing you the stick. You try to ignore how the night air gets slightly chillier and how the sun sets slightly earlier, but by the last days of August, it becomes too noticeable. When September rolls around, you’re sure there’s a small crack in your heart.

You know Sunghoon feels the end of summer too. His kisses are deeper and his lips linger over yours a second longer. He frowns when he kisses you and hugs you, like he’s trying to remember what it feels like. His usual playful demeanor when you’re in bed together is gone, instead seemingly hellbent on making you feel good and almost begging you to say his name. As if you could say any other name. As if you could say anything else.

Neither of you mention your departure until the night before you leave. After spending the evening with your friends, you lie together in bed, the side of your face resting against his chest so you can feel his heart against your ear. He’s tracing patterns with his fingertips on your back, and it takes you a while to figure out he’s spelling his name over and over again, as if to etch it in your skin. When, once in a while, he takes his hand off of you to reach for his phone, you can still feel his fingers caressing you, ghostlike against your skin.

The air around you feels heavy, pressing the both of you down into the mattress. You wish the bed would eat you alive so you could stay there, warm against each other, as long as you like. You know you can’t leave without talking first, but the words won’t come to you. Instead, they float around the bed, weighing your heart down into your stomach.

“So,” you start. You're unsure what to say, but you know this conversation has to happen, one way or another. In the end, you settle on, “Excited to leave?”

Sunghoon scoffs lightly, his motions on your back coming to a stop. “Not really, no. It’s not like I’m leaving that far, and half of our school is going to our uni.”

“Maybe, but there’ll be tons of other people. Tons of other girls, too,” you add after a short pause.

“Don’t do this, Y/N, please.”

You sit up at his words. He covers his eyes with his forearm and takes a deep breath in, sensing an incoming argument. “Do what?”

“This. Getting mad at me when I haven’t done anything.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you protest, frowning down at him.

“No? Then what’s this?” he says, smoothing down the lines between your eyebrows and on your forehead with the pad of a finger.

“Whatever.” You nudge your head away from his touch. It burns. “It’s not like I’m wrong, anyway. You’re gonna have a bunch of girls at your feet, and you’ll know what to do with them, right? Now that you’re not a virgin?” you question, avoiding his gaze.

“Y/N…” he sighs, shutting his eyes tighter as if in pain.

“What? This was the whole reason why, right? Get experience with me so you could fuck girls better, no?”

“Y/N!” he says, raising his voice enough to let you know he’s upset but not enough to scare you. He sits up, looking at you with hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “What’s this all of a sudden? It’s not like I forced you into this! We agreed on it together!”

“So you agree? That this summer was just about getting experience and now you’ll use it on other girls and pretend like we,” you gesture between the two of you, “never happened?”

“What do you mean ‘agree’? I never said any of this! Don’t put words into my mouth!”

He watches as you get up from the bed, arms crossed and pacing his room. He calls out to you a few times, but you don’t stop to look at him until he speaks your name with a sternness you’ve never heard before from him. “What?” you snap.

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this out of nowhere! We both knew summer was gonna end at some point, and why we were doing this! Why are you blaming me now?”

“Because… because…” you sigh, scrambling for an excuse. Why were you doing this? The thought of Sunghoon doing what he did to you to another girl, making her feel as good as he had made you feel, kissing her like he had kissed you, made you sick. It made you see red, it made you want to make him wear a shirt with your face on it so everybody knew he was yours.

Sunghoon gets up and stands close in front of you, too close. You close your eyes. If you see his moles, you might reach out to touch them and let yourself fall even more. If you fall, you’ll need to get up, but his scent makes your knees weak.

His hands find your face, holding a little too gently, you think. Your small ones wrap around his wrists and grip them, a little too harshly, he thinks.

You take a step back and finally look into his eyes. There’s hope in them; hope you’ll say what he wants, what he needs to hear. That you want him like he wants you. That you wish summer wasn’t over. That you’ll keep him in your heart until you can see him again. So, when what you say next is none of the above, he feels his heart sink down to his feet, leaving a murky puddle there.

“I can’t do this.”

You rush out of the room, practically running home. You fight your tears back until you slam your bedroom behind you, pathetically sinking to the ground as you let out a loud sob. You don't have the energy to get up, and cry into your hoodie's sleeve right there on the floor.

When you’ve calmed down a bit, you get up and lay in your bed, hiding your whole body underneath the covers. Maybe this is for the best, you think. If you end it like this, you won’t have the knowledge of whether he’ll wait to have you back or he’ll move on like nothing happened. That way, you can do whatever you want, not caring about what he’s up to.

But even now, your hands subconsciously reach out towards a person that’s not there and your feet hang over the edge of your bed as though to get up and run to him anytime. You curl in on yourself to stop your body from aching for him. It doesn’t work very well.

Sunghoon stays where you left him for a few minutes, too stunned to move. Should he run after you? Should he let you cool off for a bit and talk to you in the morning? Would you be mad at him if he didn’t try to see you now or would the mere sight of him just make you angrier? He plops down on his bed as these questions run through his mind, butting into each other and making everything more confusing.

He thinks back on everything that led to this, and his mind settles on that day a few days after graduation where his thoughts had dropped to the lowest pits of hell. If only you hadn’t brought those two damned lollipops.

The next morning, Sunghoon wakes up as if somebody had slapped him awake. He doesn’t bother to brush his teeth or eat anything before running over to your house, almost forgetting to put shoes on. He finds you in your room, packing the last of your things into an already full suitcase. He stands at your door, panting as his hands rest on his knees.

“You haven’t left yet. Thank God.”

“God, Hoon. It’s not that far between your house and mine. How are you so out of breath,” you say, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He walks to you and kneels in front of you, taking you in his arms before you can say anything. “Talk to me, please. Don’t leave like this. I’d never forgive myself if you left and you were mad at me, Y/N.”

You thought you’d cried so much last night that there was not a single drop of water left in your body, but you thought wrong. Your eyes immediately well up at his words, and he leans back when he hears a soft sniffle escaping you. Only then does he notice how puffy your eyes from all your crying.

“No, no… Have you been crying? I’m so sorry, pretty, please don’t cry,” he pouts, pulling you back into his embrace. It hasn’t even been half a day, but you missed his warmth so much, it only makes you cry harder.

After sobbing against his chest, possibly staining his shirt in the process, you pull away and in your light-headed, dehydrated state, spill your heart out. “It’s so stupid,” you sob. “We’re not gonna see each other for months and I’m gonna miss you so much and I don’t want you to be with other girls. I want you all to myself and I don’t want to be your friend that you fucked for a summer just so you could get experience, it was a stupid idea in the first place, if you wanted to kiss me, you should’ve just kissed me. But you didn’t just kiss me and now I’m scared that this all meant nothing to you but everything to me and that I don’t want to be friends anymore but you do and I’m mad that it took me all summer to say this even though I’ve known it for years but I didn’t want to admit it to myself but also you didn’t say anything and I’m mad about that too. Because there’s no way you don’t feel like I do but maybe you actually don’t and-”

Whatever you were about to say dies out against Sunghoon’s lips as he presses his lips to yours, interrupting your rambling. He pulls away, looking at you with a huge, stupid grin. He’s so stupid, you think. I love him so much.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for you to say this so bad, you have no idea.”

You punch his chest, frowning at him. Those stupid tears won’t stop. Everything is so stupid. “Then why didn’t you say it first?”

“Because I didn’t know how to. You know I’m bad with words. And I was scared it’d make things weird.”

“I don’t want things to be weird,” you pout.

“I don’t want things to be weird, either. I want things to be nice and happy.”

You giggle. “That’s so stupid.”

“Right? It’s so stupid,” he repeats, kissing you again.

“Your breath smells,” you complain when he pulls away.

“And you have tears on your lips. Tastes salty,” he teases.

“Yeah, thanks to who?”

“Sorry.” He smiles and kisses you again. He holds you against him for a while, enjoying this last moment together. As long as he can see a smile on your face before you leave, he’ll be fine.

“I’m gonna miss you so much too, Y/N. And forget about those non-existent girls. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you.”

“How do you know? You haven’t met any of them yet,” you say, voice muffled against his t-shirt.

“I’ve met other girls before. None of them compare to you,” he says, and you immediately gag at how cliché it sounds. “What?! It’s true,” he giggles.

“You’re not gonna go and date a random guy, are you?”

“Of course not. None of them compare to you,” you say, lowering your voice to imitate his.

He helps you finish packing, and when you’re done, you lay together on your bed, not saying much because not much needs to be said. Your parents struggle to tear you away from each other and from your bed when it’s time to leave. He helps your dad put your baggage in the trunk of his car, telling you to not lift a finger so you watch him go to and from the car, leaving a kiss on your forehead every time he walks past you. You notice with a smile that he doesn’t carry much at once, making him have to go back-and-forth quite often.

After saying goodbye to your family, your dad waits in the car as you and Sunghoon hang back awkwardly, kicking small pebbles on the pavement. He takes your hand in his, making you look up at him, then takes the other hand, then hugs you close to him.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you say, as if that wasn’t obvious. You’re trying hard to fight tears from falling again, but it’s like there’s an ocean behind your eyes, water somehow never running out.

“I already miss you,” he says, and that’s enough to get you to sob again, which makes him start crying too. You’re crying, he’s crying, your mom is crying from the porch as she watches the two of you, it’s a mess.

You force yourself away from him, cupping his face in your hands. “We’ll see each other soon, okay? And college will be fun. You won’t even have time to miss me. But make time to think about me, yeah? And text me.”

“I will. I’ll think about you all the time, I already do,” he says.

“Okay,” you whisper and hug him one last time, very briefly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You’re about to walk away but he doesn’t let go of your hand and pulls on your arm to bring you back to him.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I love you,” and you sob.

“I love you, too.”

This time, when you walk away, he lets you go. He watches as you get into the passenger’s seat and as the car drives away, as it takes you away from him. You watch him stand there in the rearview mirror, until his silhouette becomes smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until you can’t see him at all anymore.

Summer went and fall came as they do every year. Dead leaves are falling but it’s a new start for you. It’s a new town and you don’t know anybody, but you click instantly with your roommate and make new friends throughout your first week there. You realize everybody’s in the same boat, and they’re all eager to meet people and are curious about college life. You love your classes but complain about them nonetheless. You eat more ramen than you’d like to admit and turn up hungover at a 9 am class on a Thursday. You pull all-nighters at the library and develop a caffeine dependency. You’re a college student.

You and Sunghoon were very dramatic when you left, you soon realize. You call almost everyday. He’s not there with you and you miss him but at least you don’t have to pretend you’re not stupidly in love with him anymore. Because it’s stupid, being in love, it really is. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Your first semester passes by almost too quickly, and before you know it, you’re on the drive home, already one eighth of the way through university. You’re excited to go home, but Sunghoon’s finals last a week longer so you wait around for him. When you complain about it, Chaeyoung tells you to get a grip. “You haven’t seen him in three months, I’m sure you can handle another week.”

And you can, but barely. You were about to explode but then he’s back and you’re in his arms and his hair is still so soft, his scent is still so comforting and his moles are still there. You kiss them both before you finally press your lips to his, and it makes you feel so alive, you could die right then and there.

You lie on his bed and talk for hours as if you didn’t keep in touch the whole time and it’s like you never left. It’s like summer never ended and you’ve just been lying in his bed the whole time, college just one big fever dream.

But his skin doesn’t smell like chlorine anymore, and he’s not in his swimming trunks. It’s fall, almost winter, and you’re kissing Park Sunghoon. You realize you can kiss him whatever the season and you find comfort in that. It was a big day (you cried a lot when you saw him) and you’re tired so you think you’ll kiss for a bit and that’ll be all but then he whispers “I missed you so much” against your neck and a fire lights inside your stomach. Oh, how it burns. You think it might consume you whole, but you don’t dislike that idea.

In a flash, you’re on top of him, his shirt is off, your shirt is off, but it’s not enough so you take your pants off too and Sunghoon is confused as to why you’re going so fast, but follows you anyway. “What’s going on?” he asks when you’re done with the taking off of your clothes and have moved on to kissing and biting at his neck like it’s your first meal in ages, because it is.

“I missed you too,” you simply answer, and he smirks as he nods slowly, now understanding your eagerness.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he teases, letting his head fall back against the pillow so you have better access to his neck.

“Shut up. Kiss me,” you order, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Your kisses are ravenous and desperate, very fitting for two horny people in love who haven’t seen each other in months. But the pulse in your core makes you too impatient to stay anywhere for too long, and really, it’s not your fault if you’re grinding down onto Sunghoon’s clothed erection, it’s just that he smells too good and you missed him too much.

Sunghoon laughs at you for being so impatient to hide just how impatient he is. His giggles keep him from moaning loudly enough to wake the whole house, and you laugh as you tell him to stop laughing.

“I’m serious. I missed you so much. Need you so bad,” you say as you get rid of your underwear and quickly do the same for his. He gasps when he feels you take his dick in your hand and brush its tip between your folds, both out of pleasure and out of surprise.

“Shouldn’t I get you ready? Stretch you out a bit?” he asks, his hands roaming up and down your back as he sits up on the bed so that you’re straddling his lap, and you shake your head no. You’re probably already embarrassingly wet from your short makeout session, anyway.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” you say, lining his tip with your entrance. “Need to feel you.”

You sink down on his cock, the both of you releasing loud moans at the long-awaited feeling. He lets you adjust to his size for a minute, but as soon as you move your hips just a bit, signaling to him that you’re ready for more, it’s over for you. He wanted to be patient and take his time, he really did, but you feel so warm around him and your small whimpers are so pretty that his resolve of letting you take the lead is thrown out the window. He pounds into you at a rapid pace that has you biting his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming.

You had imagined your first time back with Sunghoon so many times before. It usually involved a nice playlist in the background, fairy lights and candles lighting the room, hours of foreplay and sensual lovemaking, with a nice bath afterwards. Sometimes, when you were particularly needy for him, you imagined something closer to what was actually happening, where you’d rip each other’s clothes as soon as you got to the bedroom and fucked like animals (a bit much, admittedly, but you really missed him).

What you definitely hadn’t expected, however, was that you’d both cum in less than five minutes. What could you do, though, when he was hitting your g-spot over and over again, his length stretching you perfectly as he whispered in your ear how much he’d missed you and how good you felt? And what could he do when you took him in so well, clinging onto him as you told him how much you’d missed him and how good he felt?

You finish at the same time, hole clenching around him and milking him dry. He doesn’t pull out for a while, letting you collapse onto him as you both catch your breaths, just like you had that first time. “That was a bit quick,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh.

You pull back to look at his face. It’s so pretty and stupid. What a stupid face that you love so much. Do you love it because it’s stupid or is it stupid because you love it? You think that that’s a stupid question, and you kiss the mole on his nose, then the mole on his cheek, right next to his nose.

“We have all night to go slower.”

“We have all Christmas break,” he corrects.

We have the rest of our lives, you think, and you think that might be a bit much, but you say it anyway. Sunghoon hums and says, “yes, we do,” and you think maybe it’s not all that stupid.

Maybe it’s the greatest thing that’s ever been.

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz (ask to be removed/added!)

#enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst #enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines #enhypen au #sunghoon au #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon fanfiction

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jaylaxies · 1 month ago

Text

CALL ME WHEN YOU HATE ME LESS

PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader (ft. jaehyun and heeseung).

GENRE/CW: smut, angst, eventual fluff, porn with plot, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, blowjob, using panties as a gag, spitting kink, edging, squirting, slight overstimulation, mentions of fighting, blood, usage of nicknames, slowburn if you squint, emotional trauma, lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 18,321 words. (18.3k)

SYNOPSIS: Jake Sim was a walking academic hazard—hot, broody, and failing just about everything that wasn’t football. Enter you, his new tutor: organized, overachieving, and absolutely not here for his attitude or his annoyingly perfect lips. But between late night study sessions, petty insults, and one very inconvenient almost-kiss, things start spiraling—fast. He’s supposed to be you project. You are supposed to hate him. Instead, you both are one sarcastic comment away from either a breakdown or a makeout, and honestly, it could go either way.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni (the full fic will include smut).

A/N: hihi, angels! if you have seen this before then yes, it is a revamp of my jeno fic as requested by a few anons! i hope you guys will enjoy it! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Chapter 1: Raised in Shadows, Told to Shine.

Comparison.

The core of all insecurities. The onset of overthinking. The path to self loathing.

That’s what comparison does to a person—drive them to the edge of insanity in hopes of turning into something; into someone the others will look up to, compare themselves to.

It was a bad thing per se, but it was motivation enough for Jake to work harder in order to leave the country, to get away from his family.

The reason? His mother ever so conveniently happened to have fallen in love with a rich guy, someone who never knew what struggle meant, and Jake was just four back then, he didn’t bother changing his surname. It didn’t take much time for him to settle into the lifestyle, however, no matter how much he could have prepared to face his step-brother, he simply couldn’t bother looking him in the eye.

Why? Because he was known to be the epitome of perfection. Jung Jaehyun was the son every parent wanted, the student every teacher was fond of, the doctor every nurse wanted to work with.

The sweet dimple on his cheek was a great asset in melting the hearts of everyone in his proximity or afar.

Jake on the other hand, wasn’t quite sure why he wasn’t considered to be enough, especially when he got decent grades throughout his school life, he wasn’t a bother, kind to those who were around them, but it changed.

It changed when he got daily reminders of how he wasn’t even close to how amazing and successful his step brother was.

That’s when things started looking down for Jake. He stopped caring about the grades, he wasn’t sure why he was supposed to put up a I’m so good, so smart act in front of others when there was no reason for him to do that.

Others didn’t bother doing the same for him.

Rather, he tried to work upon the only thing he was passionate about, the only thing that mattered to him—football.

Despite winning several trophies for playing the sport, his parents labelled it to be useless, which broke the last fragment of his heart, shattering it to the point of no return.

Which would explain his current demeanor—moody, permanent scowl on his perfectly sculpted face and no care for the others around him. His sole focus being football, which is also the reason behind his current dilemma.

“Being an excellent player in the sports team does not guarantee you your scholarship, Mr. Sim,” Jake’s teacher incharge spoke up, taking off her specs right after reviewing his annual grade report, “you’re failing three out of five modules, and if you don’t start getting back on track soon, then I’m afraid you won’t be able to play in the team anymore.”

Fuck.

Jake had been neglecting his studies, he admits, yet he never thought that he’d reach this point. It’s not that he wasn’t smart, he simply had no motivation to go on with his studies. His parents could easily pay the university to keep him around, however, he wanted nothing from them, which also explains why he got himself a scholarship in the first place.

“I’m sorry if I’m late.” Jake’s eyes snapped wide open, turning back to see his step brother entering the teacher’s cabin.

“Why are you here?” Jake asked, a muscle in his jaw twitching but Jaehyun only smiled.

Jake’s professor was equally stunned, probably even more with her jaw wide open at the appearance of such a handsome young man.

“I called him in since your parents were busy,” his professor said, handling Jake a letter, “go and find your tutor in the council room, she’ll be helping you with the upliftment of your grades, Mr. Lee, and now if you’ll excuse us, I’ve got to fill in your brother with your current situation,” she said the last part awfully sweetly as Jaehyun sat down in one of the vacant chairs, smiling at her kind tone.

Jake scoffed, the demeanor change around Jaehyun went crazy and he wasn’t a fan of it, especially when he was called in to complain about his mistakes.

He simply wanted to leave the university and never come back.

He waited, taking deep breaths before punching the wall, not being able to contain his anger. The impact did hurt, yet he paid no heed to it, the blood dripping as he walked towards the council room to get over with the day.

The name written on the sheet wasn’t unfamiliar to him, rather it only wearied the already infuriated boy as he knocked on the door of the student council room, which was empty except for you sitting there, working on a few papers which appeared to be the newsletter for the month.

“Come in,” you allowed, not looking up as Jake made his way inside the room, observing the surroundings where he’s never been before.

Then he looked your way, taking in your appearance. You looked cozy in your university varsity jacket, your specs sitting on your nose as you buried yourself in reading whatever it was that you were reading. He couldn’t deny you looked pretty in a way that’s comforting to eyes.

With no words exchanged, he pushed the letter towards you, which finally made you look up at the source of disturbance, your eyebrows raising slightly as you most certainly did not expect the star football player to visit you in the council room, which he’s never been to before.

He simply stood there, hands shoved into his pockets while still looking around, and you took a second to grab the letter, skimming over to read and understand that the letter was given by Mrs. Kim, the teacher in charge of your department, requesting you to take up the few teaching sessions you had applied for, Jake being the student you’ll have to teach for the same.

You clicked your tongue, folding the letter exactly as it was before pushing it his way, your arms folding across your chest as you finally spoke up, “I reject. I don’t wish to teach you.”

His eyes were quick to snap towards you, finally staring right into your own eyes, irritation clear as he pushed his tongue on his inner cheek, eyebrow raised.

“Aren’t you supposed to kiss your professor’s feet, given that you’re in student council? And here I thought you’d be a good girl.” Jake rasped, resting his arms on your table, leaning down to your level.

You chuckled, expecting the exact response from him, “this is exactly why I don’t want to waste my time on you—you athletes don’t wish to study, you just require a passing grade, for which, I don’t have time to spare.”

“What the fuck do you mean waste your time?”

“Sim Jake, you’ve got more money with you than your bank account can handle, so I’m sure losing your scholarship won’t do you much harm,” you said with a sickening smile, “you’ve got no interest in studying, your attendance record states that oh so proudly.”

“You don’t know shit about me,” Jake seethed out, messy hair strands falling over his eyes.

“I know everything I need to know about you. Now excuse me, unlike you, I actually have work to do,” you said, passing him a tight lipped smile, not letting the proximity faze you.

“You—”

Jake’s sentence was cut short with two sharp knocks on the slightly ajar door, a head peeking in, successfully garnering your attention. You could feel your mood doing one eighty with the sudden intrusion of this stranger—whom you didn’t wish to be a stranger around anymore, your eyes softening, lips parting as you stared at him in awe.

Meanwhile, if Jake thought that the day was done being a bitch to him, then he was wrong because the level of irritation that bubbled up in him the moment he saw the change in your expressions.

“Sorry to interrupt, may I get in?” Jaehyun asked, smiling his usual dimpled smile, which had you swooning in record time.

You could practically see veins of frustration popping out on Jake’s neck, “no. Your work is done, you should head back home,” he groaned, but Jaehyun only looked you way, continuing to get in, looking your way.

“I’m Jaehyun, Jake’s elder brother. I can’t thank you enough for agreeing on giving him tutoring lessons, especially with how busy you must be with council duties,” he spoke up, shaking your hand, which was smaller in his warm, big hands.

Jake scoffed, “she’s not—”

“Of course, Jaehyun! It’s my pleasure to help him out, and it’ll only help me better with my extracurricular credits! It’s no problem,” you nodded, a gentle smile on your face as your eyes practically twinkled with excitement, taking in the beauty that Jaehyun beheld.

It was ridiculous.

It was absurd how just two sentences; paired with a sweet smile from his brother, were enough for you to change your decision, in the span of two seconds at that.

He tightened the hold he had on the strap of his black bag, “no fucking need. I’ll find another tutor,” Jake deadpanned, walking out of the room, not paying attention to Jaehyun who called out his name in the background.

He wouldn’t let you use him to get to his brother.

With that thought, he decided to detour and make his way to the gym, trying to blow off steam by practicing punching, each one getting progressively stronger as his mind replayed the difference in your behaviour when it came to him and his brother.

It didn’t bother him that his knuckles were bruising, he knew he needed this extrinsic pain to get rid of the obvious hurt he felt each day.

And he couldn’t understand why he felt so affected by your actions, especially when it was the first time you had met.

Jealousy was indeed a bitch.

Chapter 2: Surrendered to the skirt.

Two days passed by and Jake’s mood showed no progress in terms of improving, rather, he felt worse each time the memory invaded his brain. He tried his best to sit down and open the first module of the unit he had to study.

It’s not like he was bad at studying, he was just a bit out of practice, and well, his mental health wasn’t doing much to help him get any better.

Just when he was about to actually get a hang of getting into the topic, the doorbell rang. His parents were out for business, as usual, and his step brother was busy doing morning shifts, which meant that he was alone at the mansion, minus the myriad of worker staff they had to take care of the place.

Essentially, he had to get down to see who it was at the door, only to spot you leaning against the doorframe as one of the attendants had asked you to wait. He stopped, observing you from the staircase as you typed something on your phone.

Why were you here after clearly rejecting him? Why were you here when he’s clearly told you he doesn’t want you to be his tutor?

Scoffing, he walked down the stairs and towards you, standing right in front of you, clearly invading your personal space as he decided to lean against the same side of the thick door frame with his brows raised.

You took a second to take in his appearance as he was clad in casual gray sweatpants with a blank tank, which honestly did nothing to hide his muscles.

“Why are you here?” Jake asked with a bored tone.

“I’m here to teach you, remember?” You gave him a pointed look.

“And I clearly told you I don’t wish to study from you, it’s better if you leave now. I’ll just tell Mrs. Kim that you taught me,” he said, almost turning back to go inside.

“And have them wondering how you failed even after getting tutored by me? Yeah, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, inviting yourself in without second thoughts.

“Y/n, I’m not fucking kidding, you should leave. Besides, the one you came for isn’t at home at the moment,” he muttered bitterly.

That caught your attention, “oh? Busy with a job then?” You asked, looking around the exquisite paintings hung at the entrance of his place.

“Are you gonna leave or do I have to call the guards to escort you out?”

You chuckled, “you really don’t want the previous year questions I have? The council students get them each year you see, they’re bound to guarantee you good marks,” you explained with a smirk.

Jake groaned, his lip bitten as he tried to think if tolerating you would be worth the questions, but his football career was at stake and there was no better option but to accept it.

“What’s the catch?” Jake asked after a few seconds, sighing with defeat.

“Nothing at all. We both know that you need these papers to get the grade that you wanna achieve and I’ll get my extra credits,” you reason.

“You just wanna meet my brother,” he said dryly, “either way, you won’t get to see a lot of him, he’s always at the hospital, working and being the perfect son he is. Plus, he’s definitely not into uni students,” he looked you up and down, soon gulping and looking elsewhere.

You were clad in a pretty skirt which showed off your legs—which you did wear in hopes of crossing paths with Jaehyun, but you completely missed how Jake was staring at your body.

He wasn’t sure if it was out of hatred that he stared at you, or it was admiration because you were one of those people he despised—overachievers.

You were in the student council, got good grades and professors favoured you, it wouldn’t be a surprise if your parents loved you for being the ideal daughter. It most certainly didn’t help that your appearance seemed as if you were the sweetest, kindest angel on earth, which wasn’t the case when you were around Jake though.

“I’ll manage,” you shrugged, “so, I need your final word, Mr. Sim.”

“I am sure I can find better tutors than you,” he raised his brows, challenging you and you didn’t look fazed at all.

“I am quite literally the best, professor Kim asked me to tutor you for a reason, besides, no one’s gonna agree to help you out with exams being only one month away,” you made your point, extending your hand for him to finalize his decision.

Overconfidence. He sighed.

Jake stared at your extended hand, thinking of the bigger picture here. He’d get tutoring and would be able to score decent grades if he gets back to his usual routine of studying.

Downside? He’d have to face you each day.

Sighing and keeping his feelings in check, he simply nodded, taking your smaller hand into his as he accepted the offer, suddenly aware of the warmth of your palm and how it leaves a tingling feeling behind as you shake his hand firmly with a smirk.

“So, where are we gonna study?”

Chapter 3: Silent room, a loud mind.

Turns out, it’s not that easy to sit down and just teach Jake.

Given the amount of classes he had missed, or rather, the amount of classes he had managed to attend, it was clear that he didn’t even have the basic idea of the syllabus for the semester modules.

Moreover, you had already pissed him off by mentioning how you didn’t expect him to have such a clean and organized room, as if you had already decided that he was going to be a messy human.

Moving forward, you both sat down next to each other with your laptop open in front of you as you made him write down all the topics he needed to cover for the next month, forming a sort of timetable of a kind.

It was surprisingly peaceful between you two, as if you both wished to get over with it as soon as possible, behaving as civilly as you could but there was this one thing that Jake couldn’t stop doing.

Overthinking.

It’s the way you looked his way with disappointed and concerned filled eyes whenever he messed up, the way his jaw clenched when you told him to do better, the way he couldn’t help but stare at your glossed up lips as you looked around his room, eyes settling on his childhood pictures which were framed.

It was also new to him to actually interact with people outside of his football team, especially girls. He couldn’t remember the last time he had talked to one. He wondered what was going on in your mind, he wondered if you were silently judging him through it all.

That’s all what people in his life did anyway.

“You were cute as a kid, what happened to you now?” You joked, chuckling as you looked his way, only to find his mouth slightly agape.

He hadn’t expected you to say that, and he certainly didn’t want to retort back with something that would ruin his mood, “I grew up to be hot is what happened to me,” he replied smoothly.

“Oh, so you do know how to joke around,” you raised your brows in surprise. It was indeed the image he had formed over the years. The image of him being nothing more than a rude jock who wouldn’t even reply to someone nicely.

Now that you were actually interacting with him, you were going to find out how many of the rumors were true about him.

He only leaned closer at your statement, you could see his muscles flexing as he rested one arm on the table in front of you both, “it’s not a joke, love. I am hot.”

You scoffed at the term of endearment, suddenly aware of his scent now that he was so close to you, “and egoistic too,” you helpfully added.

“Rightfully so.”

Your childish argument was interrupted that very second as the door to Jake’s room swung open, revealing the exact man you came to see.

Jaehyun was smiling, dressed in black slacks and a button up shirt as he welcomed you here, and you were quick to notice Jake’s mood turning fowl that very second.

“Thank you so much for coming here, Y/N. Let me send a few snacks and drinks for you both while you study,” he smiled, and you rushed up to stand, not even bothering about the pen that fell down as you did so.

“Jaehyun,” you walked up to him, much to Jake’s dismay, “oh, you don’t have to do anything,” you smiled sweetly, and he only shook his head softly, grabbing your arm.

“Don’t worry about it, just sit and relax, okay?” He squeezed your arm, going downstairs and you sighed with a smile. Even his scent was perfect to you.

“You done daydreaming?” Jake asked, deadpanning once his brother had left.

“You done solving the question?” You retorted.

He sighed, as if his energy was drained already, “yeah, just check and get this over with,” he said, handing you the binder and looking elsewhere.

It was probably the first time you actually paid attention to his dejected tone, as if he didn’t have the energy to fight back, and you obviously didn’t wish to irk him more, especially when he looked so frustrated right now. Thankfully, a lot of his answers were indeed correct, which was another surprise to you.

He was smart, he just simply didn’t wish to study.

“Something wrong?” He asked, cocking his brow and you blinked, “you’re actually not as dumb as you portray yourself to be,” you mumbled, checking everything thoroughly.

It should’ve been insulting to Jake per se, but even the slightest amount of approval was a big thing for him, causing the corner of his lips to curl up. He felt insane, the amount of emotions he felt in a single day was perhaps the reason for the same, courtesy of you.

He was glad Jaehyun didn’t enter the room again, sending in a servant staff to give you the snacks instead, which maintained the peace throughout the session.

You couldn’t help but notice how well he concentrated once there was silence in the room, your eyes focused on his hand gripping the pen, making it seem more veiny than it already was.

Also, you didn’t miss the hint of a smile ghosting his face when you told him he did a good job right before leaving, which made you think of a few things, one being—

He looked beautiful with a smile.

Chapter 4: You can’t read my mind, so read my lips.

As much as Jake loved the comfort of his room, he really wanted to avoid you bumping into Jaehyun again.

Even the thought of your interactions, your fake sweet smiles, made him wanna punch the wall. Jaehyun really had it easy and Jake never understood why, it was no joke that Jake was decent looking as well, talented in his own way, and a kind hearted person who just happened to have a protective wall around him so as to not get hurt any further.

Which is why you had been tutoring him in the library from the past ten sessions, his own personal request to avoid having privacy with you.

Heck, even Jake didn’t know it was his own mind trying to protect him, which is why he couldn’t let anyone in, anyone.

Which made this situation far from ideal as he had you pressed against the library wall, no distance between you both as you closed your eyes in pure distress.

“What the actual fuck is he doing here?” Your question was directed more to yourself, which confused Jake further.

He poked his tongue into his cheek, annoyance creeping through, “what the fuck is going on?” He asked.

“Shhh, not so loud,” you pressed your palm against his mouth, “just hide me.”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing your wrist effortlessly, pinning it above your head, “you don’t tell me what to do, yeah?” He mumbled, flustering you under his gaze before your eyes travelled back to where you were looking initially.

He sighed in annoyance, looking back at the direction of your supposed fear.

Lee Heeseung. Another of Jake’s football teammates.

“Why are you hiding from Heeseung,” he asked, brow raised as he leaned into you.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “he’s my ex, he shouldn’t even be in the library, he’s never here!” You were stressed and Jake smirked devilishly.

“Fucking hell, you’re the girl he keeps on stalking and crying about?” He chuckled, “let me call him,” he turned away for a second.

You used your free hand to grab his nape, “don’t fucking move,” you mumbled.

Perhaps you were too harsh with the grabbing, also not calculating the proximity enough, because Jake’s nose was brushing against yours, lips close to the point of touching, and a low groan escaping his lips as your name rolls out his tongue in the most angry grunt ever, “what the actual fuck are you doing?”

“J—just let him leave,” you mumbled, gulping and closing your eyes, his mint breath fanning your face as heat crept up your neck, up till your ears.

“What will I get out of it,” he asked, his free hand resting on your waist now, “why should I help you?”

“I’m literally helping you study, Jake,” you seethed out.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he groaned, making you open your eyes, staring into his deep ones now, suddenly feeling small under his gaze, and well, his body.

“What?” you asked, looking away to check if Heeseung had left, pushing Jake away the second you confirmed it.

Jake, however, wasn’t having any of it.

With a scoff and the shake of his head, he grabbed your wrist again, twisting it behind your back, not putting too much pressure so it just hurt but still made it clear how he would not let you go so easily, “you can’t run from me.”

“Let go, I fucking swear—” you let out, squirming around and pushing him, he didn’t budge at all sadly.

“You do realize I’m a lot stronger than you, right?” He chuckled.

“Fuck—what do you want me to do?” You rolled your eyes, jaw clenching as you looked at him.

Before he could answer, your eyes widened in fear yet again as you yanked his arm so forcefully, he had no chance to balance himself, a yelp leaving his mouth as you ran and he was following right after you.

Heeseung was back and you could just not deal with his ass anymore, hence the overwhelming response. Fight or flight? Flight for sure. Dragging Jake into it might be a stretch but hey, whatever helped you run away from the gremlin, right?

“Y/N,” Jake hissed yet again, once you stopped by your seat, gathering both yours and his belongings scattered across the table from when you were studying a few minutes back, before getting up to find a book, before seeing Heeseung roaming around the halls of the library.

It was quite amusing to Jake if he was being honest, a mix of feelings as you grabbed his wrist effortlessly yet again, your eyes set on the exit door leading to the parking lot where Jake’s Ferrari Purosangue stood proudly.

“Get in!” You screamed even though you were far from the threat (read: Heeseung) now.

“That’s my car in case you forgot—”

“Now.”

“So fucking annoying—” He grumbled, with a small smile playing on his lips.

You looked so bothered as if you were chased by Ghostface and not Heeseung, even though you probably wouldn’t run away from the prior. It was comical regardless, the long breath you exhaled once you were comfortable on his premium quality car seat, head leaned back fully.

You opened your eyes after a few seconds only to find Jake’s eyes on you, face curved into an amused look. You stared at one another for a second, two seconds, three seconds—and he burst out laughing.

It was probably the first time you saw him laugh like that—so freely, without any care in this world. It was loud but breathless, making his eyes crinkle with small crescents forming, his perfectly aligned pearly teeth showing as he went on, laughing at your disheveled state and crazy response to everything that happened the past twenty minutes.

You were calm and composed for the most part, it was rare for you to look this frustrated over anything, which came as a surprise to Jake, the whole situation seemingly pure comedy to him.

You observed him so carefully, your own lips twitching into a smile and before you knew it, you were laughing alongside him so normally as if two friends were laughing over a joke.

A weird sort of warmth spread over your body, it made no sense honestly, you were pinned to the wall just a few minutes back and Jake looked as if he’d burst into flames with his anger, and now he’s laughing at your disheveled, non-composed state.

Once Jake caught you staring back at him with glittering eyes, and a little smile, he froze. It was easy for him to come back to his senses (read: put his walls back up) which only made your smile drop too. It was awkward, both of you looking elsewhere while clearing your throats, definitely not something you expected.

“Uh—sorry about that, yeah,” you mumbled, playing with the loose threat of your sweater sleeve.

“Yeah, no problem,” he retorted, turning the car engine on to start driving.

Why was it awkward? Because you laughed together like two absolutely normal individuals? Because you had Jake pinning you to the wall to avoid your ex?

Or because you almost kissed. Almost.

The ride back to your apartment was silent, no songs playing in the car, just the small buzz of engine, and the nail tapping on the screen of your phone—to avoid any kind of conversation happening, also clearly missing out on how Jake glanced at you every few seconds, the speed of his thoughts running faster than his own car.

“I’ll—see you tomorrow then?” Your voice cracked as you said so, wincing slightly at your own tone.

Jake was about to chuckle again, yet he covered it with a low cough as he mumbled a yes, as you opened the door once he stopped in front of your apartment.

That’s it, you were leaving, and his eyes didn’t leave you till you disappeared into the apartment.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, groaning as he banged his head into it, a low horn sound only frustrating him further. It was hard for him to drive after, the scene of you being so vulnerable yet glaring at him like a scared little vixen trying to look brave, replayed in his mind.

No, he couldn’t drive, couldn’t focus on the road anymore, stopping the car at a random parking lot of a fast food chain, grabbing his phone to pull up Instagram, specifically Heeseung’s account.

He didn’t have to scroll much to find the picture he was looking for—his teammate, Heeseung, standing right next to you with his arm resting on your waist. Jake didn’t know why that picture left a bitter taste in his mouth all of a sudden, knowing well how badly Heeseung fucked up when he cheated on you.

And now the asshole is running after you again.

You didn’t deserve that, you deserve someone better—someone perfect like you.

He went back, not having it in him to look at the picture again, instead, going to your account now. It looked professional, all your posts being highly calculative to make your feed look pleasing. Your highlights, however, had this one particular picture—a picture of you smiling without a care in the world, so raw, so genuine, so beautiful.

Beautiful.

Jake thought you looked beautiful, and it made him angry.

He was angry—because deep down, he desired to be the reason for your smile.

Chapter 5: Pretty in pink, but my head’s in the dark.

Jake made you smile.

You did know that laugh was contagious, however, you didn’t think you’d actually give in to Jake’s sweet chuckles.

Sleep didn’t come to you easy when the constant reminder of the study session poked the back of your mind, not to mention what happened in the library earlier, where you and Jake almost kissed—

No.

You shook your head. Such niche experiences never falter you, so why was this such a big deal?

Another groan left your mouth, but alas, your body was relaxed enough to sleep so you woke up energetic the next day. It felt oddly friendly when you saw Jake at the University, and he threw a two finger salute your way, you waved back before going your way.

“You’re zoned out, again.” Karina, one of your classmates, pointed out and you sighed as she rambled about how you needed to let some guy in, quite literally, to blow off some steam, which you clearly weren’t doing, hence the stuck up energy.

Being descriptive about it didn’t help either—yet another reminder of how Jake’s body was pressed against yours this hour, yesterday.

Heat crept up your neck, urging you to pack up and leave the room. It was hot, stuffy almost for you to do anything, which is why you found yourself studying at the empty seat of the University park.

You had to face him again, of course, there was no escape to that, and as if the universe was testing you, the time passed by way too quickly for your liking and soon, you found yourself standing in front of the main door of Jake’s place.

Before you could even ring the bell, the door opened to a huffing Jake, almost as if he ran downstairs, but how did he know—

“Hey,” he whispered, looking around.

He didn’t wait for your reply, simply grabbing your wrist and dragging you inside, your skin burning at the unexpected touch, but you didn’t shake him off of you, only asking in a low tone, “what are you doing?”

“Shh,” Jake mumbled, as though he was trying to avoid someone, or rather, trying to hide you from someone. His efforts were futile, however, once he heard that stern voice of his mother booming through the walls of his mansion.

Now you get why Jake was in a hurry, the look on her face had a chill going down your spine.

You felt Jake stiffen alongside you, his hold on your wrist now tighter, uncontrollably so.

“You must be the new tutor for Jake,” she said, scrutinizing every bit of your existence, Jake’s jaw clenched at her unwavering gaze.

“Yes ma’am, It’s a pleasure meeting you,” you tried to say, only for her to cut you off.

“Trust me, darling. There must be no pleasure in helping Jake, but I do hope he learns a thing or two from you—you look like a smart young lady, hopefully, a positive influence on him.”

You looked at her with your mouth open slightly, not believing the sight in front of you. No mother should look down on their children like that, ever.

“Mrs. Jung, I hope we’re talking about the same Jake because he is amazing at studies, he grasps concepts faster than I do, and then I believe I’m the one who’s learning from him right now!” You smiled, full of enthusiasm, feeling Jake’s hand dropping down from your wrist.

“In fact, I’ve never seen anyone play football so perfectly while also being so brilliantly academically smart, I firmly believe his grades will shock you this time. Now, if you’ll excuse us, it’s time for our tutoring session.”

You passed her a small smile, the shock clear on her face, before grabbing Jake’s hand and taking him along with you—to his room. You didn’t look back, simply closing the door as you breathed out with a pissed expression.

Jake’s heart was beating fast, he wasn’t sure if he had words to speak at this moment, so staring at you was all he could do.

You spoke for him.

You defended him.

No one’s ever done that, no one cared enough to understand, moreover, it didn’t help how you looked angrier than him at the situation.

“W—Why?” Jake couldn’t keep his voice in check, “you didn’t have to—say all that.”

That’s when you turned around, facing him. All your anger disappeared once you focused on his face, so vulnerable, so confused, so desperate to know your answer.

“Jake,” the gentleness in your voice only made him gulp and look down at the floor, “I hope you don’t believe a word she says, because that’s not true,” you spoke, inching closer.

You were not one who was good at making people feel better, Jake of all people at that, however, this gave you an insight of why Jake is the way he is—closed off, hence the lack of words from your side, but you knew you had to say it.

That’s the thing, we judge people too quickly, you always had snarky remarks for him, not knowing how deep they cut him. He looked shaken right now, traumatized, especially because you experienced a part of his life which he never wanted to share with anybody.

“Jake, you’re doing so well, you know that right?” You whispered, as genuine as possible, your fingers grabbing his own, which made him look up at you finally.

He was shaken, not from his mother’s words—he was used to them—but from yours.

“No one’s ever said that,” he spoke so silently, you almost missed it. You held his hand tight—being almost angrier than him while answering his mom back—he isn’t sure if he’ll ever be over that.

Jake didn’t realize his eyes were glistening.

“What?” You breathed out.

He gulped yet again, jaw clenched now as he struggled to get his words out, the floor being the most interesting thing to him, “defended me. No one’s done that.”

“I—is that why you hate Jaehyun? Because people only see him?” You asked, wincing at the question when you saw him stiffen again, a sharp pang in your chest once he brushed your hand off of his.

“Don’t. Don’t fucking go there.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Oh I fucking know what you mean. Everyone sees him fuck—you see him, because he’s perfect, right? That’s what he is, perfect,” he seethed out, “you don’t know what it’s like—to live in someone’s shadow,” there was a flash of pain in his eyes.

You stayed mum, letting him speak.

“Every place, every room, every fucking person just sees him,” he muttered, “I need to be better, but it’s never enough, because he already did it—Jaehyun did it better. You look at him the same way as others do, and me? The afterthought—the failure.”

Your heart broke a little, guilt settling in because unknowingly, you fueled the same anger and trauma for him.

“Jake,” you mumbled, “you’re not a failure.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’m starting to,” you spoke, and he looked up, “and thank god you’re not Jaehyun,” you chuckled, fingers ghosting near his jaw, your touch featherlight, making him suck in a deep breath.

“Why?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, eyes hopeful, which scared him.

“Because you’re real, you don’t fake your emotions. You don’t smile at somebody who you don’t care about, you get angry, messy, you let yourself be shown how you are,” you lip twitched slightly as you said so, your own heartbeat rose at the sentences you so easily uttered, “that’s what makes you a human, Jake, a human who’s trying his best, which is what matters.”

He blinked.

He wanted to speak, but he couldn’t, simply leaning into your touch with his eyes closed.

“You’re you, the stupid jock who’s not scared of anything, yeah?” You tried to make him smile, which helped as you saw his lips curving up.

Midway through your sentences, you genuinely questioned yourself about why you even like Jaehyun, it was honestly just your mind playing games with you.

“You scare me,” he muttered.

“Why?”

“Because you say things so convincingly, it makes me wanna believe you.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Just—don’t say it when you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” you said in a breath, his eyes on yours now, more intense than ever, “I mean every word.”

He stared a little longer, staring at you unamused as if you’d laugh in his face right this second. You didn’t.

“You’re serious,” he said, voice hoarse.

You nodded softly.

Jake took a single step forward, the air around you so tight, it felt like a rubber band stretched to its max, on the verge of snapping back.

You inhaled sharply once Jake’s cold hand brushed the hair on your shoulder, grazing against your bare skin, moving up your nape.

“Do you have any idea what you just said to me?” He murmured, eyes locked on yours, turning you around easily to pin you against the wall—something he liked to do, apparently.

“Tell me,” you mumbled.

If someone told you two days back that you’d be in Jake’s room, calming him down before getting into a compromising position with him, you would have laughed in their faces. It was reality for you now, something that made you feel so unconventionally flustered.

The way he brushed his thumb along your jaw, slow and deliberate, made you shiver, “you’re making me forget that i’m supposed to hate this—feeling anything.”

You were hanging on the last bit of your sanity, drowning in Jake’s scent, his nose brushing against your cheek, hand gripping your waist, heat radiating off of your body.

“Jake—”

“Say it again,” he whispered.

“Say what?” You breathed.

“That you’re glad I’m not him.”

You chuckled under his hold, your voice still shaking, “I’m so glad—so fucking glad you’re not him.”

His breath sounded like a curse, lips hovering a breath above yours, you could feel his hesitation against your skin. He wasn’t sure if he had the right to touch someone as perfect as you, yet you didn’t stop him, the space in between you was so tight, it might as well elicit electricity.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, only leaning into his touch, resting your hand over the top of his on your jaw. The touch was faint, yet you could feel it everywhere.

You held your breath as he leaned in—

Knock.

Jake swore under his breath as you flinched, it physically hurt him to step back.

“Jake?” Of course, it was Jaehyun who had to interrupt you two.

Your hands trembled as Jake moved to the door, and you quickly turned towards the desk, rushing to sit down, pretending that nothing had happened—that you didn’t almost kiss Jake a few seconds back.

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes furious with a hint of daze in them. “Yeah?” His voice came out strained as he asked Jaehyun through the door.

“Mom wants to talk to you,” He said.

“Be right down,” he answered, shaking his head, staring at your way one last time, holding eye contact for a second, letting you see just how much he hated this situation, veins popping in his neck.

Then he opened the door, closing it behind him and disappearing from your eyesight.

You stayed there, overwhelmed, lips tingling, pulse racing.

A truth burned your skin in an excruciating pain.

If he had kissed you, you wouldn’t have stopped him.

Chapter 6: I can go from A to Z, but U is what I want.

Jake hadn’t texted you all night.

Not that you waited, except, you did.

He never came back to the room after Jaehyun called him out, you waited, till you couldn’t anymore and had to rush out before your mind drove you to the edge of insanity.

So you grabbed your bag, rushing to the first place you thought of—the courtyard behind the Science block. It was calm, no student in sight, thankfully.

Your five minutes of calm ended a second too quickly, a voice calling out your name in its full glory. You cursed the universe for treating you like this and you didn’t have to turn around to figure out who it was.

Heeseung.

“I gotta admit, I didn’t peg you to fall for the broken type.” He stepped out smiling as insane as a villain who hasn’t moved on does.

“Still stalking me?” You rolled your eyes, “get a fucking job.”

“I call it being invested,” he smirked, shoving hands in his pockets, “it’s honestly a downgrade, going from me to Jake.”

“Not again,” you muttered, grabbing your book which you had just taken out.

“I mean, trading me for Jake?” Voice full of pity.

“As if you were an option, Heeseung,” you turned sharply.

That shut him up for half a second.

“I just don’t get it,” he said, voice colder now. “He’s always angry, I was angry, I made you feel something, can he say the same?”

Your head was hurting by now, as you mumbled yet another shut up, only to be stopped by Heeseung as he grabbed your arm.

“What? He’s the angry, tortured type. You’re into hopeless projects now?”

“I’m into honesty,” you snapped, “something you don’t offer.”

“What does he have that I don’t?”

“Self awareness maybe,” a voice came from behind you, low, cold, almost lethal.

Jake was here.

“Let go of her,” he said, dead-eyed, he was ready to snap.

And Heeseung did, a scoff leaving his mouth before he smirked, “great, speak of the devil.”

Jake raised his brow, “you done?”

Heeseung chuckled, “not even close.”

You sighed, “of course not,” this day couldn’t get worse.

“You really think this is love or whatever?” He said, looking at Jake but his words were directed to you instead, “he’s gonna burn you someday, and you’re gonna let him.”

Oh god, you were not having any of this, why was this conversation even happening? It made absolutely no sense.

Jake moved faster this time, but you blocked his chest with your arms, “enough,” you said sharply.

“Ask him to leave.” Jake said, voice low.

“Heeseung, just leave,” you said, turning to him.

But he didn’t, and so Jake did, shoving past you as you rolled your eyes, Heeseung’s sinister smile only widening, getting so close to him, he had to lean back slightly.

“Don’t test me, and don’t come near her again, or else I won’t be this patient.” Jake spoke.

“Aw? You’re gonna hit me in front of her, Jake?”

“I don’t need to, she already cut you deeper than I ever could.”

Heeseung stilled once, clenching his jaw, before turning to you, maintaining eye contact, “she’s not your girl, Jake.”

“You don’t know that,” he gritted his teeth.

“You’ll come back,” Heeseung’s jaw ticked as he said so.

“Hold your breath until I do,” you replied.

That was it, he left. It wasn’t silent, nor dramatic, but with enough tension to let you know that he will be coming back.

Once he was gone, you shoved Jake, hard.

“The fuck was that?”

“What? I came here trying to find you, only to witness you talking to him.”

“I didn’t want it to happen either, but the world hates me,” you mumbled, grabbing your bag and walking away with Jake following you behind.

“I fucking hate that he still gets to talk to you, why does he have access to you?” His voice rose and you prayed no one would hear him, thankfully this area was empty.

“He doesn’t, and why do you even care?” You asked, with distress clear on your face, “pretending like I mean something to you in front of Heeseung is just as worse, Jake.”

“I—”

“No, you won’t even talk about last night, as if it didn’t happen,” you snapped and he froze, “you didn’t even come back to your room.”

His silence was your answer, and you knew this conversation wasn’t gonna go any further, Jake couldn’t do that—he was scared of opening up, and he was scared of answering those questions, so even though you were hurting on the inside, you let him be.

“Tomorrow, library, at five. Be on time.” You mumbled, leaving him behind you.

“Fuck—fuck!” Jake punched the wall next to him. He didn’t want you to go—the first person who ever tried to understand him, took his side, defended him. He was beyond scared of letting his guard down, so he groaned, sliding down the wall.

“How do I even tell you I want you?”

Chapter 7: I know that I’m hard to read, but you got me here to stay.

The library was too quiet for how loud your mind was. The sound of your pen dragging across the paper felt almost intrusive as you tried to finish your assignment.

It had been three nights since the library fiasco.

Two nights since the almost kiss.

One night since the blow up with Heeseung.

You almost didn’t wish to come here, yet here you were, with the sample test papers ready, clad in your little black skirt, a cardigan too loose for you, waiting for Jake to show up—hoping he would.

The clock ticked. He was a solid nineteen minutes late now, another minute and you’ll get up to leave. That’s when you heard the lazy footsteps approaching your side, the farthest corner of the library. You expected him to sit in front of you, yet he opted to sit right next to you, so close you could feel the fabric of his jeans brushing against your thigh. He took a seat without permission, like he had the right to be, like nothing had happened.

He came in like guilt personified, shoulders hunched, hoodie loose, hair an unbrushed mess of indecision. And when he saw you?

He hesitated.

You didn’t look up, simply sliding him the sheet of questions to solve, the air around you turned weighted. His pen scratched, your leg bounced, you sipped water and he watched the corner of your mouth, practically burning holes into you.

It was unbearable.

This tension—it’s not a war but there’s rarely ever any peace. Catherine and Heathcliff reincarnated, except you weren’t on a moor, you were in a library, trying not to fall apart across the wooden study table.

Just yesterday, he burned through Heeseung like jealousy was oxygen.

He couldn’t stop staring, yet he solved the questions for forty minutes, sliding the sheet back to you for checking, expecting some sort of conversation now, anything, even a little hum of acknowledgement from your side, but none of it happened.

He watched you scribble your pen over the margin, circling a few things, ticking the others, lip bitten in concentration. He observed you so intensely, how your eyes flicked across his answer sheet, but you didn’t look his way, not even once.

“You won’t even talk to me now?” He asked, keeping his voice in check.

“Four answers wrong, you did pretty well, can do better still,” you mumbled, passing him the paper.

“Y/N,” he sighed, tired, he was afraid of this happening—letting you down, and that’s exactly what he did. Running away from his problems was what Jake always did, he wasn’t perfect, he knows it, but he wants to try and be better, better for you.

“You came late,” you said, still not looking up.

“I didn’t sleep last night,” he exhaled, jaw clenched as if trying to control his words.

“Not my problem,” you retorted.

“I was thinking.”

“You should study instead.”

“You hate me now, huh?” Jake leaned forward, voice flat.

You blinked. The question hit out of nowhere.

“I don’t hate you,” you replied carefully. “But I don’t know how to deal with you either.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No, Jake. It’s the truth. And that’s more than you’ve been giving me.”

He looked at you then, really looked—eyes narrowed, like he was keeping a war behind them, trying his best not to show his emotions. His eyes were empty, yet so full of you, you being the only person he wanted to see.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said, quietly. “I don’t know how to be—good at this, with you, I’ve never done this before.”

“And yet you’re good at disappearing. You’re good at leaving me hanging like none of it mattered, Jake. Even a text would have made it better, just one text.”

You weren’t yelling. You didn’t need to. Your disappointment was louder than any raised voice.

Jake sat back in his chair, breathing shallow. “You kissed me back.”

Your throat tightened, “you didn’t kiss me at all.”

“Exactly,” he muttered. “Because I would’ve ruined it. Ruined you.”

You shook your head slowly. “No, Jake. You didn’t kiss me because you’re scared of how much you actually want to.”

His fingers were now balled into fists. “And you’re not?”

“We’re not talking about me.” You looked away.

He scoffed, turning to look at you fully, leaning in with his hand now resting on your thigh, burning the skin with his touch.

“You want honesty, huh? So here it is—I’ve been thinking about you, about everything that’s happened in the past few days, no one’s ever messed with my mind so much and it fucking scares me. You’re messing me up—”

You couldn’t hear more, not when he was so close, not when he poured his heart out to you. Nothing about you two was normal, even your heartbeat was synced with how abnormally high they were.

“Shh,” you mumbled, covering his mouth with your palm, and even the rude gesture calmed him down—your touch calmed him down.

“You have an exam tomorrow.” You said and he stared, “study, pass the exam, and we’ll talk, yeah?”

He blinked, almost as if you showed him mercy, and gave him a chance to do something, to prove that he’s worthy of being near you. His scholarship, football, future—everything was at stake, but did he care? No. He cared about not letting you down. He wanted to prove himself to you.

“You—you promise?” He asked, gripping the extra sheets and notes you passed his way.

You nodded, eyes softer now. You didn’t wanna hurt Jake, you could see just how hard he tried to fight with his demons, but this time, you wanted him to win.

“I’ll be waiting.”

You turned to leave then, leaving Jake with his thoughts as he watched you leave, eyes on your legs. He gulped, looking back to the paper to find a line scribbled in your handwriting.

You already know the answer, you’re just afraid of getting it wrong.

It wasn’t about the question, it was about him.

He just wanted to be worthy enough to stand in front of you and say I didn’t fuck this up this time. So he started, he worked all night, solved as many sample problems as he could, everything felt like a punch in the gut but he couldn’t give up, not this time.

Jake couldn’t sleep at night,

I’ll be waiting.

That’s what you told him, and he was looking forward to it, because for the very first time in his life, someone wasn’t waiting for him to fail.

He woke up before his alarm had the chance to ring, didn’t care about his mother’s remark on how he woke up on time for once, or how Jaehyun gave him a long, unreadable look. Jake didn’t react, he had bigger problems to tackle today.

You were just as restless as him if not more, checking your phone every few minutes as if you’d get any text from Jake. He must be busy studying, you hope that was the case.

He walked into the exam hall calm, focused, terrified. He didn’t skip questions. He didn’t zone out.

He solved the final problem two minutes before time and rechecked every line like his life was hidden in the margins.

When he walked out of that room, his shirt clinging to the back of his neck from sweat, his palms aching from gripping the pen too hard—he knew. He’d done it. Or at least, he hoped he did.

Yet, he didn’t text you, he wouldn’t until he got the results.

Chapter 8: Jealousy is but a red thread around my throat.

You waited, not loud, but silently.

Two whole days, you held your breath, even planned on visiting the football practice to just get a glimpse of Jake, yet you couldn’t muster enough courage to do so. God, you were so affected by everything he did, and this felt so very suffocating, waiting on someone. You knew what you felt, there was no point in denying it, however, you couldn’t figure out how it happened, so quickly at that.

Heck, even Jaemin was more present in your chat inbox, even though you never replied to him, it just made you wonder if your time with Jake was just a hoax.

Did you imagine it all?

On the other hand, on the other side of the city, sitting in a dim room with sunlight pouring in, Jake was drowning in darkness.

The exam portal was open in front of him, he refreshed the page every two seconds, not being able to sit still. His hands were shaking, not from fear but from want. From the feeling of your voice telling him that you’ll talk to him once he proves himself.

He gave up the wait, the result wasn’t out the whole day. It was three in the morning when the notification woke him up like a jolt.

Results were out.

He rushed to check it, the numbers stunning him as his jaw hung open.

83%

Not perfect. But more than enough.

Enough to pass. Enough to stay on the team.

Enough to say, Look. I did it. I’m not a fuck-up. The first thing he thought of was you. So he typed—just two words.

Jake: I passed.

Because he didn’t know how to say what he really wanted to—I passed, and all I could think about was your voice. I passed, and I still don’t feel whole unless you tell me you’re proud. I passed, and it’s not enough if I can’t show you.

Your reply came back six minutes later.

You: I knew you would.

It was soft, gentle. But was it enough for Jake? No. It should’ve been enough, but it wasn’t.

He didn’t reply, he didn’t text you again. He opted to skip the lectures for the day and stay in his room, blinds closed, only darkness consuming him.

You knew it was hard for Jake, you knew you shouldn’t wait for his reply or him approaching you—he was too scared to do that, which is exactly why you grabbed your bag and went to his place the first thing in the morning. Maybe Jake needed time, but you had to check.

You rang the bell, your heart pounding as you did so, expecting Jake to open up and see you. Once the door opened, your pulse stuttered.

Jaehyun.

Of course, it had to be him.

“Y/N,” he said your name smoothly, “didn’t know you were coming by.”

You hesitated with a small chuckle, exhaling the breath you were holding, “is Jake home?”

He nodded, stepping aside to let you in, “yeah, he’s in his room, didn’t come out this morning at all.”

“Oh,” you said softly, wondering if he was alright.

There was a pause, an awkward silence after that, you felt heavy, wanting to go upstairs but you weren’t sure if you were allowed to.

Jaehyun closed the door behind you. “He’s been off since the results,” he said, voice low. “I thought passing would help, but I don’t know. He kind of shut down again after telling us he passed.”

You gulped, chest tightened at the revelation.

“I came to check up on him, I’m not sure if he wants to meet though.”

“He’d want to see you.” Jaehyun said, smiling sincerely, “you’re good for him.”

Your eyes widened at that, “I’m not sure he thinks that.” You tried to smile, “can I go to his room?”

“He locked the door, I think he’s sleeping,” Jaehyun said apologetically.

“I don’t wanna bother him.” You smiled sadly, “those are good pictures,” you mumbled, looking at the wall full of frames, particularly the ones with Jake in them.

“Yeah, I took most of those,” Jaehyun replied with another smile, he knew you wanted to talk to Jake so he suggested something, “Maybe if you take him something to eat? I can give the breakfast he skipped—”

“Oh no, I can run to the bakery and get something—”

Then you noticed a movement in your peripheral vision, you turned around to find Jake. He was standing down the hall, his fluffy hair a mess, eyes wide as if he didn’t expect you to be here—especially with Jaehyun.

“Hey,” you breathed out.

No reply.

“Y—you didn’t reply, I came to see you,” you tried speaking again.

However, his expression didn’t change and suddenly, you felt like you shouldn’t have come here at all. He was frozen even when you said you wanted to make sure he was okay. Then he came back to his senses, clearing his throat.

Jaehyun left the room, letting you two be alone.

“Why didn’t you ask for me?” He whispered, just sadness in his voice.

“I did, that’s what I came for,” you tried to explain.

Jake stared at you, he was so broken inside he couldn’t let himself believe it. You dressed up, all pretty, your eyes so soft, your lips turning into a pout of disappointment. You looked perfect, and you came here for Jake? He just could not believe it.

“You were talking to him,” Jake said, referring to Jaehyun, his voice broken.

“He opened the door, what can I do?” You shook your head, trying to explain, “you didn’t even text back, Jake.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he replied, “I’ve never done this before, I’ve never had someone wait for me and mean it.”

Your lips parted to reply but he wasn’t done.

“You said you’d talk to me after the exam,” he went on, voice sharper now, “but when you showed up, you let him open the door. You let him tell you how I was.”

“I didn’t—” your voice faltered, “I didn’t come for him.”

“Didn’t look that way.”

That hurt. You flinched. “Jake, why are you doing this?”

“Because I waited for you,” he snapped. “I sat in that room like a fucking idiot thinking you’d come to see me. Not make small talk with my brother or compliment his photography.”

“You heard that?” You froze, it wasn’t your intention to do any of that.

“I heard everything, every second you spent without taking my name,” he said.

Just like that—he hurt you. Every conversation was about Jake, every single one. He just couldn’t see it.

“I thought I was getting better,” he admitted, quieter now. “I thought passing the exam would mean something. That it would be enough.”

“It was,” you whispered. “Jake, it is. I am proud of you.”

“Then why didn’t it feel like it?” His voice broke on that line. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing a step away, then back, like his own body was a prison.

You stood frozen. Every word hit somewhere different.

“I wanted you to come,” he said, softer now. “Not to check in. Not to ask if I’d eaten. I wanted you to come for me. Just for me. You don’t get it, Y/N.”

“No,” you stepped forward. “You don’t get it. You think everything is about being chosen or abandoned. But not everyone’s trying to leave you, Jake. Sometimes people show up. But you keep slamming the door in their face.”

He turned away. “Then go.”

“I came for you.” You said one last time, your eyes watering, not being able to contain the hurt you held in them.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have.”

That one landed like a punch.

Your mouth opened. Then closed. You nodded. Just once.

“Fine.”

You turned.

And you left.

And this time, he didn’t stop you.

Chapter 9: I know that I’m hard to read, but you got me here to stay

You spent most of your morning crying alone in your student council room, but it just wasn’t enough, not when you were being wronged every second of the day, not when the person you wanted kept running away from you no matter how hard you tried. At least you did.

You couldn’t run away though, you had an important meeting with your council at six in the evening, by that time, you had done everything to make yourself look normal again, but your mind was entirely elsewhere, in another realm, a realm where things were different.

Jake, on the other hand, left his room as soon as he realized how wrong everything had gone. All afternoon his own words replayed in his mind, how he asked you to leave and how you left a single tear drop on the floor before you turned around and left.

Maybe you shouldn’t have.

It felt like biting into something rotten, saying that out loud to you. Like watching the one and the only thing he wanted turn and walk away. You didn’t yell back, you didn’t beg, you went still, and left. He saw you leave—he made you leave.

And he let you go anyway. Because that’s what he did. Because pushing people away was easier than asking them to stay.

Until now.

Now he was pacing in his room like a caged animal, hoodie still damp, heart in his throat. He kept hearing your voice in the hallway. Kept seeing your face. Kept remembering the way you reached for him and he didn’t reach back.

His chest felt tight, his limbs tense. He couldn’t stay here, not in this house, not knowing you might never come back.

He had to find you.

So he ran. He ran to the courtyard, not caring about the rain pour, soaking him up from head to toe. You weren’t in the library, not in the council room, the classrooms were empty. He was panicking.

That’s when he heard a voice, turning around the corner of the athletic department, he walked straight into one of his football teammates he couldn’t stand at all—Minjae, a loud-mouthed asshole, smiling like a madman.

“Fucking hell, Lee Jake, you look like shit.” He grinned.

Jake didn’t answer, he was in a hurry, he had to find you, to make things right with you, he was about to push past Minjae when—

“Oh, by the way,” he smirked, “Heeseung told us a lot about how you finally landed his ex, the pretty goody two shoes, Y/N.”

Jake froze, jaw clenched at the mention of you and Heeseung in the same sentence, coming from an asshole at that.

“Didn’t think you’d have a go at someone like her. She seems to like guys who have more brains than biceps.” He laughed at his own joke.

“The fuck did you just say?”

Minjae laughed. “Chill, man. I’m just saying—props to you, seriously. Girl like that? All polished and pretty and loyal? I mean, not that it’ll last. Girls like that don’t stay with guys like us. She’ll figure it out eventually.”

Jake’s vision turned black.

“Say that again,” he said, voice like static.

Minjae raised his hands. “Relax. You don’t need to get all—”

The punch landed before he could finish.

Minjae hit the ground hard, water splashing up from the impact, the rain pouring down heavier now. He tried to shove Jake back, but to no avail as he bent down, his fist colliding with Minjae’s jaw again.

Jake wasn’t fighting Minjae per se, he was fighting every single voice that told him he wasn’t enough, that he could never live up to his brother, that he could never be with someone as perfect as you. That’s what he believed too, till you actually became real for him.

His mind was elsewhere when he took a blow to his jaw, lip bleeding now, Jake stumbled but scoffed before punching him again, and again, till his knuckles were shredded, a throbbing in his jaw which almost felt like fire.

It was only when someone pulled him off of Minjae, Jake stopped, spitting out blood in the rain slick grass. Everything hurt, but not as much as his burning chest.

“Are you insane?” Someone yelled his way, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jake didn’t bother answering, pulling out his phone and rushing away, typing out texts to you.

Jake: where are you? please say something i’m so fucking sorry Y/N i didn’t mean it i didn’t mean any of it i swear Y/N please

No response. His messages were just there, unread, and unanswered. He simply didn’t know why.

He didn’t know how you had been in the private meeting room for the past hour, student council prep being a whole scheduling disaster, handling arguments about clubs and their out-of-the-worldly budget demands.

You were half awake at best, distracted by the storm that brewed outside. Your phone vibrates once, then again, and when you finally pull it out to check the numerous missed calls—your screen goes dark. Perfect, just on the day you didn’t bring your charger or powerbank.

The feeling in your gut—it wasn’t good, which is why you excused yourself mid meeting, something you never do, to rush back home. You were soaked as you ran to your apartment, close to the University, thankfully. You plugged your phone in to charge as you rushed to take a shower, hoping the hot water would soothe your nerves. It didn’t.

You kept thinking about Jake, about the fight at his place earlier, how he asked you to leave with the saddest look in his eyes, and how badly it hurt you. You were out of the shower in fifteen minutes, toweling your hair with one hand and rushing to check your phone with the other, not expecting a myriad of notifications.

17 Missed calls.

6 Voicemails.

26 Unread texts.

The last of which made your blood run cold.

Jake: Y/N please i’m outside

You rushed to the front door, and he was there—leaning against the wall beside your entrance, hoodie clinging to him, hair wet and plastered to his forehead, eyes closed and him wincing like he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. Like it hurts too much to exist. Hands bruised, lip split, and he opened his eyes—bloodshot, glassy.

“Jake,” you gasped out loud, “w—what happened?” You said, going close to him.

“I tried to find you,” he said, voice wrecked, “I tried but I couldn’t, I thought that maybe you blocked me.”

“No—I was in a meeting and my phone died, god I’m so sorry—fuck, come inside.” You shook your head in distress.

“Y/N,” he groaned, and you gently helped him when he didn’t move, like he wasn’t allowed to, “I fucked up.”

“Shh, come inside, it’s cold,” you whispered and he nodded after a moment of hesitation. You tried to be calm, you tried to take control of the situation for once and he listened, this time he did when you took him to your room.

You didn’t ask how this happened to him, only guiding him to the bathroom, “you’re soaked and bleeding, take a shower, i’ll put your clothes in the wash and dryer.”

He opened his mouth to say otherwise, but you didn’t let him, grabbing a fresh towel and handing it to him.

“Are you sure you want me here?” He asked, vulnerable.

“I wouldn’t have opened the door otherwise, Jake, I do.”

He nodded, swallowing hard as he disappeared into the bathroom without another word and you worked your washing machine and dryer, sitting down right after, exhaling and letting your guard down, hands shaking with worry.

You were glad Jake was taking his sweet time inside, because you had no clue how to go on with this situation. Jake stalling coming out simply because he was ashamed, also consumed in how good your shampoo smells. He was at your place, in your bathroom, all bloodied up, why? Because he couldn’t be normal for once and let you in.

His walls came crashing down each time you came closer to him, but this time, he didn’t want them to go back up the second he touched you, this time, he wanted you inside with him.

His clothes were dry very soon and you kept them in your room, waiting outside by the sofa, letting him come out all dressed up. The water stopped soon, the door creaking as he came out, and you were sitting on the sofa, hair still wet.

Then Jake opened the door, you stood up at the noise, and he looked your way in a silent plea to ask you if he could sit next to you, and you nodded. He held up the bloodied towel, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and you smiled softly, taking it away from him.

The silence was too loud after as you both sat next to each other, you waited for him to say something, waited for the reality of tonight to settle in—to make sense, to stop trembling beneath your skin. And then he spoke as you took out your medicine kit, gently grabbing his hand to take a look at his bruised knuckles.

“Y/N,” he took your name as if it was the only thing he knew.

He watched you kneel in front of him, your eyes not angry, just steady, quiet, and unbearably kind. His fingers trembled in yours, you gently pulled the sleeve back, pressing a warm damp cloth to the wounds, making him wince slightly at the contact.

“Sorry,” you breathed out.

“I deserve worse,” he breathed back.

“No, you don’t,” you said, looking up at him.

He laughed under his breath, “why are you so kind to me? I don’t deserve it, Y/N.”

“You don’t get to decide what I give you, Jake,” you replied, “you’re bleeding, again.”

“Not my first time.”

You gripped him tighter, “and that’s supposed to make it better?”

“No,” he said, voice low, “just means I’m good at it by now.”

You didn’t answer. Just ripped the antiseptic packet open a little more forcefully than necessary and pressed it to the bruised line of his knuckles. He flinched.

“Good,” you muttered. “Means you still feel something.”

“God, Y/N—”

“No,” you snapped, trying your best to act normal but you both were far from that, “not yet.”

You cleaned the split in his skin with the kind of precision that only comes from anger—controlled, careful, but deeply furious.

“You don’t get to act like none of this mattered,” you said, eyes locked on his wounds. “You don’t get to disappear into your guilt and then show up bleeding and say I didn’t know where else to go. That’s not enough.”

His jaw clenched. “I didn’t come for a reward.”

“Good,” you said coldly. “Because you’re not getting one.” You wrapped gauze around his hand slowly, tight enough that it would sting.

He didn’t pull away.

“I came because I thought I’d lose you,” he said through his teeth, “I came because I’m fucking terrified that I already did.”

“Who’s fault is that?” You said, standing up, “you keep doing this thing, you pull me in, let me see you and then the very second it gets real, you shut the door in my face.”

“I know,” he said. Loud. Frustrated. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t see the way you look at me when I say the wrong thing? Like you’re trying so fucking hard not to walk away?”

“You told me to go!”

“I didn’t mean it!”

“Then don’t say it!” You shouted, “don’t look at me like I’m everything one second and then act like I mean nothing the next!”

“I didn’t think you’d stay.”

“I stayed!”

You were both breathing hard now. Staring at each other like you didn’t know whether to cry or kiss or throw something, You still stood in between Jake’s legs, him looking up at you. Jake ran a hand through his damp hair, pacing a few feet before turning back to you, eyes wide and glassy.

“I ruin things,” he said, “I always have. I don’t know how to love something without fucking it up. But I wanted you anyway—I still do.”

Your throat tightened. “And I’m supposed to what? Carry all of that? Be your exception?”

“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I just need you to see that I’m trying. Even if it’s ugly. Even if I’m bleeding and loud and afraid. I need you to see me, and stay anyway.”

You stared at him.

He looked like someone who hadn’t slept in days. Someone who’d gone through hell and walked straight into another fire because you were at the center of it.

Your voice cracked, “you don’t make it easy.”

“I know.”

You looked down at your hands—his blood still faintly on your fingertips. He reached out slowly. You didn’t move. Not when his fingers curled around your wrist. Not when he pulled you in his lap, not when his forehead leaned into yours like he was holding on for dear life.

“I hate that I hurt you,” he whispered. “But I’d rather burn with you than freeze without you.”

“I wasn’t gonna leave, Jake.”

“I know.”

“Then why—”

“Because I’m sick,” he said suddenly. “Sick of being the one who’s always too much. Too angry. Too wrong. I get one thing right—one fucking exam—and even then I screw it up by throwing a punch at someone who talks shit about you and then picking a fight with the only person who’s ever actually looked at me like I could be more.”

Your breath hitched. You grabbed the gauze, wrapped it around his hand. Tighter than needed.

“Then be more, Jake.”

He stared at you.

“Be more,” you repeated, “because I’m tired of being in love with someone who’s so determined to hate himself.”

That silenced him. Fully. Until he spoke again.

“You’re in love with me?”

The words dropped like a bomb between you.

You froze. Swallowed. Refused to take it back, chuckling to yourself at how easily you let go and told him that, “yeah—god help me, I am.”

Then you tried to move back, only his arms wrapped around your waist tighter, holding you in place, “you don’t get to say that and walk away.” He growled.

“Who said I’m walking away?” You mumbled, holding onto his shoulder for support.

It was unreal, how close you guys were but still not close enough, it was never enough.

“You’re mad at me,” Jake stated.

“I should be mad.”

“I’m mad too,” he added.

“Good,” you rolled your eyes, trying to move again.

But he didn’t let you, not this time, his thumb brushing your cheek.

That was it. That was when Jake finally let go. He couldn’t delay this anymore, not again, not when you were right in front of him, not when your soft lips brushed so tenderly against his bruised ones, not when you told him you were in love with him—not when he knew he had to have you.

He surged up and into you—hands gripping your face, mouth pressing against yours like it was the only way to breathe. It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t neat, it was everything you’d been holding back.

Lips slotted together, you could taste blood on your tongue from where he was hurt before, which only made you groan into the kiss, he was frustrated, so frustrated, not having it in him to let go for even a second.

You gasped, arms flying up to clutch at his shoulders, pressed chest-to-chest, his body was warm—too warm—and you could feel his tension in every line.

You broke the kiss first, panting, eyes wide. “You shouldn’t—” you tried to say, especially when his body was hurting.

“I have to,” he breathed, leaning in again. “Let me, just once. Please.”

You didn’t stop him, grabbing his nape and pulling him into you once again, because when Jake kissed you again, it felt like pain, penance, and pleasure all in one. It was as if he was trying to earn your forgiveness with his mouth, trying to pour out everything he couldn’t say to you, groaning into your mouth when your hips shifted over his lap.

“I fucking—” He said midway the kiss, “god I—”

You shushed him gently, “you don’t have to say it.”

“I love you,” he breathed out, forehead pressed against yours, eyes earnest and full of life for the first time since you saw him, “I don’t care if it’s too early, I can’t fucking not say it, I love you, I—”

Before he could ruin the moment with the spiral in his throat, before he could pull back in fear, you pressed your lips against his like it was the only thing anchoring you to the earth.

He responded like he’d been starving. Mouth hot, desperate, hands gripping your waist like the world was falling apart and he only had seconds left to memorize you. The kiss was brutal in the way it made you feel, there was no choreography to it, no elegance—just lips, teeth, breath, and aching hunger.

His mouth was swollen. Your lips, bruised from how much he kissed you like he didn’t know how to stop.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed.

You stared at him. “I don’t want you to.”

Then you grabbed his jaw once you heard him wince, “does it hurt?” You asked, pecking his jaw, trailing kisses all over.

“It’s the only thing that doesn’t hurt,” he whispered, letting your lips take over, tracing every bit of his face and neck, his eyes closing with the fire that you ignited within him.

“This feels like a dream,” he whispered.

“It’s not.”

“But it could be,” he added, almost to himself. “You—like this, in my lap, in your apartment, touching me like I’m not a monster.”

You cupped his face again, guiding his eyes to yours, “you’re not a monster, Jake.”

“You don’t know the things I’ve thought.”

“Then tell me.”

His voice cracked, “I thought I’d die if I didn’t see you again. I thought that maybe I’m already ruined and maybe I don’t deserve you but I can’t stop loving you anyway. I thought—”

You kissed him again. Slow this time. Deep and aching, “then stop thinking,” you whispered, “just be here—with me.”

His fingers trembled as they curled into the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?”

You nodded.

He pulled the fabric up carefully, reverently, and you helped him, raising your arms until it was off. His breath hitched. Not because of how you looked—but because he was looking at you like that.

Like something sacred.

You grabbed the back of his hoodie, tugging. He hesitated for a split second before pulling it over his head. The sight made your breath catch.

His torso was littered with bruises, some dark purple, some already fading yellow. His ribcage dipped where the muscle was taut with tension. You reached out, fingertips grazing over a particularly harsh mark near his side.

He flinched. “That one’s from earlier.”

Your jaw clenched, “you shouldn’t fight because of me.”

“I wasn’t,” he said, “I was fighting every voice in my head that said I wasn’t worth your love.”

You kissed the bruise.

He gasped.

“I hate that they ever made you feel like that.”

His hands slid back up to your sides, lips brushing your jaw. “You make it go quiet.”

“I want to,” you whispered.

Your kisses grew slow again, heavier with emotion than desire. You could feel his heartbeat where your chest pressed into his, your hands in his hair, his head tilted just enough to deepen the kiss. You rolled your hips slightly in his lap, and he groaned again, burying his face in your neck.

“Fuck, Y/N—”

“Jake,” you murmured, your nails dragging softly along his back, “look at me.”

He lifted his head. His eyes—wild, glassy, full of everything he couldn’t say.

“I love you,” you said again. “I’m not afraid of it. So don’t be either.”

He leaned forward, pressing your foreheads together.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.”

“You’re so fucking pretty, did I ever tell you that?” He mumbled against the skin of your neck, brushing his lips all over before placing open mouthed kisses over the expanse of your clavicle, “so fucking pretty.”

Jake wasn’t gentle anymore, not when he’d been craving your presence, craving you. He couldn’t help but treat you like a reward, like he finally had won the only thing in life that actually mattered to him.

He was quick to grab your waist and flip you over, getting on top of you on the couch that was too small for things he had planned in his mind. It was almost like a dam breaking the way his mouth was on your neck, biting, sucking, claiming you.

“Jake—” you mumbled, your back arching as you felt his body pressing into you, fingers wrapped around his wet locks as he marked your skin with every ounce of desperation he had, his fingers mapping out every inch of your body as if he’s afraid he’d forget it—as if he could ever forget anything about you.

The warmth of his hands brushed over your bra clad nipples, a whimper leaving your mouth. Jake wasn’t undressed yet you could feel him getting hard, and god you wondered just how big he was, grinding into you as if he was already inside your cunt.

“I hurt you so fucking much,” Jake mumbled, lips ghosting over your tit, “now I’ll hurt you in the way you want me to,” he said with dark eyes, yanking your bra down enough for your nipples to show, latching his mouth to you all in light speed.

All his life Jake couldn’t take control of anything, but seeing you shiver under him just made sense to Jake, he had to take control—he had to make you feel so good, you wouldn’t ever look at anyone else.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you whispered, already disheveled with how needy you were, wetness pooling in your panties, soiling the new pair you had put on not too long ago.

“Yeah? You drive me crazy, baby,” he chuckled, and that sound went straight to your pussy. Jake was hot, so fucking hot, but him using nicknames on you with his deep tone—only god knows how you would survive this.

You bit your lip to conceal your moans, which only infuriated Jake, biting your nipple harshly to make sure you scream, “don’t fucking hide your pretty voice,” he said.

His hands went to your other breast and he gave it a tight squeeze, your eyes were on him as you watched his lips parting, letting his tongue make contact with the tip of your very hardened nub. He bites down on your nipple, making you cry out, but quickly soothes it with his tongue before switching to the other side, he wants to drive you wild with pleasure, to possess every inch of your body.

Lost in the haze of pleasure, you surrender yourself completely to Jake’s possessive touches, letting him have his way with you. The room fills with the sounds of your moans and his desperate sucking, a symphony of carnal desire. In this moment, there is nothing but you and Jake, and the burning hunger that consumes you both.

Jake’s hands roam across your body, his touch electric against your skin. He grabs your hips, pulling you flush against him as he claims your lips in yet another searing kiss, tongue delving into your mouth, hot and hungry, making you more hungry for his touch—for him.

“I—can’t,” you whimpered, wanting more of him.

Jake chuckled, “can’t even speak now, hm? What happened to the feisty lil’ girl who couldn’t shut up?”

“Fuck, shut up,” you mumbled, tugging on his hair harder, which only made him groan and squeeze your tits harder, coming up to brush his lips against yours, hot breaths intertwining as he smirks, hand travelling down your body, very close to the hem of your shorts.

“Want me to shut up?” He asked, squeezing your neck with slight pressure, your mouth opening in a gasp—he took the opportunity to spit in your mouth, watching your eyes widen as watches you gulp it down, “good fucking girl,” he mumbles.

You were too gone to function anymore and you had just started, but you knew one thing—whatever Jake wanted, you’d let him do it to you.

That man was no less than a Greek god with how sharp his features looked, especially in the dim light of the room, muscles flexing, abs on full display as he held himself up on top of you to press kisses all over.

In a swift second, he pulled you up to unclasp your bra, throwing it away somewhere to continue pressing hot mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts, and down your tummy, caressing it with the pad of his thumb, spending a good few seconds covering the expanse of your skin.

You breathed harder once he reached the waistband of your shorts, his hooded eyes, almost drunk, looking up at you before he swiftly pulled them down, throwing them on the floor somewhere.

He couldn’t be gentle even if he tried, not when he was this thirsty, holding your legs open as he settled in the limited space that the couch held for him. Madman—that’s what he was and you couldn’t help but moan when he got closer to your panty clad cunt, burying his nose in the wet fabric, sniffing the scent of your arousal, groaning as he locked your thighs under his arms, which flexed harder now.

You moaned his name as if a broken record repeating the same thing over and over again and he only mumbled things you couldn’t hear in your cunt, licking the already wet cloth, biting his lip at the first taste of you, “fuck—you’re so fucking perfect,” he says licking you harder, kissing your inner thighs alongside, leaving bites all over—he was feral.

He slid your panties to the side, and the sight he had in front of him drove him to the edge. Jake was an impatient man, yes, he was messy, he was not the softest, but seeing you like this just made him realize how much crazier he could be.

That first taste emboldens him and he dives in like a man starved, lapping at your folds like he’s trying to consume you entirely.

His desperate tongue delves deep inside, fucking you with rapid strokes and curling to hit your sweet spot. You cry out sharply at the intense sensation, fingers tangling in his tousled raven hair to hold him in place. He grips your thighs tightly, holding you down and open for his onslaught as he devours you.

Jake zeroes in on your clit, flicking and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves rapidly. Your back arches off the couch as he suckles hard on the throbbing bud, two fingers pumping inside your clenching hole.

“Fuck—Jake, I’m gonna cum!” You wail, thighs trembling violently around his head as your climax approaches rapidly. He doubles his efforts, fucking you harder with his fingers and lashing your clit mercilessly with his tongue.

He curls his fingers to stroke your G-spot with every thrust, drawing out more of your copious arousal to lap up greedily. Your walls start to flutter and clench around him as the pressure builds unbearably.

Jake chuckled, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. “You like that, baby?” He practically purred, before sucking your clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

“Fuck—yes,” you gasped, your head falling back against the couch. Jake was relentless, his tongue exploring every inch of you, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your thighs trembling as you stared at the ceiling with your mouth open, desperate for air.

Jake pulled back for a moment, looking up at you with a wicked grin, “you want more, kitten?” He teased, running a finger along your slit, “go on then, beg for it.”

You groaned in frustration, but you were too far gone to care, “please, Jake,” you begged, fueling his ego.

“Shhh, be a good lil’ kitten for me, yeah?” He mumbled into your core mindlessly, sending shivers up your spine as your thighs shake. He didn’t stop, but just when your ecstasy was about to crash—

He stopped.

You let out a frustrated groan and Jake only got up with the essence of you sprawled over his chin, his hard on begging to be freed.

“Fuck?” You asked, trying to get up on your elbows, looking at him incredulously.

He only gave you a once over, tongue poking his cheek from inside before he came closer, swooping you up in his arms easily as you yelped, eyes wide as he carried you to the bedroom, “no patience, huh?” He asked.

He was proud of himself for making you this weak, for cracking your high wall down so he could see you, so he could ruin you. Jake was possessive, especially after knowing what you and Heeseung went through, he wanted you to have the best, and he was willing to be the best for you.

“I—I was gonna cum!” You said, holding on to him for support.

“Did I say you could?” He replied smoothly.

“What—Jake what the fuck?” You whined and he only chuckled.

“Be patient, love, or else you won’t be coming all fucking night, yeah?” He said as he let you get down on the bed.

You looked so innocent, eyes watery, hair messy, looking up at him like an angry little kitten trying to look tough. He climbed the bed and you moved back, till your back hit the headboard and he hovered above you, caressing your cheek as he cupped your jaw, tilting your head up to look him in his eye. Your heartbeat speeding up yet again, and good lord you loved being manhandled by Jake.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, thumb pushing on your lower lip.

“Nothing.” You mumbled.

He leaned in closer, “not thinking of my cock inside your pretty little cunt, hm?” He asks, watching you shiver at the thought, “by the time I'm done with you, you’ll be begging me to let you cum.”

Your jaw clenched as you slide your hand up Jake’s torso, tracing all the way from his abs to his neck, his own body reacting to your touch, cock twitching inside his pants by the time your hand rested on his nape, pulling him even closer so your noses were touching.

“You know, Jake, you talk big game. Don’t make promises you can’t back up,” you mumbled to rile him up.

Jake’s eyes flashed with a mixture of lust and irritation at your challenge, “oh, you’re going to regret those words,” he whispered, his hands gripping your hips possessively. “I’m going to make you beg for my cock, baby.”

He punctuated his statement with a sharp thrust of his fingers, two of them plunging deep into your sopping wet pussy. You gasped, your back arching off the bed as he worked them in and out, stroking along your sensitive walls.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he panted, his thumb rubbing firm circles on your clit. “I can’t wait to feel this perfect little cunt wrapped around my cock.”

You moaned, your hips rolling to meet his hand as he fucked you with his fingers. “Then stop talking and do something about it,” you shot back, your voice breathy with desire.

Jake chuckled darkly, withdrawing his fingers only to bring them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, his eyes never leaving yours as he savored your taste. “Mmh—delicious,” he purred, “but I’m not done playing with you yet.”

Before you could protest, he was pushing your thighs apart and settling between them. His tongue delved into your folds, lapping at your arousal like a man starved. You cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he devoured your pussy with single-minded intensity.

He worked you over mercilessly, his tongue and lips and teeth finding all the right spots to drive you wild. You bucked against his face, your thighs trembling as the pleasure built inside you. Just when you thought you might burst, Jake would back off, leaving you desperate and aching for release.

“Jake, please,” you whimpered, tugging on his hair in a futile attempt to guide him back to where you needed him most, “I need to cum. Please let me cum.”

He lifted his head, his chin glistening as he looked up at you. “Not yet,” he shook his head, his fingers continuing their maddeningly slow circles on your clit, “I want to hear you scream first.”

“I fucking can’t!” You breathed out, trying to control your moans again, “someone’s gonna hear and—ah—complain about it,” you said, which only made him scoff.

“Is that it, hm? Have it your way then, princess,” he mumbled, yanking your soiled panties down all the way, balling it up in his first to make a gag out of it and shoving it down your mouth, “now you can scream all your want, Y/N.” He said, taking your name in his deep voice.

And if you weren’t crazy before, now you had reached your limit of madness, even a poke from his side was like a pleasant burning wound to your skin, his actions also made you realize just how hungry Jake was for being the one in control.

You squirmed beneath Jake, feeling utterly at his mercy as he continued his torturous teasing. The gag in your mouth muffled your moans but couldn’t silence them completely, much to Jake’s enjoyment. Your body arched, yearning for more, desperate for release.

“Such a needy lil’ thing, aren’t you?” Jake growled, his fingers still circling your sensitive bud, “I can feel how wet you are, taste how wet you are, dripping for me, hm?”

His words made you clench, fresh arousal coating his fingers. He gathered some of your slickness and slowly dragged it up to your throbbing clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. Your hips bucked up in hopes of seeking more contact.

“Hm—so responsive,” Jake purred, looking pleased with himself, “I could do this all night—keep you on the edge, begging so desperately for me.”

“Please—” you tried to say around the gag, your eyes pleading, you were so close, teetering on the brink of an explosive climax. Just a little more.

But Jake seemed determined to deny you that satisfaction, easing off right as you were about to fall over into your state of euphoria, frustration bubbled up inside you, mingling with the overwhelming lust coursing through your veins.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, baby,” Jake taunted, nipping at your inner thigh, “I want to hear you scream my name—let everyone know who you belong to.”

His fingers circled, feather-light touches that drove you wild with need. You thrashed beneath him, incoherent noises of desperation spilling from your lips. Jake just chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying your plight, removing your gag to hear you gasp loudly, his name on the tip of your tongue.

Jake was cruel, so cruel the way he denied your orgasm yet again with a smirk playing on his face, a whole one eighty from how he was an hour back and you were crying by now, something he seemed to enjoy too as he licked your face, tasting the salty teardrop you let out, “this makes me wanna ruin you more, y’know?”

“Fuck—Jake, let me cum please,” you sobbed as he took you in his arms.

“You wanna cum, hm?” He asked as you settled on his lap, his hard on pressing against your thigh as you nodded, “fuck, you look so pretty crying like that for me, like a doll, a doll for me to use, hm?”

You couldn’t take it anymore, getting off and undoing his pant buttons as he watched you with amusement how you struggled to take off his pants and boxers, only to find his cock waiting for you, hard and proud.

Jake’s cock was throbbing, hard and ready to burst, as you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip in a teasing manner. You could taste the salty beads of precum leaking from his slit, the flavor sending a jolt of desire straight to your core.

“Fuck—baby,” Jake groaned, his fingers threading through your hair as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper into your throat. “Your mouth feels so good. Keep going just like that, good girl.”

You moaned around his length, the vibrations making him shudder. Your own arousal was dripping down your thighs, coating them with your slick essence. The wet sounds of your slurping filled the room, mingling with Jake’s heavy breaths and grunts of pleasure.

“Shit—fuck, take it easy, I won’t be able to hold back," he panted, his grip on your hair tightening, “I’m gonna fucking come down your throat if you keep sucking me like that.”

You redoubled your efforts, eager to taste his release. Your tongue flattened against the underside of his shaft as you sucked harder, determined to milk him of every last drop. Just as you felt him start to swell, signaling his impending orgasm, you pulled away with a pop.

Jake’s eyes jolted open, a mix of confusion and frustration flashing across his face. “What the fuck, baby? Why the fuck did you stop?”

You just smiled coyly up at him, licking your lips. “Because I want you to cum inside me. I want to feel you fill me up with your hot cum, or are you too much of a coward to fuck me?” You teased, your grin making him scoff.

God he loved you.

Jake growled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. In a flash, he grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your side, your back pressed firmly against his torso.

Before you could even process the sudden change in position, he was lined up at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your slick folds.

“Teasing me will only get you punished,” he warned, his voice low and husky with desire. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

With that promise, he slammed into you, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, your back arching as he filled you completely. Jake set a brutal pace, pounding into you with wild abandon.

You let out a sharp cry as Jake’s thick cock stretched you open, filling you so deeply that you could feel him bulging through your lower abdomen. The feeling of his hard length pulsing inside you sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you arch your back and press your ass against him.

“Lord—ah yes,” you gasped, grinding against him, “you’re—so fucking big.”

Jake grunted in response, his fingers digging into your hips as he continued to pound into you at a furious pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin and your needy moans filled the room, mixing with the creaking of the bed frame beneath you.

“Shit, your cunt is so tight,” Jake mumbled, his breath hot against your neck. “Squeezing my cock like a desperate doll—you were made for me, baby. Made to take my dick and milk me dry.”

His filthy words only heightened your arousal, making you clench even tighter around him. You could feel your orgasm building again, the tension coiling in your core as he hit that special spot deep inside you with each thrust.

“Please don’t stop, not this time,” you pleaded, your nails digging into his thighs. “Fuck me harder, Jake. I’m so fucking close.”

He was quick to flip you over again so you were resting on your back, his hips settling in between you as he held your thighs up, your legs resting on both his shoulders with ease as he snapped into you harder, plunging his cock with more need, as if he was a monster hungry for lust and only lust.

Jake snarled, his hips snapping forward with a newfound vigor. One hand moved around to rub firm circles around your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body began to tremble, your breath coming out in short gasps as you found yourself on the brink of ecstasy.

“Cum for me,” Jake demanded, pinching your clit hard, “I want to feel you cum all over my dick, baby.”

With a scream of his name, you practically exploded, your pussy clamping down around him like a vice as your orgasm crashed over you. Your body convulsed, your back bowing as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed through you, which shocked Jake because you weren’t just having an orgasm.

You were squirting all over his cock.

Jake followed shortly after, his cock pulsing as he spilled his release deep inside you, as he breathed hard, watching you with surprised eyes.

“Fuck,” he groaned, grinding against you to prolong your shared climax, “you’re so fucking hot, so fucking mine.”

You whimpered at the feeling of his hot cum painting your walls, the sensation making your pussy flutter around his shaft. Jake held you close as you both rode out the aftershocks, his softening cock still buried inside you.

“You’re mine,” he mumbled, “say it.”

“Yours—I’m yours,” you breathed as best as you could.

“Again.”

“I’m yours, Jake.”

“Fuck—again.”

“So so fucking yours, I’m all yours Jake.”

“Mine,” he whispered, so possessive.

After a few moments, Jake carefully pulled out and rolled you onto your back. He pressed gentle kisses along your jawline and down your neck, his touch soothing and tender in contrast to the rough passion from moments before.

“That was intense,” he murmured, nuzzling against your collarbone, “I don’t think i’ll ever get enough of you, baby. You’re fucking addictive.”

You smiled up at him, reaching up to cup his face. "I could say the same about you. The way you fuck me, it’s like you’re a fucking beast.”

“Was I too harsh?” He asked, placing soft kisses all over, “I’m sorry I just lost control—you have no idea how badly I need you, I don’t think I can stop,” he confessed.

You kissed him again, “then don’t stop, just don’t.”

That’s all he needed to hear for the night, that you were finally his, and he was yours. He smirked, the night was just getting started.

Chapter 10: Hate me less? You love me more.

You don’t remember how the night ended, not when Jake kept his promise of how you wouldn’t be able to walk anymore once he was done with you, and he was precise about it. He was far from done when he made you fall apart on his cock so many times, you lost count.

It was a crazy switch up once you both were done, he took care of you, almost like he was made for it, helping you clean up in little bathtub which was definitely too small to fit the both of you, yet he helped you bath, a faint blush on his face as you laughed once he tried to act sly, touching you again when you were so sensitive and overstimulated.

Turns out, Jake can be super clingy when he has to be, also not letting you go once you get out of the tub, helping you dry your hair, helping you moisturize your body, helping you smile by kissing you every few seconds.

He held you to sleep, not before hearing you say you actually want him and it’s not a dream. Jake doesn’t remember if he ever felt this way before, this warmth called happiness that you provided him so easily.

“I love you,” he mumbled to your sleeping figure, he was whipped, already thinking of your future together. Yeah, maybe it all happened too quickly, he still wouldn’t have it any other way. He wouldn’t mind getting through all the hurt again if it meant that he’d wake up to you sleeping next to him—to you loving him.

It was perhaps the best day of Jake’s life.

The air felt different today.

Not because of the weather, which was finally warm and breezy after days of storm and stress, but because Jake was walking beside you—not behind, not ahead—beside you. His fingers were laced with yours, his thumb brushing over your skin every few steps like he was still checking if this was real, he still couldn’t believe it.

It was.

You passed the main quad slowly, in no rush. The two of you didn’t need to say much. Conversations dimmed as you walked through. You could feel the glances, the whispers.

Someone definitely said your name. Then his.

And then, clear as day, they whispered.

“Wait—are they actually holding hands?”

Jake didn’t flinch.

Not like he would’ve, weeks ago. Not like the boy who couldn’t stand being seen, being known. Instead, he just grabbed your hand a little tighter—casual, sure, and completely unbothered. His expression said it all—Yeah, and?

You chuckled. “Think they’re combusting?”

“Oh, definitely,” he said, tugging you closer with a smugness he barely bothered to hide anymore. “Especially that one girl who’s walking with me, who swore she’d never even look at me.”

“She wasn’t entirely wrong,” you teased. “You were kind of a menace.”

He groaned, tossing his head back, “were?”

You laughed, and it made him smile, soft and full, the kind of smile he used to hide and now gave you freely.

“You’re doing that look again,” he said, side-eyeing you. “Like you’re psychoanalyzing me.”

“Maybe I am. Can’t help it. You’re a walking dissertation, y’know?”

“Yeah? What’s the title?”

You looked up at him with a shrug. “How to fall for someone you’re supposed to hate.”

That made him stop walking.

You blinked, startled, but he was already turning to face you, his hoodie sleeves pushed up just enough to show the fading bruises on his knuckles—old reminders of the version of him you never gave up on.

“I’m glad you did,” he said. “Fall for me, even when I made it so damn hard.”

You smiled slowly, the kind of smile that made his breath catch. “You still do.”

“Yeah, well,” he squeezed your hand, “at least I’m hot.”

You were too busy rolling your eyes to realize you’d just walked past Heeseung and his friends until the entire bench went awkwardly quiet. Heeseung looked up, eyes flicking from your joined hands to your face, and then to Jake—who didn’t even spare him a glance.

He was too focused on you. Too content stealing a bite of your ice cream like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Let’s go,” you muttered, trying not to laugh as you nudged him forward.

Jake followed. No hesitation.

Because this, the hand holding, the quiet teasing, the stares that didn’t matter anymore, this was normal.

And for the first time in his life, Jake finally understood: Normal didn’t mean boring.

It meant chosen. It meant enough.

It meant being yours.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

permanent taglist:

@jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @hyacandoit @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl @dopedels @kaykay11sworld @glitterjay @skzooluvr @yongbokified @prkhaven @kristynaaah @tinycatharsis @filmnings

taglist open! send an ask or comment to be added!

#fic : call me when you hate me less #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jake smut #enha smut #kpop smut #jake sim #jake imagines #enhypen imagines #jake x reader #jake x you #jake sim smut #jake hard hours #enhypen #smut

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zorosangell · 4 months ago

Note

Zoro x shanks daughter reader ??

Reader just likes to have his attention on her(cause he’s big and strong and sooo handsome) and Zoro is flustered by this charming, seductive, and HOT woman but at the same time she’s the daughter of a YONKO (so he’s a lil scared), reader just likes to laugh and tease really, they’re kinda like shanks and mihawk but zoro’s actually into it and well i will let your creativity do the rest if it inspires you, you can maybe even make it a lil spicy🤭 (bonus with shanks refusing to see his darling, precious daughter grow up haha)

Have a good day, love love love all your stories!!!!

⛥ﾟ・。 reading

synopsis: after plotting on zoro for the longest, you finally decide to make your move... the only question is what zoro's willing to risk.

cw: nsfw, fluffy fluff, comfort, heavily chel inspired reader, reader has magic (not really important tho), reader is BAD, reader is also real as hell, whiny-ish zoro ig (i love pathetic men), ZORO IS DOWN BAD, shanks's part made me laugh, this was so fun to write

a/n: started writing literally the moment i received this. awesome ask anon <3

"5566... 5567... 5568... 5569... 5570..."

Quietly, you sat sprawled in the rafters of the crow's nest, watching with awe and intrigue as Zoro swung the weight around with perfect control, as if it was a measly training sword.

His back muscles rippled and twitched with each minute movement, stretching and flexing to accommodate the weight's large size, the veins in his forearms and neck bulging with concentration.

Not to mention his grunts of effort, which sounded awfully similar to the grunts that starred in your daydreams.

And you knew for a fact not a single woman on the planet—save for maybe Nami—would blame you at all.

'I mean, look at him...'

The sight was delicious, his arms looking delectable enough to take a bite out of.

In fact—

"You gonna hide up there all day?" Zoro asked, ripping you from your thoughts, eyes not even bothering to look up to where he knew you were sitting. "Or are ya gonna come down sometime soon?"

With a dramatic sigh, you flicked your hand, a flourish of red magic undoing your invisibility and revealing yourself to the swordsman.

"Y'know, that haki of yours really takes all the fun out of sneaking around."

Lazily, you allowed yourself to roll backwards off the support beam, your magic effortlessly catching your body on a bed of swirling, red mist and slowly lowering you to the swordsman's level.

"Didn't need it," he huffed out, his swing in perfect sync. "You're predictable."

You shrugged, shifting to sit criss-crossed, resting your clasped hands in your lap.

"Eh, gettin' caught's half the fun, anyway," you smiled, teasingly. "If I were good at it, we wouldn't be having this lovely conversation."

"Oh, now it's half the fun?" he cracked a small smirk, amused by the sudden change.

You let out a small giggle, your magic mist swirling to flip you upside down, "What? You don't like talkin' to me?"

"I like training without distractions."

"Really? How distracting am I?"

A tinge of warmth settled on his cheeks, having been caught in your verbal trap, but he quickly shoved it away, focusing on the task at hand.

"Pesky, at best."

You nodded, biting back a cocky smirk.

He was lying through his teeth, obviously... but that was good.

That meant you were wearing him down.

"Oh, pesky, I see," you feigned innocence, swirling yourself back upright. "Well, we can't have that."

Turning around, you floated over to a far away corner, willing your mist to plop you down on the floor.

With a tired sigh, Zoro halted his movements, dropping the weight before raking a calloused hand through his hair.

"(y/n)... what are you doing?" he asked, crossing his large arms over his broad chest.

You swallowed back a swoon, instead making a book appear out of thin air, holding it up for him to see.

"Reading," you answered, smoothly, subtly batting your eyelashes. "Since I am so distracting, I'm gonna keep quiet, face the wall, and read."

"You..." Zoro stumbled slightly, "You really gotta do that here?"

"It's quiet," you shrugged as you flipped open the book to a random page, maintaining nonchalance as you turned to face the wall. "If you really want me to go that bad, Zo, I will."

Oh, no, no, no... he knew this game; you were doing that reverse psychiatry thing you always did.

He knew what he wanted, but you were wording what you wanted to sound like what he didn't want, and to defy you he'd want what he didn't want because you wanted it.

He didn't want that.

With a sigh, he picked up his weight once again, resuming his ten reps of 10,000.

Though... that was short-lived.

Despite being so far away, your arrangement sat you right in front of him, completely open for his eyes to explore.

And if he was being honest, he had never seen a singular person stretch, squirm, or adjust their hair so much in such a short amount of time.

Not that he was necessarily complaining.

You were known throughout the Grand Line for your jaw dropping looks, your beauty said to rival that of the Pirate Empress—though, in the swordsman's personal opinion, you beat her out by a mile.

But even more so, you were known for being the progeny of an infamous pirate, a name so powerful that no man or woman who knew you dared to harm a hair on your head.

Red-Haired Shanks, whose daughter was as flirtatious as she was cunning, as smooth as she was strong, and as dangerous as she was beautiful.

And holy hell, was she beautiful.

So, not only had Zoro developed a small—not small at all—attraction toward one of the most dangerous women in the world, but also the woman who was practically a sister to his captain.

Yeah... all in all, things were very messy.

And god-fucking-dammit, if he had to watch you flip your silky hair one more time—

"All right, we gotta have a talk," he groaned, completely dropping the weight, shaking the crows's nest as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

With lightening speed, you floated over, dropping yourself right in front of him.

"Yes?"

"Look, (y/n)," he sighed, running an anxious hand through his hair, fighting off the familiar burn crawling up his neck. "You're... nice. And funny. And I enjoy sharing a bottle of sake with you every once in a while."

Realizing he was going off-topic, he quickly cleared his throat, focusing back on the task at hand.

"But I can't afford any tempta—distractions," he corrected, practically turning into a beet at his obvious slip up. "So..."

Innocently, you clasped your hands behind your back, shifting your weight on your hips as you subtly leaned in, completely unbothered.

God, you were even curvier up close.

"After I'm the World's Greatest Swordsman, if you still wanna try this, then... sure. But I've got no time for it now."

With a shrug, you turned around, already knowing exactly how to handle this.

"Too bad," you sighed, your arms coming around to hug your torso. "M'free now."

Zoro swallowed thickly, unable to stop his legs from taking a step forward, as if he was supposed to comfort you.

"I couldn't... I couldn't do that to Luffy," he attempted to come up with another reason, anything to reinforce the very thin string of sanity he was holding to. "Not without talking to him first."

At that, you smirked, turning around to meet him with blazing eyes, their intensity enough to reduce the swordsman to a puddle on the floor.

"I don't see Luffy anywhere... Do you?"

"S-so eager!" you hummed, the matted floors of the crow's nest chafing slightly underneath your arched back.

Your nails dug into his muscled shoulders, holding back a giggle at the way he was already gone.

Eyes droopy...

Abs flexing...

Panting...

"Zo, s'all this pent up from—?"

"You," his rough hands kneaded your ass, dragging your body forward to grind against him.

God, he didn't even know the question he was answering.

Zoro was entirely preoccupied with making sure he didn't fucking pass out.

He was humping you as if he was in heat, soft gasps leaving his lips at the wet squelches from down below.

"Say it," his calloused hands slid up to rest on your waist, squeezing the plush flesh between his fingers. "Say my name again."

It was adorable how tough he attempted to sound, acting as if he wasn't wracked with shudders at every smooth gyration of your hips against his hardened dick.

"Say what?" you purred, teasingly, peppering kisses along his neck and jaw, only to have him bite your lip in warning. "Zo? The same Zo that was so mean to me a few minutes ago, trying to ignore me—?"

"M'sorry!"

In your dreams, you'd teased him far worse than this, but he was already an utter wreck, that fact alone enough to send another wave of arousal pooling at your core.

God, this man...

"There! I said it. Won't-won't ignore you again hngh! Fuck- Let you stay as long as you want."

Bingo.

The crow's nest rang out with rhythmic plap! plap! plap! as Zoro finally picked up the pace, speeding up with each thrust deeper into your cunt.

"Ngh! Zoro- Zoro f-fuck," you keened, the air in your lungs slowly but surely leaving you. "L-Lucky I like you s'much."

He was so hot, practically burning up at the heavenly plush of your pussy, forcing him to throw his head back in pleasure.

You had never been stretched so far, his dick massaging your sweet spots without even trying.

"Ha-ahh- so tight- fuck- how the hell d'you feel so damn good?" he panted, placing the occasional open-mouth kiss against your neck.

His biceps flexed with effort, rippling as the vice like grip around your waist pulled even tighter.

You couldn't answer if you wanted to.

"C'mon, speak t'me," he smirked, smugly. "Whisper those pretty words in my ear like you always do."

"Zoro!" you moaned, weakly tossing your head back. "L-Love this- Love this s'much... Love you..."

"That right?" he grinned wildly, capturing your lips in another kiss before picking up the pace.

Oh, he was neverrr letting you go.

"Tell me more."

BONUS !!

"AHHHH!" Shanks shouted, clutching his chest as he frantically sat up in his hammock, suddenly unable to catch his breath.

A chorus of groans and grumbles sounded off as the others jolted awake, Benn Beckman rolling over on his side to look down at his captain.

"Hell are you yellin' for?" he grunted, gruffly. "S'barely four."

"I had a dream..." Shanks replied, tone distant and dramatic.

He had never had such a vivid nightmare before.

"(y/n) was kidnapped by a furry, green moss-devil with three earrings and a missing eye."

"For fuck's sake..."

"You think (y/n)'s all right? Y'know, I heard somewhere that dreams are metaphors for real life. Maybe the world's trying to tell me something."

"M'too tired 'n' too sober for this conversation."

"I'm serious!"

"Go t'sleep."

"But—"

"Sleep."

#zorosangell #one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa #roronoa zoro #roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro #zoro x reader #op

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luvnoirs · 3 months ago

Text

WICKED GAMES

paring: paige x black fem!reader synopsis: after being drafted number one pick, paige is under pressure to prove herself and save a failing relationship. then, she sees you. warning(s): cheating (sorta kinda), angst, fingering, edging word count: 5.1k

a/n: i absolutely hate ts im only posting cause i promised my oomfs that i would post this tonight 😭 it’s supposed to be inspired by wicked games by the weeknd but i feel like i started losing the plot… also lets pretend that paige isn’t a lightweight cause i know her ass would be gone off the shots she took in this LMAOOO

PART ONE | PART TWO

paige wasn't quite sure how she ended up downtown in dallas. one second she was staring up at the ceiling in her silent apartment, the next she was behind the wheel driving down the highway. the city lights illuminated the road, blurring past almost as if she was running from something. but maybe she was.

she should've been in the gym, putting up shots until her arms gave out, trying to excuse the mess of a game she had last night. or maybe she should've been at home, working through the silence with her girlfriend— if you could even still call her that. it used to be sweet late-night texts and dinner dates. now it was just unanswered texts and empty kisses.

paige wasn't oblivious. she knew she hasn't been the easiest to love during her transition from college basketball to the league. but being a rookie meant pressure she couldn't explain and expectations that she was dying to reach. she was either too focused or not focused enough. too distant or too clingy.

a text lit up on her car screen as she rolled to a slow stop at the red light.

lys: yooo. you still pulling up?

paige let out a quiet breath, one hand on the wheel, the other raking through her hair. she didn’t even know why she said yes to nalyssa inviting her out tonight. maybe because it was easier than explaining why she didn’t feel like being around anyone.

she turned down a narrow side street and spotted the club her teammate had mentioned. its neon sign was buzzing, half the letters flickering on and off like they couldn’t commit either.

p: yeah im bout to park

she hit send without thinking, backing into one of the last open spots in the lot. the engine cut off and everything got quiet. too quiet.

she sat there for a second, staring out the windshield, watching a group of girls laugh their way out of an uber, heels clicking against the concrete. smiling like they didn't have the weight of a record-breaking season or a deteriorating relationship on their shoulders.

then paige opened the door and stepped out.

she kept her head down and eyes on the cracked pavement. she kept it moving until she reached the bouncer who stood outside the door.

the bouncer nodded his head, signaling for her to go ahead inside. it wasn't too crowded inside, so she was able to spot nalyssa near the back, already with a drink in her hand.

“took you long enough,” nalyssa called over the music, reaching for her hand.

paige shrugged, letting herself be pulled in. she wasn’t here to catch up or make friends.

she needed a drink.

and if she was being honest with herself— she probably needed to get laid.

but she shoved the thought down as she trailed behind nalyssa, weaving through bodies until they reached the section tucked near the back. vip, of course, but not too flashy. just enough to feel separate from the ongoing chaos.

everyone in the section was already settled in laughing, posted up with half-empty glasses, even a joint being passed between a few people. as nalyssa introduced her to the table, paige offered a lazy nod and a half-assed smile but didn’t stop moving until she dropped into the open seat beside the low table.

nalysssa settled next to dijonai, getting back into a previous conversation, but paige tuned them out.

instead, she reached for the closest shot without even knowing what was in it and drank it.

tequila.

she welcomed the burn in her chest.

a second shot followed, much smoother this time. the edges around her thoughts began to blur by the time she took a third one. one of nalyssa's friends, who she had fallen into an easy conversation with since she arrived nudged her hand in her face, offering the half-finished blunt. paige declined with a shake of her head.

"you good?" nalyssa cuts in as dijonai orders more drinks for the table. "over there looking all mean n'shit."

paige cracked a smile, the liquor finally starting to settle in her system. her shoulders were eased and her jaw was unclenched for the first time tonight. she wasn't drunk, just tipsy enough to relax. "i'm chillin'."

nalyssa gave her a look, half amused, half knowing. "didn't you say things were fucked up with you and your girl? i was wondering why you ain't bring her."

she leaned back, her eyes scanning the room instead as she responded passively.

"yeah, i'm not dealing with her bullshit tonight."

and truth was, part of paige did want to work it out with cassidy.

deep, deep down, the part that still lived off of the memories of them cuddled up on the bed watching the white lotus and the late-night sex still kept her hoping for a change.

but the other part? it was tired. tired of the bending and explanations. tired of feeling like she had to choose between being great and being enough for someone else.

cassidy never understood. she said she did, but her actions spoke otherwise. every time paige missed a call, came home late, or chose the gym over a dinner date, it became another argument.

you've changed.

you never make time for me anymore.

but maybe cassidy was the one who changed. she loved the idea of paige but not the reality of what it took to be her.

paige blinked, suddenly aware of the drink in her hand again. nalyssa was rambling on about the tough patch she and dijonai went through, trying to offer some advice. paige nodded here and there, more so focused on her own surroundings than her friend's words.

someone was dancing on the table across the room. another girl was crying in the corner, visibly arguing with a man who was too drunk to care. and as nalyssa made another comment, paige couldn't help but completely drown it out as she laid eyes on another woman who was walking past the table.

paige couldn't see her face. she didn't need to.

she walked with confidence and a sight sway to her hips, immediately captivating the blonde.

she wore a black lace dress that left little to the imagination. it was thin and sheer, clinging to her body like it was made for it. underneath, paige could see the outline of her black thong through the see-through floral lace, every detail intentional.

she walked to the section beside them with her back still facing paige as excitedly hugging a few people who were already seated as if she hadn't seen them in years. her dress fit around her curves deliciously and paige caught herself staring a bit too long at the woman's ass as she bent over.

nalyssa couldn't help but notice the lack of attention from paige at this point and she caught on immediately, following paige's gaze until her own eyes landed on the woman.

nalyssa leaned in, nudging paige's arm. "damn, paige. you all in her shit."

paige rolled her eyes as she reached for her glass again, trying to shake it off.

"shut up." paige took a sip of her drink, swallowing it down hard.

paige always considered herself a loyal person, especially when it came to romantic relationships. she didn’t entertain attention she didn’t plan to return.

but then again…

were she and cassidy even in a relationship anymore?

the last time they spoke face to face, it ended in a slammed door and another argument that started over nothing. cassidy stormed off after mentioning staying with her friends for a while. and that was five days ago. neither of them had called. neither of them had tried.

so what did that say?

but all that blurred the second she laid eyes on her, the woman now sitting just a few feet away like temptation itself dressed in all black lace.

her head tilted back mid-laugh, hand resting effortlessly at her waist, the other flicking a cascade of curls over her shoulder. even from the side, she looked unreal.

that small gesture exposed the curve of her neck, a sharp jawline, and a tattoo that started at the base of her neck and disappeared beneath thin black straps. she could make out some writing and a few flowers with leaves, and lines trailing down into the fabric.

she shifted in her seat, jaw tightening, trying not to stare, but failing miserably. she was definitely the most beautiful woman she's ever seen.

“listen, man,” nalyssa said, setting her drink down and turning to face paige fully. “i’m not tryna be the villain here, but let’s stop pretending. from everything you’ve been tellin’ me these past few weeks… you and cassidy ain’t had nothing going on for a minute.”

paige didn’t say anything. just stared down at the melting ice in her glass.

nalyssa kept going, softer now. “this is exactly why i dragged your stubborn ass out tonight. you need to stop holding on to something that’s not holding you back. cassidy doesn’t get it, and to be honest? i’m not even sure she’s trying to.”

paige sighed through her nose, the weight of it all pressing against her ribs. part of her wanted to argue and defend the pieces of the relationship that still felt familiar. but the words never came.

because nalyssa was right and that realization sat heavy in her chest.

“i just…” paige started. “i don’t know how to let go without feeling guilty.”

“nah,” nalyssa said quickly. “you're staying in something that ain’t feeding you and you need to let that shit go. don't feel guilty for choosing yourself for once."

paige leaned back, her hand rubbing over her face as she took in nalyssa's words, internalizing them.

she peeked over again, searching for the now familiar head of curls. she was still there. talking with another woman who held a phone to her face.

then, finally, the woman glanced over. almost as if something in the air had shifted, like she felt the weight of paige watching her.

her eyes landed on paige instantly and she felt it in her chest. her face was stunning in a way paige couldn't even describe.

her eyes were dark, almond-shaped, framed by baby doll lashes that fluttered softly.

her curls spilled down the sides of her face perfectly like they knew exactly where to fall. it framed her like a portrait in a gallery. like something you weren’t supposed to touch, only admire. the lights hit her just right, casting a warm glow over her skin. rich. soft. paige wondered what that skin would feel like under her fingertips.

paige didn't want to look away, but the woman had broke eye contact first.

she watched as the woman leaned over, saying a few words to the person next to her before she stood up, making her way toward the bar.

paige dragged her fingers across the rim of her glass, still watching.

then she stood up, slowly.

nalyssa raised an eyebrow. “oh shit.”

“i’m just saying hi,” paige said, but the smirk pulling at her lips betrayed her.

nalyssa leaned back with a knowing grin. “uh huh. you better hi the hell outta her.”

paige didn’t look back as she stepped out of their section.

—

“yo,” zoe leaned in and nudged your arm, eyes glinting with curiosity. “that white girl been starin’ at you all night.”

you raised an eyebrow, unfazed but intrigued. “who?”

zoe gave a slight tilt of her head, chin pointed toward the section next to yours.

you turned, eyes scanning the group who were all laughing and drinking, tucked comfortably into their booth. then her eyes locked onto her.

a blonde woman, legs slightly spread, sipping slowly from a glass like she had nowhere to be. she was talking to the light brown-haired girl next to her, nodding along, but her focus wasn’t all the way there. you could tell.

you eyed the white cropped jacket hugging her frame, the black fitted shirt underneath that exposed her abs. her hair was slicked back into a clean, low bun. the studs in her ears caught the glow from the club lights every time she shifted.

you wouldn't deny the fact that she was attractive, or your exact type. but you didn't come here tonight to get laid, so you turned away and towards zoe with a dismissive shrug.

yet, zoe was still squinting her eyes at her. "she don't look familiar to you?"

you shook her head before taking a sip of your drink. "nah, not really. but it's dallas, everybody know everybody here."

zoe clapped her hands together and pointed to you in sudden realization. "dallas! she plays for the dallas wings. that's paige bueckers."

your expression didn't shift. "who?"

zoe rolled her eyes and reached for her phone, opening up instagram and typing in paige's name in the search. she practically shoved the phone in your face. “girl, what? she plays ball. in the league. she's a rookie but been hyped up since high school. she got mad game, i’ll give her that.”

tapping zoe’s screen, your eyes narrowing slightly at the profile pulled up in front of you. paige had it all: blue check, millions of followers, highlight reels, magazine features, the whole deal.

you blinked, a little caught off guard by the level of attention the girl commanded. you expected maybe a couple hundred thousand followers, not a whole fanbase.

"that woman is fine as fuck," zoe said, pulling her phone back down to her side and locking the screen. "if you don't get you some of that... i will."

you knew zoe was joking, but part of you was curious. curious enough to wonder what exactly it was that pulled a basketball star’s attention your way.

you took another slow sip of your drink, then glanced back toward paige, expecting her to still be deep in conversation with her friend.

but she wasn’t.

no thoughts.

just eyes.

locked directly on you.

you froze for half a second, not visibly, but enough to feel it.

zoe was right— paige was insanely gorgeous. her gaze felt like she wasn't just looking, but studying you.

you tried to play it cool, kept your posture relaxed, head slightly tilted like you weren't phased. but with every second paige kept that gaze locked, you felt something shift.

a slow heat settling low in your stomach, crawling up your spine.

you needed another fucking drink.

you turned away from paige's table, nudging zoe, who was deep in conversation with one of your friends, laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“imma hit the bar. you want anything?”

zoe shook her head, barely missing a beat. “nah, i’m good.”

you slid out of your seat and excused yourself to the rest of the group before heading toward the bar. you didn’t bother looking back, but you felt paige looking at you still.

you walked a little slower than usual, with just enough sway in your hips to make it worth watching. if paige wanted a show, you were more than happy to give her one.

once you reached the bar, one of the bartenders gave you a quick nod, mouthing 'give me a sec' as he tended to a row of customers.

fine. you had time.

you slipped onto one of the empty stools, crossing your legs, letting your fingers trail along the edge of the bar. you took a slow breath, just settling into the wait.

then, you felt it.

a presence right next to you. you didn’t even have to look to know who occupied the space.

but you did anyway. and you didn't wait for her to speak first.

"you gon' keep staring at me all night or what?"

you turned your head, chin tilted up due to the height difference. there she stood with her mouth curved into an easy smile and one elbow resting on the edge of the bar. you noticed a chain that hung from her neck in the process.

she looked good. as hell.

but you wouldn't verbally admit that. you weren't going to stroke her ego.

“i’m just tryna figure out how to say hi without gettin’ curved.”

your head titled slightly, eyes skating across paige’s face, still deciding if she was worth the time.

“so this is you being shy?”

“nah,” paige said, shaking her head once. “this is me being respectful. you had a whole section, friends, vibe going on. i wasn’t tryna interrupt all that.”

"what changed?"

paige licked her lips, her eyes drifting for a second, just enough time to gather the words. then they locked back onto yours, more focused now.

“i did,” she said simply, offering no explanation.

you didn’t respond right away. just let the silence breathe as you thought to yourself.

you weren't naïve, you knew paige wanted you. had known from the second your eyes met. but what surprised you was how paige wanted you.

there was no flash. no ego. no embarrassing attempt to impress you. she didn’t lead with status or money or weak one liners. she came over with intention and left her pride at the door.

and that made you slightly more interested than you already were.

paige, sensing the silence stretching just a little too long, leaned forward slightly, her voice warm.

“i’m paige, by the way.”

she extended her hand steadily, no pressure behind it. you looked at it for a second, then took it, her fingers cool against your palm.

you introduced yourself, but before either of you could say anything else, the bartender stepped in.

“i apologize about the wait. you ladies need anything?”

you turned slightly, letting your hand fall from paige's loose grip before reaching for your purse. “yeah, i’ll take a paloma.”

your fingers were halfway to your wallet when paige quietly pulled a card from the back of her phone case and handed it over without hesitation.

“i got it,” she said, eyes still on you. her gaze drifted, lingering on the swell of your chest. the way your top exposed just enough to tempt.

she let her eyes trace every curve like she was memorizing it. and when her eyes finally came back up to yours, there was no apology in them.

you swallowed hard, muttering out a 'thank you'.

being this close to paige was fucking with your head. you hadn’t even planned on leaving with anyone tonight, but the way paige looked at you had you feeling something you had been neglected of for a long time.

not just lust, but craved. wanted. seen.

you liked it.

but then reality creeped in. you thought back to your conversation with zoe: paige bueckers, money, wealth, headlines, women.

you had her fair share of one night stands in the past, but never with a celebrity, a basketball star at that.

and that was the problem.

you didn’t want to be a quick fuck in some sweaty club bathroom that got sent off with a quick nod and a 'take care', or worse, plastered on some messy instagram page that lived off exposing celebrity's private shit.

if you were gonna give paige your time— your body, it had to mean something.

paige leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing. "and don't think i didn't notice that shit you pulled when you walked over here either."

you didn't flinch, but shifted your body toward paige, your knees brushing. the contact sent a spark up your spine.

your lips curled into a knowing smile.

“well... it worked, didn’t it?”

she let a beat of silence pass between the two of you, her eyes never shying away from yours.

"how long you wanna play this game?"

“depends,” you said with a shrug.

“i’m not tryna be just some quick fuck to you,” you said bluntly. “i'm not like these other groupies in dallas, and i’m definitely not easy.”

paige nodded, slow and sure. "good. i don't want easy."

"what? got bored of fucking every girl who threw themselves at you since you got to dallas?" you retorted.

paige didn't say anything, only chuckling in response. she

the bartender placed your drink on the bar with a clink, but it barely registered. your focus stayed locked on paige, who took a step closer. close enough for her body to brush yours, close enough for her scent to trickle into your throat.

her hand moved up without warning, thumb and index finger catching your chin, tilting your head up. not rough, but firm.

your body tensed on instinct, not in fear, but from how fast the atmosphere shifted around you.

“you think i came over here just to fuck you and dip?” she asked. “if that was all i wanted, i’d be long gone by now.”

your breath caught, chest rising slower. everything around you— the people laughing and conversing, the bass thumping through the floor— blurred into noise.

your voice came quieter than intended. “so you’re saying you don’t wanna fuck me?”

paige’s jaw flexed at that. she let out a slow breath, something close to a laugh, but nothing was humorous.

"oh, i definitely want to," paige confessed. her fingers moved just barely. the edge of her thumb brushed along your jaw like she was trying to memorize it. "you've been driving me fucking insane since i saw you and you know that shit."

you did.

and you definitely lied to her earlier. you were easy as fuck... at least when it came to her.

your thighs squeezed together under the bar in a weak attempt to calm the pressure building between them. it was borderline unbearable and you wondered if she could tell. if she knew how deep she had you already with one simple touch.

but before you could speak, she continued on.

"i just don't want to fuck you here. you're worth way more than some back of the club quickie." she said, her eyes flickering down to your plump lips. "besides, if im gonna fuck you, i need you stretched out somewhere clean and comfortable. preferably my bed."

the thought of paige having you stretched out made your mouth go dry. paige didn't move or touch you anywhere else, but it felt like she had you pinned. you absolutely hated it. you couldn't let her get you so easily.

"so what? you think 'cause you got money n'shit that i wanna fuck you too?" you said, gently pushing her hand away from your face.

"you talk a lot of shit, you know?" paige's lips curved into a smirk. "especially for someone who's been clenching their thighs every five seconds."

"oh, please," you scoffed, hating the fact that she was absolutely right. "fuck you."

you turned your body towards the bar and grabbed your drink, taking a much needed sip.

"tell me to leave and i will." paige said, her voice still sending shivers down your spine. "but don't sit here and act like you don't want me, ma."

you stared at the glass in front of you like it had answers. the buzz from the alcohol did nothing to help the burning desire for the woman next to you. you didn't want to give her the satisfaction, but you also didn't want her to leave either.

you turned, "if i didn't want you, you would know. trust."

paige paused. her mouth parted like she had something to say, but nothing came out.

instead, she bit her bottom lip like she needed to keep it together or else she'd end up dragging you out the club right then and there.

“finish your drink,” she said firmly. it looked like she was holding herself together by a thread.

you looked at her for a second, before obliging. you calmly took your glass and knocked it back with one clean sip, setting it back down without breaking eye contact.

"you drive here?" paige asked, pulling her keys from her pocket.

you shook your head.

"good. let's go." she didn't wait for a reply, just turned and started walking like she knew you'd follow.

and you did.

you glanced over to your friend's table to find zoe already looking at you with a knowing smirk. she made a humping gesture and you were quick to flip her off before catching up to the blonde woman in front of you.

it was about midnight now and the air was chillier than it was when you arrived. but you welcomed it, it relieved your flushed skin.

paige finally looked back once you were both out of the building, her eyes looking you over under the glowing neon club sign.

"you good?"

it was like she was asking if you were still in. wondering if you were going to start second guessing.

but you made up your mind.

"yeah," you said. "you?"

she nodded, biting her bottom lip before she started walking. "i'm parked around the corner."

it wasn't long before you two made it to her car. she led you to her passenger side, opening the door for you, and watched as you stepped in.

she then got in herself from the drivers side and started the car, driving off.

the ride was quiet. not in an awkward way, but dangerously quiet. the radio was a whisper and somehow during the first two minutes of the ride, paige's right hand had made its way to your thigh. you wanted to squirm. you knew she was doing it on purpose too.

but you tried to play it off anyway. your eyes stayed glued to the road, trying to distract yourself by reading random billboard signs that passed by. but your body betrayed you. again.

you leaned towards the window, quickly pressed the button down, and let the fresh cool air wash over your hot skin. but it wasn't enough to settle you.

paige glanced over, "you okay?"

"mhm," you hummed, shutting your eyes as your head rested against the door. "it's just really hot."

you could hear paige pause briefly before chuckling. "it's 65 degrees in here."

you didn't respond, just silently prayed for the ride to end before her hand slipped any further between your legs. but of course, paige, sensing your overwhelming discomfort, slipped her hand even further.

her movements were slow, tempting, almost as if she was waiting on you to stop her. but the slit in your dress and your slightly parted thighs gave her access to swipe her finger against your clothed clit.

“paige,” you warned, cracking your eyes open.

she wasn’t looking at you. her eyes locked on the road with her bottom lip caught between her teeth like she was holding back a laugh or a moan, you couldn’t tell which.

“hm?” she murmured lazily. her middle finger dragged along the edge of your thong, toying with the fabric like she had all the time in the world. “no more shit to say?”

and then she pushed it aside.

you were undeniably wet it was nearly humiliating. you had been since the moment she sized you up at the bar like she already had you bent over in her mind. but with the cold air kissing your exposed pussy, there was no more hiding it.

yet still, still, she refused to touch your clit. instead, she rested them on the inside of your thigh calmly. you couldn't help but notice she was driving slow as fuck too— at least ten under, like she wanted you to suffer.

you clenched your fists in frustration. "i'm not the only one who's running their mouth. you say you want me, but you haven't done shit to me all night."

she let out a short laugh, finally glancing over to you for a brief second. "yeah?"

her next move was sudden. before you could even process anything, you felt her slide her fingers inside of you, smooth and deep. your breath hitched as your thighs instantly widened to make more space for her.

a hand instantly flew to the passenger side door with a smack, blindly searching for anything solid to grip onto as she slowly curled her finger against your g-spot.

a sharp, helpless moan left your lips.

"say something else," paige said, her voice laced with grit.

you tried. you really did.

the beginning of a 'fuck you' was on the tip of your tongue, but the words died in your throat the second her middle finger circled your clit with precision, the pressure just right. you choked back a moan.

"drippin' all over my seat and i barely even touched you tonight," she murmured, almost mockingly, like she was pitying you. "look at you, ma."

you caught a glimpse of yourself in the blind spot mirror. the wind picked up, making your curls wildly stick to your face as your chest rose and fell in deep pulls. your lips were parted, legs trembling,

she kept her rhythm painfully slow. each time she pressed her knuckles deep inside you, she pulled back too soon, leaving you clenching around nothing but air. you were soaked. your arousal dripped down your thighs and coated her fingers.

"shhh... you hear that?" paige lowly, almost like she was holding back a moan. she dragged her fingers out slowly, making your pussy squelch shamefully.

you only nodded against the headrest. the feeling of an orgasm brewed deep in your gut as your hips moved on their own, chasing after the high she was refusing you.

"paige..." you gasped, voice cracking as your dragged out the last syllable.

then her palm brushed against your clit and you cried out, sharp and needy.

your hand shot down, fingers wrapping tight around her wrist, forcing her palm back onto your throbbing clit.

and she let you.

"you wanna cum for me, baby?"

you nodded your head, eyes fluttering shut. your legs were trembling against her leather seats as she slightly picked up her speed, curling her long fingers up into you

"shit, paige," your moan was desperate and breathless. "just like that."

your orgasm was right there, sitting heavy in your stomach, just a few seconds away.

until paige suddenly retracted her hand. completely.

your body jerked at the sudden loss, your orgasm snatched right from under you. you snapped open your eyes to catch paige licking the thick coat of slick that was on her fingers like it was left over candy residue.

you groaned in disbelief, reaching over to smack her arm. "are you fucking serious?"

she finished sucking the last of it off before plastering a lazy smile on her face. "deadass."

you stared at her, breath still ragged and your pussy still exposed, clenching around nothing yet again. you closed your legs together, cringing at the discomfort.

paige rolled to a complete stop at a red light before turning over to you, meeting your eyes. her hand found your thigh again, giving it a soft squeeze.

"don't worry, baby. we're almost there."

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #wlw #wbb #black reader #idk when part 2 gonna be posted ngl

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eufezco · 3 months ago

Text

MEETING THE MARAUDERS𓂃 𓈒 ❀

marauder!remus lupin x slytherin!fem!reader

synopsis – after spending a lot of time with remus and with his friends insisting on meeting you, he finally decides to invite you to spend an afternoon with them.

a/n – you can read it either as a continuation of the fourth year part of this fic but it isn't necessary because it also works as a one shot.

fluff.

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous.

remus had become a big part of your life, you even introduced him to your bowtruckle, a secret you had kept from everyone else, and he had treated it with nothing but kindness. now, he thought it was only fair to return the favor, to introduce you to his friends.

a small part of you was curious, but the other part of you, the one that had spent years being the odd one out, wasn’t sure if you could go through with it, not because you didn’t trust remus, but because people like his friends. popular, loud, charming, didn’t mix with people like you.

—i... i don't think this is a good idea, what if i don't fit in? —you asked the bowtruckle. you paced around your room, luckily your awful roommates were out, giving you the space to overthink in peace. —what if they think i’m not funny? or too quiet? what if they just —you sighed, pressing your palms against your face, —don’t like me?

the bowtruckle, entirely unimpressed by your spiral, drummed its tiny fingers against your wrist in quick, impatient taps, as if trying to snap you out of your overthinking. it chirped, as if telling you that everything was going to be alright, that remus was waiting for you, that he wanted you there with them, with him.

—easy for you to say, —you mumbled, adjusting your pocket so it could settle back in. —you’re effortlessly charming.

—i can't wait to meet her, remus, i bet she's super sweet, —lily said excitedly as she sat next to remus in the gryffindor common room.

—if she appears, —sirius added to make remus even more nervous.

—she will, —remus said with confidence, though a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. you weren’t the kind of person to throw yourself into new situations easily. he knew that. this was pushing you out of your comfort zone.

—yeah, of course she will, —james said with a smirk. —she can't miss this chance with our moony and we have to green light her.

—green light her? —remus couldn't believe what he was hearing.

—you thought we’d just let some wicked slytherin into your life without making sure she’s not, i don’t know, secretly plotting your demise? —sirius asked.

—and what if she’s not worthy of our dear, delicate remus? what if she can handle his brooding nature, his tragically poetic soul? —james added, pouting and pinching remus' cheeks.

—get off, —remus groaned, pushing james’ hands away.

peter laughed, —no, but they have a point. we just want to make sure she’s good enough for you, moony. you’ve been rejecting girls left and right for years, and now, suddenly, you’ve got someone special? we’re intrigued.

remus knew what peter meant by someone special and he wanted to brush off their teasing, to dismiss the idea that you were anything more than just a friend, but he couldn't say that you weren't someone special because you were, even if he couldn’t fully admit it yet.

—she's just a friend, —remus finally said, the words almost getting caught in his throat.

everyone waited for remus to say something more, or for someone to break the tension after what they'd just heard. james and sirius shared a look, lily bit her lip as she glanced between remus and the others, and peter raised his eyes from his book as if he had heard his friend tell the biggest lie in the world.

remus was annoyed by the sudden silence. —what? she's just a friend, —he repeated, like saying it enough times would make it true, like he was not only trying to convince his friends but also himself.

james nodded, —sure, mate.

in that moment, you knocked on the picture frame and remus stood up all of a sudden, so fast that lily barely had time to move her legs before he nearly tripped over them. james leaned back on the couch, elbowing sirius. —just a friend, huh?

remus ignored them, muttering something under his breath as he reached the portrait and pulled it open. you knocked three times, just as remus told you to. he wasn't allowed to tell you the gryffindor password, so this quiet signal was the best option. a part of you hoped he wouldn’t hear it, that you could leave before anyone noticed you were even there.

you still had time to turn around, to disappear and pretend this never happened. your pulse pounded in your ears, every muscle in your body tensed. you once were made for this—groups, attention, friendship that extended beyond hushed library corners and whispered conversations by the black lake—, but now you didn't know if you could take it.

then, the portrait swung open and remus stood there, looking at you like he knew exactly what you were thinking. he didn’t say anything at first, just studied you, like he was giving you one last chance to change your mind. but when you didn’t move, didn’t speak, he gave you a small smile.

—hi, —you said first, trying to act as if you weren't panicking inside.

—hey, —remus stepped aside to let you in. his eyes moved to the pocket on your slythetin shirt. —hey there, little one.

the bowtruckle peeked out, chirping softly at the familiar voice. it seemed completely at ease, unlike you, whose heart was pounding so hard you were sure remus could hear it. you stepped into the common room. it was nothing like slytherin's, you swore the warmth of the place not only radiated from the fireplace but from the people there, everyone seemed to exist in a kind of effortless friendship.

—don't get used to it, slytherin, you will have to return to your dungeon at some point, —sirius teased when he saw you analyzing the room.

remus looked at him in terror, that's how you were received? already kicking you out? he was going to apologize in behalf of his friend, how many times would he have to do that during the afternoon? but before he could say anything, you just shyly smiled.

—didn’t realize gryffindors were so territorial.

you fought to try and not to start shaking after saying that. you could handle teasing, you had been handling it all these years but no one made it in a friendly way. but with remus' friends, it felt lighter, even if you could still feel the weight of their attention on you. remus was surprised and a bit relieved that you had followed sirius's teasing with such ease. he expected maybe a little defensive, which he could've completely understand, but instead, you handled it just fine.

sirius grinned, clearly pleased that you weren’t intimidated. —oh, we are. especially when it comes to moony.

he extended his hand, an expectant look on his face, as if daring you to take it. you placed your hand in his, matching his energy as best you could.

—don't worry, he's the worst one out of all five, the rest of us are more normal, —james got up from his place on the couch and walked toward you, his signature smirk firmly in place. he also extended his hand and you shook it.

—yeah, i wouldn’t use the word normal to describe any of us… but we’re nice people, —peter added, also approaching you. you also shook his hand, with a small smile on his lips, entertained by them.

—for merlin's beard! you're here! —you heard a girl's voice say behind you, filled with excitement. you turned around just in time to see a redhead approaching, her green eyes bright with curiosity. before you could say anything, she wrapped her arms around you and your eyes widened in surprise.

in that moment, you realized just how long it had been since someone hugged you like this, like it was the most natural thing in the world. remus got a little scared because he knew you weren't used to people being as intense as lily, and for a second, he worried it might overwhelm you. but then, he watched as you slowly and hesitantly lifted your arms and hugged her back.

—i knew you'd come,— she said as she pulled back, holding your hands as if to confirm you were real. —they made it sound like you might run for the hills!

—we did not say that, —peter said.

—you implied it, —lily shot back with a knowing grin.

sirius, moved to sit on the couch as he smirked. —smart girl. she should have run.

you exhaled sharply, shaking your head. —believe me, i thought about it.

they all laughed but they knew that you were being serious.

remus should have been the one to lead the conversation, to make this easier for you. but he was too caught up in making sure nothing overwhelmed you, that no one said anything to make you second-guess being here. so it was james who took the lead instead.

—hmm, forgive lily, she's been dying to meet you, —james explained.

—yeah, remus talks about you all the time, how could i not?

in that moment, remus came back to reality, his ears and cheeks burning. you were unsure if you wanted to laugh or shrink into the floor. your heart pounded, not in fear, but in something close to warmth. if your bowtruckle didn’t have strict orders to not make an appearance, it would’ve already started chirping, betraying your secret because if remus talked about you… you were just as guilty. but thankfully, your tiny traitor stayed put.

—this is gonna be a fun evening, — sirius declared.

lily's lips parted to say something after she realized what she just said but, once again, james saved the situation.

—right, then! —he clapped his hands together. —since moony is too busy overthinking and evans is two seconds away from adopting you, i’ll be your official gryffindor tour guide for the evening. they can get the food and the drinks

lily rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, already pulling remus. —come on, moony, — she said. —we’ve got snack duty, apparently.

you nodded slowly, assuring remus that you'd be fine. then, once they left, you looked around the common room, there were so many things that it was hard to focus on just one. james noticed your distraction and nudged you lightly. —overwhelmed, are we?

—a bit, — you huffed a laugh and admitted, still glancing around.

—don’t worry, you’ll get used to it, —peter added.

—first, the fireplace, —james said, him and peter walked by your side around the common room to show you thing by thing. —you want warmth? you fight for a seat here. sirius practically lives on that couch.

—next, we have the best table for last-minute essay writing, —james gestured toward a large wooden table covered with at least three half-empty cups of tea.

—or for pretending to write essays while actually playing wizard’s chess, —peter added. —this is lily’s and your remus' preferred study spot. no one dares sit there when they're in one of their homework moods. but it’s been ages since remus last showed up here, hasn’t it, james? any idea why?

—oh, i wonder what could've possibly distracted him, —james added dramatically, stroking his chin like a detective solving a mystery. —could it be… a certain slytherin?

you felt the warmth rush to your cheeks as all eyes turned to you, their grins filled with mischief. in that moment, sirius appeared and threw his arm over your shoulder. you tensed for a second. first lily and now sirius. physical affection wasn't something you were used to but they were effortlessly casual about it, like this was just how things worked here.

—don’t worry, slytherin, —sirius said, smirking as he pulled you into his side like you’d been friends forever. his easygoing nature made it hard to feel uncomfortable. —we tease because we care. and because it’s fun. we know you're taking good care of our moony, you've even gotten him to enjoy herbology.

—leave her alone, —lily said, slipping between you and sirius.

remus and lily had just returned, bringing snacks and drinks, though it was remus carrying everything. lily, on the other hand, had hooked her arm through yours, gently tugging you away from sirius as if to physically shield you from any more teasing.

—i'll show you the rest of the common room, while they, —she shot a deadly glance to james, peter an remus, —go and help moony.

the three of them collectively let out a dramatic huff but moved to help remus with the rest of the snacks.

—they're too much, but you'll get used to them, —lily said as she guided you toward the next part of the common room. the wall was covered in moving photographs, some of past gryffindor students, others of current ones. —this is the unofficial gryffindor history wall, —lily explained. —you’ll find pictures of old quidditch teams, past hogwarts students and prank victims...

you stepped closer, eyes scanning the frames. there, in one of the more recent photographs, were remus, james, sirius, and peter, all together. you smiled a little. remus had that same soft expression, he was pushing his reading glasses up on his nose, clearly attempting to look composed for the picture but his friends were doing everything in their power to ruin that.

you felt lily nudge you softly, —saw something you like? —lily asked. your cheeks warmed slightly again, and you glanced at her, suddenly aware of how long you’d been staring. lily giggled and tightened her arm around yours as if silently telling you that everything was alright. —you two are adorable.

before you could attempt to defend yourself, a loud voice interrupted.

—oi! evans! stop stealing our slytherin!

lily rolled her eyes, annoyed because he wanted to spend more time alone with you. you two walked back to the fireplace where the four boys where. lily let go your arm and moved quickly to stop james from eating all her favorite snack. you lingered near the couches, suddenly unsure of where to sit. you weren’t sure of the unspoken rules there of who usually sat where.

—hey, —remus said from behind you. he held a magic chess in his hands, his warm brown eyes watching you carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort. —you okay? sorry my friends hoarded you. i apologize for them, but they mean well.

you nodded, —no need to apologize, i'm okay. they're fun.

remus gave you a small, relieved smile. —come sit with me.

you nodded again. you made your way over to the couch, and though it was only big enough for two, it was small enough that your leg brushed against his as you sat. lily and james shared a similar couch, just that she had her head resting on his legs. sirius had taken the armchair, with both of his legs hanging over the armrest. peter was sitting on the rug, his back against the space where sirius' legs were supposed to be hanging and a bowl of popcorn in his hands.

—why don't you tell us about yourself, slytherin?

you felt the sudden weight of their attention, all eyes now on you. it had been so long since anyone had been genuinely interested in what you had to say about yourself that you didn't even know where to start. the words felt stuck in your throat, and for a moment, you wondered if you should just retreat back into the comfortable silence you were used to.

you cleared your throat, trying to shake off the hesitation. you shifted slightly on the couch and remus moved his hand to rest on your leg, a subtle reminder that you were in a friendly space, with no judgment, no rush, just people who wanted to know you.

—what do you want to know? —you asked sirius back.

—your family. are they wizards? —peter asked before sirius could.

you shook your head. —no, i'm the only witch in my family.

—i'm also a muggle-born! —lily said, excited. james, sirius and peter told you that they were pure bloods and remus didn't need to tell you that he was a half-blood because you already knew that.

—what is your quidditch team?

—i don't... i don't really like quidditch.

the room fell silent for a moment. three pairs of eyes stared at you in various stages of shock, disbelief, and—on sirius’ part—betrayal. even lily blinked at you, surprised, though she didn’t look nearly as horrified as the boys did. you swallowed, waiting for an answer from them. did you say something wrong?

—you don’t like quidditch? —james repeated, as if the words physically pained him to say out loud. he placed a dramatic hand over his heart. —tell me you’re joking.

—i’m not, —you admitted with a small nervous smile. —i just never really got into it. i didn't grow up watching quidditch and i don't get along particularly well with the slytherin quidditch team.

—she has a point about the slytherin team, though, —lily chimed in, grabbing some gummies from the table. —they’re insufferable.

—moony, i can’t believe you brought us someone here someone who doesn’t like quidditch, —james complained loudly.

remus looked over at you with a small smile. —don’t listen to them. it’s not a requirement to like quidditch to be our friend.

—it should be, —sirius mumbled under his breath. lily threw him the gummy bear she had in her hand.

—what do you do for fun then? —peter asked, tilting his head curiously.

you hesitated for a moment, then answered, —i like reading.

you heard a collective huff coming from the other three boys and you couldn't help but giggle. remus had told you about they hated study time and the library, always trying to find ways to avoid it.

—see? brilliant hobby, —remus perked up immediately. —she also loves magical creatures.

sirius grinned. —careful, moony, sounds like you’ve met your perfect match.

you felt your face heat up at sirius’ words, although you didn't really understood his comment. out of the corner of your eye, you caught remus ducking his head slightly, suddenly very interested in adjusting his sweater sleeves.

—i think it’s great. magical creatures are fascinating. —lily said, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. she turned to you, her head still resting on james' legs, clearly eager to hear more. —what’s your favorite?

your thoughts drifted to the little creature you carried with you. the soft movement in your pocket reminded you of it—your bowtruckle, likely tucked in and sleeping by now. you ran a hand over your pocket, as if to reassure the tiny creature that it was still safe.

—well, —you started, your voice softer now as you spoke about something that was dear to you. —i think my favorite would have to be bowtruckles.

you saw the flicker of mischief appear on sirius' eyes when you mentioned bowtruckles and you knew he was going to ask you about it. that time at the beginning of the year when he and remus ran into you and saw your little friend.

—they're small, but they’re very clever. they’re experts at camouflaging themselves. but they’re also very loyal. if they trust you, they’ll protect you. i think that’s what I like the most about them.

for a moment, all of them looked at you closely, their expressions a mix of curiosity and surprise. you felt a slight knot form in your stomach as a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. had you said too much? overshared? remus, of course, was the first to offer a soft smile, his brown eyes warm and understanding.

—wow... that's so interesting, —james said. peter and lily hummed and nodded, agreeing with him. his eyes now softened with curiosity. —it’s... cool. you’ve got this whole different perspective on magic. i like it.

—you speak about bowtruckles as if you really know them, —sirius teased.

remus knew exactly what sirius was getting at. although remus already knew your bowtruckle, he also caught a glimpse of it on the train at the beginning of the year, no matter how much you had tried to act as if it had been nothing. —of course she knows them, —remus said smoothly, cutting sirius off before he could push further. —she just told you they're her favorites.

sirius rolled his eyes, —oh shut up, moony.

that nickname again. you'd been hearing it all evening. moony. it felt familiar on their tongues, effortless. you didn’t want to seem too nosy, but you finally couldn't hold it back. —i have to ask, what’s with the nickname? why moony?

the room fell silent for a brief moment. everyone else seemed to glance at remus. he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, as if trying to figure out how to explain it without revealing the truth. he wasn't ready for that yet. the mere thought of telling you made his stomach twist.

—in our first year at hogwarts, remus was so obsessed with astronomy, —james began, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face as if he was not telling the biggest lie ever, but he had to cover his friends back this time. he was sure that when remus was ready to tell you the truth, you’d understand. until then, this would have to do.

—yeah, he used to stay up all night with that bloody telescope of his, staring at the moon, —sirius added smoothly, catching on to james’ quick improvisation without hesitation.

—that's why we call him moony. he was obsessed, he knew more about the phases of the moon than any professor.

you hummed, nodding. it was odd. of all the time you'd spent with remus, he had never once mentioned his supposed passion for astronomy, nor the moon. you glanced at him, but he was focused on adjusting the chess pieces in front of him, as if willing himself not to look at you.

—i grew out of it, —remus said as if reading your mind.

—tragic, really, —james sighed, shaking his head. —all those sleepless nights, and for what? a nickname?

—enough about moony's past, —sirius said, —we’ve covered quidditch—disappointing answer, by the way. we’ve covered your special interests—very cool answer. what about dueling? potions? are you a secret prodigy in some terrifying slytherin skill?

you giggled, was he serious about this?

—have you ever cursed someone? —peter asked, leaning in a little, as if waiting for some grand confession.

james added. —yeah, i bet you know a ton of dark spells, don’t you?

—for merlin's beard! what are these questions? —remus exclaimed, rubbing his forehead as if trying to block out the absurdity of it all.

lily, equally horrified by the direction the conversation had taken, quickly stepped in. —do you play chess?

you let out a small laugh and nodded. sirius leaned back into the armchair with a pout.

—aw, no dark magic duels? no secret spells? —he teased.

—if you beat me at chess, we'll duel and i'll teach you some dark spells.

and sirius seemed satisfied because you two were the first ones to play. he wasted no time in making his first move, playing aggressively, clearly expecting you to struggle. but you didn't. with each move, you countered him easily. peter was the easiest to beat and james tried but just lasted a little longer than sirius. lily put up the best fight of them all, but after a long battle, she sighed, surrendering her king in resignation.

now, it was remus sitting on the floor in front of you, his legs crossed as he studied the board with quiet concentration. there was a little smile on his lips as he looked up at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back. the rest of them watched, a little amazed. there was something different about this match, something unspoken between you and remus as you played.

—they’re not even talking, —sirius whispered.

—they don’t need to, —lily murmured back, eyes flicking between the two of you.

james huffed, crossing his arms. —if they end up falling in love over a chessboard, i’m going to be so annoyed.

lily didn’t say anything else, but she could already see it. the way you and remus moved, the way you met each other’s gazes with soft smiles, the quiet ease between you—it was obvious. maybe not to the two of you just yet, but to everyone else in the room, it was as clear as day. the game ended in a draw, much to everyone's surprise. you extended your hand across the board to him, and remus took it with a light laugh.

the rest of the evening was just as great. you listened, content, as the group chatted about their various adventures, schoolwork, and the latest pranks they were planning for the next hogsmeade trip. you should come with us to hogsmeade the next time! lily said excited and they all agreed.

peter had taken your spot on the couch, leaving you and remus on the floor. your backs were leaning against the soft cushions. remus had hugged his legs to his chest, his knees drawn up as he rested his arms loosely around them. his attention on the group but his gaze drifting back to you every so often, as if checking in. every time your eyes met, there was that same unspoken connection, like a shared secret. you weren’t sure if he even realized he was doing it, but it made you feel seen in a way that was both comforting and... exciting.

it was comforting for him as well—seeing a happier look on your face, watching you laugh, relax, and get along so easily with his friends. their teasing had managed to break through your walls. maybe it was the way sirius had declared you not so bad for a slytherin. or the way james had groaned dramatically when you beat him, but still ruffled your hair like you were already one of them. maybe it was lily’s knowing looks, her quiet reassurances, or peter’s eager interest in your stories.

or maybe—just maybe—it was just remus.

because even now, as the conversation carried on around you, his presence beside you made you feel safe.

remus let go of his legs and one of his hands dropped to the floor right by yours. it wasn’t quite touching, but it was close enough that you could feel the warmth from his skin. you wondered if it was intentional. If he was testing the waters, seeing if you’d pull away. you didn’t. instead, your fingers twitched slightly, brushing against his just barely. it could have been an accident, a coincidence. but you knew it wasn’t when he turned his palm up, open—an invitation.

your fingers hesitated for only a moment before you moved your hand into his, your palm pressing lightly against his own as his fingers curled around yours. neither of you looked at each other, not directly. he kept his gaze ahead, pretending to listen to whatever his friends were saying, but you could see the small, pleased smile playing at the corner of his lips.

then, a soft chirping sound broke through the warmth of the moment. your bowtruckle, nestled in your pocket, had stirred, reminding you of something. your eyes went to the clock on the wall—it was late.

—oh, i should go, —you said interrupting the conversation as you stood from the floor, letting go remus' hands. every part of you wanted to stay just a little longer.

—i'll walk you to the dungeons, —remus stood up, brushing off his sweater as if the decision had already been made.

james smirked. —should we expect you back before sunrise, or…?

remus rolled his eyes as he grabbed his wand from the table. —hilarious. truly.

lily got up from the couch and went to hug you. this time you were ready to hug her back, —it’s been great meeting you, —she said as she pulled away, smiling. —i hope you join us again soon. in fact, i was planning to go over my potions homework tomorrow. maybe we can do it together?

—yeah, there’s also a quidditch match tomorrow. gryffindor versus hufflepuff. not the most exciting thing, but still worth watching. maybe when you and lily are done with your studying, you can join us, —james added.

you blinked, caught off guard by how easily they included you in her plans, —oh, yeah. that sounds nice, actually, —you admitted.

lily beamed. —perfect! i’ll save you a seat in the library. goodnight. and be careful, both of you.

peter offered a small wave and a genuine, goodnight, before turning back to the others. sirius, still lounging in the armchair, of course had to make the last joke of the evening, try not to hex our dear moony on the way down, yeah? we’re trusting you not to unleash one of your dark magic tricks on him. remus let out a sigh, shaking his head. you let out a little laugh with a goodbye sirius.

stepping out of the common room, you walked beside remus, your footsteps echoing slightly in the empty hallways, neither of you in a rush to reach your destination. his hands were tucked into the pockets of his pants, and you found yourself glancing at them more than once. after a moment, remus spoke, his voice softer now. —you fit in well with them.

you glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. —do i?

he nodded. —yeah. they definitely like you.

you let out a quiet chuckle, the sound almost nervous, as a strange sensation stirred in your chest, something you couldn’t quite decipher. —well, they don’t know me that well yet.

—they know enough, —he said simply.

the feeling in your chest was a mix of not having fit in with anyone for years and the satisfaction of finally finding people you were comfortable around. you almost wanted to ask what enough meant, would it be true what lily had said earlier, about how remus couldn't stop talking about you? the idea crossed your mind, making your stomach flutter. you weren’t sure if you could believe it. it felt safer to think that way, rather than consider the possibility that remus might actually think about you when you weren’t in the room.

but before you could ask him, remus gave a soft sigh, breaking the silence. —did you have fun?

you nodded, —so much fun. i didn’t expect it to be this… easy.

remus glanced over at you, his eyes softening in that familiar way they always did when he listened to you. he had a way of making you feel like what you said mattered, and that was something you weren’t used to.

—you know you hurt james' ego when you beat him at chess, right? especially in front of lily, —he said with a mischievous smile.

you chuckled. as you walked, the two of you chatted about the rest of the evening. only your laughter could be heard in the corridors of the castle. you watched as he pulled his hands out of his pockets, stretching his fingers slightly before letting them fall at his sides. if you were now the one reaching for it, would he let you?

you hesitated. maybe it was the late hour making you bold. your fingers twitched slightly, debating. testing. it would be so easy to just... let your fingers brush against his, to close the space between you. but before you could make a decision, the entrance to the slytherin dungeons came into view.

you swallowed, slowing your steps. too late.

—i’m glad you came tonight, —he said, his voice gentle. —it’s been nice, having you here.

for a moment, you just stood there, facing each other in the dim light of the castle corridor.

—thank you for inviting me, i had so much fun, —you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

remus nodded. a few seconds of silence stretched between you. he looked as if he wanted to say something more, something important, but the words never came. instead, he exhaled softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

—i... i should leave before filch finds us, —he finally said, his voice quieter now.

you gave a small chuckle. —yeah, wouldn’t want detention right when we have plans for tomorrow.

he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug. you melted into it. he smelled faintly of old parchment, chocolate, and something distinctly him—something comforting. you still remembered the first time he hugged you. you hadn’t known what to do with yourself. physical affection had never come naturally to you, and for a long time, you had simply stood there, unmoving, unsure of how to reciprocate. but now? now, you fit against him effortlessly, as if this had always been meant to happen.

his arms tightened slightly, just for a second, as if he wanted to hold on a little longer. you felt his heartbeat, steady and calm, before he finally exhaled and slowly pulled away. but not completely. as he moved back, his cheek brushed against yours, and for the briefest moment, his lips ghosted over your skin.

your breath hitched. it was barely a touch, more of an accident than an intention, but it sent a rush of warmth through you.

remus stayed there, really close to your face. his hesitation was brief, but you caught it—the way his dark brown eyes moved to look at your lips. and then, before either of you could think too much about it, he moved. slowly, carefully, like he was giving you a chance to pull away, remus leaned in. his nose brushed against yours, your breaths mingled in the small space between you, and then he finally closed the distance.

his lips met yours, soft and unsure at first, but when you didn’t pull away, when instead you tilted your head just slightly to meet him better, he deepened the kiss. his hand, warm and steady, found its way to your cheek, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw.

there was a knot in your stomach, tight and overwhelming. you had spent so long convincing yourself that this kind of intimacy wasn’t meant for you. your fingers curled tighter into the fabric of his sweater as if afraid that the moment might slip away too soon. and maybe remus felt the same, because just before he pulled back, he kissed you again—just once, a little firmer, like he was making sure this was real.

you looked down, shy, and remus laughed.

—i should really leave now, —he murmured, though he made no move to step away.

—yeah, —you said softly, but neither of you moved.

the castle was quiet around you, the dim light casting long shadows on the stone walls. it felt like you were standing in a moment just outside of time. remus exhaled slowly, as if gathering the will to actually leave. then, in one last act of hesitation, he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.

—goodnight, —he said against your skin.

you stood there for a moment after he left, your heart still racing, your lips still tingling. and then, with a quiet smile to yourself, you turned and made your way to the dungeons. as you walked, your bowtruckle peeked out of your pocket, tilting its tiny head before letting out a soft chirp.

—you should be sleeping, —you told it. your bowtruckle chirped again. you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small laugh that escaped you. —did that really happened? oh, don’t look at me like that, —you whispered. —it was just a kiss, —the little creature let out another noise before scurrying back into the folds of your robes, apparently satisfied with whatever it had seen.

when remus returned to the common room, he found lily still there, waiting. she didn’t say anything at first, just raised an eyebrow as he walked in. he sighed, already knowing where this was going.

—don’t make this a bigger deal than it is, —remus said, his tone more vulnerable than any of them were used to hearing. he plopped down on the sofa beside lily as he ran his hands over his face.

lily’s smile softened as she watched him with a sympathy. she reached over to gently nudge his shoulder, offering him a quiet kind of support.

—i don’t know what’s going on, alright? it’s complicated, and i don’t want to screw it up.

lily nodded, because she understood, because she knew him well enough to recognize the fear behind his hesitation. —you won't, —she said.

he sighed, leaning back into the sofa, staring at the dying embers in the fireplace. his fingers twitched like he wanted to fidget with something, like he had too much energy left from the night despite how tired he suddenly felt.

—what do you think of her?

—she's great, i think you two make a great pair and i think that you’re overthinking again.

—am i? —he asked, glancing at her.

—yes. —she nudged his arm gently. —you like her, don’t you?

his silence was answer enough.

—and she clearly likes you too, —lily continued. —she wouldn’t have stayed so long tonight if she didn’t.

she stretched, suppressing a yawn as she got up from the couch. remus let out a slow breath, sinking into the couch. the memory of the kiss still vivid on his mind. —i kissed her, —he admitted, almost like he was still processing it himself. the words slipping out as if saying them aloud would make it feel less overwhelming. he wasn’t even sure if he was talking to lily or just to himself, still processing the fact that it had happened at all.

lily’s eyes widened, but she quickly hid her expression into something more composed. —and?

—and it was… nice.

lily rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. —nice? that’s all you’re giving me?

remus huffed a laugh, shaking his head. —fine. it was really nice. terrifying, but nice.

lily grinned. —well, i think she’s good for you, and i think you should let yourself be happy for once. —she leaned to kiss the top of remus' head as a good night. as she turned toward the stairs leading to the girls' dormitory, she threw one last glance over her shoulder. —and for what it is worth, i think you shouldn't let the boys know that you are, you know... exchanging saliva with her, —

—for merlin’s beard, lily! —he exclaimed, interrupting her incredulous. exchanging saliva was the grossest way she could have put it.

lily only laughed, clearly pleased with herself. —unless, of course, you want them to start planning the wedding.

she left him alone in the common room, the only sounds left being the faint crackling of the dying fire and the occasional creak of the old castle settling around him. but in his mind, he could still hear your soft laugh. it was strange, how easily you had slipped into their group, how natural it had felt to have you there. even stranger was the way he had let himself get so caught up in it all—the chess match, the quiet moments, the warmth of your hand brushing against his. and then, the kiss.

remus exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. he should go to bed. merlin help him, because he knew he was already in too deep.

352 notes · View notes

ericscroptop · 8 months ago

Text

Work Hard, Play Harder

✧ pairing: bf! sunwoo x gf! reader

✦ genre: smut w/ hints of fluff

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, inexperienced and a bit shy reader, nervous/insecure about sex, fingering, dirty talk, c!m tasting from both, praising, pet names, cursing, kissing, marking, fluff

✦ word count: 5.4k words

✧ synopsis: you laying on his bed is so enticing. he can’t help that he wants to play with you and show your fried brain a little fun.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

How foolish of you to think even for a second that you’d be able to get homework done with Kim Sunwoo in the same room?

Normally, you’d get your assignments and whatnot done in isolation because you work best with minimal-to-zero distractions. But today, you’ve somehow let Sunwoo convince you to do homework in his bedroom.

The past couple days, you hadn’t seen your boyfriend much. Schedules were opposite and conflicting, so it was only today that each of you had a slot of free time.

Still, you recalled that you had a task to complete before a deadline that was approaching. The sooner you finished it, the better.

Today seemed like a perfect day to lock in, but Sunwoo kept texting you that he missed you so much, insisting you two should hang out.

While you also missed him, it would be the smarter choice to get your homework done before you hangout with him. Which, is what you tried to tell him. But while you were mid-text, he was already knocking on your door.

You lectured him for bothering you, knowing you’d fold for his big pleading eyes, plump pouty lips, and his sweet voice.

Next thing you know, he’s telling you to grab your laptop and book bag, and driving you over to his place to work on schoolwork together. There’s a few assignments he should probably get around to doing anyways, too. So, a study date it is then!

That’s how you found yourself lying on your stomach over his bed, head facing the end of it, laptop and other essentials spread out in front. Meanwhile, he sat with his back against his pillows and headboard, laptop sitting over his lap.

After about an hour of having small snacks, chatting, and catching up from the days you’ve been apart, (which is exactly why you needed to be locked up alone to avoid distractions like him), you sighed when you realized the time you let pass and recalled what you were supposed to be doing in the first place.

Perhaps it was good to recharge with Sunwoo before getting to work; that way, you both at least got some of that pent-up excitement out from not seeing each other.

Well… that’s what you had hoped.

Now, you each settled into your own spots on his bed, a blended playlist of you guys’ current favorite songs playing faintly in the back via his laptop. Some sound was needed to fill the silence while you two worked.

You bounced from tab to tab on your screen while you began researching and citing quotes for the paper you’re working on. It’s tedious and frustrating to craft it, but you’re determined to write a mean paper that’ll hopefully get you an A.

Every now and then, you’d just stare at your screen blankly, complaining mentally in discouragement, or trying to conjure up ideas for the way you phrase your next sentences. But in other moments, you get inspired and furiously type away, getting into the groove of having ideas flow out smoothly.

Sunwoo smiles to himself when he hears your fingers clicking the keys at an unremitting rhythm. It seems like you know what you’re doing, when in contrast, his discussion post prompt is sending daggers at him, patiently waiting for him to actually start it.

It’s not difficult to become distracted, especially given the fact that he’s doing something mundane like homework. It’s such a chore, one that was crucial to his academic success.

Bullshitting his assignment or procrastinating even more sounds inviting. Even you had your moments where you don’t try as hard and leave things till last minute because it’s exhausting to even think about. But Sunwoo said you guys would do homework, so he should get on it.

Your form working diligently on his bed only distracted him further. How could he focus when watching your engrossed state looked more appealing?

He’s unable to see your face of concentration, only listening to the occasional exasperated groans that would leave your throat, and watching the way your feet would sway in the air in different directions, at various tempos and patterns. He’s noticed how fidgety you’d get sometimes, particularly with your legs. Your feet also would rub together and draw shapes into his comforter while you worked.

It’s endearing to watch your habits, not aware that he has disregarded his discussion post to admire you instead.

As he’s observing the way your legs roamed freely, he shamelessly starts to wander his eyes over the rest of your body.

Since all you planned for today was to be swamped in your paper, you dressed comfortably. A baggy t-shirt and sweat shorts was your attire of the day.

Your legs are left exposed. He soaks in the detailing of your skin, and runs his eyes to your bottom.

Sunwoo likes to think he’s a respectful man, and you’d definitely agree. He’s always patient with you, respecting your boundaries and has always been a gentleman. He treats you like any other human— with kindness, but is extra affectionate and clingy because he’s obsessed with you.

He thinks highly of you. While he loves you for your personality and quirks, he also sees you as visually stunning. His heart pumps fondly and blood rushes when he eyes your physical features.

While decorous, he has to admit that he does stare at various parts of you for a little too long. How could he not in situations like now, where your rear is facing him? Somehow, your oversized shirt bunched upwards, leaving the swell of your ass for his viewing pleasure.

Even though you were clearly clothed, he still had an imagination. He started picturing how your ass would look unveiled. Thinking about exploring every curve of your body with his lips and hands. Wondering about what delicious sounds you’d make when doing naughty things with him.

Unconsciously, you were tantalizing him.

His mind is going towards the gutter. You’re just trying to write your paper like the good student you were, while he was yearning for some attention from you. You were on the bed together, but you made it clear you meant business.

Though, Sunwoo doesn’t think he can wait much longer to hold you for as long as he pleases.

“Baby, can you read this real quick for me?” he suddenly asks. His eyes are entreating as they look at the back of your head. He still has yet to write a single word for his assignment, meaning he just came up with an excuse for you to pay any mind to him. His laptop isn’t even over him anymore; it’s been pushed to the side.

“Gimme a sec.” you uttered, fingers typing quickly and face still directed towards your screen.

He grins mischievously in the short amount of time you finish writing out one last sentence before switching your focus towards him. The grin falters into a faint smile once you fully turn around, scooting up until you’re right next to him.

“You actually got some work done? I’m impressed.” you scoffed, prepared to read his assignment.

You see he doesn’t bring his laptop to his lap or hand it over to you, making you raise your brows in question. Instead, he makes the move of pulling you in between his legs.

“Hey! What are you doing! Stop—” you choked out but interrupted yourself with broken giggles due to how ticklish you were.

Your heart was pounding, startled and delirious as your form was now in between his legs. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you firmly with your back pressed against his chest.

His chin settles into your shoulder, turning his head to graze his lips over the shell of your ear.

“You’ve been working too hard. Let’s take a break, hm?”

You’re stiff as hell. You guys have kissed one another, made out, cuddled, took naps together, etc., but your body and mind still malfunctioned when you were this near to him.

All the focus centered on the tension from close proximity. You could hear his breathing and sense his air from such fanning over your neck and ear.

“You didn’t actually get anything done, did you?” you muttered, fingers clutching the skin of your thighs as he invaded your personal space. It’s not that you didn’t like it— quite the opposite, actually. You just didn’t know how to react.

“How can I when we haven’t properly spent time together?” he hums, pushing some of your hair back to start leaving soft kisses over your sensitive spots. Instinctively, you shut your eyes and angle your neck, succumbing to his tender gesture.

“Sunwoo… my paper.” you reminded him as his kisses were seemingly growing fervid. Somehow your shirt exposed your shoulder, riveting him to redirect his mouth to the spot. A hand of his rubs your clothed tummy, dragging wet kisses across the bare skin.

Your body shivers, goosebumps appearing instantly. Uninhibitedly, you squeezed your thighs and let out a shaky breath. Your body temperature was rising and you felt so small.

“It can wait. I can’t. I missed you so much.” he voices. His hands loosen from your stomach and he brings one of them to your hair, smoothing over your locks.

By this point, you gathered strength to turn your head somewhat to look at him. With his free veiny hand, he cups your cheek, searching every inch of your face with his orbs as if he’s trying to memorize it.

“Did you miss me, too? Tell me you missed me.” his big dark, yet soft eyes hold vulnerability and longing. His look leaves your throat parched, still growing hot all over. You even feel something akin to a heartbeat down south between your legs.

Sunwoo was so needful. That’s one of the things you liked about him. He was cool and collective to the public and friends, but when around you, he never abstained his openness about how much your presence soothed him.

“You know I always miss you.” you answered, still maintaining eye contact with him as he continued to hold your cheek. Deep down, he knew your answer but still wanted to be affirmed aloud. It contented him, but he needed you to touch him back now.

He takes initiative to close more distance between you two, leaning his face further until his nose is brushing against yours.

You can feel each other’s breath face to face. He brushes his features over yours, his nose and lips grazing past your own in a gentle back-and-forth motion.

“Kiss me, baby.” he ghosts over your lips. You’re breathless by just his teasing actions, your own nails digging into your thighs to keep yourself grounded.

It’s impossible to refuse his precious plead. He’s caught you like a fish on a hook. You fall for the bait of his charms, and connect your lips with his own.

The kisses shared start out moderate, lips meeting and touching, pressure light. Your back still rests against his chest, slightly at an angle to continuously kiss him. He keeps you near to his liking by not letting that one hand of his part from your face.

It doesn’t take long before a few tastes make you both greedy.

The sounds of your lips puckering and the sensation of one another’s appendage meeting together creates heightened sensations. You each start fighting for more. It evolves into something wetter, his tongue darting out to flick against yours, tongue tips touching.

Desperation clouded your mind with the way this has grown into making out. Sunwoo has your body unable to remain calm, wiggling and unthinkingly pushing your core down into his mattress

Your breathing alongside his, has grown heavier. Although whipped in chasing your lips, he clearly catches the low moan that lets out your throat.

The naughty sound has him smirking against your mouth. There’s excitement within him, mentally and physically. His manhood is getting pumped full of blood, warming up and swelling the more you two make out fiercely.

His lustful instincts get him to maneuver his free hand towards your thigh. Since your shorts were generously short, he had easy access to your bare skin. His palm and fingers stroked it, making your spine and pussy shiver at how close he was to your private area.

As you two continue with the fiery embrace, he’s only wishing for more contact and intimacy. His fingers start trailing towards your inner thigh, dangerously closer to your covered sex.

Having his hand near such a concealed and sensitive spot makes you shut your thighs together on impulse, thus squeezing his hand in the process.

You butt your back against him the more touchy he gets, causing you to take note of something firm prodding into your lower back.

If you’re not mistaken, you think that is his—

“You got me so hard, baby.” Sunwoo rumbles, parting lips for a moment to catch your breaths. He’s burning for more of you. And while he also is igniting something within you, you’re unfamiliar in what happens next.

“Feel that? It’s ‘cause of you doll.” he slightly pushes himself against you, as if you two aren’t already close together. His erection is hard to not notice now, bringing you interest yet anxiousness.

While you guys have been dating for a decent amount of time, there hasn’t been any initiation of doing anything past kissing and cuddling. You didn’t think much of it— as you were still a virgin. And as horny as you still got from time-to-time, you were a tiny bit apprehensive for the day you did do something sexual with someone.

You imagine that right now is when things go further for you two.

“Sunwoo… I haven’t… I’ve never…” your cheeks got hot and reddened, feeling a bit embarrassed to have this conversation. You didn’t want to let your boyfriend down or kill the mood.

He stilled behind you, eyes softening once your words clicked in his head. Your eyes avoided his own, fidgeting with your limbs.

Although you felt mortified, Sunwoo believes he should be the one to feel ashamed. You two never had the conversation of sex before, so how would he have known? But nevertheless, the last thing he’d want you to feel is distressed or cross a boundary he shouldn’t have.

“Shit… did I make you uncomfortable? Hey, look at me.” he thumbs your cheek with one hand while the other goes to enfold one of your own, holding it lovingly.

You do look at him, worried that you’d disappoint him with your lack of experience, palms all sweaty.

“I… I’ve never done anything past making out.” you admitted more clearly.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready or comfortable with it. I’m sorry if I got too carried away.” he offers you an apologetic look, still caressing your cheek delicately.

“We should get back to doing our homework. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” his voice is genuine, tinged with regret of letting his hormones loose.

The look on his face, the way he shows that he respects you, and his apology (that you believe was not needed but still kind), has you melting. He’s definitely sheepish, but you don’t want him feeling that way.

If anything, Sunwoo was working you up. Sexual frustration was becoming a bitch to you. Your core’s experiencing a wind of warmth, unable to dismiss it. You think you need some sort of alleviation.

“Babe,” you reached a hand up to his hair, shaking your head while massaging his fluffy strands.

“I really want to do stuff with you. So bad, Sunwoo.” there’s so much honestly within your words and tone, longing and sentiment coating your orbs.

“I just don’t know… I don’t know how i’ll react or if you’ll like me.” you almost whisper, suddenly insecure of yourself now that you’re admitting this aloud to your boyfriend.

Every now and then, you wondered what it would be like to get intimate with another person. It would be vulnerable for you to show your bare body to someone. You can’t help but overthink that Sunwoo might not feel satisfied with you, or that you wouldn’t enjoy it— possibly finding it uncomfortable, instead.

Without a doubt you trusted him, but fearing unfamiliar territory was natural. You simply didn’t know what to expect.

How would you know unless you actually tried it?

A scoff comes out of Sunwoo, followed by an empathetic smile.

“Of course I like you, silly girl.” he chuckles, reaching for the hand that was in his hair and connecting it with his own. He gives it a reassuring squeeze, prompting the corners of your lips to raise in seeing and hearing him make that gentle sound.

“I love you, Y/n.” I will cherish every part of you. You’re so damn beautiful.” he brings your hand to his lips, dotting soft kisses over your knuckles. His other hand stays on your hip protectively.

“You’re safe with me. I wanna treat my girl right. I’m yours.” he means all of it, clear sincerity as bright as day twined in his tone and words.

Hearing his words is dulcet to your ears. There’s this wave that washed over you. It’s like a sea that gets you lost. Lost but secure from his touches and statements.

“I want you to feel comfortable with me. You’re the priority here. If you don’t wanna do anything that’s completely fine.”

“But if you wanna, we can start slow. If you give me the okay, i’ll take care of where it aches.”

It feels like your tummy does a somersault at that. You’re positive your cheeks are flushing, all rosy with how he always knows the right things to say. He really does care about you.

As if on cue, your pussy throbs more when he acknowledges that it must be craving for some stimulation.

You’re feeling so shy about letting him see or touch your bare sex, but one look at those bambi eyes of his and you think you’re ready. Ready for Sunwoo to help pleasure you.

Amenability glazes your eyes when you look at him. Although still slightly lacking confidence, you’re sure you want to take your relationship somewhat further.

“Okay…” it comes out faintly from your voice. You pause for a few before gaining strength to speak up a bit. “Touch me, Sunwoo. Please.”

Sunwoo’s gaze is tender as you spoke with vulnerability, granting him permission to un shield a part of yourself that you reserved for someone you trust and care for deeply.

That someone being him.

A part of him is nervous to touch you. He’s not planning on going past fingering with you for now, but he still wants to make this an enjoyable experience for you.

Aside from that ounce of concern, his body is overly excited to reach third base with you. It’s been awhile since he’s sensually touched someone else. Your existence brought him so much warmth, and he often craved to have you in sexual ways.

He’s been a patient boy. And now, you were going to allow for him to rub you as he pleased.

He’s determined and delighted to give you some delectable pleasure. To show you how much he cares about you through this new form of intimacy.

You feel like you’re hallucinating and definitely are perspiring and clammy from anticipation. Even so, you weren’t going to let your nerves fuck you over. You wanted to try this.

Once more, he double checks to ensure your consent, and you simply nod with a positive ‘yes.’

“I’ll take it slow. Just relax for me and I’ll do all the work. Lemme know if you wanna stop or if anything hurts, alright, baby?

“I love you, Sunwoo.” you smiled, all misty eyed from how caring he was being in this moment.

“I love you, too, Y/n.” he returns your smile, then gravitates his lips towards yours. You kiss passionately, but the embrace of lips is still smooth. It further stresses the respect and cosmic attachment he has for you— and vice versa.

After lip locking, his hands begin to explore your skin. With you sitting in between his legs, he directs you to lean back comfortably. His hands creep their way under your shirt, tracing your bare sides up and down like he had all the time in the world.

He also patted at your stomach, smoothing over it protectively. Instead of diving his fingers straight into your sex, he wanted to ease up your body first to get used to these sensual touches of his.

Slithering downwards from your abdomen, he continues to love up on your body, massaging the flesh of your thighs.

It’s his mission and wish to soften your core and muscles, getting you to enjoy this moment. Additionally to his tactile movements, he pairs them with words laced with so much sugar that he’s starting to give you a rush.

“Body so soft.”

“Never wanna let you go.”

“You belong here in my arms, hm.”

“Such a sweet, sweet girl.”

In between compliments, he rotates from kissing your temple, cheek, and the corner of your mouth. Your head rests back against his shoulder, eyes resting shut as you feel yourself getting more and more comfortable and aroused by the minute.

When his dominant hand finally finds itself in between your legs and over your clothed crotch, your breathing grows shaky from him cupping at it, shivering at the hold.

“You okay?” he doesn’t remove his hand but stills it, making sure you’ve not grown uncomfortable.

To answer, your thighs squeeze his hand, willingly grinding down into it.

“Keep going, show me more.” you whimpered, getting Sunwoo to smug at your reaction to his efforts. Oh, just you wait.

“Gonna take off your shorts, hm?”

You let him do it, and when they’re off, your bottom is left in your cotton panties. They’re not the most sexy undergarment, and you honestly wish you would’ve worn a different pair. But that was not on Sunwoo’s mind at all.

All he cared about was that he’s one more layer closer to his treasure. He’s beyond excited to meet your pussy. The view of your soft panties being the only thing that comes in between his hand and your folds is heart-stopping.

His fingers experimentally touch your pussy lips through the fabric, slightly applying pressure teasingly. You quake at the touch, a breath stuck in your throat as he strokes the area.

His plump lips part and shift into an amused expression, pleased in how he’s getting you going.

“Hurry… please, Sunwoo.” you whined, cheeks definitely blushing at how overly needful you sound— and are.

A chuckle escapes from Sunwoo’s throat, “Patience, doll. You’ll get my fingers, ‘kay?”

Given how keyed up you are, he strips the last bit of fabric off with your cooperation. Now tossed away, your sex is exposed to the air, and Sunwoo finally gets to touch it raw.

His fingertips carefully sweep over your vulva, tonguing at his teeth when he feels moisture. You shyly mewl at the bare contact.

“Fuck, so wet for me. You excited, baby?” his throat rumbles.

You whined again, red-faced at the vulnerability of all this. In response, he kisses your cheek for comfort, still exploring your outside parts.

“Don’t be embarrassed. How can you be so cute and sexy, hm?”

Before you know it, he finds your clit and nudges at it with diligence, earning a squeak turned moan from you. Bingo.

It inclines you to push your hips upwards, squirming at your boyfriend touching you like this. It’s so different to have someone else play with your cunt. Different, but you can see yourself becoming addicted to it.

He only allows himself to tease your bundle of nerves for a few before diverting his fingers lower, starting to trace around your hole.

“Relax for me.” he murmurs. You let out a breath, allowing him to use his left hand to rub your knee in support, and encourages you to spread your legs out a little more. “Doing so good. Yeah, that’s it.”

After coaxing you, he unexpectedly removes his hand away from your sex. You huff out and draw your mouth open in confusion and protest, but nothing else comes out when you watch Sunwoo stick a finger in between his lips, too stunned at the close-up scene of something so erotic.

For extra insurance, he pops a finger in his mouth to lube it with saliva, lathering it well. He’s aiming for this to go as smoothly as possible.

He smirks while you watch, humming before taking it out and moving back to your cunt.

Once again, he circulates over your entrance, teasing you more before he at last, slips that one finger prudently past your slit.

A whimper bounces out of your mouth from the initial stretch, accommodating to the sensation of your boyfriend’s finger making its debut.

“Ahhh, mhm…”

“Shhhh… It’s okay, I gotchu. Gonna make this feel so good for you.” He gives you heartening kisses, still lingering not that far in yet, giving you time to soak it in slowly.

He’s pretty patient. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you. Even if you’re impatient for it, he keeps his movements gentle and careful.

A little at a time, he has a decent portion of his finger inserted. He doesn’t move immediately so you can fully adjust.

You then give him the green light, and so he starts playing with your inside.

His finger testingly swirls, intrigued to discover this new territory that gets to be his home— for hopefully forever.

Soft moans come out your mouth before you realize, and you’re suddenly too aware of this intimate situation, feeling like you’re getting a fever.

It’s taking everything in you to not squirm. You opt for burying your face into your boyfriend’s neck in attempt to cover more smutty sounds and burning face.

Sunwoo is displeased with that, though. He halts his finger, pausing any action.

Your brows furrow and the sudden lack of motion has you lifting your head up.

“Why’d you stop?” your eyes were filled with worry. Maybe he’s bored or something’s wrong?

“Don’t hide from me.” his voice is serious. “Lemme hear those pretty moans”

Oh.

His finger moves again. Only this time, he starts to curl it and begins a slow flow of driving it in and out of you.

“Hmmphhh!” you whimpered, breath shaky and heart beat ascending at how sensational it is to have someone fucking you with just their finger.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he smirks, not planning on stopping until he pushes you to your breaking point.

Your sex hormones are going wild, feening for incessant sexual pleasure until you can’t take it anymore.

You’re bucking down to meet the movement of his finger, it having grown not enough rather quicker than you anticipated. Sunwoo has to titter at that, wowed to see how fast you’ve adjusted, and yearn for more.

Since you’re so desperate, he doesn’t warn you when he pushes a second finger past your hole. You gasp, followed by a curse word at the additional stretch.

“Shit, this tight pussy must love me.” his voice is breathy and deep as he feels your walls grip at his fingers.

He’s fucking your cunt now with two fingers, gradually with more pressure and firmer. His fingers pump against the ridges of your walls, moving and bending them, thus bringing you highly concentrated pleasure to your core.

Your arousal soaks his long fingers, above turned on that your hot boyfriend’s hand is creating a new high for you that you thought was unimaginable.

He inflames you even more when he starts to nip at your neck. His mouth’s latched onto your skin while down below, his thrusts just become deeper and deeper. He’s too keen on giving you a divine time that you’d think about for the rest of your life.

“Right there, Sunwoo! Oh my God, s-so good!” you gasped out when he hits a spot that scratches your senses so good.

“Right there, huh?”

Luckily, your boy knows what he’s doing, so he continues to hit that spot continually and not let up. He believes now is when he enhances your brain and body further by making use of his thumb to position over your clit.

He thumbs at your swollen bud, massaging it in an unhurried, but consistent rhythm.

And that sparks something inside you lower region. If you thought your pussy was aching before, it definitely is now.

Your breaths sound quicker and he takes note of you bringing a thumb to your mouth, biting down on it while mewls still slip past your lips. His pumps persist while your walls suck his fingers in like a vacuum as he moves in and out.

Every sound and the sight of you writhing, unable to remain calm, encourages him to not dwindle down on his ministrations.

The pressure applied towards your clit is even but remains slow, making you savor every second of stimulation you get, gradually increasing and turning almost-tender to be touched.

Hot pangs hit in your belly, and you feel like you’re starting to sweat, blood pressure spiking. You’re whimpering pathetically, muscles burning and tensing to break free and let yourself collapse.

It’s clear to Sunwoo that you can’t handle this any longer, evident he’s going to bring you to cum.

Squishy sounds and breathy moans are harmonic to the ears while he’s focused on getting you to snap.

“Gonna cum on my fingers? Is baby girl gonna let my fingers get even more soaked with her cum?”

Mhmphhh! Su— Sunwoo.” you cry out.

“Go ‘head. Lemme feel it.” he coaxes, and like the good girl you are, you do let loose.

As your knot unties, you deeply moan, hand that was near your mouth now gripping at his comforter. Your orgasm takes over you, shivering slightly, ass and thighs becoming spastic.

Your eyes are heavy and you see stars that are sparkling and fading, any sounds coming from the two of you sounding distant as you come down.

“I’m so proud of you, doll.” he mumbles as you catch your breath, face falling into his neck. While his fingers still remain in you, he uses his free hand to caress your head, commending you for staying strong and cumming for him.

As you progressively revert closer back to normal, your mind softens, and you’re craving to melt against your boyfriend. You need to logout from reality, Sunwoo having tired you out from getting busy with your pussy.

He coos at you when he makes you whimper and lift your head at the removal of his fingers. To your surprise, he then gravitates those fingers towards his mouth, closing around them and seemingly drinking up whatever stuck to his digits.

Your eyebrows furrow, joined with the part of your lips at him willingly tasting your fluids. He just looks at you, making exaggerated sounds from sucking and sends you a flirty wink.

You shiver and divert your gaze in shyness, flushing as you look back curiously, watching him pull out his licked-clean fingers.

“I knew you’d taste good.” he growls from the act and your essence getting savored by his taste buds.

“Wanna try?” he asks like nothing, seeing that you’re not calling him out for it, just eyeing him inquisitively.

You don’t say anything, but you still have that look gracing your orbs. He dips his fingers down to your core again, lathering them up in more of your spilled cum. You feel tingly during those seconds that he does so, and he raises them up again, nodding at you if you wanted a taste, too.

Your face leaning in slowly is enough of an answer for him, so he goes to hold your chin with the other hand, delicately slipping his fingers into your hot mouth.

You kindly close around them, timidly licking a finger tip for just a second, then getting comfortable to lap up the rest of your own spills. Your teeth even rake over his digits and your eyes fluttered shut with a hum before opening them.

When you do, there still lays a cutey-appearance behind those eyes he adores, even with you licking your own cum.

From that moment, he recognizes that his obsession for you will be death of him.

“Fuck…” he breathes out, stroking the tip of your chin.

“That’s all you, baby girl.”

“So perfect.”

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

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jasonswhitetuftofhair · 1 year ago

Text

“Come at me, Baby”

Characters/Pairings : Jason Todd (Red Hood) x female!reader.

Synopsis : Jason and Reader spar and after training things get steamy filthy.

Content Warnings : SMUT. Slow burn. Poor writing. Lots of plot. Training/Sparring (reader learns combat). Curse words. Pet names. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasms. Protected sex. Size kink (barely noticeable). Oral (fem rec.). Fingering. Dry humping. Use of object as toy (Jason uses a muscle massage gun on you). Vaginal intercourse. Light bondage (Jason ties your hands w/ resistance bands). Reader insert (sorry). Aftercare.

Fandom : DC, Batman.

Word Count : 5202

Author’s Notes : First fic I’ve written. Like ever. Also, this is a repost; I originally posted this for the first time in October 23’ but I deleted it in December 23’ due to insecurity.

This week had been tiring. Multiple meetings, a lab breakout scare, a few late night patrols all on top of studying the material you’d been given had started to add up. All you wanted was to retire for the night, go to your room and take a nice, relaxing, long, hot bath. Gorge yourself with junk food and put your show on, and then sleep like the dead. But no, tonight called for an evening training session with your training instructor.

Jason. Jason Todd. Before you had entered the gym, you weren't sure if you would be up to train tonight. But watching him enter the double doors with his hot-as-hell all black tactical pants, skin tight athletic t-shirt and combat boot ensemble quickly made you reconsider. As if it was hard.

Ever since Bruce had finally gotten Jason to accept his proposal of conducting training sessions with everybody, you’ve been feeling like a sitting duck. You had been trying to hide your feelings from the older vigilante for a while now. A while as in since you first arrived at the manor. Nearly eight months had you been stumbling around whenever he was near, barely making eye contact and feeling like an idiot because of him. And you had been succeeding, too! Barely, but still. He didn't know anything and now with your new arrangement, how could he not pick up on the vibes you were sending out? It was only a matter of time before your feelings were compromised and you were left heartbroken and feeling like a fool, your friendship with him long gone.

It wasn't so bad, though. You had always been good at adapting and Jason wasn't necessarily bad on the eyes. It was kind of fun, too. His little dry humored remarks, shared inside jokes and just…him, made him good company. After all, he was your friend. You haven't known him long, but it still felt like you’ve known him forever. But that was the problem. Your friendship with him was too much of a treasure to have it be risked just because of a little crush. You’d rather be plagued by the overwhelming melancholy of your predicament than not have him at all. If the only way you could allow yourself to indulge in the feel of his hands on your body was when he was training you in combat, then that was something you were okay with settling for.

“Earth to Y/N. Um hellooooo, you there?” Jason’s equally teasing and concerned words pulled you from your trance you hadn't even realized you’d fallen into.

Your embarrassment quickly appeared on your face and didn't go unnoticed by him. “Yes! Sorry, I’m here.” Having been snapped out of your thoughts, you noticed that Jason had you held against him mid-air. You threw a punch at him, but he of course dodged it so you did what you first thought next. You tried to kick him in his side but he quickly grabbed your ankle and gently but strongly twisted it so that your body changed direction. Before you could lose balance and fall he grabbed your other thigh and caught your body against his, holding you to him. You didn't react at all, though, and his initial thought was that he crossed a line he didn't know of and did something to upset you. He called your name and you didn't answer the first time so he paused the lesson and brought you back to him.

He was a little worried, honestly. He knew you to be like this, often catching you staring off into space and likely daydreaming or stuck in deep thought. It was your expression, though. The mild sorrow, a little bit of adoration shining in those pretty eyes he loved so much, too.

“You sure? We can take a break if you need it,” he offers, gently smiling at you, “is everything okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?” he asks worriedly. Gazing into his eyes, your heart almost swells up. He looks so genuine, like it would hurt him if he hurt you and you let yourself pretend it's for other reasons. “Yes, I’m fine, promise. Just have a headache s’all.” It's enough to relax him just the slightest but he doesn't believe you. Your body language is just not convincing enough. He finally puts you down and lets his eyes skim all over you. He tells himself it's to check for signs of discontent or injury, but he knows he can't lie to himself. Youre just too fucking beautiful. He shakes himself out of it before the blood rushes south and gets back to the lesson.

“So. You really need to get out of the habit of kicking. It can't be your first instinct, sweetheart. You're exposing an entire limb to the enemy and you're not skilled enough yet to counter whatever it is they plan on doing. I know it's hard, but you need to really start implementing your upper body strength,” he explains to you, occasionally letting his fingers linger on your skin when showing you what the enemy could potentially do to you. You truly appreciate how gentle and accommodating he is when it comes to teaching you. You’ve seen him train with the others and sometimes his harsh tone is enough to make you jump even when his words are directed to someone else. He’s been so patient with you and the thought of him going out of his way to train your aversion-to-fighting self makes your heart flutter. You nod along with him, letting him know you haven't gone off to La La Land again.

“Alright. Come at me, honey,” he orders while positioning himself in the default defense stance. Legs strong, but ready to move. Arms by his side ready to catch and balance. Core strong and taut, chest puffed. Eyes on you, just as he likes it. He finds it adorable how clueless your little expression is. Eyes wandering all over the place, arms trying to find a good way to support yourself and legs waddling to their correct position. Like a baby deer learning how to walk. He hears your little words of encouragement to yourself and watches your eyes, watching the gears turn in your brain. While his focus is stuck on your pretty face, he doesn't notice your left hand curling behind you while you spin yourself around, pressing your back to his front. He grunts and catches your right hand before it can land around his bicep. You quickly move your feet backward and jump behind him, putting all your strength into kicking his back hamstring, but he’s already several steps ahead of you. He turns around before your foot can land and grabs your ankle, destabilizing your legs and grabbing your wrists, holding them tight in his right hand.

This of course leads his mind to other things, things that would involve this very position. You curl your leg around his stretched leg and twist your body around, landing you on top of him. Your legs straddling his abdomen and palms resting on his waist. He doesn't mind at all, though and senses a pause in your movement. He notices your tired expression, your flushed face and neck, the sweat on your hairline, neck and brow. You jump, as if just now realizing the position you had him in. You move to sit next to him and he moves into a sitting position, no longer back to floor. You flash him a cheeky grin, happy with yourself for winning this time.

“Did I do good?” you ask him excitedly and he chuckles, your pretty little smile having caused his heart to skip a beat. ‘Did I do good?’. That phrase would be on repeat in his brain for a little while, he could tell. The way you seeked his approval caused his groin to stir and he stood up, quick to distract himself.

“You did. I’m proud, that was much better. We’re gonna focus on your upper torso, now, okay?” He guides you to stand and places his hands on either sides of your shoulders, guiding you to stand in front of him. “I'm gonna throw at you, and you're going to block them.” He playfully wiggles his fist in front of you and you grab onto it giggling. Oh how he adores that sound. He sneakily aims and his fist appears next to your collarbone, you move your body out of the way. He does it again, this time it comes next to your left shoulder. You grab his wrist with both hands and block it. He doesn't miss the way you needed both hands to wrap around his wrist. He moves again, fist to the right of your face. Your eyes widen and he shushes you and you relax. You both know he wouldn't make a move to successfully cause you harm.

This goes on and on for what seems like forever. Your stamina has dwindled down a while ago and he can tell how tired you are. He thinks about cutting training early, but for his own selfish reasons he decides against it. He doesn't want your time together to end. Still, you're barely putting in any effort and you're certainly not trying to hide it from your instructor. His eyes haven't left you since the session began and he was very pleased with all the intel he’s received. Your short, panted breaths. The way your cheeks and neck flushed with that pretty shade of pink that suited you so well. Your wide eyes, how they seemed to sparkle under the annoyingly bright lights of the gym. How they seemed to water whenever he stared into them for too long. Your wobbling lip whenever you got a little too into it. How you went out of your way to put both of your hands on him, regardless of if it was beneficial or not. The way you didn't even move out of the way of his punches anymore. You just watched the muscles of his arms flex and wished they were around you instead.

“You gotta put in some more effort for me, princess. I know you can do it,” he tells you, cooing at the way you whine at him, silently wishing he would end training early. He chuckles. “C’mon, block em’, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes and try to muster up whatever strength left in your exhausted body. Your hands meet his and successfully block a hit. He doesn't forget how you rolled your eyes, though. What he wouldn't do to have you bent over his lap for that. He finishes with the punches and leads you to the equipment.

He stands you in front of the power rack looking thing, gripping your waist and holding you up, waiting for you to grab onto the handles on top. “Chin-ups. Fifteen of em’,” he tells you and you groan. He knows you hate chin ups. “Tsk, tsk. C’mon, princess. Don't make it twenty. These help with your shoulder and bicep strength. Use an underhand grip, palms facing you.” You sigh and get into position, starting what he told you to do. You made sure to be as dramatic as possible, though; you were too tired to keep the brat in you at bay. Jason, on the other hand, doesnt try to hide the way he is blatantly staring at your ass, thighs and waist. He burns the image in his mind and moves closer to you, holding onto your waist to make you feel secure.

You huff and sigh out, hoping he’ll give into you. Throughout the entirety of the session, his hands have been on you. His breath has been on your neck. The feel of his body on yours. Him in your proximity. It was frustrating. Having him so close, but far away. Little did you know he felt the same. His hands move to rub encouraging circles into your hips and you whimper out loud, to your embarrassment. He doesn't even try to hide his smirk, though. Once the exercises are done, he holds onto you, purposefully moving his big hands to rest on your ass, bringing you down. You’re done with his teasing and turn around, pressing your palms flat to his chest and keeping him at bay. You signal with your eyes that you’re not in the mood for the teasing and he coos, holding your face between his two hands. “Is there something you want, baby?” you whine and cry out for him trying to hide your face into his chest but he only lifts your chin back up so he can see you. “Come on, sweetheart, if you want something you have to ask for it.” “hmph! I want you to stop teasing me, Jason!” He smiles wickedly and lets you go. “Training is over,” he states simply and you sigh contentedly, walking to the locker room.

Before you can open it, though, Jason’s hand wraps around your wrist and you turn to him. “You didn't actually think I was done with you, did you?” he asks but doesn't wait for an answer. He opens the door to the locker room and guides you into it before locking the door. In an instant you're pressed against the door, cold wood on your back, and Jason’s mouth on yours. It's not much of a fight for dominance, his tongue having beat yours instantly. It feels heavenly. Not just the feel of his tongue in your mouth, tasting yours, but finally all this pent up tension leaving your body. You sigh into the kiss, Jason’s hand comes up behind your neck to grab the hair at the base and you mewl against him.

You were losing oxygen and his kisses traveled from your lips, to your chin, to your jaw, the sweet spot on your neck. His big hands wrapped tightly around your waist and the feel of his open-mouthed kisses on your neck has your jaw slack and breathing uneven. He smiles at the way you look like a puppy with your open mouth and panting, practically drooling.

“This okay, sweetheart?”

You were practically soaking through your panties by now and the tenderness of his words and low pitch of his voice certainly wasn't helping. You nod a yes and throw your head back at the feel of his harsh sucking on your neck and collarbone. He growls and spanks your bottom, “I need words, Y/N,” he commands and you whine out loud yet again. “Yes! Please, need you, Jason,” you tell him and that’s all he needs to hear.

Carrying the two of you, he picks you up and holds you against him. Your legs wrapped against his waist and he sits down on a bench, you still on his lap. His kisses don't stop and the feel is euphoric. His hands haven't stopped roaming your body. The feel of his big hands groping at your soft, supple flesh through the clothing separating you from him combined with just…him, was damn near enough to make you go crazy. You were tugging at his hair and pressing your face against the crook of his neck, desperate to smell his pheromones and your soft lips pressing kisses of your own against his neck had him hard against you already. When you felt his hardness against your tummy you gasped and tugged on his hair a tad bit harder and he moaned against you. Little curses left his mouth and you were seeing stars. Nothing had barely even happened and you were already this close to being admitted into Arkham Asylum.

Suddenly his hands paused their movements and his tone became one of seriousness. He grabbed your chin and forced your face towards his. Your pretty little glossed over eyes shining up into his had his breath hitch and for a split second he forgot what he needed to do. He could see the curiosity on your face, your teeth tugging your lower lip and he had to avert his eyes.

“Fuck, Y/N. I need to tell you something. I-I like you, Y/N. And not just in a friendship way. I understand—” he started but you cut him off, lurching towards him even more and grabbing his head between your hands, kissing him with a force you didn't know you could possess. He could feel you smile into the kiss and he let you have control this time. Not for long, though. He grabbed your hair into his fist and you gasped. “I-I like you, too, Jason. Have for a while now,” you mumbled against him and he grabbed your plump bottom with both hands, bringing your body flush with his. This only fueled the fire, though; his rock hard cock straining against his pants feeling your core against him had him clenching his jaw and closing his eyes, trying to control himself a little bit.

“I like you a lot, Jason. A lot a lot,” you whimpered against his lips and he smiled. You could see the genuinity in his eyes and the softness in his smile. He placed a gentle kiss against your forehead and then one on your nose and finally one on your lips. “I'm glad, sweetheart. Very glad,” and with that he grabbed your hips and shifted your legs a little bit. He forcedly rocked your clothed cunt against his hardness and your eyes closed, head tossed back. It was almost too much, too fucking much. You had been teased all night long and with all this foreplay you weren't sure if you would last. You tried to paw his hands off of your hips and stop your movement, but you just weren't strong enough. His devilish grin staring up at you, his pretty girl, had you whining and grow the ache in your pussy. “Stop, ‘s too much, stop, please, Jay,” you begged against him and all he could do was smile. “Stop? You want me to stop? But I’m not even doing anything, baby,” he teased. He knew he was teasing the damnit out of you. Even as you begged for mercy, there you were, still riding his clothed dick. You couldn't help but follow his lead though, your hips couldn't help but relish in the feeling of his hands tight on them, guiding you back and forth. Even if you wanted to you weren't sure if you could stop. God, it felt so good. Nothing you had ever felt like before. His hands on your hips and his mouth abusing your sensitive skin. The hardness of him grinding directly onto your clit. It was all so amazing.

He could tell you were close. He’s never had you before but he already knew all your tells. Your panting and labored breaths. The way you couldn't keep your eyes open. The stuttering of your hip movement. How you tried to get closer to him, even though you were flush to him. Gasps and whimpers leaving your mouth. Your hands tried to paw his hands away yet again. Think you’d learn the first time. His mouth went right back to sucking marks into your skin and he cooed at you. “C’mon, babygirl. You can do it. I know you need it, sweetheart. Just let go and cum for me,” he softly commanded. Hips following his words, your pace quickened and he ground you down onto him. His own hips jerked up and his cock spanked your core. Within moments the climax unraveled and you let out a screech. The white hot bliss greeted you and the power of your orgasm could be felt in every nerve ending of your body. You shook for a good thirty seconds and your vision went blurry. You slumped against him tiredly and he chuckled. His soothing hands rubbing circles into your back and sweet nothings helped calm you down and your high rode out. You lazily started unbuckling his belt and he grabbed your wrists, stopping you. Oh how you liked the feel of his hands grabbing you like that. “Tsk, tsk, Princess. ‘M not done with you yet.”

In an instant he was untying your shoe laces, kicking them off your feet and forcing your pants down to your ankles. His hands ripped your panties off and you were exposed. The brisk air was biting against your wet cunt and you gasped slightly. He raised you up against the lockers and wrapped your legs around his head, hands planted firmly on your ass holding you midair. The smell of your arousal and the previous orgasm dripping everywhere had him painfully hard. “Tell me if it's too much, baby, and I’ll stop, okay?” You whispered a ‘yes’ and he finally satiated his desire to have your cunt in his mouth. His mouth went straight for your clit and you shrieked at the feeling. His light little sucks on the nub had you rolling your eyes back and jerking your hips. Continuous moans leaving your mouth only encouraging him. He licked a stripe straight up and down the length of your pussy and his own moans left him. You tasted fucking delicious. Like everything he had imagined. All those times he imagined how you’d feel and he was finally fucking seeing for himself. He felt like a kid on goddamn Christmas, his hands tightening his grip on your ass. You were sure there’d be handprints in the morning. His thumb went to rub rough circles on your little bundle of nerves while he thrust his tongue in and out of your weeping hole. You started to cry out for him, hands pushing against his head and fingers gripping his hair attempting to pull him off of your pussy. Absolute the fuck not. He looked to his right and to his luck there was a set of resistance training bands hanging from a hook. He smirked and looked up at your fucked out face and he chuckled to himself. Holding you up with one hand, he reached to his side and grabbed a cable band. You watched his movement and saw what he was doing and your eyes widened. The kinky bitch. “C’mon, princess. Give em to me. Since you don't know how to keep your hands to yourself, I have to take em away from you,” he teased playfully condescending. He tied your hands together behind your back with the workout gear and he hummed satisfied with himself before resuming his meal. He was fucking merciless with his tongue and you soon learned your crush was a borderline sadist. His mouth wrapped around your clit and his sucks were harsh and unforgiving. Like a man starved, he ate you like you were the last source of hope for his soul. His finger started fucking you, too. He started with one but your drenched hole quickly accommodated for more. Soon enough you were on the brink of another orgasm and he forced it from you roughly. “Again, sweetness. You can cum again, cant you? Give me another.”

The orgasm brought tears to your eyes and you wouldn't stop shaking. Your thighs were quaking around his head and your back arched off of the cool metal of the lockers you were propped against. Toes curling, head thrown back, continuous moans and screams leaving your lips. Your second climax of the night arrived and you screamed into the locker room, little sobs leaving your ruined body. He let you ride out your orgasm against his tongue until he was fully content and gently brought you down, placing one last kiss against your lower body. He sucked his fingers that were just shoved inside you, not breaking eye contact with your tired eyes. He placed his forehead against your own and wiped away your tears.

“You okay, baby? Was that too much?” he asked worriedly. He didnt want to fuck up his first time with you and feared he lost control of himself. You smiled tiredly against him and shook your head lightly. “‘M okay, promise. Jus’ need you, Jason.” He smiled and shuffled you towards the mirror and sinks. He took off his shirt and laid it on the edge of one of the sinks he was about to bend you over. You realized it was for your comfort and smiled up at him, feeling your heart swell up. Even when he was about to absolutely obliterate your cunt, he still managed to be a gentleman. He unbuckled his pants and finally his cock sprung up. He sighed, finally feeling relief. He watched you stare at his size through the mirror, seeing your eyes widen and your teeth tug on your lip. He lightly guided you into the position he wanted you in and you sighed contently, feeling comforted by the thought you would finally be fucked by him. Watching him pull a condom out of nowhere and rip it open with his teeth had you on the edge of your seat. He sheathed himself with it and made sure everything was ready. “Ya’ ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked while lining his tip up with your entrance, smearing your wetness all around his head. You gasped and shouted a little “yes” and he chuckled, sinking in. Even with two orgasms loosening your little cunt up for him, he was still a little much to adjust to. Both of your heads tossed back in sync and you closed your eyes, sighing for him. You worked your hips against him, wanting to feel more. He grunted and grabbed you by your hair, bringing your head up to look in the mirror. “Keep your eyes up here, baby.”

Once you were fully adjusted to his size, he slid almost all the way out and then re-entered your warm, wet heat. It felt so good. He set a pace and it was so heavenly. You could cry with how good it felt. You both needed this, needed this release for all the pent up frustrations in your lives. Sounds of flesh smacking against flesh and his grunts and your little sighs filled the room and the smell of sex was heavy in the air. His hands were on either side of your hips and his eyes met yours in the mirror. It was fucking exotic. Seeing your eyes perfectly, watching the pleasure unravel on your face. Pleasure he was giving you. His pace quickened a hair and you gasped. Your hips moved backwards against him, in time with his thrusts. You felt him deeper and the perfect rhythm of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you almost hypnotized you. He smirked a little bit as he watched your fucked out face in the mirror. No thoughts, head empty. It was clear only pleasure was what you felt.

You didn't even notice him reaching above the both of you and retrieving something from the cabinet. Only when you heard the familiar buzzing noise did you wake up from the transe you were in and see what he had in the mirror. A muscle massage gun. For a moment you were a little confused, why was he hurt? Then you felt the big spherical head of the gun against your clit and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for the umpth time that night. He smiled and cooed at you from above. Yeah, he was definitely a sadist. He angled the gun a little bit to the left, wanting to overstimulate your abused little button. His thrusts hadnt ended and it was too fucking much. His pace was faster and harder and deeper now and had you both moaning up a storm. Your hands were finding themselves gripped onto the sink counter and you were struggling to keep your eyes open and in the mirror. He moved the massage gun setting higher and kept it firm against you. Your thighs were shaking and you were glad you were being held against the sink by him. You weren't sure you would be able to keep yourself up if you weren't.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Give me one more, please. I know you can. Cum for me, sweetheart.” You closed your eyes, feeling bliss about to erupt in you again. He quickly corrected you, though. His hand not being used to hold the machine to your clit came up to your throat, squeezing lightly on the sides. Not enough to cause genuine pain or prevent oxygen into your blood, just enough to give you that lightheadedness and in an instant you came on his cock. Your final orgasm was so intense and pleasurable—not surprisingly—and it lasted nearly thirty seconds. He removed the massage gun and returned both hands to your waist. His brutal thrusts as he chased his own orgasm helped you ride it all out. That blissful feeling that lasted longer than your orgasm did. All the stress leaving your body. Finally his sputtering hips stilled as he emptied his hot load into the condom and you whined, half wishing he was emptying himself into your wet little cunt instead. One day.

You both sighed and felt content again. You were sated and had finally gotten what you wanted. His loving palm rubbing circles into your lower belly, soothing you. He peppered light kisses on your skin and slowly slid out of your heat. He turned you around and kissed your forehead. All this loving kissing of his was making you wanna cry, it felt so good. Not just to be fucked right by him, but to have him, too. He was yours, now. And you were finally his. He grabbed your face between his palms and gazed lovingly into your eyes. “You okay, baby? Was that good? I didn't hurt you did I?” You smiled softly and nodded, “Yes, Jay. I'm perfect. You were amazing,” you reassured him with a blush.

He picked you up and sat you on the edge of the counter and got a washcloth from a basket, wetting it under the sink. He wiped the sweat and cum off your body and gave a kiss to each spot after it was clean. He helped dress you and by the time he was carrying you making his way to your room in the manor it was late. He opened your door and locked it behind him, leading you both to your attached bathroom. He undressed you again and turned on the shower. He lightly coaxed you in, seeing as you were so drowsy from all the night’s activities. He undressed himself and got in, lathering your body wash on a loofah and cleaning you. He wanted to make sure his baby was clean and cozy and content. When he was done washing you, he washed himself and enjoyed smelling like you a little too much. He carried you out of the shower and dried you off, clothing you in jammies and then put on some clothes you had stolen from him a while back.

He held you in his arms and you two cuddled each other all night long. You were his now and he couldn't be happier.

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ja3yun · 1 month ago

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The Sun that Always Burns | CH.3

sim jaeyun x fem!reader warnings: hurt and lots of yearning, mentions of alcohol and panic attack, honestly i think thats it! anything else lmk w.c: 13.2k synopsis: it has been four years since you left your old life and started building a new one. you have settled, found new friends, just about to graduate university. things are looking up. but when your best friend invites you to her sisters wedding, your new life if about to be flipped upside down. a/n: hi! it has been a loooong time but chapter 3 is here <33 a massive thank you for all your patience, i know you guys have probably forgot all about this but since i have written this part and having posted in like 3 months, it's only right i give you guys smthn! it's also my birthday so take this as a present. this chapter has no smut since it's a story arc but there are looots of emotion and plot in here so i hope you all enjoy it the same <3

chapter 2 | masterlist | chapter 4

Four years have passed since you left. Four years without a word to your family beyond a carefully chosen Christmas card, one without a return address or landmark, just enough to let them know you are alive but not enough to invite a response. Sometimes you stare at the cards before you send them, turning them over in your hands, wondering if it would make a difference if you added something more - just a sentence, a small glimpse into your life now. But you never do. You’re not sure they’d want to hear it. Or maybe you’re just afraid they wouldn’t.

Do they hate you for what you did? Would they slam the door in your face for leaving so abruptly? It’s a constant fear for you to imagine them cold and bitter because of your reckless decision.

You miss them in ways that are difficult to put into words, in the quiet moments that catch you off guard - the smell of your mother’s cooking that no restaurant has ever quite been able to replicate, the sound of your father’s laughter when he’s trying not to, the way your childhood bedroom always had a slight chill no matter the season. You missed every part of it, of your old life.

Sometimes you allow yourself to imagine going back, just for a visit, just to see them again. For your mum’s birthday, maybe, just to see how they’ve aged if at all, changed in any way. But the thought of it makes your chest tighten. You aren’t the person they remember. They knew the girl who ran, not the woman who’s learned how to stand still on her own.

College changed you. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. And you like to think it was for the better.

Eunseo had a lot to do with that. She was the first person to make you feel like you belonged in Avanti, sweeping into your life on the first day you moved in like a summer storm, full of light and noise, already knowing where everything was, who to avoid, which cafés made the best coffee. She was god sent.

You were a mess then, a crying, dismantled version of yourself, and she took you in without hesitation. At first, you thought she pitied you. Maybe she did. But as time went on, it became clear - Eunseo was simply the kind of person who loved with her whole heart, who saw someone in need and decided to stay.

You wouldn’t have made it without her.

Even after she graduated last year, she stayed close, finding a job nearby to remain in the city she loved. You see her often, and every time, you are more than grateful. Grateful for the nights she held you together when you thought you were falling apart after one too many pity parties, for the mornings she dragged you out of bed when all you wanted was to disappear into the blankets. She managed to turn the dark cloud that hovered over you into one with a rainbow, helping you appreciate that there is still some light even in bad weather.

Your college years have been full in the way you hoped they would be - studying late into the night, stumbling into parties you swore you wouldn’t go to, making the kind of questionable choices that are excused by your youth and recklessness.

But one thing you couldn’t do was fall in love.

You started having flings in your second year. Just casual fuck arounds - one-night stands, situationships that never turned into anything real. It was just to get the itch out of your system. A girl has needs and even your broken spirit needed a good fucking every so often - even if it is with questionable men that have so many red flags that you could stitch them together and lure in a bull to the pen.

Eunseo never questioned it either. “I support women’s rights,” she’d say, raising her glass with a smirk, “but more importantly, I support women’s wrongs.”

She never asked why you never settled down despite clearly being someone who craves love more than lust, she never pried, and you’re thankful for that. She was good like that.

However, even if she didn’t pry, your brain did a good job of keeping your reasoning for abandoning love at the forefront of your mind.

Jaeyun’s name hasn’t passed your lips in 1,460 days. A choice you made the moment you stepped off the bus in Pyeongchang. Yet, despite your best efforts, he never really left you. His name lived in the spaces between your thoughts, in the way every touch from another felt hollow, in the way no words ever settled in your chest the way his did. You learned to ignore it. To push it down. But it never disappeared.

Your heart still beats to the sound of his soul.

Still, you’ve built something for yourself here. You’re in your final year of University and oh so content with at least this aspect of your life. Happy, even. You found your way into film by accident, stumbling into a passion you hadn’t expected but now couldn’t imagine letting go of. An internship at Lift Media loomed on the horizon, the kind of opportunity you wouldn’t have dared to dream of before. For once, things felt like they were falling into place.

And yet, as much as your heart is filling up with other loves, you can’t shake the puppy-eyed boy out. He’s always going to take up space within your chest, always there, always loved by you.

You still thought about him every day. Wondered if he was happy. If he was enjoying Busan. If he had moved on. That last thought is the one you try to avoid, the one that leaves an ache in your chest when it creeps in late at night. You want him to be happy. Of course, you do. But selfishly, you don’t want to know if that happiness is because of someone else.

Someone who isn’t you.

“Helloooo? Y/N? Are you even listening?”

Eunseo waves a hand in front of your face, pulling you back to the present. You blink, realising you’ve been staring out of the café window, watching the way the autumn leaves gather in piles along the pavement, so free but connected. You turn back to her, sheepish.

“Of course,” you say, not very convincingly. “You were saying how much you love me and that we should get married.”

Eunseo scoffs, but her eyes are full of amusement. “Weirdly, you’re close.”

Your brow furrows as you set down your coffee. “Wait, really?” You love Eunseo, you do, but you’re not sure marrying her is on your bucket list. Sharing a bed with her for the rest of your life as she kicks purple bruises onto your skin doesn’t sound so appealing.

“Well, not us.” She gestures vaguely, fingers splaying in the air like she’s conjuring an image. “Marriage is involved, though.”

Your stomach drops. “Please don’t tell me you’re marrying Serim after, like, three dates.”

Park Serim; strong, devoted, and the only man who has been insane enough to put up with all of Eunseo’s schemes. She likes to vet her men before committing and it is a gruelling process - another reason you don’t want to tie the knot with her. But Serim is up for the challenge it seems, not phased by the silent treatment, her list of pros and cons that she literally sent to him so he could analyse and add on anything he thought she missed…he’s a perfect match for her.

She barks out a laugh, smacking the table. A few heads turn at her sudden outburst, but she doesn’t care. “I like him, but I’m not that insane. He hasn’t even passed the pussy eating test yet,” she smirks, “I’m testing that out next week.” Her pussy eating test, aka, he can make her cum at least two times from his tongue alone.

You shake your head as you pick up your coffee, taking a long contemplative sip. “So full of romance and wonder, Eunseo.” Your tone is light and carefree as she grunts, knowing you’ll never understand her process of finding a husband.

“Whatever, Y/N,” she leans forward, eyes burning with intent. “It’s my sister getting married.”

You nod, placing your coffee down on the table, remembering her mentioning it in passing. Eunseo doesn’t speak much about her family. Not because she doesn’t want to, but because she knows that it’s a touchy subject for you. You deflect at the mention of family or anything to do with your past, to be honest, so she doesn’t spout too much about the ins and outs of her own.

“She’s a control freak,” Eunseo continues. “Wants everything planned down to the last detail. And someone dropped out, which means there’s a spare seat at the wedding. And guess what? You’re free that weekend.”

You hesitate. You’ve never met her family. Despite her keeping her conversations about family to a minimum, she has invited you to gatherings before out of politeness, but you always declined, not wanting to impose. Or maybe, deep down, you weren’t ready to be surrounded by something that felt too much like home.

Eunseo reads your hesitation immediately, knowing you like her favourite recipe. “Come on, Y/N. Just this once. I checked your schedule and you have nothing on. I even have a dress for you. And you owe me one.”

Your eyes narrow. “For what?”

“Well, not yet,” she admits, grinning. “But I heard the best man is single, older than you and has these ridiculously big eyes that could melt stone. I’m setting you up with him.” Her face is smug and bright as she divulges her plan to you.

“So let me get this straight,” you quirk a brow, “I owe you for something that hasn’t even happened yet?”

“Details, details.” She waves a hand. “Please, Y/N. I want you to meet my family. Think of them as yours, yeah?”

That tugs at your heart a little. Your best friend offering you a place in her family is a privilege you don’t feel worthy of.

“Eunseo-” You’re about to decline, the words on the very tip of your tongue, but she’s already pouting, eyes big and imploring. She knows how to get you. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost before you’ve even begun. “Fine. I’ll come.”

The sun shifts, its light spilling through the window, warming your skin.

“Great!” Eunseo claps, practically bouncing in her seat. “We leave tomorrow.”

Your head snaps up. “Tomorrow?”

“Yep.” She stands, grabbing her bag. “We need to be there early for fittings and all that wedding stuff.”

You groan. “I thought the wedding wasn’t until Saturday?”

“Yeah, but I figured I’d drag you along early. Or, you know, you could drive yourself.” Her grin is wicked and knowing, teasing you.

You deadpan as you stand up to meet her eye level. “Fuck you. You know I can’t drive.”

She laughs, taking your hand. “And I still don’t understand how you’re 23 and can’t even handle a go-kart.”

You roll your eyes but smile. Maybe this will be good for you. Maybe, for once, you can let love surround you without thinking about…

Him.

___________

You fold the last of your clothes with carelessness, stuffing them into your suitcase as if cramming fabric into the confined space might also quiet the noise in your head. It’s been years since you last packed for anything, and as you stand in your small flat, staring down at the open case, it occurs to you how little you’ve really needed to.

Pyeongchang became your sanctuary once you left. The mountains, the crisp air, the rhythm of city life on the outskirts of something wild and untamed. It gave you a semblance of purpose or at least the illusion of one. Between coursework, bakery shifts, and your occasional attempts at being social, you never felt the urge to leave nor have you had the time. Every corner of this place holds something new, something untouched by your past.

And yet, here you are, packing. Again.

Your fingers brush over the worn handle of your suitcase, the same one you clutched so tightly four years ago when you boarded that bus and never looked back. It’s one of the few relics you’ve kept from that life, the only piece of baggage - literal or otherwise - that made the journey with you. Even now, just the sight of it stirs something uneasy in your stomach. The ghost of who you were then lingers in its scuffed corners and fading stitching, a silent witness to your agony.

Something about packing and the memories of your teenage self resurfacing makes you queasy and regretful that you accepted the invitation from Eunseo.

A wedding. Love. Commitment. Things that once felt sonin reach, but now only seem distant and abstract. Love, as you once knew it, is buried within the past, and the thought of surrounding yourself with it, watching people promise forever, eels like an exercise in masochism.

You experienced a love so potent with Jaeyun that it became part of your DNA, something that rooted itself in your bones and refused to let go, like a ghost haunting the walls of their old house as it tries to find its purpose before crossing over to death. It was unfiltered, all-consuming. It was real. Now, you see couples around you, holding hands in coffee shops, sharing quiet laughter in the bakery queue, and it all feels…less. Their love is not your love, not close. It never will be. You tell yourself it’s unfair to think this way, that you’re projecting a lost love onto theirs, planning the failure of each couple in your head to make you feel better about your own dead relationship, but that doesn’t stop the feeling from creeping in.

The ‘what ifs’ come next, as they always do. What if you had stayed? What if you had gone with him? Would you have a ring on your finger? A life mapped out together? Would you be standing in Eunseo’s sister’s place, preparing for your own wedding instead of just attending one? It’s a dangerous path to wander down, and you force yourself to step away before you drown in it.

You check the clock. 10:23am. That gives you roughly seven minutes until Eunseo arrives.

Your eyes drift across the room, checking for any loose ends before landing on the navy hoodie draped over the back of your chair. CERRITOS, bold and white, emblazoned across the chest. You don’t even remember putting it there - it usually stays tucked away, hidden from sight. Out of sight, out of mind. But of course, it never really is.

This was Jaeyun’s. His favourite. The one he pulled over your head when you were cold, the one he gave you after long nights tangled in his sheets, the one that smelled of him long after he stopped holding you. Eventually, it became yours in a quiet, unspoken exchange. He never asked for it back, only ever taking it to refresh his scent on the fabric before returning it to you, as if making sure his presence lingered even when he wasn’t there. He liked knowing you smelled like him - he told you once, with a grin and a kiss to your shoulder, that it made him feel like a wolf marking his mate.

Now, the fabric has lost its scent, but not its hold over you. You still wear it on the nights you miss him most, wrapping yourself in memories you can’t seem to shed. You tell yourself it’s just a hoodie. Just an object. But it’s not, and it never has been.

Your hands tighten around the fabric, pressing it to your chest for just a moment before you throw it into the suitcase. If this trip is going to be difficult - and you already know it will be - you at least deserve some small comfort.

Then, before your mind can spiral further, a car horn blares outside, the sound lingering just a second too long.

Eunseo.

You snap the suitcase shut, zipping it up with a finality that feels like sealing away something far heavier than clothing. With a deep breath, you grab the handle and step towards the door, forcing your feet to move forward. Whatever awaits you at this wedding, you’ll face it head-on.

Or at least, you’ll try.

_____

The drive to Eunseo’s parents’ house is smooth, the kind of journey that allows your mind to wander without urgency. The road bends gently, framed by towering trees that murmur in the summer breeze, their rustling leaves forming a soundscape of whispers - soft and full of life. You roll down the window, resting your head on your arm, letting the wind tangle through your messy hair. The air is thick with the scent of sun-warmed earth and pine, soothing in a way that makes your chest feel lighter, if only for a moment.

Eunseo is quiet when she drives, her usual stream of chatter absent. It’s one of the rare times she lets silence settle between you without filling it. You appreciate that about her - the way she understands when to pull you into her world of relentless energy and when to let you sit in your own thoughts. She knows you love a quiet drive, taking the time to just be. She hums under her breath to the Noah Kahan album she selected as she steers with one hand, the other drumming lightly against the wheel.

The further you go, the more the city thins out. Towering buildings are replaced with green fields, the occasional farmhouse dotting the landscape. It’s the kind of place that makes you forget about deadlines, unread messages, the gnawing ache of old memories. The sun feels warmer here, sinking golden fingers into your skin. You wonder if it’s always like this or if your nerves are just making you hyper-aware of everything.

By the time Eunseo pulls up to her family home, your breath catches.

House doesn’t feel like the right word. Estate, maybe. Mansion. Something too grand for you to comprehend. The building is decorated in cool ash-coloured stone, its towering windows reflecting the afternoon light. Ivy creeps up the sides in a random sprawl, woven with clusters of pink flowers that look bright and inviting. The driveway is lined with cherry blossom trees, their petals fluttering like confetti as Eunseo’s car disturbs the stillness.

The sheer scale of it is mesmerising. You knew Eunseo came from money - she’s joked about it often enough - but you didn’t realise she was this kind of rich. The kind that makes your worn-down suitcase - and you - feel even smaller against the backdrop of something so opulent.

Perhaps you should have known you were walking into boujee territory when you were passing by houses with more than one car in the driveway.

She grins at your expression, tapping the steering wheel. “We’re here!” Her voice is alight with excitement, eyes gleaming. You nod, making a silent promise to mirror her enthusiasm, even if a part of you still feels like you don’t belong here, or want to be here; you can’t ruin her time by being a debbie-downer

You step out, stretching your legs that grew stiff from the drive. The stairs leading up to the entrance are wide, a pristine white door waiting at the top like something out of a film. There’s a moment - just a passing flicker - where the sight of it triggers a memory. Not of this place, but of a conversation.

Those rich bitch houses are so ugly with their grand doors that look like you’re reaching heaven. I want as small a house as possible so I’m always close to you, no matter what room I’m in.

Jaeyun’s voice is so clear in your head it makes you pause mid-step. His bright smile and promise of a future you ripped away from him sit heavy on your heart. But you shake him off quickly, forcing your legs to move, dragging your suitcase up each step while holding your dress bag straight. Halfway up, you curse every rich person’s need to be extra and bigger to flaunt their money because your thighs are already burning.

The door swings open before you reach the top, revealing a broad-shouldered man with a beaming smile. “My baby!” Eunseo’s father’s voice booms, warm and full of unmistakable joy. He pulls her into a hug so tight you wonder if she can breathe.

You miss your father. It’s not a thought you allow yourself to dwell on often, but moments like this make it impossible to ignore. His comforting words, the piggyback rides, the way his oddly spiced cinnamon body wash would cling to his clothes - things you never realised you’d long for until they were no longer within reach.

“This must be Y/N! It only took four years to meet you,” Eunseo’s father laughs, deep and rich, before pulling you into a hug just as tight as the one he gave his daughter. There’s something about the way he embraces you that makes your throat tighten - a quiet kindness, an unspoken welcome. You return the hug with one arm, the other stretched outward to keep your dress from creasing.

“Thank you for having me. It’s an honour to be part of your daughter’s big day.” The words are easy, overly polite, but genuine. He steps back, his eyes crinkling with a warmth that makes you feel fuzzy inside. You understand where Eunseo gets her kindness from.

“You’re more than welcome here. Our home is yours.” He says it so definitely that you can’t help but feel for even a second that you belong here. “The party is in a few hours,” he tells you, gesturing towards the house. “The happy couple aren’t here, off running last-minute errands, but you’ll meet them tonight.” Then he turns, pointing up the grand staircase inside. “Eunseo will show you where you’re sleeping. If you need anything, me and the wife will be hovering around.”

She didn’t mention a party.

You barely have time to react before Eunseo grabs your wrist, practically vibrating with excitement. “You’re going to love them,” she gushes, dragging you inside. “They’re super nice, especially her man, literally like someone out of a hot cowboy Elsie Silver book - minus the cowboy and more geeky.”

You smile at her description. It’s nice that her sister has found someone with so many green flags. You’re not really one to hang around with good men these days, your rendezvous is strictly for men who don’t expect anything more from you than a quick fuck.

Although, if they’re as good as your best friend makes them out to be, you’re in for one loved-up week…Not the greatest outcome considering you still can’t look at a heart themed anything without bursting into tears at what could have been for you.

Still, you push it down, letting her pull you along and up the mansion’s stairs, her voice spilling over with enthusiasm as she titters about the night ahead.

Despite yourself, you smile. Maybe, just for tonight, you can let yourself exist without the weight of the past pressing down on you.

___

A few hours later, the hum of conversation and clinking flutes drifts up from the party below, a telltale sign that the engagement celebration is on full blast. Laughter rises but up here, in the quiet sanctuary of the bedroom, Eunseo is focused, curling a wispy strand of your hair with precision. The soft scent of heat and hairspray lingers between you.

You glance up at her, taking in how effortlessly beautiful she is. The way her bangs frame her face, how her naturally pouty lips curve into a smirk - she’s flawless in that unbothered way only she can be. You’re jealous.

“If you keep staring, I’ll literally take you on the bed,” she teases, flicking your forehead gently.

You laugh, shoving her shoulder in protest. “You wish.”

Puckering her lips dramatically, she leans in close as if she’s about to kiss you. You play along, tilting your chin up just enough to humour her. Life is easy with Eunseo, like floating down a calm river in a dingy, no effort, just the gentle push of the current guiding you forward. You used to be this way with Jaeyun.

Perhaps it’s the similarities between them that make you gravitate towards the girl so effortlessly.

“Alright, go get changed. I need to see my masterpiece complete.” She steps back, admiring her handiwork before marching over to grab the dress. Without warning, she thrusts it against your chest, eyes gleaming. “You’re gonna look amazing. That babe of a best man is gonna fall at your feet. Now, go.” She shoos you toward the ensuite with an exaggerated wave of her hand.

As you take the dress from her, a thought creeps into your mind. You hesitate, gripping the fabric a little tighter before asking, “How many people are actually going to be at this party?”

Eunseo turns back to you with an innocent blink, lips pursed as if contemplating how to break something gently. “Oh, you know,” she hums, twisting a curl of her own hair between her fingers, “just a few people.”

You narrow your eyes. “Eunseo.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” She throws up her hands. “A lot of people. Like, a lot a lot. The bride and groom are crazy popular. And I mean, not just with family - we’re talking old classmates, colleagues, some of their industry friends, all of our cousins… It’s basically a mini wedding before the wedding.” She claps her hands together in excitement.

Your stomach tightens. “Eunseo, I thought this was just a small gathering. Like, a family thing.”

“Oops?” She grins, clearly unbothered by the panic creeping into your expression. “Come on, it’s gonna be fun, and a good 80% of these people are only here for the party tonight, not the entire time.” The reassurance is welcomed but lacks the impact you need. If there are a lot of people down there, you need to find the quietest corner and hope the night passes quickly.

Parties are fine, you like them. It’s the ones where you can’t get wasted and fall over your own feet that are the issue.

“You’ll be the hottest one there, aside from me, obviously,” Eunseo smirks, eyes landing on the bag that contains the mystery dress. You let her pick it because you’re semi-hopeless at picking appropriate clothes for special events. Even in high school, if Yeji wasn’t picking your outfits for occasions, you were not going.

That’s one thing that hasn’t changed.

You groan, pressing your fingers against your temples. “I swear you do this on purpose.”

“Of course I do.” She winks. “Now, get changed before I dress you myself.”

You sigh but comply, stepping inside and locking the door behind you. The mirror greets you, reflecting the version of yourself that Eunseo has carefully crafted tonight.

Never in your life have you looked this beautiful.

For a moment, you just stare, taking it all in. The soft curls, the expertly blended makeup, the way your features seem more refined yet still wholly your own. It’s strange. You feel like you’ve shed something - some old version of yourself left behind to make way for…this.

With careful fingers, you unzip the garment bag. The fabric spills out in a cascade of deep, sultry red. You gasp.

“Um, Eunseo?” you call out hesitantly, holding the dress up against your body. It’s stunning. Silky, form-fitting, allure dripping from the seams - but far too sexy for a family event. “This dress is…”

“Hot,” she finishes for you from the other side of the door. “Now shut up and put it on. My cousins will be wearing something way sluttier, so you’re fine.”

Her nonchalant tone does little to reassure you, but it’s either this or the more conservative dress meant for the actual wedding. So, with a deep breath, you slip it on. The material hugs you in all the right places, cinching at the waist and draping over your hips like liquid. It’s been months, more like years, since you’ve worn anything this beautiful, since you’ve felt this beautiful.

Your fingers absentmindedly reach for your necklace, the familiar weight of the sun settling against your collarbone. The gold glows softly against the red fabric, a stark reminder of everything you’ve carried with you, even when you tried to leave it behind.

Honestly, you wanted to get rid of the necklace and replace it with something that had far less meaning than the burning orb and etched date attached to it. But you couldn’t. This wasn’t a massive blue diamond that you could through into the ocean, this was much more. This represented love.

When you open the door, Eunseo is waiting, now changed into a pastel blue dress that fits her like a glove. It’s modest in the arms and neckline, but a daring slit runs high up her thigh. Your jaw nearly drops at the sight of her.

She eyes you up and down with an approving nod. “Look at you! A literal goddess.” She takes your hands, giving them a little squeeze. “You ready to upstage my sister at her own engagement party?”

Your stomach flips. “Eunseo…you didn’t pick these outfits just to stand out, did you?”

She scoffs, feigning innocence. “Of course not! We’re just naturally hotter than everyone here - including her.” She grins mischievously before grabbing a shoebox from the bed. Inside is a pair of gold heels - the exact ones you had admired earlier while she was unpacking. She holds them out to you.

“Take these. You can kick them off whenever, but for the grand entrance, you need to be complete.” She waves a hand over you like an artist admiring their finished painting.

You shake your head with a chuckle, but there’s warmth spreading in your chest. Maybe, just for tonight, you can let yourself feel good about being seen.

Putting on the gold heels, you instantly gain four inches, rising to Eunseo’s eye level. You wobble slightly, adjusting to the unfamiliar height, but she steadies you with a firm grip on your arm.

“Ready to rock this bitch?” she asks, flashing you a devilish grin.

You take a deep breath, smoothing down the silky fabric of your dress before giving a resolute nod. Without hesitation, she latches onto your arm and drags you toward the staircase.

The moment you descend, you feel it. A shift in the air. Eyes - far too many of them - turning toward you with quiet intrigue. Conversations falter for the briefest moment, and though it lasts no more than a heartbeat, it’s enough to make your skin prickle. You feel like Hilary Duff when she cascades down the stairs at the Halloween Dance - beautiful and awe-stopping

Some gazes are appreciative, admiring even, but others linger in a way that makes your stomach turn. The ones that belong to men at least twice your age. The way they lick their lips makes you recoil. You resist the urge to fold your arms over your chest and focus on the buzz surrounding you instead.

God, you could use some Tequila Rose right about now.

It’s a scene straight out of a film - elegant and absurdly extravagant. Waiters weave effortlessly through the room, trays balanced with hors d’oeuvres so delicate they look like they belong in an art exhibit rather than in someone’s mouth. Champagne flutes glimmer under the glow of a massive chandelier, its crystals refracting light like a sky full of stars. Every surface is polished to perfection, from the marble floors beneath your heels to the sleek, gold-trimmed furniture arranged in intimate clusters throughout the space.

You try not to think about how much this all costs. The thought alone makes your bank account whimper in greed...or is it envy?

“This is insane,” you murmur under your breath, leaning slightly toward Eunseo.

She hums in agreement, though with far less concern . “Yeah, my parents don’t half-arse anything. Wait till you see the wedding.”

You scan the room, taking in the sea of impeccably dressed guests. Men in tailored suits and women draped in silks, their jewellery glinting as they gesture animatedly in conversation. The hum of laughter and clinking glasses creates a steady, lively backdrop.

Your eyes land on an older couple near the grand piano, deep in discussion. The woman wears a string of pearls that likely cost more than your entire tuition, and for a brief moment, you wonder if there’s anyone here generous - or drunk - enough to pay off your student loans.

“Don’t even think about it,” Eunseo says, nudging you playfully. She had a knack for reading your mind and as soon as she sees your eyes bulge out with dollar signs, she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You scoff. “What? One of these rich dudes could be my knight in shining Prada.”

Eunseo barks out a laugh before snatching two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, pressing one into your hand. “If you pull that off, I’ll personally bow at your feet and kindly ask you to get your new money bank to pay off my credit cards.”

Perhaps that’s one reason why you never knew just how wealthy Eunseo is. She never got handouts, everything was in her name which meant everything she bought, everything she owned, was entirely through her own hard work. She could easily ask her father for money - you can see that quite evidently now as you stand in the grand living room - but she never does.

Grinning, you clink your glass against hers before taking a tentative sip. The bubbles tickle your tongue. Definitely not the cheap kind you’re used to. You don’t know if you can go back to Tesco’s extra dry prosecco.

“Hey, Eunseo?” Your voice is steady, curious. “I just realised…I don’t know Yeoreum’s fiancé’s name.”

She pauses mid-sip of her champagne, then bursts out laughing, smacking your arm lightly. How could she forget to tell you? “Oh, that’s right! It’s Jaeyun.”

Your heart stutters. There are a lot of Jaeyuns in Korea. Jaeyun from TO1 could walk through that door for all you know. The name alone isn’t enough to set you off balance, not yet.

“Jake is what he goes by, though,” she adds, completely unaware that she has just set off a grenade inside you.

Jake.

Your stomach drops, so fast and so violently you feel like you might actually be sick. There might be a hundred Jaeyuns in this country, but how many also go by Jake? The odds feel astronomically slim, but you tell yourself, desperately, that maybe - fucking hopefully - it’s just a really strange coincidence. Maybe it’s some other Jake. Some other Jaeyun.

But then, the voices in the archway grow louder, and you know you’re out of time.

Yeoreum enters first, radiant and poised, her beauty effortlessly eclipsing every photograph Eunseo had shown you. And then behind her.. he steps in. Jaeyun.

Your Jaeyun.

The air leaves your lungs. Static floods your ears, drowning out the noise of distant conversation and glee. He’s greeting guests, shaking hands, smiling that easy, beautiful smile and all you can do is stand there as panic claws up your throat, like a cat clinging on to a curtain for dear life. Each step he takes towards you feels like a countdown to something catastrophic.

If your body would listen to you, you would be running, bolting out of the nearest exit, disappearing before he could see you. But you can’t move. You can’t breathe. You can only watch, helpless, as he draws closer.

He looks different, yet exactly the same somehow. Sharper, his boyish softness long gone. His face has hardened in the way time does to people, more defined now, but those eyes, fuck, they haven’t changed at all. He’s wearing a black suit, tailored to perfection, he’s wearing no shirt under his low-cut v-neck blazer, exposing tanned skin and the chain resting against his collarbone - the same chain you’ve had dangling in your face as he made love to you. His hair is slicked back, though a few strands have rebelliously fallen forward, framing his face in the way they haven’t before

He looks expensive. He looks effortless.

He looks like home.

Eunseo says something to you, her voice getting lost to the sound of your thumping heart. Because now, Jaeyun’s gaze lands on you, and in an instant, everything shifts.

His body stills. His expression freezes, and just for a second a flicker of recognition, disbelief, and unreadable awe falls over his features. He turns toward you instinctively, as if the force pulling you two together still exists, still lingers after all this time. And that realisation terrifies you.

“Eunseo!” Yeoreum’s voice breaks through the tension, bright and oblivious to the cloud of thick anguish as she rushes forward, throwing her arms around her sister. “Oh my god, I missed you!”

Eunseo grins, squeezing her back. “Missed you too, brat.”

“Jakey, come here,” Yeoreum calls, beckoning Jaeyun closer. He moves without breaking eye contact with you, his steps measured, cautious, like he’s approaching something fragile. He doesn’t quite believe you’re real, you can tell it in the way his eyes are screaming in confusion and adoration, like you’re some sick pre-wedding prank.

“You must be Y/N,” Yeoreum says, beaming at you. “Eunseo talks about you all the time!”

She is stunning. Warm and kind in a way that feels effortless, her presence somehow golden, just like her sister. She is perfect.

Perfect for him.

The realisation claws at your insides, and you feel like you might actually fall apart at any moment.

Still, you plaster on a smile, pushing every emotion deep, deep down. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you say, voice just barely holding steady. You hug her lightly, stealing one last glance at Jaeyun while she can’t see you. His expression is unreadable, his lips parted slightly like he wants to say something, but no words come out. His eyes…they are still the same. Still looking at you like you are everything.

You force yourself to turn back to Yeoreum, ignoring the burning in your throat. “Congratulations,” you say quickly, like ripping off a plaster, your skin tearing as the word leaves your lips. How can you be happy when she’s the one holding the love of your life’s heart in their hands.

“Aw, thank you!” she smiles so appreciatively, and you want to scream.

It’s too much. All of it. The weight of the past, the suffocating closeness of him, the way your body still reacts to him like no time has passed at all. It’s too much.

“Excuse me,” you blurt, already stepping back. “I’m just going to the restroom, I’ll be right back.”

You don’t wait for a response. You don’t care if anyone calls after you. You just turn and leave, weaving through the crowd, heart pounding in your ears. Each breath feels too shallow, your chest tightening as you break into a near-run up the stairs.

The moment you reach the guest room, you push the door open and slip inside, shutting it quickly behind you. And then finally, you allow yourself to exhale. A shuddering, ragged breath as you clutch your chest, fingers trembling.

How? How out of every man in this world, out of every best friend’s sister’s fiancé, did it have to be him?

You stand in the middle of the room, eyes squeezed shut as you replay the last five minutes over and over again, like a nightmare on a continuous loop. The sound of his voice, the way he looked at you, the way your body responded before your mind could catch up.

The past was supposed to stay buried. But now, it’s here. It’s him. And there is nowhere left to run.

“Y/N?”

The Australian accent cuts through the air like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. You turn slowly because moving too fast might shatter you, seeing him too quickly might make your bones dissolve and heart shatter all over again. And then there he is.

Jaeyun. The boy you once knew, now a man, standing mere inches away. His eyes lock onto yours, widening in disbelief, and before you can react, his hands are on your face, fingers trembling as they cradle your cheeks, his palms pulsing with fear and excitement, joy and apprehension. His body presses against yours, so close you can feel the warmth of him, the steady, aching pulse of a heart that once beat only for you.

“Baby,” he breathes, the word breaking apart in the space between you. His eyes scan your face like he’s trying to commit you to memory, to prove to himself that you’re not a cruel hallucination. “Where did you go?”

The anguish in his voice nearly undoes you. It’s raw, unguarded, desperate. That way this is his first question, no anger or disdain towards you in the slightest - even if you did deserve it. No. It’s pure love still laced in every syllable. Somehow, you wonder if it would be easier if he just blew up, told you to fuck off and never come back because right now, the way he’s drinking you in like you’re his entire world still, makes everything much harder.

Instinctively, your hands fly up, gripping his wrists as you squeeze your eyes shut. The weight of the years crashes over you, the memories pressing into every crevice of your being. You have missed his touch. Although his hands are a little rougher, they still hold the gentle fondness they used to.

“Princess,” he whispers out the pet name so easily, like not a moment has passed. His forehead presses against yours, his breath unsteady as he finds words to plead. “Please talk to me.”

Jaeyun’s hands drift from your face, tracing down your shoulders, his touch hesitant, reverent yet firm like he’s afraid you might disappear again. His eyes flicker over your features, drinking in the changes, the subtle marks of time. You are older, wiser, perhaps a little more guarded, but you are still you. Still the girl he once loved. The girl he still-

His voice cracks. “What happened? Why did you leave?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, fighting to steady your breath. And then, finally, you speak, holding in a gigantic sob. “You’re...engaged.”

Probably not the first thing he was expecting you to say after four years.

The words land between you like a grenade, blowing up the fairytale and bringing him back to reality. His hands drop from your skin, leaving behind a coldness that seeps into your bones. He stares at you, mouth parted slightly, struggling to process the weight of your statement.

He can’t deny it or pretend it’s not happening. He is marrying someone. Someone who isn’t you. The last time he looked into your eyes, felt you under his fingertips, he had promised you were the girl he would get on one knee for - he even gave you a ring as a placeholder for when the day would come.

“She seems nice,” you add, voice barely above a whisper as you try and act put together.

His jaw tightens. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend.” His voice is quiet, but there’s a storm of anguish brewing beneath the surface. “Don’t act like this doesn’t hurt you too. Don’t make it seem like I’m the only one breaking right now.”

Your breath catches. He’s so raw with his feelings and you can still read every single one of them. He’s upset, delirious, confused, and still stricken with love. That’s why it hurts to watch you pretend that this isn’t affecting you too. In fact, this should be affecting you more yet he’s the one with trembling hands and a bruised heart.

Jaeyun exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair before gesturing helplessly toward you. “I looked for you everywhere,” he says, his voice raw. “I spent months trying to find you.”

You knew that already. Of course, you did. Deep down you would have guessed that his threat to search over the country for you was more than a false promise. But for months? You thought maybe a few weeks, a couple of sleepless nights before he would have left for Busan and moved on. But months?

His voice wavers. “What did I do?”

Your heart clenches. “Nothing.” It’s the first question you truly answer and it only leads to more queries in his fragile heart.

Jaeyun shakes his head as he refuses to accept the answer. “You don’t just abandon people you love, Y/N. Not like that. Not us.” He hesitates, his eyes searching yours. “There had to be something I did to make you fall out of-”

“Jake!”

The voice cuts through the moment like a knife though distant in the hallway. You flinch, your head bowing instinctively as your heart pounds against your ribs.

Jaeyun turns slightly, his body still half-angled toward you as if reluctant to pull away completely. His eyes beg you for something - an answer, an excuse, anything. But you have nothing left to give him.

“Y/N, please,” Jaeyun wants to hold you, kiss you, to have you wrapped up in his embrace the way you should be. He needs to understand what happened but he can’t. Not right now. Not at his fucking engagement party. “Don’t leave me again, baby, please.” His voice is quiet, despair etched within his tone as he cuts you off. He cannot lose you again, not without some semblance of an answer.

His gaze flickers downward, landing on the delicate gold chain around your neck. His chain. The one he gave you years ago, the one you never stopped wearing. He inhales sharply, his eyes tracing the familiar shape of the pendant. There is still some hope within him, the gleam of the necklace in the light mirroring his faith that you still love him somehow. When he looks back up at you, he looks undone but resolute.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs as though it’s a secret just for you, scared that the girl he’s promised his name to downstairs might overhear. “Just like always.”

“Jake, your dad’s about to give a speech-”

Heeseung’s voice carries through the room but Jaeyun doesn’t move. Neither do you.

Stepping inside, Heeseung’s footsteps falter as his eyes land on you. He freezes, his expression shifting from confusion to something darker. For years, Heeseung tried to let go of his anger, convinced himself that seeing Jaeyun happy with Yeoreum was enough to forgive the past. But now, the resentment simmers beneath his skin, clawing its way back up as he stares at you. The audacity of you.

“Y/N?” His tone is cutthroat, his disbelief barely contained. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

You don’t look at him. You don’t dare.

“You should go,” you murmur, forcing the words past the lump in your throat. “I’ll leave in the morning.”

“Don’t,” Jaeyun pleads, eyes blown out with panic. “Don’t walk away again…”

You shut your eyes. You can’t do this. Not now. Not here.

Brushing past him and Heeseung, you make your way to the door, ignoring the way Jaeyun’s fingers graze your wrist in a desperate attempt to hold onto you. You don’t stop. You don’t look back.

The moment you step out into the hallway, the world feels unbearably loud. His family is here. His friends. People from a past you wanted to erase. Your vision blurs, the weight of it all pressing down on you as you rush down the stairs, each step echoing in your ears.

You aren’t paying attention when you collide with someone at the base of the staircase, the impact jolting you back into reality.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, bowing quickly, hands trembling at your sides.

“Y/N?”

This time, it’s Mr. Sim’s voice that grabs your attention. It quivers with astonishment, his eyes widening as they land on you. “What are you doing here?” He steps closer, his head tilting slightly to level with yours as if trying to confirm that you are, in fact, real, much like Jaeyun had just done. “What-” His voice falters, words escaping him as he looks at the girl he once believed would marry his son.

You swallow thickly, forcing yourself to bow respectfully. “Mr. Sim, it’s nice to see you again.” You speak evenly, though you avoid his eyes. “I’m sure you’re very proud of Jaeyun.”

“Sweetheart, we thought something awful had happened to you.” The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, forcing you to meet his gaze. Heartache carves deep lines into his features, the weight of unspoken words pressing between you. “Your mum and dad haven’t stopped worrying about you.”

Those words almost cause you to break, hearing about the pain you’ve put your parents through, but luckily a gentle hand touches your shoulder, grounding you. Eunseo - your saving grace.

“Girl, there you are! You took one long bathroom break.” She laughs, blissfully unaware of the storm swirling inside you. She bows politely to Mr. Sim. “Ready for your speech, Sir?”

Mr. Sim studies you a moment longer before returning Eunseo’s bow. “I’ve been preparing this speech for years,” he says with a tight-lipped smile, “only needed a few minor tweaks.”

His eyes flicker over you one last time before he heads down the stairs. You know. You know exactly what he meant - he had once imagined giving this speech at your engagement party, the one that everyone who knew you and Jaeyun had already planned - he didn’t think someone else would be in your place.

Eunseo’s grip tightens on your hand, guiding you toward the dining hall, where the room is fully alive, unaware of the inner turmoil you’re facing. Your chest tightens as Jaeyun strolls in behind Heeseung, hands casually tucked in his pockets - until he sees her. His future wife - Yeoreum. A soft smile graces his lips as he pulls her into his side. The action is effortless, instinctive.

And it shatters you.

It should be you.

You should be marrying him, taking his second name, waking up to him every morning for the rest of your life. Your body quakes with a need to be close to him, that quick taste of his touch on your skin clearly not enough to curb your appetite for his love.

A fork clinks against a wine glass, drawing everyone’s attention. Mr. Sim clears his throat, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Thank you, everyone, for coming. I’ll keep this short, considering I’m sure you’re all sick of us talking - especially with a free bar in the room.” Laughter erupts, and you watch as Yeoreum beams up at Jaeyun.

It’s unbearable.

“My son,” Mr. Sim continues, “has always been someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, who gives one hundred percent of himself to the person he loves.” His eyes find yours, and you stop breathing. “Jaeyun deserves someone who loves him unconditionally, without prejudice, without pride, and always with his best interest in mind. And I believe he’s found that.”

The walls close in. Your vision blurs, and suddenly, the air is too thick, the weight of the past and present crushing you all at once.

You bolt.

Bursting through the entrance of the house, you gasp for air, chest rising and falling in erratic movements. Your fingers claw at your collarbone as if that alone will release the unbearable pressure, but nothing helps. The panic sets in quickly and you find yourself falling onto the steps, the cold stone under you doing little to wake you from this nightmare.

This cannot be happening. It can’t be. You’re sick, you’re hurt…and it’s all your fucking fault.

A hand touches your shoulder, warm and steady. Words reach your ears, muffled by the chaos in your head. You don’t understand them at first, but then the voice becomes clearer.

“Breathe for me, Y/N. He-He-Hoo, or whatever.”

You blink, dazed, as you look up to find Heeseung crouched in front of you. His Bambi-like eyes soften as he rubs soothing circles into your arms. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Just keep breathing.” The world slowly steadies and your vision clears enough to focus on him. “Keep doing that for me, okay?”

Tears well in your eyes, the lingering pressure of it all threatening to drown you. Heeseung notices. He always does somehow. “Hey, look at me, Y/N. Tell me about that band you used to love back in the day.” His voice is gentle, coaxing you away from the edge - it’s a contrast to how he acted a mere few minutes ago in the room. “The one Jaeyun was always jealous of because you had that rapper as your lock screen?”

A small, watery laugh escapes you. “Monsta X?”

His lips twitch into a grin. “Yeah, them. They still together?”

You nod, sniffing as you wipe at your face. “Yeah, some are still in the military though.” Your voice is quieter now, calmer as you focus on something other than the hell surrounding you.

“Sucks, doesn’t it? I felt the same about ONF.” He chuckles, and somehow, you do too - though it’s accompanied by a sharp, aching sob.

“I didn’t mean to come here, Hee,” you confess, voice cracking. “Her sister is my best friend.”

His expression shifts, a flicker of understanding crossing his face before he removes his jacket, placing it over your shivering shoulders. “Y/N,” he sighs, knowing that his next words will tear you open and leave you bleeding on the cobbles, “you can’t be here. He finally moved on.” His voice is heavy with meaning, with quiet pleading. As much as he is angry at you, he still harbours a fondness for you from all those years ago.

“He’s happy.”

A lump forms in your throat because every piece of your heart has just fallen from you, mushed together, and formed a suffocating clog that you can’t dislodge. So instead of words, you nod and pretend to accept it. What else can you do? You know he’s right, Jaeyun is happy, if he wasn’t happy, he wouldn’t be set to marry Yeoreum on Saturday. He moved on.

“Heeseung?”

Jaeyun’s voice strikes you like lightning. Your body tenses, the warmth of Heeseung’s jacket no longer providing a comforting warmth as chills creep up your spine.

“Can I talk to her?”

Heeseung sighs, standing to face his best friend. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, man.”

They speak like you’re not even here, like this doesn’t involve you at all. But you can’t bring yourself to interrupt. The tension thickens between them, and for a moment, you think Jaeyun might argue. He’s always been stubborn when it comes to you.

But tonight, at least, he listens.

His gaze lingers on you - just for a second - before he turns back inside. You watch as he disappears into the crowd, as if this moment between you had never happened at all. And it kills you.

Because for the first time in four years, you saw the love still lingering in his eyes.

And for the first time in four years, you knew it didn’t belong to you anymore.

The party continues without you. The laughter, the speeches, the celebration - it all blurs into background noise as you make your way to the guest bedroom, brushing off questions with a simple, “I’m just tired from travelling.”

But the truth is, the real exhaustion isn’t from the journey.

It’s from loving him.

And knowing you can never have him back.

________

The house is silent now. That heavy silence that comes after a long night of music, laughter, and regret. You wake up abruptly, your throat gasping for a drink and your lips dry because even in sleep, your body has been fighting against itself. You can’t remember your dream - or nightmare - but your body feels heavy enough for you to work out that it involved a certain someone.

For a moment, you think the past couple of hours have been a delusion, you forget where you are as you glance around the spacious room. The unfamiliar plushness of the mattress beneath you, the gentle sway of the curtains in the night breeze, the faint scent of Eunseo’s lingering perfume in the air - it takes a second too long to piece it together. The guest room. The party. Him.

It wasn’t just a dream, unfortunately.

A dull ache pulses behind your ribcage, a reminder of the past few hours, of the words left unspoken and the memories that had clawed their way back to the surface. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts away, but it’s useless. Heeseung’s voice echoes, Jaeyun’s eyes blaze into yours - the weight of it all clings to you like damp clothes.

You sigh, shifting onto your side, trying to force yourself back into sleep but the dryness in your throat is unbearable now, no amount of conjured-up saliva doing the the trick. You need water…and a gun at this point.

Slipping out of bed, your feet meet the cool hardwood, a biting contrast to the warmth of the thick duvet. The house feels different now - no longer alive with conversation and celebration, but resting, like a small village unfearing of a giant. The floorboards don’t creak under your careful steps, but the occasional rustle of your own movements sounds far too loud. Everything sounds louder when it’s quiet.

The hallway is dimly lit by the moon, the only illumination coming from the large windows at the end of the corridor. Shadows stretch long across the walls, elongating the picture frames that hold memories of a family that isn’t yours. You see Yeoreum, Eusneo, and their parents in different life scenarios - ones you can’t relate back to your own family. They’re so far removed from you in every way.

As you pass by the slightly ajar door of the bedroom, you hesitate. For no real reason, no real thought, just a flicker of something deep in your chest. You know this is Jaeyun and Yeoreum’s room, you heard them retreat into it after a long night of smiles and congratulations.

You move past it quickly, refusing to let your brain make the decision to barge in and confess your love for the engaged boy and kidnap him back to your boring, mundane life. Honestly, you didn’t think you had a simpleton life but after speaking with the Son family and seeing the extravagant guests tell their stories about weekends to the Maldives and owning football clubs, you realise very quickly that you’re just…normal.

Maybe that’s why fate put Jaeyun into Yeoreum’s arms. Because she is far from normal.

The stairs are bare now as you take them slowly, gripping the polished wooden bannister to alleviate some of the pressure from your feet. Each step is measured to not cause loud creeks. The house is old, and though elegant, it has its age showcased in the wood.

When you reach the bottom, the remnants of the night come into full view. Empty wine glasses left abandoned on tables, a few smudged lipstick stains marking their rims. The long banquet table by the staircase is littered with stray napkins and a couple of shattered glasses, carefully lined up as if waiting to be dealt with in the morning.

It must have been a wonderful night for them. And if things were different, you might have enjoyed it too.

Your fingers tighten slightly around the fabric of your sleeve as your eyes drift toward the kitchen. A leak of light bleeds from the space, a soft glow pooling onto the fancy marble floors. Probably an under-cabinet light left on, a small remaining spark of the party’s electricity. You step forward, your feet scuffing lightly against the cold tiles, but the moment you enter the threshold, you stop short.

A broad back stands in front of the sink, shoulders slightly hunched, head tilted downward. The navy and yellow plaid pyjama bottoms he’s wearing are loose around his hips, contrasting the casual black T-shirt that clings to his form. They don’t match - not in style, not in intent - just something he must’ve grabbed without thinking before bed.

A creak sounds beneath you, alerting them to your presence. The figure stiffens before slowly turning around.

Jaeyun.

His face is softened by the haze of sleep, one eye still half-shut, the other squinting slightly as if trying to determine whether you’re real or just some cruel trick of his half-awake mind. His dark hair is tousled, flattened in places but still holding onto the remnants of styling wax from earlier. There’s something achingly familiar about him like this - undone, caught in a moment where he’s just Jaeyun. Just yours.

Except, he isn’t.

The air shifts between you, thick with words neither of you can say. His gaze never wavers, locked onto you with an intensity that tightens your chest.

“Hi,” you whisper, breaking the stillness as you step past him toward the fridge.

It’s safer this way. To act like this is nothing. Like his presence doesn’t send electricity skittering all over your body. Like Heeseung wasn’t right when he warned you that this conversation - any conversation - was a bad idea. Because Jaeyun was never the kind to yell, never the kind to explode in anger. That wasn’t his way.

No. His love was always the dangerous part.

“It’s late,” he murmurs still hoarse with sleep. It reminds you of early morning rises for school where he kept you in his arms for just ‘5 more minutes’.

“Or early.” You shrug, focusing on pouring yourself a glass of filtered water. “I guess it depends on whether you went to sleep or not.”

Your attempt at small talk feels flimsy and hollow, but it’s all you have. Anything else would break the fragile thread keeping you tethered to reason. You know it will be far too easy to just fall back into his arms. You saw how quickly he went to being your teenage love in that room.

When he held your face in your hands, he looked like he would still give you the entire world, still move mountains to make everything simple for you, and still love you despite your betrayal. It’s better to just…pretend.

Jaeyun watches you, unmoving as he memorises the way your fingers curl around the glass, the way the light catches on your cheekbone, the way your shoulders rise and fall with the shallow gulps.

For him, this moment feels unreal. You - standing here in this kitchen, looking like you belong, like no time has passed, like his world hadn’t crumbled all those years ago. It’s a cruel illusion, a cosmic joke. Because as much as you haunt him, he has never felt more at home than he does right now.

Just you. Just here.

“When did you get engaged?”

The question lands between you like a strike to his chest, knocking the breath from his lungs. It forces him back into reality.

With his head hanging low, Jaeyun traces the rim of his coffee mug with his middle finger, the slow, absent-minded motion showing his hesitation. He exhales sharply, the weight of his own words is too heavy to bear.

“A few months ago.” His voice is quiet, not wanting to admit his new relationship out loud.

He feels like he’s cheating on you. When you left, he didn’t get closure. All he got was a ripped-open heart and no materials to heal it, wounds left open for the world to hack away at. When he started dating Yeoreum, she patched some of those holes but just your presence in this house has opened it all back up again.

His heart bleeding for you.

You nod, lips pressing together as you grip the cool glass of water in your hands. There’s a tremor in your fingers, but you ignore it. You have no right to feel this way, no right to let your heart ache at the revelation. He’s engaged. You knew this. And yet, hearing him say it makes it all the more real.

Jaeyun shifts slightly in his seat, his knuckles tightening around the ceramic mug before he exhales again. “What about you?” He hesitates, scared of the answer. “You seeing anyone?”

“No.”

It’s sharp, clipped, too direct to be casual. You don’t want to elaborate, don’t want to give away the truth - that there hasn’t been anyone, that no one else has ever felt right. That even after four years, even after all this time, he is still the measure against which all others have failed.

Jaeyun sucks in a breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he wants to say something. Tell you he’s relieved? That it makes him happy you’re not with someone. That’s too cruel considering he’s the one promised to another.

In his hesitation, you find your own voice instead. “Eunseo…she’s my best friend,” you offer, the words tumbling out like an explanation, almost an apology. “I didn’t know it was you getting married to Yeoreum. I promise. I’m not…I don’t want…”

You will him to look at you, to see the sincerity in your eyes as your words fail you. But he doesn’t. He just nods, slow and mechanical.

“I’ll make up an excuse to get out of here before the wedding.”

At that, his fingers still. The room, once thick with words made of small talk and tip-toeing around the main issue, suddenly feels suffocating. And then, his voice sparks up, soft but laced with something raw, something close to heartbreak.

“Why did you leave, Y/N?”

The question freezes you in place.

“Tell me why,” he continues, breaking at the edges. “Because for four fucking years, I still haven’t been able to figure it out.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. You don’t even know where to begin. How do you begin? You couldn’t tell him when you needed to most, so how could you now?

Instead, you bite down on your bottom lip, forcing yourself to steady the tremble in your breath. Suddenly, the thought of him looking at you is unbearable. But of course, now - now of all times - his eyes are locked onto you, unwavering.

“You owe me that much.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the counter as you grip it, focusing on the feel of it as your mind twists and turns. The glass of water is forgotten as you force yourself to speak.

“I…” The word barely makes it out, caught in the tightness of your throat. “I just left.”

“Bullshit, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s voice is sharper now, frustration creeping in. He shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he leans forward. “You don’t just leave. You don’t just disappear without a word, without a fucking explanation to the people you love.” His hands press against the counter, knuckles paling as they mirror your terrified ones. “I waited. I called, I texted - I even went searching. I thought something happened to you at first.”

His voice dips lower, quieter, but it doesn’t soften the way it cuts through you. “I thought you were hurt. I thought you were dead because that was the only way my mind could comprehend you leaving me. Leaving us”

Your breath catches.

“Then your mum showed me that letter and I…I still can’t wrap my head around it Y/N. We were so fucking happy. Then poof! You’re gone without another word. I have lived four years of my life worrying about you, wishing that you would call. I haven’t even changed my number just in case you finally decided to reach out and we could be us again.”

The hurt in his words fill you with dread. You hadn’t thought about how it must have taken it’s toll at first, but you didn’t really think about how it would still effect him, not in the way he must have lived through it. The sleepless nights. The unanswered questions. The fear.

You feel like a fucking idiot. A selfish one at that.

“I didn’t get into any colleges that I applied for. None near Busan.” Saying it to him, admitting it after all this time feels…less significant than it did when you were eighteen.

Jaeyun’s brows knit together, confusion crossing his face. “What do you mean? I thought you only applied to schools near Apollo. We had planned-”

“My grades weren’t good enough to get into any colleges in Busan.” There’s venom in your tone, but it isn’t directed at him - it’s at yourself.

You inhale sharply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “If I had told you I wasn’t going with you, I was scared you’d give up your dream school. That you’d just - fuck it all off to be with me.” Your voice wavers, but you push through. “And you would have, Jaeyun. You would have thrown everything away if I asked. I couldn’t do that to you. I would’ve lived with the guilt every day, watching you settle for something less than what you deserved. I loved you, Jaeyun - I couldn’t do that to you.”

Jaeyun flinches at the past tense in your confession.

But he doesn’t linger on it. Instead, he rewinds, his mind struggling to make sense of it all. “So you left our relationship because…it would be long distance?”

You swallow hard. “Jaeyun, it wasn’t just that. I thought about it, I did. But I knew you would grow at college without me. And I kept thinking about what you said…”

His expression shifts slightly, confusion washing over his features. “What I said?”

You nod, blinking against the stinging in your eyes. “About how people grow apart when they’re in different places. How they slowly break away from each other because they become different people.” You laugh, but it’s hollow, tinged with pain. “You said ‘I can’t do long distance’ and it got in my head. I couldn’t bear to slowly lose you. So I-”

“So you thought leaving me without a word was the right way to go?” His voice cracks and the hurt is so evident; the way his eyes are shaking, his voicebox now with a slight trill, the ragged breath escaping from his chest.

Jaeyun stands up, pushing his chair back with a quiet scrape that sounds like a foghorn in the dead night. He crosses the small space between you, hesitant yet resolute. His hands flex at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to reach for you, to touch you. He made that mistake earlier, your soft skin leaving a lasting impression on the palms of his hands and tips of his fingers.

God, he missed how you feel.

“Y/N,” his voice is lower now, pushing his urges down. “We could have worked it out. We would have found a way.”

His hand moves before he can stop it, despite the screaming in his head to tell him to back off. His fingers brush against your cheek - reverent, afraid you’ll recoil. But you don’t pull away and his heart skips. A single tear slips down your cheek, and his thumb twitches, resisting the urge to wipe it away, the act feeling too intimate.

Shaking your head, you finally look up at him, eyes glazed in regret. “I was stupid,” you admit in a whisper. “I didn’t want you to worry about me. You already had so much going on - school, work, your whole future ahead of you.”

Jaeyun says nothing, just watches you with that same tragic expression.

You inhale shakily, willing your heart to stop pounding. “But look at you,” you say, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “You went to college. You grew up. You moved on. Look at what you have.” Your hands gesture weakly upstairs, to where Yeoreum sleeps peacefully, unaware of the storm brewing in the kitchen below.

Jaeyun doesn’t look toward where his bride-to-be sleeps.

He just looks at you. Always at you.

“We could have had this, Y/N.” His voice is meek but the meaning behind his words is heavy. “You could be the one I’m marrying - if you just let me take care of you like a partner is supposed to. If you trusted me enough.”

Your stomach knots, your fingers curling into your palms painfully. “I did trust you, Jaeyun.”

“Not enough.” Jaeyun exhales, frustration bleeding into his words. “Not enough to tell me what was going on when I gave you that ring.”

You look away because you know he’s right. You hate that he’s right. That night when he gave you that ring, that is when you should have confessed your plans and worries. It was cruel of you to promise him a happily ever after and then ditch him the next morning.

That is something you will never forgive yourself for.

“Y/N,” He huffs out loudly and drags a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath. “That should have been your opening to talk to me about all this. I love you so much - I would have made long distance work.” His voice is edged with desperation, his dark eyes searching yours in the dim kitchen, waiting for something. Maybe a sign that you regret it, maybe a sign that you still love him the way he so clearly still loves you. “When I gave you that ring and made that promise to be yours forever, I wasn’t fucking around, okay? I meant it.”

You don’t realise you’re shaking your head until he lets out a dry laugh, reaching for your hands.

His fingers slide over your skin, warm and familiar, and you hate how easily you let him hold you. Hate how your body reacts to him before your mind can protest. This is a man who is getting married and yet your body thinks he still belongs to you.

“Baby,” he murmurs, voice softer now, raw. “I love you.”

Your breath stutters. Each time he says he loves you it’s in the now, not the past. Your thoughts twist and turn, reading between every line. It’s obvious his feelings are heightened with the shock of you, that’s why he’s acting this way…not because he actually means it.

Right?

“Jaeyun…” you whisper, but there’s nothing else you can say.

The kitchen hums with an unbearable silence, save for the soft buzzing of the refrigerator and the sound of your own pulse roaring in your ears. Jaeyun notices the way your gaze flickers down to his lips, sees the way your breath shudders as he licks them wet.

He leans in, just enough that his breath fans against yours.

If he kisses you, if you let him - there will be no going back. You’ll melt into him, you mere ice and him the burning sunlight.

His forehead almost brushes yours, your hands still locked together, his fingers tightening like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. He doesn’t want you to leave him. Not again.

Your heart lurches. This is wrong. You know it is. Yet, that gravitational pull brings your lips impossibly close to his.

And then - footsteps. Loud and unexpected, echoing into the suffocating quiet.

Your body reacts before your mind catches up. You push Jaeyun away, stumbling back a step just as another presence enters the kitchen.

Jaeyun barely moves. Even with the interruption, his gaze doesn’t leave yours. Your eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spill, and his lips part like he wants to say something - to call you back to him, to fix this.

But he doesn’t get the chance.

“Baby,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to hear.

You shake your head, barely able to breathe. Without another word, you turn on your heel, shouldering past him and heading back to the guest room.

“Y/N?” His tone is defeated, lacking hope.

Your feet falter for the briefest moment, but you don’t turn around. You’ve made a lot of mistakes when it comes to Jaeyun - you can’t make this one.

Jaeyun begins to move, following you, reckless abandonment overtaking his better judgment, but an arm shoots out, gripping his shoulder and halting him in place.

Jaeyun looks up, breathless, still reeling from everything that just happened.

Heeseung, his best friend, stands there with an expression that immediately sends a wave of nausea through Jaeyun’s stomach. Heeseung’s grip is firm. Unrelenting. He didn’t need to be present for the conversation to know what transpired. He can feel the electric charge that still lingers in the room. He can see the heartbreaking gaze in his friend’s iris’. He can feel love bouncing off the tiles.

“Jake,” he murmurs, warning him. “Don’t.”

“Heeseung-”

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head, his hand tightening briefly before he lets go. “Not tonight.”

Jaeyun’s jaw clenches. “You don’t get it.”

Heeseung’s eyes flicker toward the doorway where you just disappeared, then back to Jaeyun, something knowing and sad in them.

“I do,” he says. “That’s the problem.”

Heeseung knows better than anyone the connection you both have. It’s all consuming and the kind people go to war for. That kind of love is dangerous, especially in this environment.

Jaeyun sucks in a breath, his fingers tugging at his already-messy hair. His body is still warm from where you touched him, from where he held you, and he hates how much he still feels you even when you’re no longer in the room.

Heeseung watches him carefully before sighing, rubbing a hand over his face.

“She’s here because of Eunseo,” Heeseung says. “Not you. Not…this.” He gestures vaguely between Jaeyun and the empty space where you stood just moments ago. “She’s not part of your life anymore, Jake. She hasn’t been for a long time.”

Jaeyun looks away, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You think I don’t know that?”

Heeseung doesn’t answer.

For a long moment, neither of them say anything. The moment envelopes them thick in the air. How the fuck did all of you end up in this situation?

Then, Heeseung sighs again, softer this time. “Come on,” he says, voice gentler. “You should get some sleep. Back to your fiance.” His eyes are stern albeit understanding.

Jaeyun lets out a humourless chuckle at the not-so-subtle reminder. “Yeah. Sure.”

Despite his need to see you, to keep talking this out with you - to kiss you - he retreats, ready to fall back into bed. But sleep is the last thing he’s going to get tonight.

---

taglist: @yzzyhee @dollyyun @sunpov @dreamy-carat

@ioveseong @katarinamae @viagumi @jakeswifez

@shuichi-sama @m1kkso @no1likeneo @pshfan0812

@fancypeacepersona @hoonieyun @jaepen @lovingvoidgoatee

@parksunghoonsgf @capri-cuntz @yvnempire @mei3425

@enhastolemyheart @ikeulove @riribelle @nshmrarki

@firstclassjaylee @ikeuwoniee @ang0308 @jaykesgirl @addictedtohobi

@jayeoniee @jakessrealwife @zyvlxqht

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #aj writes #tstab #sim jaeyun smut

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margotw10bis · 2 years ago

Text

Champagne Confetti. JJK [m]

boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader

Genre: smut (basically a porn with a plot)

Words: 6.1k

Synopsis: Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans

Warnings (be ready): live sex; rough sex; face ridding; squirting (olympics waterfall y'all); multiple orgasms (idk how oc is still alive)

Jungkook is enjoying the show. How can he not when his girlfriend has her legs wide open and enters her dripping pussy with two fingers. The pleasure makes you loudly moan and your eyes roll back. You smile brightly, looking straight with lustful eyes. You are definitely hot right now, you know it. And if you didn't, the hundred of comments in the chat would inform you.

Someone is complimenting the pink leds' reflection on your skin, another one wishes you could use the dildo you've showed a few days ago, and a new comment praises you for being 'a sweet good girl'. You smile instantly at it because you know damn well that it comes from your boyfriend. To please him, you enhance the pace of your digits entering you and pinch your hard nipple just like he likes. You're one second away from moaning his name but you know you can't, so you settle for:

"I'm playing with my little pussy just for you"

Even if Jungkook is in his couch, a few miles away from your place, he gets that you are talking to him and his hard cock twitches in his pants. He is mindlessly caressing himself through his sweatpants. You've told him a hundred of times that he could stay at your place when you work but he has declined every single time. Your boyfriend knows he doesn't have the strength to hear you pleasuring yourself a few feet away without storming in and fucking you rough. You wouldn't mind but, after a long conversation with him, you have learnt that he doesn't want to appear on camera. And you totally get it, even though you would love him to fuck you on camera.

You know that your job is not a common one and that some people are very judgmental. However, you love sex and you get paid for it. You turn on your camera, use your fingers or toys to make you cum and that's it. You know that you also please other people, so what's wrong with that? And one of the things you love the most about Jungkook is that he has never judged you. He loves you just the way you are, with all the things that come with you — including your cam girl occupation.

When you turn on your vibrator, a beautiful toy in a baby blue color, you think about Jungkook — especially since he is the one who gave it to you. You place it on your sensitive clit and your groans get louder. You are very close to cum and you know that the way you get choked up by pleasure is enjoyed by your audience because the cash is flowing.

Your boyfriend smirks from the other side of the screen. You are so fucking beautiful when your face is torn by pleasure. He absolutely loves seeing your juices dripping down your ass and land on your bed, drawing a wet spot on it. It's so fucking hot. Jungkook loves how your head rolls back when you are close to cum. But that's also why you don't see the comment that makes Jungkook's heart stop: 'I can fuck you better than your loser of a boyfriend'.

———

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Your worry is well noticeable on your face. Jungkook, despite being as sweet as ever, has grown a little... distant. At first, you thought you were imagining things but now you have no doubt. During your usual movie date at your place — you have a much bigger screen than Jungkook —, you were trying to switch your cuddling into something... else. But Jungkook has stopped your hands from reaching his crotch area. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want sex because men don't always want sex. But he doesn't even let you touch him and that has never happened during the eight months you have been together.

You are feeling stressed and sad. Did you do something wrong? Or is he leaving you like your exes because, despite Jungkook saying he is okay with your job, he might not be at the end of the day?

"Is it me?" You lowly ask, pain and unsureness in your voice

Jungkook's head immediately snaps toward you and he cups your face. He doesn't want you to be hurt just because his little ego has been bruised. It's not your fault, not at all.

"No, of course not!" He exclaims and it soothes your heart a little

"Then, tell me"

Jungkook sighs. Is it even worth saying? It's so stupid. Your boyfriend shouldn't feel threatened by a stranger on the Internet but he can't help it.

"I... There was a comment on your chat the other day" He starts and you tilt your head out of curiosity "It said that they could fuck you better than me"

You bust into laugh but quickly stop when you see no sign of humour in your boyfriend's dark eyes.

"They just talk, they feel brave behind a screen. I'm sure the guy wouldn't even make me cum. Baby, you know it's not true" You argue and settle a gentle kiss on his cheek

"No, I don't" Jungkook replies with a harsh and hurt tone, his jaws clenched

You're taken aback. You stay silent for a minute, wondering how could you make Jungkook understand that he is the best sex you've ever had. But there is not a hundred solutions. You tell him to wait until you call him.

You go to your bedroom, light up your pink leds, change your clothes for Jungkook's favorite underwear — a matching black lacy bra and thong — and prep everything for him. When everything is neat, you sit on your bed covered with pink silk sheets and call him.

Surprise is painting his face. He gulps when he notices how powerful and sexy you look right now. You pat the spot next to you on the bed to urge your boyfriend to sit, which he does. You immediately capture his lips with yours.

The kiss gets heated. You lick his rings in the corner of his lower lip and then slide your tongue into his mouth. You are quick to change position to sit on his lap and deepen the kiss. You have always loved how his tongue felt soft against you.

You grab his hands to place them on your ass and you smirk when they squeeze it. It's just a reflex, Jungkook can't control it. Neither can he control his hardening dick. You grind on it, pressing your already wet pussy against the bulge forming on his black sweatpants and rolling your hips at a sensual pace. You rest a hand on his large shoulder while the other one tugs on his black locks.

"Babe—" Jungkook tries to argue but you prevent him from talking with a bite on his lower lip, making it swollen and red

You grab the hem of his t-shirt and lift it up until you can take it off from your boyfriend's hot body. You glance at his brawny torso and run your index on the ink darkening his arm. You have always loved the tattoo on his shoulder. Your hand reaches up again to caress it before going South to his abs. You smile when you notice that your caresses cut Jungkook's breathe.

You attack his throat with your lips, settling wet kisses and bitting his thin skin. You suck on it to mark him because the purple hickeys always look so good on him. You know that you just have to tease him a little more for Jungkook to go wild, that's why you poke out your tongue and take a fat lap from his collarbone to his ear. You gently bite the lobe between two earrings and whisper :

"I want you to fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk tomorrow"

The low growl coming from Jungkook makes you shiver with horniness and you know you're going to get what you wanted. You instantly feel him spanking harshly the soft flesh of your asscheeks. You moan at the burn but you don't have time to appreciate it because Jungkook lands another slap on your left cheek. It tickles so fucking good that you have to bite on his neck to prevent a long scream of pleasure. Your pussy is so, so wet that it's staining your boyfriend's pants.

He digs his fingers so deep into the flesh of your ass that his knuckles turn white and that it'll leave bruises on your flesh. He uses his grip to spread your asscheeks and gets a full view on your two glistening holes in the mirror placed in front of your bed. Even with the dimmed light, he clearly sees how your arousal is smeared all over your cunt.

"You messy girl. Do you see how dirty you are?" He lowly growls

He doesn't wait for an answer and slaps your — already red and abused — ass. The sound of the spank echoes in your bedroom, the same way it's followed by your choked moan. How can Jungkook doubt about how good he makes you feel?

You sneak a hand on your back to undo your bra and offer a great view on your tits. You press your breasts against Jungkook's face and you feel the vibration more than you hear his moan. He leaves messy kisses everywhere on your boobs, sucking the flesh from time to time. Your head rolls back and you arch your back when he captures a hard nipple between his teeth. He is chewing on it and a pool of arousal leaks from your clenching pussy. He then roughly sucks on it, just like he would do if he wanted to suckle on a bottle.

One of his hand appears to grab your other tit, slightly slapping it too. The air gets kicked off your lungs when Jungkook suddenly bites the nipple he had in his mouth, provoking a loud whine from you. The pain mix with pleasure when he rolls his tongue around it to soothe you.

You push him on the bed so he rests his back on your mellow mattress and swiftly place your knees on both sides of his handsome face. You give him a last smile before you sit down on his face.

You feel his tongue pressing against your covered clit and you can't help but roll your hips. With a precise movement, Jungkook's inked fingers hook your thong and push it aside so he can directly access your cunt. His tongue slides up and down your slick folds and his nose bumps onto your clit. Your moans are filling your room and you have no choice but to grab your boyfriend's hair to steady yourself. You are glad that he still has long locks and only cut short the sides.

"Fuck, baby, it's so good" You groan but you get choked up when he suddenly suck on your clit "Oh my fucking god!"

Jungkook smirks against your pussy while your juices are leaking down all over his face. He grabs your ass and makes you grind on his face at a fast pace. Your brain gets foggy at the feeling of his expert tongue and nose bumping against your bud of nerves and sliding onto your vulva. You press deeper to feel more, not caring if you're suffocating Jungkook. You are too deep into pleasure to care and you know he has enough strength to push you away if he needs to. His tongue teases your entrance but never gets in, preferring rolling around your clit instead to drive you crazy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum" You inform him and you get closer when Jungkook digs his fingers deeper into the flesh of your ass

"Make me drink that potion" He teases against your wetness

Your arousal gets the grinding real smooth on your boyfriend's ruined face and it's fucking hot. He even jiggles his head from left to right at a quick pace to reach all the spots of your pussy, filling your bedroom with sloppy and oh so hot sounds, and you explode. You're cumming hard and the spasms of your body have rarely been so strong. You don't even have the strength to keep your upper body up and fall miserably on your bed with a goofy grin.

"Good girl" He praises

With a predator eye, Jungkook pokes his tongue out and licks your juices on his lips. It does little to clean him up because there are traces of your arousal on his chin, cheeks and nose. All his lower face is glistening with your wetness that it's fucking hot. He grabs his former t-shirt that was abandoned on your bed and wipes off his face.

"You're beautiful" You whisper, making Jungkook smile and his eyes get more affectionate

"You are more, baby" He replies and prevents you from arguing by capturing yours lips

You taste your cum on his tongue and moan in the kiss. Your hands work on his pants to push it down, along with his briefs. He is so hard right now that his cock twitches instantly when you grab it. You love how thick he is, he always stretches you well.

"I want to feel you in me" You tell him

Jungkook only replies with a nod and scoots over just the time to completely peel him naked. Your eyes travel through his perfect body, from his shoulders to his strong thighs passing through his abs. However, it's his dick that attracts you the most. You bite your lower lip and open your legs wider for your boyfriend.

You're surprised when two of his digits enter your pussy without warning. Your eyes shut of pleasure and your moans gets unsteady because of the depth and velocity of his fingering. He is shaking your whole body through your poor cunt. You are still very sensitive from your first orgasm and Jungkook is screwing deep and roughly. You can only grab your sheets and your toes curl up when Jungkook curves his fingers to pump on your g-spot.

He goes so harshly on you that you can't think anymore. You are not even aware of your screams and cum in a record time, squirting all over your boyfriend — for his greatest pleasure. You even splash your sheets and his abs.

"You are so dirty" He purrs in your ear but he is the only driving you crazy when he spreads the juices of his soaked hand on his member as he is jerking himself off

You can't believe you have cummed this hard in such a little time. It's not the first time Jungkook makes you squirt but usually it takes way more time and only appears at the end of your fuck when you have already reached your high a couple of times.

"They should see how fucked up you get when you're with me" He cockily says, referring to your viewers "You are such a little slut for me. Do you even cum with other men?"

His question is backed up with a pinch on your nipple.

"You're the only one" You reply in a whine

Your answer satisfies your boyfriend and he bends over to kiss you, way tender now. He takes place between your legs and the mess you've done allows him to enter you in a swift motion, all the way until his balls are pressed against your ass. Your moan is longer as the pleasure is traveling through your entire body. Your walls are so stretched that you wonder how you are not split in half already.

"I should fuck you on live to make this motherfucker shut his fucking mouth" He growls in your ear as he gives you the first dick strokes — deep and slow to enhance the sensuality

"You should, baby" You whisper and your walls clench around his fat cock because the idea is really arousing

As he starts thrusting into you with a quicker pace, you manage to reach his throat and suck hickeys. Jungkook intertwines his fingers with yours with one of his hands while the other one roughly cups your face to give you a messy kiss, full of tongues and saliva. The way Jungkook is rolling his hips allows him to reach all the right spots inside you. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as you groan his name — groan that is immediately swallowed by his mouth. Your arousal is coating his length but you have so much more that it's rolling down his balls.

He fucks you with so much force that your bed cracks but it's a problem for later. You can't think about anything else than him when he kisses the thin skin of your throat, biting it from time to time. Your legs wrap around his tiny waist to keep him close and prevent him from stopping, even through he is not planning to.

Jungkook slightly lifts up so he can see your tits bouncing in rhythm. It's so hot that he fuck you rougher just to enhance the movement and pinch a hard nipple with his fingertips. He is fucking so rawly that sweat is coving his body and is making his black strands of hair stick to his forehead. Sounds of your clapping skins fill your bedroom, creating a beautiful music for his ears, especially with your whined moans. A fun idea lightens up in his head and he wraps a hand around your throat, choking you perfectly. Your poor cunt throbs around him. Why does he have to be so fucking good? He knows you so well.

"Scream how much you love when I fuck you" He teases you but tightens the grip around your neck

It gets hard to breathe, yet along to fulfill his demand.

"Hm? Tell me, baby. I can't hear you" He smirks "Be a good girl and let everyone knows how good I fuck you"

You want to say it desperately but you can't. Only chocked moans escape your lips. But all of a sudden, Jungkook takes off his hand and gives you a particularly rough dick stroke. The oxygen rushing to your brain and the air being kicked out of your lungs make you so high on sex.

"I love it!" You scream "No one can fuck me better"

"Who's whore are you?" He cockily asks

"Yours!" You moan

"Louder" He growls, his hand settling back on your throat but not tightening too much

"I'm your whore!" You whine as you feel your walls clenching around his cock

"Good" He gives you a harsh pounding "Fucking" Another one "Girl" And another one

You love it so much that your smaller hand lands on his to urge him to squeeze your throat. Your boyfriend does it but suddenly pulls off of your throbbing dripping cunt.

"Kook!" You whine but he shhhes you and rolls his fingers hard and fast around your clit

It's so sudden and intense that your breathe gets cut and that you giggle to escape the unbearable pleasure. However, the fist around your neck prevents you from running away from his ministrations. You're wet, soaked even, and Jungkook's fingers can roll smoothly on your bud. It doesn't stop your boyfriend from spitting on it, just to make your cunt messier. Your pussy is clenching around nothing but you're close again. You have asked Jungkook to fuck you rough, and he is giving what you wanted.

His frenetic pace on your clit plays with the border of pain and you can't hold on anymore. You squirm and your body is experiencing spasms from another powerful orgasm. You grab his forearm to stop his abuse on your poor throbbing clit when the overstimulation becomes too much to handle.

"Fuck, baby" Jungkook whispers is awe, amazed by how beautiful you are when you reach cloud nine

You are panting and your brain feels like wax. You need time to recover from the intensity of the three past orgasms. You close your eyes and rest your head on a fluffy pillow.

"I'm not done with you, baby" Jungkook murmurs as he caresses your skin with the tip of his fingers, drawing goosebumps all over your body

"I need a minute" You confess as you are trying to steady your breathing "You fuck me too good"

Your boyfriend chuckles and lands a multitude of pecks on your cheek, your throat, your shoulder, your boobs and pretty much everywhere. However, you are way too much into the bliss of your post-orgasmic state to notice how your boyfriend's pierced lips are traveling South. It's only when his mouth kisses your oversensitive clit that you jolt and squeak.

His vicious tongue pokes out and slyly licks the arousal leaking from your pussy. He looks like a cat licking its milk but you know he is as lethal as a lion. You throw a — what you want to be — death stare but Jungkook smirks because, deep into your eyes, he sees your lust. You can't deny that the sight of Jungkook between your legs is sinful and perfect. But shivers run through your body when his tongue takes another lap of your ruined cunt.

"I need to clean up my little dirty girl" He purrs and swallows a little bit more of your juices "Taste so sweet, baby"

"Fuck" You moan and you instinctively open your legs a little bit wider

Thankfully, Jungkook goes gentle on you — otherwise, you are not sure you would survive.

"You don't know how much I love eating your little juicy pussy" He teases you and an airy laugh escapes your lips

"I do know, you tell me every time you do it" You explain, tenderness noticeable in your voice

Jungkook and you exchange a knowing glance, right before he buries his handsome face in your folds.

"Those guys can comment all they want" He growls against your dripping pussy, slightly nodding his head toward your set up "They'll never know how you taste"

The possessiveness in his raspy voice is arousing. You love when your boyfriend claims you over other men. He is not the jealous kind — he cannot be when you're a cam girl — but he also manages to remind you that you are his in the most perfect way: fucking.

You cup his chin with your hand to force Jungkook to look at you. Seriousness paints your face when you tell him:

"I don't want anyone else than you. Do you understand?"

Jungkook nods and happiness fills up his chest, spurring him to capture your lips — the upper ones this time. You both smile in the kiss but your sneaky hand finds its way to Jungkook's cock. You jerk him off slowly, appreciating his velvety — yet sticky with your juices — skin.

"Get on your knees" He commands against your swollen lips

You get on all fours and arch your back like you know Jungkook loves it and swing your ass from side to side. Your boyfriend gets to see how wet you still are despite his little cleaning. He lands a rough slap on your ass and squeeze your cheeks.

He then wraps his hand at the base of his hard and thick cock and guides it to your entrance. He teases a little, hooking his tip in your hole just to poke it out. He does it a couple of times, hoaxing a begging from you to finally fill you up.

You gasp when he enters you all the way. You can feel him so deep when he fucks you from behind. It's like his fat cock is stretching you even better. Jungkook digs his fingers into the flesh of your asscheeks and spreads them to fully admire how your little cunt takes his dick, coated it with your arousal at the same time.

"Fuck, baby..." He hisses in bliss

His dick strokes are not gentle, making you jolt at each single one of them. You burry your face in your sheets to mitigate as well as you can your loud moans. Drool is leaking from your open mouth and you realize that your boyfriend is fucking you dumb. The thought is so pleasant that you clench around him.

"You pussy is so tight" He growls and he accompanies his words with a spank on your already red and bruised ass

Jungkook goes further in sins when he lifts up his thumb to his mouth to coat it with spit and smudges it on your pucker hole. You gasp and feel a wave of arousal when he pushes his digit into it. Fuck, it's so hot... The intrusion is so fucking good, making your pussy even wetter — it's now just a big pool of your juices. Your walls clench sporadically around him, notifying him how much you love it. It's no secret anyway, Jungkook has already fucked your ass in the past.

You love hearing how his sweaty skin is clapping against yours, and you love feeling your ass getting slapped by his lap at each pounding. Your boyfriend has to hold you tight to prevent you from falling on your bed. Your arousal creates some sticky threads connecting your two bodies, disappearing when he bottoms up and drawing new ones when he pulls off to the tip. Jungkook curses when he looks at it. It's fucking hot...

"You make me do all the work, you little slut" He complains

He halts his movements. You know what he wants but you also know that his order is arousing so you wait for it.

"Come on, fuck yourself on my cock like the good girl you are" He whispers lowly but his cockiness pierces in his voice "Show me how much you want it"

Jungkook feels your walls clenching and it paints a smirk on his lips. He watches you pushing your ass back to swallow his dick and then moving forward to the tip, just to push back again. Your pace is rough and you make sure to harshly hit his pelvis when you take his member deep into you. You look like a maniac, empaling yourself on his thick cock, but you can't think about it because you love it too much. Your cunt is throbbing from the past orgasms and is sensitive from all the poundings and yet, you want more.

Your boyfriend knows you way too well. He sneaks his inked hand in your hair and harshly tugs on it, forcing you to lift up your upper body and rest your back against his brawny chest. Your scalp hurts in the most delicious way and your tits bounce when Jungkook takes control of the thrustings. You look up and smirk when you notice your set up in front on you. This insane, animalistic and perfect fuck all began because of this... You should thank your fans because Jungkook has never fucked you this good.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck and sucks more hickeys on your already redden and purple skin. The hand that was in your hair travels down to wrap your throat while the other one, sly, reaches your clit. You gasp when Jungkook starts circle motions on your bud.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum!" You say in a breathe when you feel your cunt clenching

Despite the tightening of your walls, you are so aroused that your juices are dripping down in your inner thighs, making a mess of Jungkook's cock too.

"You are such a good fucking whore for me" He whispers in your ear, biting your lobe too

Your hands try to handle on his strong forearm as your sloppy pussy gets ruined by your boyfriend's poundings and his raw pace. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, your mouth falls open, your cunt throbs and your breathe gets cut off as his expert fingers on your clit drive you closer to the edge. You are so close, you know it and Jungkook knows it too. That's why he fucks you even rougher, earning some whines from you, and bites your neck, marking you in all the possible ways.

You almost passed out when you cum as white dots paints your vision.

"Baby!" You moan, scream or whisper — you can't know

Thankfully, Jungkook firmly holds you against him, otherwise you would be falling miserably on your bed since your forces abandon you at the same time the wave of pleasure washes over you. Your walls throb and your lower stomach contracts as you squirt again, ruining your silk pink sheets and Jungkook's cock. Your whole body is shaken by spasms due to the power of your orgasm. Why does you boyfriend love so much pushing your limits? Because he knows that you love it just as much.

"Such a dirty girl" He purrs in your ear but you barely register it since you are still in the fog "Look at the mess you have made"

To accentuate his words, he lifts up the hand that was on your clit at the level of your face and shakes it. Drops of your cumming fly all around.

"Rain, rain, rain" He laughs lowly, not thrusting anymore but keeping his hard cock deep inside you "You can't fake it"

You want to reply something, like that you would never do it and that Jungkook really does fuck you good, but you have cotton mouth.

"Look at how fucked up you are!" He mocks you "And this motherfucker thinks he can fuck you better?" His low laugh is full of cockiness but it's the truth

His wet fingers caress your lips and you part them out of instinct. Jungkook takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with his digits and watches in awe how well you suck on them. You hum at your taste and appreciate being able to drink something.

"My sweet good girl" He says gentler, kissing your cheek

"Baby, I don't know if I can take it anymore" You confess, turning your head to look at his handsome face

You can spot the affection in his doe eyes.

"Just one last time and I'm gonna fill your little pussy up. I promise"

His words are raw but his tone is soft, just like the kiss he settles on your lips. You nod and his big palm comes up to caress your cheek. It soothes you and allows you a moment of peace before the big finale.

Jungkook circles your frame with his strong arms and falls on his back with you. The surprise makes you squeak and you could laugh if his cock buried in your cunt wasn't making you moan instead.

You dig your feet in the mattress on both sides of his thighs, takes supported on his pecs with your hands and start some ups and downs on his length. His tip is perfectly hitting your g-spot and if Jungkook wasn't helping you to settle a quick pace with his hands on your hips, you know that your legs would crash down because of the pleasure.

It feels so good to have him this deep inside you. Your tits bounce and your moans get lost in your bedroom. Your boyfriend turns his head to the side to get a peak at you fucking yourself on his fat cock in the mirror.

"Fuck, baby, you're so hot" He praises you and you thank him with a squeeze of your cunt

His thumbs caress your skin at the same time. The movement is slight but you manage to feel it. It does some weird tricks in your chest and you quicken your pace. The only problem is that the marathon of orgasms Jungkook's put you through seriously decreases your stamina. It's getting very hard for you to jump on his cock, even though you absolute love the way he is filling you.

"Baby..." You whisper in a breathe "Need you..."

You don't have to finish your sentence because Jungkook understands.

"I got you" He reassures you

He makes you rest your back on his chest, wraps arms under the back of knees to get a full access to your cunt — making you tighter in the process as your thighs are pressed against each other — and firmly plants his feet on your bed. His poundings are so harsh that your head rolls back and no sounds escape your open mouth. You almost faint because of the pleasure provided by his dick strokes in your tight and swollen cunt.

"Fuuuuck" You whine

Tears are gathering at the corners of your eyes. Jungkook is fucking you too good for your own sanity. The way his thrustings are accompanied by loud skin clapping sounds is fucking arousing. Your juices are dripping down your ass to create a mess on your boyfriend's balls.

"Oh my god!" You moan when rough slap hits the side of your ass

Your toes curl and your brain gets foggy: you know you are close. There have been too many orgasms for you to count and you have now no strength to delay them. Jungkook has turned into a fuck-machine, leaving no rest for your poor pussy. You are amazed by his stamina.

"Are you going to tell them who fucks you good?" He purrs

"You fuck me good! So fucking good, baby" You exclaim in a state of euphoria

Your voice is even shaking because of his poundings — that's how much he is ruining you. You sob at his raw dick strokes, you are way more sensitive than usual.

"I'm gonna fuck you on live and everyone will know who's little slut you are. Isn't it that right, baby? Do you want me to ruin you in front of the whole Internet?" He teases you

"Oh, fuck yes!"

"Good girl" He praises, quickly pecking your shoulder

"Kook, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

You can't finish your sentence that you explode once again. Only this time, Jungkook enhances his pace which makes you squirt for some long seconds and you wonder if you will ever gonna stop.

"Don't stop!" You urge him while you are sobbing

Your boyfriend swipes your pussy at a rapid pace with his hand to extend your cumming and to make a bigger mess with your juices splashing everywhere. You can't hold back your scream of pleasure. You have never cummed so hard and God knows that you know what you are talking about.

"Champagne confetti" Jungkook laughs when the waterfall ends

"Please, cum" You beg him

The tiredness is noticeable in your voice. You can't take it anymore and his poundings are painful despite the remaining pleasure.

"I'm close, baby, just hold on a little bit more"

Jungkook frees your legs and you rest your feet on his strong thighs helping him to ruin you. His inked hand cups your face and turn it to his. He captures your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing your moans. You are so lost in pleasure that you don't know what is reality anymore. The only thing you are sure about is him.

"Fill me up" You whisper against his pierced lips

You can only feel him nod and, with a last powerful dick stroke, he buries his cock deep inside you and releases his seeds inside you. You sigh in content and Jungkook whispers some soothing compliments. He hugs you tight but you are too tired to do anything.

Your sheets, just like your cunt, are ruined and soaked with your juices. You roll on your side and Jungkook's cock pulling off your pussy causes his white cum to leak. You don't really care anyway.

"Are you okay? Was I too much?" Jungkook worries as he witnesses your exhausted state

"It was good, baby" You reassure him but keep your eyes closed

You sneak against him and hug him as tight as you can with a weak body. You hear his beating heart in his chest as you rest your head on it. You hum, so happy to have him in your life. Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head.

"I have to tell you something" You murmur "Promise you won't be mad"

"I promise"

"Before I called you, I turned on a live... So everyone did see us fucking" You confess, hoping that Jungkook won't feel betrayed or anything

"I know. I saw the red light of your camera"

You lift up your head and witness some playfulness in his eyes. You offer him a bright smile and kiss him passionately. Fuck, you are so lucky to have Jungkook. His hands land on your bruised ass. You scoot over and turn to the camera. You look fucked up — and you are indeed. A smirk paints your lips and you look straight into the camera lens.

"No one can fuck me better than him" You announce and end up the live

#bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts #smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #kpop #fanfic #drabble #bts drabble #bts one shot #jeon jungkook #jungkook

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acotarxreader · 11 months ago

Text

Flower

Azriel x Reader (Rhysands sister)

Synopsis: You and Azriel are sent deep into the mountains in search of a flower that may save Feyre's life during childbirth but quickly the frenemy status is put to the test as past trials come to a head leaving you to decide between your new sister and the potential love of your life.

Warnings: Fluff,, teasing angst, frenemies, physical fighting, mentions of wing damage/loss, blood, sweetness, silliness, Az calling the reader Kid.

A/N: You voted for it so here it is, my next Azriel fic. I enjoyed writing this, did it kinda quickly so forgive any mistakes and let me know what you think!

P.s I named Rhysand and Readers sister Aruna which means Moon in some languages.

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“We’re lost Azriel”

“We’re not, you have no trust in me, this is basic Illyrian training” Azriel pushed an elongated branch from his path, releasing it thoughtlessly to smack you into the chest, a small yelp leaving you.

“Fucking hell!” You swiped the pollen markings it left from your chest, knotting your face into a scowl towards the back of the Spymaster's head.

“Next time duck” he called back, grin-laced words.

“Next time pick someone else to accompany you on your wild goose chases” Your boot sank into the uphill climb, the mud sinking its teeth into the well-worn leather as you fought with your lungs to keep breathing.

“You were chosen for official Night Court duties by an official member of the Night Court government, have a little pride”

“An official Night Court prick more like” You muttered in reply to Azriel’s faux-inflated self-importance. Two days ago you had left Velaris, in pursuit of a special medicinal flower, Madja’s hope to save Feyre from the birth of her child. You had been hiking upwards for what felt like all 48 hours of your journey, your calves practically speaking to you now.

“Do they not cover outdoor pursuit in your healer apprenticeship?” Another branch slapped into from the direction of the Spymaster.

“Do they not cover manners in Windhaven?”

“You’ve known me for centuries, you know they don’t teach manners” He grinned, your sure footing overtaking his position as he held back a thicket of branches for you. You rolled your eyes as you passed him, missing his clear deception. Your foot snagged on a millennia old root system of an ancient tree, sending you finally downwards on your travel to bump along a forgotten path for a few seconds before another primeval tree stopped your course. Azriel shot with his usual agile step down after you.

“I didn’t think you’d fly that far” He laughed down at you, your clothing covered in moss and mulch from your trip.

“This is it, this is where you kill me. This was all a plot, all those centuries as the best pain in the ass culminating in this fake trip, Feyre isn’t even pregnant is she?!” You threw your arm across your forehead in fake dramatics, feining pain as he Azriel rolled his eyes before offering you a hand to pull you up.

“I think if I was going to kill you, I’d have left Cassian to drown you that time we went swimming when we were 40”

“Ah, the last time I went swimming with you fools” You took his hand as he hauled you up, your muscles settling back into their place after their 360. You both continued your hike with some element of hurry but also with comfort.

“You used to love swimming with us and I mean c’mon I stopped him, no points for that?”

“You only stopped him because the death of Mor’s favourite cousin would have meant your certain death”

“I’m telling Rhysand you said that”

“Fine by me, he knows” You smirked before skipping along, hands behind your back in rested peace, your head gazing up through the canopy, the stars beginning to sparkle down over the moon-bathed forest. Azriel marvelled towards you, somewhat enamoured at the strong sense of peace radiating from his best friend's sister. You stretched above the sunken path towards a low-hanging branch, bright blush berries glowing in the scarce light. Your linen shifted slightly from your skin as you reached, revealing the troves of scars and chasms from the savagery of Spring's deepest betrayal of Azriel’s chosen family. You turned to him, a childlike grin as your cheeks filled with the lush fruit, a small laugh leaving Azriel as he gently shook his head.

“Come here Kid, you’re all berry” He smiled, running the back of his sleeve down your cheek, banishing stray seeds until you pushed his arm away.

“I’m like 10 years younger than you Gramps”

“And I’ll always take care of you because of it” Soft tones of sincerity radiated from the Spymaster, his usual sarcasm towards you banished for a moment of truth.

“Until you get old and frail and I send you to a retirement camp, you have about five good years left my friend” He shoved you back with a laugh, moment over.

Another hour of so of what felt like aimless walking culminated in the both of you scaling prehistoric trees to settle in the canopy for rest, safe from the creatures roaming below in search of their next meal.

Leaks of light snuck through the budding Spring flush of growth, crossing Azriel’s eyes until he stirred from his sleep. He sat up from his hammock, to look over to the adjacent tree to find your sling empty.

“YN?” He yawned out, stretching as the branches creaked with the movement, your lack of reply had him calling out again. Azriel’s boots nearly split the soil on landing as he tried his best to keep his imagination from running away with his logic. He always woke up first and always had to haul you from your sleep, you were famously not a morning person. He called louder into the forest, listening back for any reply or clue as to where you’d run off to. He found his step quicken to match his heartbeat as he transversed great ground quickly. Light flashed around him as he found the edge of one of Illyria's many mountainous lakes, to see your silhouette floating in the centre of it.

“YN!” He roared out, no response from you as his imagination very much took control. Without full consciousness, he tossed his over jacket to the ground, his heavy boots taking a spot next to it as he waded quickly into the silty lake, still calling for you. His feet could no longer touch the muddy bottom as he reached you in the centre of the still lake.

“YN!!!” A marred hand met your abdomen as the other found your lower back beneath the water, forcing your body up where you jolted out of your trance, thrashing water as you kicked your legs awake.

“What the fuck you frightened me!” You pushed back from his hold, wrapping your arms around your waist, your snowy tank top clinging to your wet skin.

“You frightened me! What are you doing out here?” He pushed his wet hair from his face, allowing the colour to return to his face.

“I was getting the moss and leaves out of my hair after yesterday’s little escapades, no need to lose your head” You shot back, before beginning to swim back to shore.

“I was calling for you! I thought something terrible happened to you!” Azriel allowed uncharacteristic anger to leech through his words as you both met the shore again. You turned your back to him as you wring out your hair, the drips of water creating mud in the dust. The soaked fabric clung to the fissures in your back where your wings once sat proudly, Azriel swallowed deeply at the sight, trying to keep the crime from inflating his anger further. You turned at his silence, noticing the path his eyes would have followed.

“Something terrible already did happen Azriel” You bit, snatching your overshirt from the ground to shroud your scars, your shaking hands attempting to lock the buttons into place as the dots connected in Azriel’s head.

“Is-is that why you don’t swim anymore? You don’t want people to see-to see what they did?” You looked up slowly through your eyelashes, hands on the final button before uprighting yourself completely.

“The world should know what they did to me, what no amount of healer study I do can fix, what Tamlin’s fath- what that Court did to me, to my mother to my sister-” You bit out, the anger heating your skin seemingly drying the beads of water on your flesh “-and they will one day when Rhysand decides, when I am once again of use to my Court”

“YN, you’re of use now” he attempted to silence your inner voice escaping into the world, only to have you raise a palm.

“To answer your question, no, that’s not why I don’t swim with you anymore, I don’t because Aruna loved it and the water feels wrong without our little sister-” Cold burning rage that Azriel was accustomed to seeing in Rhysand but never from you filled the space between you.

“Now, let's go find that flower and go home, I’m not losing another sister” Azriel only nodded before leading the way back to the make-shift camp in contemplative silence.

The next few hours carried that thematic silence through the woods, only the occasional check-in broke it up. You didn’t even comment when Azriel released multiple branches in your direction or when you definitely passed the same boulder twice. The soles of your shoes were leaving imprints on your feet but you stayed silent, refusing to give Azriel the satisfaction of being right when he told you to change your shoes.

Azriel swung around to you on his heels as you released a blood-curdling scream from your exhausted lungs, a nearby bird fleeing the tree top at the raised alarm. His face lost any flush of colour as his eyes locked on the arrow piercing through your right thigh. He moved quickly to guide you to the floor as you screamed, blood spurting free from your flesh. In one swift movement, Azriel shielded you from another targeted arrow, it splicing one of the veins of his wings as he winced.

“Azriel!” You cried, your shaking hand going towards the bloodied arrow.

“Stay down!” He ordered, pulling some shrubbery over you as you crowed, his century-long training kicking into action as he launched in the direction of the ammunition. Tracking and trailing as fast as he could until he found the perpetrators, two members of the Hybern army armed to their teeth in weaponry. Azriel launched into swift movements, like a well-learned dance with vicious precision.

Meanwhile, you snapped the long end of the arrow, leaving the cruel head with its teeth buried in your flesh. You pulled yourself up, desperate to follow the sounds of your best friend and his battle cry. Your hobbled step worked perfectly with your exhausted feet, sending you crashing for a second time this trip, down a bank to a stream. The welcomed thud of a great tree stopped you before you could enter the rushing water. You lifted your face from the squelch of the river clay, hazy eyes landing on a brilliantly blue flower, growing like a solitary soldier between ancient rocks. You groaned as you pushed up from the mud, your detour causing the head of the arrow to be pushed in further. You managed to snatch the lifeline from its home, tucking it into your pack before beginning your laboured ascent up the steep bank. The definition of an uphill battle as you fought against the overgrowth, using deep root systems like rescue ropes until you reached the mouth of the bank again. Your faltering step carried you in the direction of the Spymaster, who was deep in his own entanglement. You watched as Azriel slashed the leg of one soldier before pressing the other into a knotty tree trunk, his blood soon covering Azriel as Truth Teller dealt its fatal blow.

“Azriel!” You shrieked in warning as the other soldier regained some strength, just as Azriel turned to your voice, a green-soaked blade slid into the Shadowsinger’s wing releasing pressurised blood systems. The advantage didn’t last very long before Truth Teller claimed another victim, the soldier slumping to the ground with a final breath. Azriel stumbled backwards, his adrenaline fleeting until the support of a large oak met his back, allowing him to slide to the cool ground.

“Az!” You yelped, limping to collapse next to his side, pallor growing across his face. You ran a hand over the wound, bright scarlet mixing with the sickly poison of a blade.

“I told, I told you to stay” He spoke with gritted teeth, attempting to sit more upright against the tree.

“You know I try my best to never listen to you” You smiled weakly, tears beginning to threaten the rim of your eyes as Azriel’s head dipped to fall on his chest. You moved quickly to prop his head up, his eyelids like lead as the poison worked through his system.

“We have to get you help, we have to get back”

“I-I can’t winn-ow both of-of us” Huffs of air left Azriel.

“Winnow yourself, I’ll figure it out” He lifted a heavy eyelid open, looking down to find your wound weeping fresh blood, swirling into his own.

“The-re there could be mor-more of them out here YN, you-you have to be the one to-to go”

“No!” You began digging through your pack, pouring the canteen of drinking water you had over his wound, trying to flush as much of the sick serum out as you could. The cobalt shimmer of the flower caught your eye again as you dug through for more water, looking from its bright colour to the dullness in your best friend. You began mashing it up into the lid of the canteen, its healing powers flowing into the water as you shook the two lifelines together.

“YN you-you found it”

“I did Az and you’re going to drink it” He pushed away slightly from you.

“Its-its for Feyre, get it to Feyre”

“I’ll figure that out, you need it Az” You held the lid of the canteen to his lips, Azriel turning his head from it despite his screaming nerves calling out for its relief.

“Kid, it’s too-too valuable, give it to Feyre”

“You’re too valuable Az! I’m not losing you too, for once in your Godsdamn life don’t fight me! Let me look after you for once!” You grabbed the nape of his neck, tilting his head back to help the liquid into his mouth despite his futile protests. The sacred serum swirled through his system, like a torch in a blackout, defending off the tar-like liquid that tried to clog his system. You took your overshirt from your skin, ripping the clean sections free to soak in the remaining drips in the lid before applying it to the wound.

“No YN, use-use it on yourself” He tried his best to push your arm away, unable to find the strength to allow you to make contact with the tattered spine. Unbeknownst to you, in your adrenaline-fueled state, your trousers were becoming laden with the blood spurting from your wounds. You sat back on your ankles, two Azriels dancing in your double-vision. You forced your eyes close, trying to banish one of the Azriels away, the swirl of blood loss becoming a bit too much as you fell back on your side, using a weakened arm to prop yourself up.

“YN! You’re okay Kid! You’re gonna be okay, stay awake” Azriel turned himself onto his knees, his strength finding its way back to him as his hands met the soft skin of your cheeks, blood leaving them to rush towards your open wound.

“I knew you’d be the death of me” You gave a weak laugh, your head rocking slightly from side to side. Azriel gave a small smile before closing the space between you, his medicinal-soaked lips meeting your frosted ones. Pulses of energy beat between you both, like everything that has ever happened both good and bad didn’t matter before this moment, each other’s lifeline in every sense. The traces of the river flower pulled you back from the brink with the essence of Azriel’s every being guiding you home. Shadows leapt around you both, pulling you both through the space until cool, clean stone laid under your legs. Azriel pulled back from you, his thumbs tracing over your cheeks as your eyes fluttered open.

“Are you kissing my sister?” Rhysand stood from his desk to look down at his closest allies, in a ball on his office floor. Cassian leapt to help you up, lying you down on the chaise before Rhysand went to pull Azriel to his own feet.

“It-it was to save her life” Azriel had thoughts of wishing the arrow had finished him off.

“Likely story” Rhysand laughed, guiding his dear friend to his desk chair before sending for Madja. Cassian busied inspecting your battle wounds.

“We were attacked and-and they poisoned me and YN she-”

“-she gave you the flower?” Rhysand sank to Azriels eyelevel, searching for answers in the stormy eyes of the Spymaster. Azriel nodded gently, his head hanging in both shame and exhaustion.

“It's okay Azriel, I wanted it for my mate, YN wanted it for hers” Azriel’s head shot back up to look at the High Lord's grinning face. Rhysand raised his hand to his face, making a locking motion at his lips before standing again, Madja quick on the scene to help.

—-------------------

5 years later

Azriel stood at the water's edge, the small lapping of the lake at his feet, the sun warming his wings as he stretched in the healing heat, a small V-shaped scar left in one of the spines. He allowed his eyes to fall close, inhaling the scents of the forest and the whoosh of the gentle breeze.

“Argh!” He flinched at the sudden wave of cold water meeting his face, rubbing it from his eyes until he opened to see you stood, waist-deep in the lake and laughing.

“You’re dead” He laughed before wading in as you roared with laughter, attempting to swim away from him to your friends. You took Nyx from Cassian’s arms as Azriel reached you.

“I have the baby!” You laughed.

“Oh weak move YN, hiding behind a child” He tilted his head back in laughter, Nyx kicking water up at his uncle, his own fit of giggles leaving him.

“Not you too Kid! Betrayal!” Azriel chuckled, wiping the water from his face that Nyx quickly replaced again. You hugged Nyx close into your chest, Azriel paddling closer to you, his arms wrapping around the both of you, his hands tracing down the scars on your back, melting into the deep fissures on his hands, making the skin feel whole again.

“Hey Az! Someone’s awake!” Rhysand called from the shoreline before bending down to the travel cot, pulling your baby from her cocoon, still swaddled in plush towelling. Cassian took Nyx from your arms before tossing him high in the air, Feyre immediately lecturing him. You and Azriel went laughing to the shore again, stray splashes escaping you both. Azriel took the baby from his brother's arms, kissing her head softly as she looked up at him, his entire world.

“Hello Flower”

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

Whatcha think?

ALSO! There are over 500 of you lovelies!!?? That's so crazy!!! Thank you so much for all of your kind words and support my friends! -C

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kislnd · 10 months ago

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possessive - george clarke~

synopsis: george has to collect a tipsy y/n after a night out with her friends - there he is introduced to one of her old coworkers.

notes: i managed to accidentally post this several times before finishing it lol (pain) 😭 thanks to anon for requesting this plot x

warnings: alcohol & angst (good resolution dw guys)

word count: 2.4k

masterlist

"are you almost ready?" george called out to y/n, who was in the bathroom finishing up her makeup. she knew her friends were here to collect her for their night out and george was just making sure she didn't end up keeping them waiting for too long. "yes, just give me a sec!" she replies, throwing a brush in the general direction of her makeup bag haphazardly.

"all done," she smiles, coming out of the bathroom, finishing touches all complete. "you look gorgeous y/n." george beams, wrapping his arms around her middle. "thank you." she returns the hug and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to walk towards the front door, with george following behind her. "have fun and be safe," he says, "and when you're ready to be picked up just give me a text." y/n nods, she was always grateful that he was willing to do things like that for her no matter what time of the night it was. "see you later then," she grins, a grin that he couldn't help but reciprocate, and steps outside to join her friends.

the pub that y/n's friends had chosen was a local one, but one that she had walked past countless times without ever giving it a second thought. she wasn't sure what to expect upon entering the establishment, but that didn't make her nervous. she had always thought that trying out new things or places was one of the things that kept life exciting.

once over the threshold, her senses were immediately flooded - loud music blaring from what appeared to be karaoke (something she anticipated she would have to pry her drunk friends away from later in the evening), several conversations, most of which were shouted in a desperate attempt to be heard over the music, and a strong smell of alcohol. at least, y/n thought, the people seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"we can either sit next to the speaker and go deaf or nearer to that group," one of her friends gestured to a fairly large group of rowdy guys near the bar, "and also go deaf." they all laugh at this, although their laughter was short-lived - the options really weren't good. "i vote anything but that," y/n scrunches her nose up thinking about the group - if they were already unpleasant from the safe distance at which she was observing them, god knows how insufferable it would be to spend a few hours practically on top of them.

after some deliberation, y/n and her friends settled on a table closer to the music. with everyone situated and ready for the night, a few of the girls made their way to the bar to grab some drinks.

"is that everything?" y/n questioned, scanning the array of drinks that had been poured for them. "seems about right," her friend shrugged, "we'll figure out if we ordered everyone something when we give them out." y/n nods, she was right. thankfully, enough of them had come to the bar to help out that what would have otherwise been a horrendous balancing act, was actually a swift and tidy transportation of drinks. y/n placed the last few glasses down on the table before turning to one of the girls and saying quietly, "i'm just going to pop to the toilet."

"do you want one of us to come with?" she asked, to which y/n shook her head - the bathroom wasn't far from where they were sitting and she wasn't worried about anything else. they had specifically chosen to sit across the room from the disruptive group of guys so she figured they wouldn't bother her.

either way, y/n decided she would move as quickly as possible, sliding past the few people nearby and into the room. she didn't want to spend more time than she needed to in there - pub toilets were unpleasant at the best of times and she also didn't really want to miss out on anything. nevertheless, she took a moment to freshen up - her makeup was still in position and her hair didn't seem to be so different from when she originally styled it so she simply gave her hands a wash and made for the door.

grabbing the cool metal handle, y/n threw the door open and set off with the intention of walking briskly back in the direction of her friends. instead, her stride was broken by a figure colliding with her as she stepped out of the bathroom. "oh!" she jumped back, her body flush with the door, "i'm so sorry." she exclaimed. the person, whom she had now realised was a man who had just come out of the bathroom himself, smiled warmly down at her. "don't worry, i wasn't really looking where i was going." y/n studied his face for a moment, she could've sworn she recognised him but she couldn't quite put her finger on where from. "sorry," she brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face, "do i know you from somewhere?" she paused, wondering if that had been a strange question, "i just feel like you look familiar," she added.

"you're y/n aren't you?" the man cocked his eyebrow, but didn't wait for a response. "we used to work together." realisation hit y/n, she couldn't believe she had managed to briefly forget him, they had spent almost every day for a number of years side by side. she couldn't even blame this one on alcohol. "of course!" she laughed at her own silliness and also in the hopes of relieving some tension - she was praying she hadn't offended him. "we had some good times." she smiled. much to her relief, he smiled back, "absolutely, i can't believe how much time has passed. i'd love to catch up with you." y/n liked the idea - she had to admit that she had wondered what he was up to and this would be the perfect opportunity to check in. however, she also recognised that she was here with her friends and it would be wrong to abandon them, especially when they were the ones that organised the evening.

"i'm kind of with people at the moment," y/n gave him an apologetic look, she had tried to word it kindly, in a way that didn't seem like a harsh refusal of his offer. "no worries, just whenever you have a free moment later on," he smiles, "drinks on me, of course." y/n returns the smile, "see you later then."

y/n could feel her head growing fuzzy and she could tell her friends felt the same, so it had been a collective decision to end the night there. with everyone calling taxis or friends to collect them, y/n decided to drop george a text to come and collect her in around half an hour's time. as promised, she found her way to her ex-coworker's table, telling herself that she could only accept one drink out of politeness and as to not hate herself too much the next morning.

"so what'll it be?" he asks grinning, digging into his pocket to find his wallet. "just whatever you're having," y/n slid into a chair and waited for him to return with the drink. soon enough, the drinks arrived and after getting over some initial awkwardness, they were back to chatting like old friends. y/n was so caught up in conversation that she hadn't realised george had texted her numerous times that he had arrived until he entered the pub himself and informed her.

"i've been trying to get you to come outside for a bit now," george says, approaching the table where they were sitting. he wasn't angry, he was aware that y/n would be caught up with her friends and therefore a little slower to check her phone, but he was confused. who was this guy? he'd met y/n's friends on countless occasions, and she often mentioned them, but this stranger hadn't ever seemed to come up in conversation. "i'm sorry," she looked up at him with flushed cheeks, the alcohol had definitely gotten to her. george was about to open his mouth to ask her who the mystery man was but before he could get there, she interjected, "this is my old coworker, from when i worked at the shop."

suddenly it made sense - maybe y/n had mentioned him in passing, he was sure she'd talked about her time at the shop a couple of times previously. "well nice meeting you," george didn't really feel like engaging in any formalities, all he really wanted was to get y/n home and go to bed. "we'd better get home." he smiled somewhat apologetically, and took y/n by the hand in an attempt to coax her to stand up. "honestly, please join us," the man, who george still didn't know the name of (nor did he really care to find out either), said. "we were only just beginning to catch up." george glanced at y/n, although he wasn't so sure if she was in a good position to be passing judgement.

"that would be nice," she smiled softly, "george?" she looked up at him with big eyes, eyes that he often found very hard to resist. george still wasn't sold on the idea. "are you sure? it's getting quite late now." he questioned, in the hopes that she would agree and they could go. he really was not a fan of how eager this guy was to spend time with her, and it was made worse by the fact that he hardly knew the guy. "please?" y/n tightened her grip on his hand, willing him to just take the seat next to her.

at this point, george obliged. it was clear y/n was enjoying herself and this guy didn't make her uncomfortable. it was not worth ruining her night and mood by forcing her to come with him. "alright." he said flatly, admittedly through gritted teeth. y/n raised an eyebrow at his tone but brushed it off, maybe he was just tired and besides, he absolutely could tolerate sitting down and talking for a short while.

the more he talked, the more george was sure he couldn't stand the guy. the way he looked at y/n with such blind adoration in his eyes, the way he kept reaching out to touch her on the arm briefly during the conversation and his body language, completely focused towards y/n as if he wasn't there - it was all far too much.

george made a point of blatantly checking the time and announcing it to the table, "right, i think we should call it a night here?" he turned to y/n, who was obviously more tired than she had been when he first arrived, who solemnly agreed. george stood up first, quickly helping y/n up and wrapping his arm around her shoulder protectively. "thank you, that was a lovely evening," her former coworker smiled, "we should do this again y/n." the fact he had purposely left george out of the conversation, without even having the decency to offer an invite to him (or to any of her friends) confirmed every suspicion.

george's body stiffened, his grip on y/n tightening slightly. "i don't think that would be appropriate." he said calmly, masking how truly infuriating it was for him to be witnessing this behaviour. "we're leaving now." he didn't give y/n a chance to wave goodbye or say thank you to her old friend, and instead took off briskly towards the exit and to the car.

"what was that about?" y/n looked puzzled, to her the night had simply been catching up with someone from her past and nothing more. "could you seriously not tell?" george himself was dumbfounded, it was beyond him how she could be so oblivious. "tell what?" y/n snapped back at him, "all i could tell was that you hated him. your face was sour the entire night."

"well forgive me for not taking a liking to the guy who was practically undressing you with his eyes," george began to raise his voice, he didn't like getting angry and wouldn't ever want to upset y/n but it was impossible to contain his rage in the moment. "he was not!" y/n protested, "he is just an ex-colleague, what has gotten into you?"

"to you maybe," george still felt disgusted, "i mean, did you even notice that he was constantly trying to touch you?" y/n shook her head in disbelief, "i think you're being dramatic. even if he was flirting with me, why would it matter?" silence clung to the air. george stared at the ground helplessly, he knew that no matter the number of ways he tried to explain this to y/n she would just be adamant he wasn't making advances on her. "i like you not him." she reached out to touch him on the arm, "george, i'm not angry at you. i think i was just surprised."

y/n stepped closer to him carefully and slotted herself under his chin, wrapping her arms around him in the most reassuring hug she could muster - he did the same. "i'm sorry." he mumbled into her hair where he had buried his face, "it's hard to not get jealous when you have such a beautiful girlfriend." y/n grinned, "you are silly." she paused, contemplating whether or not to share her thoughts. "and for the record, i do think you are extra hot when you're jealous."

"oh?" george raised his eyebrow, "well, as long as you don't keep meeting up with random co-workers that definitely have a crush on you, i can live with that." he chuckled. "don't worry, you definitely scared him away." y/n laughed, "i am not at risk." george mocked offense, "hilarious y/n," he smiled sarcastically, guiding her towards the car and opening the passenger door for her to climb in before getting in himself.

"i do love you, you know," she stared out of the windscreen in thought. "i know you do, and i love you," george patted her knee, "let's just worry about getting you home now."

#george clarke #george clarkey #george clarke imagine #george clarke x reader #george clarkey x reader #george clarke fluff #george clarke fics

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jaylaxies · 2 months ago

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CALL ME WHEN YOU HATE ME LESS

PAIRING: lee jeno x fem!reader (ft. jaehyun and jaemin)

GENRE/CW: smut, angst, eventual fluff, porn with plot, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, blowjob, using panties as a gag, spitting, edging, squirting, mentions of fighting, blood, usage of nicknames, slowburn if you squint, emotional trauma, lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 18,321 words. (18.3k)

PLAYLIST: here.

SYNOPSIS: Jeno Lee was a walking academic hazard—hot, broody, and failing just about everything that wasn’t football. Enter you, his new tutor: organized, overachieving, and absolutely not here for his attitude or his annoyingly perfect jawline. But between late-night study sessions, petty insults, and one very inconvenient almost-kiss, things start spiraling—fast. He’s supposed to be you project. You are supposed to hate him. Instead, you both are one sarcastic comment away from either a breakdown or a makeout—and honestly, it could go either way.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni (the full fic will include smut).

A/N: hihi, angels! i'm finally back with a jeno fic aaa thank you my girls @jaeminvore @hoondrop @gojosmojodojo for giving me ideas and listening to me losing my shit over this fic <333 i hope y’all enjoy reading it <33 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Chapter 1: Raised in Shadows, Told to Shine.

Comparison.

The core of all insecurities. The onset of overthinking. The path to self loathing.

That’s what comparison does to a person—drive them to the edge of insanity in hopes of turning into something; into someone the others will look up to, compare themselves to.

It was a bad thing per se, but it was motivation enough for Jeno to work harder in order to leave the country, to get away from his family.

The reason? His mother ever so conveniently happened to have fallen in love with a rich guy, someone who never knew what struggle meant, and Jeno was just four back then. It didn’t take much time for him to settle into the lifestyle, however, no matter how much he could have prepared to face his step-brother, he simply couldn’t bother looking him in the eye.

Why? Because he was known to be the epitome of perfection. Jung Jaehyun was the son every parent wanted, the student every teacher was fond of, the doctor every nurse wanted to work with.

The sweet dimple on his cheek was a great asset in melting the hearts of everyone in his proximity or afar.

Jeno on the other hand, wasn’t quite sure why he wasn’t considered to be enough, especially when he got decent grades throughout his school life, he wasn’t a bother, kind to those who were around them, but it changed.

It changed when he got daily reminders of how he wasn’t even close to how amazing and successful his step brother was.

That’s when things started looking down for Jeno. He stopped caring about the grades, he wasn’t sure why he was supposed to put up a I’m so good, so smart act in front of others when there was no reason for him to do that.

Others didn’t bother doing the same for him.

Rather, he tried to work upon the only thing he was passionate about, the only thing that mattered to him—football.

Despite winning several trophies for playing the sport, his parents labelled it to be useless, which broke the last fragment of his heart, shattering it to the point of no return.

“Being an excellent player in the sports team does not guarantee you your scholarship, Mr. Lee,” Jeno’s teacher incharge spoke up, taking off her specs right after reviewing his annual grade report, “you’re failing three out of five modules, and if you don’t start getting back on track soon, then I’m afraid you won’t be able to play in the team anymore.”

Fuck.

Jeno had been neglecting his studies, he admits, yet he never thought that he’d reach this point. It’s not that he wasn’t smart, he simply had no motivation to go on with his studies. His parents could easily pay the university to keep him around, however, he wanted nothing from them, which also explains why he got himself a scholarship in the first place.

“I’m sorry if I’m late.” Jeno’s eyes snapped wide open, turning back to see his step brother entering the teacher’s cabin.

“Why are you here?” Jeno asked, a muscle in his jaw twitching but Jaehyun only smiled.

Jeno’s professor was equally stunned, probably even more with her jaw wide open at the appearance of such a handsome young man.

“I called him in since your parents were busy,” his professor said, handling Jeno a letter, “go and find your tutor in the council room, she’ll be helping you with the upliftment of your grades, Mr. Lee, and now if you’ll excuse us, I’ve got to fill in your brother with your current situation,” she said the last part awfully sweetly as Jaehyun sat down in one of the vacant chairs, smiling at her kind tone.

Jeno scoffed, the demeanor change around Jaehyun went crazy and he wasn’t a fan of it, especially when he was called in to complain about his mistakes.

He simply wanted to leave the university and never come back.

“Come in,” you allowed, not looking up as Jeno made his way inside the room, observing the surroundings where he’s never been before.

He simply stood there, hands shoved into his pockets while still looking around, and you took a second to grab the letter, skimming over to read and understand that the letter was given by Mrs. Kim, the teacher in charge of your department, requesting you to take up the few teaching sessions you had applied for, Jeno being the student you’ll have to teach for the same.

You clicked your tongue, folding the letter exactly as it was before pushing it his way, your arms folding across your chest as you finally spoke up, “I reject. I don’t wish to teach you.”

His eyes were quick to snap towards you, finally staring right into your own eyes, irritation clear as he pushed his tongue on his inner cheek, eyebrow raised.

“Aren’t you supposed to kiss your professor’s feet, given that you’re in student council? And here I thought you’d be a good girl.” Jeno rasped, resting his arms on your table, leaning down to your level.

“What the fuck do you mean waste your time?”

“Lee Jeno, you’ve got more money with you than your bank account can handle, so I’m sure losing your scholarship won’t do you much harm,” you said with a sickening smile, “you’ve got no interest in studying, your attendance record states that oh so proudly.”

“You don’t know shit about me,” Jeno seethed out, messy hair strands falling over his eyes.

“I know everything I need to know about you. Now excuse me, unlike you, I actually have work to do,” you said, passing him a tight lipped smile, not letting the proximity faze you.

“You—”

Jeno’s sentence was cut short with two sharp knocks on the slightly ajar door, a head peeking in, successfully garnering your attention. You could feel your mood doing one eighty with the sudden intrusion of this stranger—whom you didn’t wish to be a stranger around anymore, your eyes softening, lips parting as you stared at him in awe.

Meanwhile, if Jeno thought that the day was done being a bitch to him, then he was wrong because the level of irritation that bubbled up in him the moment he saw the change in your expressions.

“Sorry to interrupt, may I get in?” Jaehyun asked, smiling his usual dimpled smile, which had you swooning in record time.

You could practically see veins of frustration popping out on Jeno’s neck, “no. Your work is done, you should head back home,” he groaned, but Jaehyun only looked you way, continuing to get in, looking your way.

“I’m Jaehyun, Jeno’s elder brother. I can’t thank you enough for agreeing on giving him tutoring lessons, especially with how busy you must be with council duties,” he spoke up, shaking your hand, which was smaller in his warm, big hands.

Jeno scoffed, “she’s not—”

It was ridiculous.

It was absurd how just two sentences; paired with a sweet smile from his brother, were enough for you to change your decision, in the span of two seconds at that.

He tightened the hold he had on the strap of his black bag, “no fucking need. I’ll find another tutor,” Jeno deadpanned, walking out of the room, not paying attention to Jaehyun who called out his name in the background.

He wouldn’t let you use him to get to his brother.

It didn’t bother him that his knuckles were bruising, he knew he needed this extrinsic pain to get rid of the obvious hurt he felt each day.

And he couldn’t understand why he felt so affected by your actions, especially when it was the first time you had met.

Jealousy was indeed a bitch.

Chapter 2: Surrendered to the skirt.

Two days passed by and Jeno’s mood showed no progress in terms of improving, rather, he felt worse each time the memory invaded his brain. He tried his best to sit down and open the first module of the unit he had to study.

It’s not like he was bad at studying, he was just a bit out of practice, and well, his mental health wasn’t doing much to help him get any better.

Why were you here after clearly rejecting him? Why were you here when he’s clearly told you he doesn’t want you to be his tutor?

You took a second to take in his appearance as he was clad in casual gray sweatpants with a black tank, which honestly did nothing to hide his muscles.

“Why are you here?” Jeno asked with a bored tone.

“I’m here to teach you, remember?” You gave him a pointed look.

“And I clearly told you I don’t wish to study from you, it’s better if you leave now. I’ll just tell Mrs. Kim that you taught me,” he said, almost turning back to go inside.

“And have them wondering how you failed even after getting tutored by me? Yeah, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, inviting yourself in without second thoughts.

“Y/n, I’m not fucking kidding, you should leave. Besides, the one you came for isn’t at home at the moment,” he muttered bitterly.

That caught your attention, “oh? Busy with a job then?” You asked, looking around the exquisite paintings hung at the entrance of his place.

“Are you gonna leave or do I have to call the guards to escort you out?”

Jeno groaned, his lip bitten as he tried to think if tolerating you would be worth the questions, but his football career was at stake and there was no better option but to accept it.

“What’s the catch?” Jeno asked after a few seconds, sighing with defeat.

“Nothing at all. We both know that you need these papers to get the grade that you wanna achieve and I’ll get my extra credits,” you reason.

You were clad in a pretty skirt which showed off your legs—which you did wear in hopes of crossing paths with Jaehyun, but you completely missed how Jeno was staring at your body.

He wasn’t sure if it was out of hatred that he stared at you, or it was admiration because you were one of those people he despised—overachievers.

“I’ll manage,” you shrugged, “so, I need your final word, Mr. Lee.”

“I am sure I can find better tutors than you,” he raised his brows, challenging you and you didn’t look fazed at all.

Overconfidence. He sighed.

Jeno stared at your extended hand, thinking of the bigger picture here. He’d get tutoring and would be able to score decent grades if he gets back to his usual routine of studying.

Downside? He’d have to face you each day.

“So, where are we gonna study?”

Chapter 3: Silent room, a loud mind.

Turns out, it’s not that easy to sit down and just teach Jeno.

Given the amount of classes he had missed, or rather, the amount of classes he had managed to attend, it was clear that he didn’t even have the basic idea of the syllabus for the semester modules.

Moreover, you had already pissed him off by mentioning how you didn’t expect him to have such a clean and organized room, as if you had already decided that he was going to be a messy human.

It was surprisingly peaceful between you two, as if you both wished to get over with it as soon as possible, behaving as civilly as you could but there was this one thing that Jeno couldn’t stop doing.

Overthinking.

That’s all what people in his life did anyway.

“You were cute as a kid, what happened to you now?” You joked, chuckling as you looked his way, only to find his mouth slightly agape.

He hadn’t expected you to say that, and he certainly didn’t want to retort back with something that would ruin his mood, “I grew up to be hot is what happened to me,” he replied smoothly.

Now that you were actually interacting with him, you were going to find out how many of the rumors were true about him.

He only leaned closer at your statement, you could see his muscles flexing as he rested one arm on the table in front of you both, “it’s not a joke, love. I am hot.”

You scoffed at the term of endearment, suddenly aware of his scent now that he was so close to you, “and egoistic too,” you helpfully added.

“Rightfully so.”

Your childish argument was interrupted that very second as the door to Jeno’s room swung open, revealing the exact man you came to see.

Jaehyun was smiling, dressed in black slacks and a button up shirt as he welcomed you here, and you were quick to notice Jeno’s mood turning fowl that very second.

“Thank you so much for coming here, Y/n. Let me send a few snacks and drinks for you both while you study,” he smiled, and you rushed up to stand, not even bothering about the pen that fell down as you did so.

“Jaehyun,” you walked up to him, much to Jeno’s dismay, “oh, you don’t have to do anything,” you smiled sweetly, and he only shook his head softly, grabbing your arm.

“Don’t worry about it, just sit and relax, okay?” He squeezed your arm, going downstairs and you sighed with a smile. Even his scent was perfect to you.

“You done daydreaming?” Jeno asked, deadpanning once his brother had left.

“You done solving the question?” You retorted.

He sighed, as if his energy was drained already, “yeah, just check and get this over with,” he said, handing you the binder and looking elsewhere.

He was smart, he just simply didn’t wish to study.

“Something wrong?” He asked, cocking his brow and you blinked, “you’re actually not as dumb as you portray yourself to be,” you mumbled, checking everything thoroughly.

It should’ve been insulting to Jeno per se, but even the slightest amount of approval was a big thing for him, causing the corner of his lips to curl up. He felt insane, the amount of emotions he felt in a single day was perhaps the reason for the same, courtesy of you.

He was glad Jaehyun didn’t enter the room again, sending in a servant staff to give you the snacks instead, which maintained the peace throughout the session.

You couldn’t help but notice how well he concentrated once there was silence in the room, your eyes focused on his hand gripping the pen, making it seem more veiny than it already was.

Also, you didn’t miss the hint of a smile ghosting his face when you told him he did a good job right before leaving, which made you think of a few things, one being—

He looked beautiful with a smile.

Chapter 4: You can’t read my mind, so read my lips.

As much as Jeno loved the comfort of his room, he really wanted to avoid you bumping into Jaehyun again.

Even the thought of your interactions, your fake sweet smiles, made him wanna punch the wall. Jaehyun really had it easy and Jeno never understood why, it was no joke that Jeno was decent looking as well, talented in his own way, and a kind hearted person who just happened to have a protective wall around him so as to not get hurt any further.

Which is why you had been tutoring him in the library from the past ten sessions, his own personal request to avoid having privacy with you.

Heck, even Jeno didn’t know it was his own mind trying to protect him, which is why he couldn’t let anyone in, anyone.

Which made this situation far from ideal as he had you pressed against the library wall, no distance between you both as you closed your eyes in pure distress.

“What the actual fuck is he doing here?” Your question was directed more to yourself, which confused Jeno further.

He poked his tongue into his cheek, annoyance creeping through, “what the fuck is going on?” He asked.

“Shhh, not so loud,” you pressed your palm against his mouth, “just hide me.”

He sighed in annoyance, looking back at the direction of your supposed fear.

Na Jaemin. Another of Jeno’s football teammates.

“Why are you hiding from Jaemin,” he asked, brow raised as he leaned into you.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “he’s my ex, he shouldn’t even be in the library, he’s never here!” You were stressed and Jeno smirked devilishly.

“Fucking hell, you’re the girl he keeps on stalking and crying about?” He chuckled, “let me call him,” he turned away for a second.

You used your free hand to grab his nape, “don’t fucking move,” you mumbled.

Perhaps you were too harsh with the grabbing, also not calculating the proximity enough, because Jeno’s nose was brushing against yours, lips close to the point of touching, and a low groan escaping his lips as your name rolls out his tongue in the most angry grunt ever, “what the actual fuck are you doing?”

“J—just let him leave,” you mumbled, gulping and closing your eyes, his mint breath fanning your face as heat crept up your neck, up till your ears.

“What will I get out of it,” he asked, his free hand resting on your waist now, “why should I help you?”

“I’m literally helping you study, Jeno,” you seethed out.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he groaned, making you open your eyes, staring into his deep ones now, suddenly feeling small under his gaze, and well, his body.

“What?” you asked, looking away to check if Jaemin had left, pushing Jeno away the second you confirmed it.

Jeno, however, wasn’t having any of it.

“Let go, I fucking swear—” you let out, squirming around and pushing him, he didn’t budge at all sadly.

“You do realize I’m a lot stronger than you, right?” He chuckled.

“Fuck—what do you want me to do?” You rolled your eyes, jaw clenching as you looked at him.

Jaemin was back and you could just not deal with his ass anymore, hence the overwhelming response. Fight or flight? Flight for sure. Dragging Jeno into it might be a stretch but hey, whatever helped you run away from the gremlin, right?

“Y/N,” Jeno hissed yet again, once you stopped by your seat, gathering both yours and his belongings scattered across the table from when you were studying a few minutes back, before getting up to find a book, before seeing Jaemin roaming around the halls of the library.

It was quite amusing to Jeno if he was being honest, a mix of feelings as you grabbed his wrist effortlessly yet again, your eyes set on the exit door leading to the parking lot where Jeno’s Ferrari Purosangue stood proudly.

“Get in!” You screamed even though you were far from the threat (read: Jaemin) now.

“That’s my car in case you forgot—”

“Now.”

“So fucking annoying—” He grumbled, with a small smile playing on his lips.

You looked so bothered as if you were chased by Ghostface and not Jaemin, even though you probably wouldn’t run away from the prior. It was comical regardless, the long breath you exhaled once you were comfortable on his premium quality car seat, head leaned back fully.

You opened your eyes after a few seconds only to find Jeno’s eyes on you, face curved into an amused look. You stared at one another for a second, two seconds, three seconds—and he burst out laughing.

You were calm and composed for the most part, it was rare for you to look this frustrated over anything, which came as a surprise to Jeno, the whole situation seemingly pure comedy to him.

You observed him so carefully, your own lips twitching into a smile and before you knew it, you were laughing alongside him so normally as if two friends were laughing over a joke.

A weird sort of warmth spread over your body, it made no sense honestly, you were pinned to the wall just a few minutes back and Jeno looked as if he’d burst into flames with his anger, and now he’s laughing at your disheveled, non-composed state.

Once Jeno caught you staring back at him with glittering eyes, and a little smile, he froze. It was easy for him to come back to his senses (read: put his walls back up) which only made your smile drop too. It was awkward, both of you looking elsewhere while clearing your throats, definitely not something you expected.

“Uh—sorry about that, yeah,” you mumbled, playing with the loose threat of your sweater sleeve.

“Yeah, no problem,” he retorted, turning the car engine on to start driving.

Why was it awkward? Because you laughed together like two absolutely normal individuals? Because you had Jeno pinning you to the wall to avoid your ex?

Or because you almost kissed. Almost.

The ride back to your apartment was silent, no songs playing in the car, just the small buzz of engine, and the nail tapping on the screen of your phone—to avoid any kind of conversation happening, also clearly missing out on how Jeno glanced at you every few seconds, the speed of his thoughts running faster than his own car.

“I’ll—see you tomorrow then?” Your voice cracked as you said so, wincing slightly at your own tone.

Jeno was about to chuckle again, yet he covered it with a low cough as he mumbled a yes, as you opened the door once he stopped in front of your apartment.

That’s it, you were leaving, and his eyes didn’t leave you till you disappeared into the apartment.

No, he couldn’t drive, couldn’t focus on the road anymore, stopping the car at a random parking lot of a fast food chain, grabbing his phone to pull up Instagram, specifically Jaemin’s account.

He didn’t have to scroll much to find the picture he was looking for—his teammate, Jaemin, standing right next to you with his arm resting on your waist. Jeno didn’t know why that picture left a bitter taste in his mouth all of a sudden, knowing well how badly Jaemin fucked up when he cheated on you.

And now the asshole is running after you again.

You didn’t deserve that, you deserve someone better—someone perfect like you.

Beautiful.

Jeno thought you looked beautiful, and it made him angry.

He was angry—because deep down, he desired to be the reason for your smile.

Chapter 5: Pretty in pink, but my head’s in the dark.

Jeno made you smile.

You did know that laugh was contagious, however, you didn’t think you’d actually give in to Jeno’s sweet chuckles.

Sleep didn’t come to you easy when the constant reminder of the study session poked the back of your mind, not to mention what happened in the library earlier, where you and Jeno almost kissed—

No.

You shook your head. Such niche experiences never falter you, so why was this such a big deal?

Another groan left your mouth, but alas, your body was relaxed enough to sleep so you woke up energetic the next day. It felt oddly friendly when you saw Jeno at the University, and he threw a two finger salute your way, you waved back before going your way.

Being descriptive about it didn’t help either—yet another reminder of how Jeno’s body was pressed against yours this hour, yesterday.

Heat crept up your neck, urging you to pack up and leave the room. It was hot, stuffy almost for you to do anything, which is why you found yourself studying at the empty seat of the University park.

Before you could even ring the bell, the door opened to a huffing Jeno, almost as if he ran downstairs, but how did he know—

“Hey,” he whispered, looking around.

“Shh,” Jeno mumbled, as though he was trying to avoid someone, or rather, trying to hide you from someone. His efforts were futile, however, once he heard that stern voice of his mother booming through the walls of his mansion.

Now you get why Jeno was in a hurry, the look on her face had a chill going down your spine.

You felt Jeno stiffen alongside you, his hold on your wrist now tighter, uncontrollably so.

“You must be the new tutor for Jeno,” she said, scrutinizing every bit of your existence, Jeno’s jaw clenched at her unwavering gaze.

“Yes ma’am, It’s a pleasure meeting you,” you tried to say, only for her to cut you off.

“Trust me, darling. There must be no pleasure in helping Jeno, but I do hope he learns a thing or two from you—you look like a smart young lady, hopefully, a positive influence on him.”

You looked at her with your mouth open slightly, not believing the sight in front of you. No mother should look down on their children like that, ever.

“Mrs. Jung, I hope we’re talking about the same Jeno because he is amazing at studies, he grasps concepts faster than I do, and then I believe I’m the one who’s learning from him right now!” You smiled, full of enthusiasm, feeling Jeno’s hand dropping down from your wrist.

You passed her a small smile, the shock clear on her face, before grabbing Jeno’s hand and taking him along with you—to his room. You didn’t look back, simply closing the door as you breathed out with a pissed expression.

Jeno’s heart was beating fast, he wasn’t sure if he had words to speak at this moment, so staring at you was all he could do.

You spoke for him.

You defended him.

No one’s ever done that, no one cared enough to understand, moreover, it didn’t help how you looked angrier than him at the situation.

“W—Why?” Jeno couldn’t keep his voice in check, “you didn’t have to—say all that.”

That’s when you turned around, facing him. All your anger disappeared once you focused on his face, so vulnerable, so confused, so desperate to know your answer.

“Jeno,” the gentleness in your voice only made him gulp and look down at the floor, “I hope you don’t believe a word she says, because that’s not true,” you spoke, inching closer.

You were not one who was good at making people feel better, Jeno of all people at that, however, this gave you an insight of why Jeno is the way he is—closed off, hence the lack of words from your side, but you knew you had to say it.

“Jeno, you’re doing so well, you know that right?” You whispered, as genuine as possible, your fingers grabbing his own, which made him look up at you finally.

He was shaken, not from his mother’s words—he was used to them—but from yours.

Jeno didn’t realize his eyes were glistening.

“What?” You breathed out.

He gulped yet again, jaw clenched now as he struggled to get his words out, the floor being the most interesting thing to him, “defended me. No one’s done that.”

“Don’t. Don’t fucking go there.”

“I didn’t mean—”

You stayed mum, letting him speak.

“Every place, every room, every fucking person just sees him,” he muttered, “I need to better, but it’s never enough, because he already did it—Jaehyun did it better. You look at him the same way as others do, and me? The afterthought—the failure.”

Your heart broke a little, guilt settling in because unknowingly, you fueled the same anger and trauma for him.

“Jeno,” you mumbled, “you’re not a failure.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’m starting to,” you spoke, and he looked up, “and thank god you’re not Jaehyun,” you chuckled, fingers ghosting near his jaw, your touch featherlight, making him suck in a deep breath.

“Why?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, eyes hopeful, which scared him.

“Because you’re real, you don’t fake your emotions. You don’t smile at somebody who you don’t care about, you get angry, messy, you let yourself be shown how you are,” you lip twitched slightly as you said so, your own heartbeat rose at the sentences you so easily uttered, “that’s what makes you a human, Jeno, a human who’s trying his best, which is what matters.”

He blinked.

He wanted to speak, but he couldn’t, simply leaning into your touch with his eyes closed.

“You’re you, the stupid jock who’s not scared of anything, yeah?” You tried to make him smile, which helped as you saw his lips curving up.

Midway through your sentences, you genuinely questioned yourself about why you even like Jaehyun, it was honestly just your mind playing games with you.

“You scare me,” he muttered.

“Why?”

“Because you say things so convincingly, it makes me wanna believe you.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Just—don’t say it when you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” you said in a breath, his eyes on yours now, more intense than ever, “I mean every word.”

He stared a little longer, staring at you unamused as if you’d laugh in his face right this second. You didn’t.

“You’re serious,” he said, voice hoarse.

You nodded softly.

Jeno took a single step forward, the air around you so tight, it felt like a rubber band stretched to its max, on the verge of snapping back.

You inhaled sharply once Jeno’s cold hand brushed the hair on your shoulder, grazing against your bare skin, moving up your nape.

“Do you have any idea what you just said to me?” He murmured, eyes locked on yours, turning you around easily to pin you against the wall—something he liked to do, apparently.

“Tell me,” you mumbled.

If someone told you two days back that you’d be in Jeno’s room, calming him down before getting into a compromising position with him, you would have laughed in their faces. It was reality for you now, something that made you feel so unconventionally flustered.

The way he brushed his thumb along your jaw, slow and deliberate, made you shiver, “you’re making me forget that i’m supposed to hate this—feeling anything.”

You were hanging on the last bit of your sanity, drowning in Jeno’s scent, his nose brushing against your cheek, hand gripping your waist, heat radiating off of your body.

“Jeno—”

“Say it again,” he whispered.

“Say what?” You breathed.

“That you’re glad I’m not him.”

You chuckled under his hold, your voice still shaking, “I’m so glad—so fucking glad you’re not him.”

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, only leaning into his touch, resting your hand over the top of his on your jaw. The touch was faint, yet you could feel it everywhere.

You held your breath as he leaned in—

Knock.

Jeno swore under his breath as you flinched, it physically hurt him to step back.

“Jeno?” Of course, it was Jaehyun who had to interrupt you two.

Your hands trembled as Jeno moved to the door, and you quickly turned towards the desk, rushing to sit down, pretending that nothing had happened—that you didn’t almost kiss Jeno a few seconds back.

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes furious with a hint of daze in them. “Yeah?” His voice came out strained as he asked Jaehyun through the door.

“Mom wants to talk to you,” He said.

Then he opened the door, closing it behind him and disappearing from your eyesight.

You stayed there, overwhelmed, lips tingling, pulse racing.

A truth burned your skin in an excruciating pain.

If he had kissed you, you wouldn’t have stopped him.

Chapter 6: I can go from A to Z, but U is what I want.

Jeno hadn’t texted you all night.

Not that you waited, except, you did.

He never came back to the room after Jaehyun called him out, you waited, till you couldn’t anymore and had to rush out before your mind drove you to the edge of insanity.

So you grabbed your bag, rushing to the first place you thought of—the courtyard behind the Science block. It was calm, no student in sight, thankfully.

Jaemin.

“I gotta admit, I didn’t peg you to fall for the broken type.” He stepped out smiling as insane as a villain who hasn’t moved on does.

“Still stalking me?” You rolled your eyes, “get a fucking job.”

“I call it being invested,” he smirked, shoving hands in his pockets, “it’s honestly a downgrade, going from me to Jeno.”

“Not again,” you muttered, grabbing your book which you had just taken out.

“I mean, trading me for Jeno?” Voice full of pity.

“As if you were an option, Jaemin,” you turned sharply.

That shut him up for half a second.

“I just don’t get it,” he said, voice colder now. “He’s always angry, I was angry, I made you feel something, can he say the same?”

Your head was hurting by now, as you mumbled yet another shut up, only to be stopped by Jaemin as he grabbed your arm.

“What? He’s the angry, tortured type. You’re into hopeless projects now?”

“I’m into honesty,” you snapped, “something you don’t offer.”

“What does he have that I don’t?”

“Self awareness maybe,” a voice came from behind you, low, cold, almost lethal.

Jeno was here.

“Let go of her,” he said, dead-eyed, he was ready to snap.

And Jaemin did, a scoff leaving his mouth before he smirked, “great, speak of the devil.”

Jeno raised his brow, “you done?”

Jaemin chuckled, “not even close.”

You sighed, “of course not,” this day couldn’t get worse.

“You really think this is love or whatever?” He said, looking at Jeno but his words were directed to you instead, “he’s gonna burn you someday, and you’re gonna let him.”

Oh god, you were not having any of this, why was this conversation even happening? It made absolutely no sense.

Jeno moved faster this time, but you blocked his chest with your arms, “enough,” you said sharply.

“Ask him to leave.” Jeno said, voice low.

“Jaemin, just leave,” you said, turning to him.

But he didn’t, and so Jeno did, shoving past you as you rolled your eyes, Jaemin’s sinister smile only widening, getting so close to him, he had to lean back slightly.

“Don’t test me, and don’t come near her again, or else I won’t be this patient.” Jeno spoke.

“Aw? You’re gonna hit me in front of her, Jeno?”

“I don’t need to, she already cut you deeper than I ever could.”

Jaemin blinked, clenching his jaw, before turning to you, maintaining eye contact, “she’s not your girl, Jeno.”

“You don’t know that,” he gritted his teeth.

“You’ll come back,” Jaemin’s jaw ticked as he said so.

“Hold your breath until I do,” you replied.

That was it, he left. It wasn’t silent, nor dramatic, but with enough tension to let you know that he will be coming back.

Once he was gone, you shoved Jeno, hard.

“The fuck was that?”

“What? I came here trying to find you, only to witness you talking to him.”

“I didn’t want it to happen either, but the world hates me,” you mumbled, grabbing your bag and walking away with Jeno following you behind.

“I fucking hate that he still gets to talk to you, why does he have access to you?” His voice rose and you prayed no one would hear him, thankfully this area was empty.

“He doesn’t, and why do you even care?” You asked, with distress clear on your face, “pretending like I mean something to you in front of Jaemin is just as worse, Jeno.”

“I—”

“No, you won’t even talk about last night, as if it didn’t happen,” you snapped and he froze, “you didn’t even come back to your room.”

His silence was your answer, and you knew this conversation wasn’t gonna go any further, Jeno couldn’t do that—he was scared of opening up, and he was scared of answering those questions, so even though you were hurting on the inside, you let him be.

“Tomorrow, library, at five. Be on time.” You mumbled, leaving him behind you.

“Fuck—fuck!” Jeno punched the wall next to him. He didn’t want you to go—the first person who ever tried to understand him, took his side, defended him. He was beyond scared of letting his guard down, so he groaned, sliding down the wall.

“How do I even tell you I want you?”

Chapter 7: I stayed, even when it was easier to run.

The library was too quiet for how loud your mind was. The sound of your pen dragging across the paper felt almost intrusive as you tried to finish your assignment.

It had been three nights since the library fiasco.

Two nights since the almost kiss.

One night since the blow up with Jaemin.

You almost didn’t wish to come here, yet here you were, with the sample test papers ready, clad in your little black skirt, a cardigan too loose for you, waiting for Jeno to show up—hoping he would.

He came in like guilt personified, shoulders hunched, hoodie loose, hair an unbrushed mess of indecision. And when he saw you?

He hesitated.

It was unbearable.

Just yesterday, he burned through Jaemin like jealousy was oxygen.

“You won’t even talk to me now?” He asked, keeping his voice in check.

“Four answers wrong, you did pretty well, can do better still,” you mumbled, passing him the paper.

“Y/N,” he sighed, tired, he was afraid of this happening—letting you down, and that’s exactly what he did. Running away from his problems was what Jeno always did, he wasn’t perfect, he knows it, but he wants to try and be better, better for you.

“You came late,” you said, still not looking up.

“I didn’t sleep last night,” he exhaled, jaw clenched.

“Not my problem,” you retorted.

“I was thinking.”

“You should study instead.”

“You hate me now, huh?” Jeno leaned forward, voice flat.

You blinked. The question hit out of nowhere.

“I don’t hate you,” you replied carefully. “But I don’t know how to deal with you either.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No, Jeno. It’s the truth. And that’s more than you’ve been giving me.”

He looked at you then, really looked—eyes narrowed, jaw tight, like he was keeping a war behind his teeth. His eyes were empty, yet so full of you.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said, quietly. “I don’t know how to be—good at this, with you.”

“And yet you’re good at disappearing. You’re good at leaving me hanging like none of it mattered.”

You weren’t yelling. You didn’t need to. Your disappointment was louder than any raised voice.

Jeno sat back in his chair, breathing shallow. “You kissed me back.”

Your throat tightened, “you didn’t kiss me at all.”

“Exactly,” he muttered. “Because I would’ve ruined it. Ruined you.”

You shook your head slowly. “No, Jeno. You didn’t kiss me because you’re scared of how much you want to.”

His hands balled into fists. “And you’re not?”

“We’re not talking about me.” You looked away.

He scoffed, turning to look at you fully, leaning in with his hand now resting on your thigh, burning the skin with his touch.

You couldn’t hear more, not when he was so close, not when he poured his heart out to you. Nothing about you two was normal, even your heartbeat was synced with how abnormally high they were.

“Shh,” you mumbled, covering his mouth with your palm, and even the rude gesture calmed him down—your touch calmed him down.

“You have an exam tomorrow.” You said and he stared, “study, pass the exam, and we’ll talk, yeah?”

“You—you promise?” He asked, gripping the extra sheets and notes you passed his way.

You nodded, eyes softer now. You didn’t wanna hurt Jeno, you could see just how hard he tried to fight with his demons, but this time, you wanted him to win.

“I’ll be waiting.”

You turned to leave then, leaving Jeno with his thoughts as he watched you leave, eyes on your legs. He gulped, looking back to the paper to find a line scribbled in your handwriting.

You already know the answer, you’re just afraid of getting it wrong.

It wasn’t about the question, it was about him.

Jeno couldn’t sleep at night,

I’ll be waiting.

That’s what you told him, and he was looking forward to it, because for the very first time in his life, someone wasn’t waiting for him to fail.

He woke up before his alarm had the chance to ring, didn’t care about his mother’s remark on how he woke up on time for once, or how Jaehyun gave him a long, unreadable look. Jeno didn’t react, he had bigger problems to tackle today.

You were just as restless as him if not more, checking your phone every few minutes as if you’d get any text from Jeno. He must be busy studying, you hope that was the case.

He walked into the exam hall calm, focused, terrified. He didn’t skip questions. He didn’t zone out.

He solved the final problem two minutes before time and rechecked every line like his life was hidden in the margins.

When he walked out of that room, his shirt clinging to the back of his neck from sweat, his palms aching from gripping the pen too hard—he knew. He’d done it. Or at least, he hoped he did.

Yet, he didn’t text you, he wouldn’t until he got the results.

Chapter 8: Jealousy is but a red thread around my throat.

You waited, not loud, but silently.

Two whole days, you held your breath, even planned on visiting the football practice to just get a glimpse of Jeno, yet you couldn’t muster enough courage to do so. God, you were so affected by everything he did, and this felt so very suffocating, waiting on someone. You knew what you felt, there was no point in denying it, however, you couldn’t figure out how it happened, so quickly at that.

Heck, even Jaemin was more present in your chat inbox, even though you never replied to him, it just made you wonder if your time with Jeno was just a hoax.

Did you imagine it all?

On the other hand, on the other side of the city, sitting in a dim room with sunlight pouring in, Jeno was drowning in darkness.

He gave up the wait, the result wasn’t out the whole day. It was three in the morning when the notification woke him up like a jolt.

Results were out.

He rushed to check it, the numbers stunning him as his jaw hung open.

83%

Not perfect. But more than enough.

Enough to pass. Enough to stay on the team.

Enough to say, Look. I did it. I’m not a fuck-up. The first thing he thought of was you. So he typed—just two words.

Jeno: I passed.

Your reply came back six minutes later.

You: I knew you would.

It was soft, gentle. But was it enough for Jeno? No. It should’ve been enough, but it wasn’t.

He didn’t reply, he didn’t text you again. He opted to skip the lectures for the day and stay in his room, blinds closed, only darkness consuming him.

You knew it was hard for Jeno, you knew you shouldn’t wait for his reply or him approaching you—he was too scared to do that, which is exactly why you grabbed your bag and went to his place the first thing in the morning. Maybe Jeno needed time, but you had to check.

You rang the bell, your heart pounding as you did so, expecting Jeno to open up and see you. Once the door opened, your pulse stuttered.

Jaehyun.

Of course, it had to be him.

“Y/N,” he said your name smoothly, “didn’t know you were coming by.”

You hesitated with a small chuckle, exhaling the breath you were holding, “is Jeno home?”

He nodded, stepping aside to let you in, “yeah, he’s in his room, didn’t come out this morning at all.”

“Oh,” you said softly, wondering if he was alright.

There was a pause, an awkward silence after that, you felt heavy, wanting to go upstairs but you weren’t sure if you were allowed to.

You gulped, chest tightened at the revelation.

“I came to check up on him, I’m not sure if he wants to meet though.”

“He’d want to see you.” Jaehyun said, smiling sincerely, “you’re good for him.”

Your eyes widened at that, “I’m not sure he thinks that.” You tried to smile, “can I go to his room?”

“He locked the door, I think he’s sleeping,” Jaehyun said apologetically.

“I don’t wanna bother him.” You smiled sadly, “those are good pictures,” you mumbled, looking at the wall full of frames, particularly the ones with Jeno in them.

“Yeah, I took most of those,” Jaehyun replied with another smile, he knew you wanted to talk to Jeno so he suggested something, “Maybe if you take him something to eat? I can give the breakfast he skipped—”

“Oh no, I can run to the bakery and get something—”

Then you noticed a movement in your peripheral vision, you turned around to find Jeno. He was standing down the hall, his fluffy hair a mess, eyes wide as if he didn’t expect you to be here—especially with Jaehyun.

“Hey,” you breathed out.

No reply.

“Y—you didn’t reply, I came to see you,” you tried speaking again.

Jaehyun left the room, letting you two be alone.

“Why didn’t you ask for me?” He whispered, just sadness in his voice.

“I did, that’s what I came for,” you tried to explain.

Jeno stared at you, he was so broken inside he couldn’t let himself believe it. You dressed up, all pretty, your eyes so soft, your lips turning into a pout of disappointment. You looked perfect, and you came here for Jeno? He just could not believe it.

“You were talking to him,” Jeno said, referring to Jaehyun, his voice broken.

“He opened the door, what can I do?” You shook your head, trying to explain, “you didn’t even text back, Jeno.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he replied, “I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had someone wait for me and mean it.”

Your lips parted to reply but he wasn’t done.

“You said you’d talk to me after the exam,” he went on, voice sharper now, “but when you showed up, you let him open the door. You let him tell you how I was.”

“I didn’t—” your voice faltered, “I didn’t come for him.”

“Didn’t look that way.”

That hurt. You flinched. “Jeno, why are you doing this?”

“Because I waited for you,” he snapped. “I sat in that room like a fucking idiot thinking you’d come to see me. Not make small talk with my brother or compliment his photography.”

“You heard that?” You froze, it wasn’t your intention to do any of that.

“I heard everything, every second you spent without taking my name,” he said.

Just like that—he hurt you. Every conversation was about Jeno, every single one. He just couldn’t see it.

“I thought I was getting better,” he admitted, quieter now. “I thought passing the exam would mean something. That it would be enough.”

“It was,” you whispered. “Jeno, it is. I am proud of you.”

“Then why didn’t it feel like it?” His voice broke on that line. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing a step away, then back, like his own body was a prison.

You stood frozen. Every word hit somewhere different.

“I wanted you to come,” he said, softer now. “Not to check in. Not to ask if I’d eaten. I wanted you to come for me. Just for me. You don’t get it, Y/N.”

“No,” you stepped forward. “You don’t get it. You think everything is about being chosen or abandoned. But not everyone’s trying to leave you, Jeno. Sometimes people show up. But you keep slamming the door in their face.”

He turned away. “Then go.”

“I came for you.” You said one last time, your eyes watering, not being able to contain the hurt you held in them.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have.”

That one landed like a punch.

Your mouth opened. Then closed. You nodded. Just once.

“Fine.”

You turned.

And you left.

And this time, he didn’t stop you.

Chapter 9: I know that I’m hard to read, but you got me here to stay

Jeno, on the other hand, left his room as soon as he realized how wrong everything had gone. All afternoon his own words replayed in his mind, how he asked you to leave and how you left a single tear drop on the floor before you turned around and left.

Maybe you shouldn’t have.

And he let you go anyway. Because that’s what he did. Because pushing people away was easier than asking them to stay.

Until now.

His chest felt tight, his limbs tense. He couldn’t stay here, not in this house, not knowing you might never come back.

He had to find you.

“Fucking hell, Lee Jeno, you look like shit.” He grinned.

Jeno didn’t answer, he was in a hurry, he had to find you, to make things right with you, he was about to push past Minjae when—

“Oh, by the way,” he smirked, “Jaemin told us a lot about how you finally landed his ex, the pretty goody two shoes, Y/N.”

Jeno froze, jaw clenched at the mention of you and Jaemin in the same sentence, coming from an asshole at that.

“Didn’t think you’d have a go at someone like her. She seems to like guys who have more brains than biceps.” He laughed at his own joke.

“The fuck did you just say?”

Jeno’s vision turned black.

“Say that again,” he said, voice like static.

Minjae raised his hands. “Relax. You don’t need to get all—”

The punch landed before he could finish.

Minjae hit the ground hard, water splashing up from the impact, the rain pouring down heavier now. He tried to shove Jeno back, but to no avail as he bent down, his fist colliding with Minjae’s jaw again.

Jeno wasn’t fighting Minjae per se, he was fighting every single voice that told him he wasn’t enough, that he could never live up to his brother, that he could never be with someone as perfect as you. That’s what he believed too, till you actually became real for him.

His mind was elsewhere when he took a blow to his jaw, lip bleeding now, Jeno stumbled but scoffed before punching him again, and again, till his knuckles were shredded, a throbbing in his jaw which almost felt like fire.

It was only when someone pulled him off of Minjae, Jeno stopped, spitting out blood in the rain slick grass. Everything hurt, but not as much as his burning chest.

“Are you insane?” Someone yelled his way, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jeno didn’t bother answering, pulling out his phone and rushing away, typing out texts to you.

Jeno: where are you? please say something i’m so fucking sorry Y/N i didn’t mean it i didn’t mean any of it i swear Y/N please

No response. His messages were just there, unread, and unanswered. He simply didn’t know why.

You kept thinking about Jeno, about the fight at his place earlier, how he asked you to leave with the saddest look in his eyes, and how badly it hurt you. You were out of the shower in fifteen minutes, toweling your hair with one hand and rushing to check your phone with the other, not expecting a myriad of notifications.

17 Missed calls.

6 Voicemails.

26 Unread texts.

The last of which made your blood run cold.

Jeno: Y/N please i’m outside

“Jeno,” you gasped out loud, “w—what happened?” You said, going close to him.

“I tried to find you,” he said, voice wrecked, “I tried but I couldn’t, I thought that maybe you blocked me.”

“No—I was in a meeting and my phone died, god I’m so sorry—fuck, come inside.” You shook your head in distress.

“Y/N,” he groaned, and you gently helped him when he didn’t move, like he wasn’t allowed to, “I fucked up.”

You didn’t ask how this happened to him, only guiding him to the bathroom, “you’re soaked and bleeding, take a shower, i’ll put your clothes in the wash and dryer.”

He opened his mouth to say otherwise, but you didn’t let him, grabbing a fresh towel and handing it to him.

“Are you sure you want me here?” He asked, vulnerable.

“I wouldn’t have opened the door otherwise, Jeno, I do.”

You were glad Jeno was taking his sweet time inside, because you had no clue how to go on with this situation. Jeno stalling coming out simply because he was ashamed, also consumed in how good your shampoo smells. He was at your place, in your bathroom, all bloodied up, why? Because he couldn’t be normal for once and let you in.

His walls came crashing down each time you came closer to him, but this time, he didn’t want them to go back up the second he touched you, this time, he wanted you inside with him.

Then Jeno opened the door, you stood up at the noise, and he looked your way in a silent plea to ask you if he could sit next to you, and you nodded. He held up the bloodied towel, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and you smiled softly, taking it away from him.

“Y/N,” he took your name as if it was the only thing he knew.

“Sorry,” you breathed out.

“I deserve worse,” he breathed back.

“No, you don’t,” you said, looking up at him.

He laughed under his breath, “why are you so kind to me? I don’t deserve it, Y/N.”

“You don’t get to decide what I give you, Jeno,” you replied, “you’re bleeding, again.”

“Not my first time.”

You gripped him tighter, “and that’s supposed to make it better?”

“No,” he said, voice low, “just means I’m good at it by now.”

You didn’t answer. Just ripped the antiseptic packet open a little more forcefully than necessary and pressed it to the bruised line of his knuckles. He flinched.

“Good,” you muttered. “Means you still feel something.”

“God, Y/N—”

“No,” you snapped, trying your best to act normal but you both were far from that, “not yet.”

You cleaned the split in his skin with the kind of precision that only comes from anger—controlled, careful, but deeply furious.

His jaw clenched. “I didn’t come for a reward.”

“Good,” you said coldly. “Because you’re not getting one.” You wrapped gauze around his hand slowly, tight enough that it would sting.

He didn’t pull away.

“I came because I thought I’d lose you,” he said through his teeth, “I came because I’m fucking terrified that I already did.”

“Who’s fault is that?” You said, standing up, “you keep doing this thing, you pull me in, let me see you and then the very second it gets real, you shut the door in my face.”

“You told me to go!”

“I didn’t mean it!”

“Then don’t say it!” You shouted, “don’t look at me like I’m everything one second and then act like I mean nothing the next!”

“I didn’t think you’d stay.”

“I stayed!”

You were both breathing hard now. Staring at each other like you didn’t know whether to cry or kiss or throw something, You still stood in between Jeno’s legs, him looking up at you. Jeno ran a hand through his damp hair, pacing a few feet before turning back to you, eyes wide and glassy.

“I ruin things,” he said, “I always have. I don’t know how to love something without fucking it up. But I wanted you anyway—I still do.”

Your throat tightened. “And I’m supposed to what? Carry all of that? Be your exception?”

“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I just need you to see that I’m trying. Even if it’s ugly. Even if I’m bleeding and loud and afraid. I need you to see me, and stay anyway.”

You stared at him.

He looked like someone who hadn’t slept in days. Someone who’d gone through hell and walked straight into another fire because you were at the center of it.

Your voice cracked, “you don’t make it easy.”

“I know.”

“I hate that I hurt you,” he whispered. “But I’d rather burn with you than freeze without you.”

“I wasn’t gonna leave, Jeno.”

“I know.”

“Then why—”

Your breath hitched. You grabbed the gauze, wrapped it around his hand. Tighter than needed.

“Then be more, Jeno.”

He stared at you.

“Be more,” you repeated, “because I’m tired of being in love with someone who’s so determined to hate himself.”

That silenced him. Fully. Until he spoke again.

“You’re in love with me?”

The words dropped like a bomb between you.

You froze. Swallowed. Refused to take it back, chuckling to yourself at how easily you let go and told him that, “yeah—god help me, I am.”

Then you tried to move back, only his arms wrapped around your waist tighter, holding you in place, “you don’t get to say that and walk away.” He growled.

“Who said I’m walking away?” You mumbled, holding onto his shoulder for support.

It was unreal, how close you guys were but still not close enough, it was never enough.

“You’re mad at me,” Jeno stated.

“I should be mad.”

“I’m mad too,” he added.

“Good,” you rolled your eyes, trying to move again.

But he didn’t let you, not this time, his thumb brushing your cheek.

That was it. That was when Jeno finally let go. He couldn’t delay this anymore, not again, not when you were right in front of him, not when your soft lips brushed so tenderly against his bruised ones, not when you told him you were in love with him—not when he knew he had to have you.

You gasped, arms flying up to clutch at his shoulders, pressed chest-to-chest, his body was warm—too warm—and you could feel his tension in every line.

You broke the kiss first, panting, eyes wide. “You shouldn’t—” you tried to say, especially when his body was hurting.

“I have to,” he breathed, leaning in again. “Let me, just once. Please.”

You didn’t stop him, grabbing his nape and pulling him into you once again, because when Jeno kissed you again, it felt like pain, penance, and pleasure all in one. It was as if he was trying to earn your forgiveness with his mouth, trying to pour out everything he couldn’t say to you, groaning into your mouth when your hips shifted over his lap.

“I fucking—” He said midway the kiss, “god I—”

You shushed him gently, “you don’t have to say it.”

Before he could ruin the moment with the spiral in his throat, before he could pull back in fear, you pressed your lips against his like it was the only thing anchoring you to the earth.

His mouth was swollen. Your lips, bruised from how much he kissed you like he didn’t know how to stop.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed.

You stared at him. “I don’t want you to.”

Then you grabbed his jaw once you heard him wince, “does it hurt?” You asked, pecking his jaw, trailing kisses all over.

“It’s the only thing that doesn’t hurt,” he whispered, letting your lips take over, tracing every bit of his face and neck, his eyes closing with the fire that you ignited within him.

“This feels like a dream,” he whispered.

“It’s not.”

“But it could be,” he added, almost to himself. “You—like this, in my lap, in your apartment, touching me like I’m not a monster.”

You cupped his face again, guiding his eyes to yours, “you’re not a monster, Jeno.”

“You don’t know the things I’ve thought.”

“Then tell me.”

His voice cracked, “I thought I’d die if I didn’t see you again. I thought that maybe I’m already ruined and maybe I don’t deserve you but I can’t stop loving you anyway. I thought—”

You kissed him again. Slow this time. Deep and aching, “then stop thinking,” you whispered, “just be here—with me.”

His fingers trembled as they curled into the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?”

You nodded.

He pulled the fabric up carefully, reverently, and you helped him, raising your arms until it was off. His breath hitched. Not because of how you looked—but because he was looking at you like that.

Like something sacred.

You grabbed the back of his hoodie, tugging. He hesitated for a split second before pulling it over his head. The sight made your breath catch.

His torso was littered with bruises, some dark purple, some fading yellow. His ribcage dipped where the muscle was taut with tension. You reached out, fingertips grazing over a particularly harsh mark near his side.

He flinched. “That one’s from earlier.”

Your jaw clenched, “you shouldn’t fight because of me.”

“I wasn’t,” he said, “I was fighting every voice in my head that said I wasn’t worth your love.”

You kissed the bruise.

He gasped.

“I hate that they ever made you feel like that.”

His hands slid back up to your sides, lips brushing your jaw. “You make it go quiet.”

“I want to,” you whispered.

“Fuck, Y/N—”

“Jeno,” you murmured, your nails dragging softly along his back, “look at me.”

He lifted his head. His eyes—wild, glassy, full of everything he couldn’t say.

“I love you,” you said again. “I’m not afraid of it. So don’t be either.”

He leaned forward, pressing your foreheads together.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.”

Jeno wasn’t gentle anymore, not when he’d been craving your presence, craving you. He couldn’t help but treat you like a reward, like he finally had won the only thing in life that actually mattered to him.

“Jeno—” you mumbled, your back arching as you felt his body pressing into you, fingers wrapped around his wet locks as he marked your skin with every ounce of desperation he had, his fingers mapping out every inch of your body as if he’s afraid he’d forget it—as if he could ever forget anything about you.

The warmth of his hands brushed over your bra clad nipples, a whimper leaving your mouth. Jeno wasn’t undressed yet you could feel him getting hard, and god you wondered just how big he was, grinding into you as if he was already inside your cunt.

“I hurt you so fucking much,” Jeno mumbled, lips ghosting over your tit, “now I’ll hurt you in the way you want me to,” he said with dark eyes, yanking your bra down enough for your nipples to show, latching his mouth to you all in light speed.

All his life Jeno couldn’t take control of anything, but seeing you shiver under him just made sense to Jeno, he had to take control—he had to make you feel so good, you wouldn’t ever look at anyone else.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you whispered, already disheveled with how needy you were, wetness pooling in your panties, soiling the new pair you had put on not too long ago.

“Yeah? You drive me crazy, baby,” he chuckled, and that sound went straight to your pussy. Jeno was hot, so fucking hot, but him using nicknames on you with his deep tone—only god knows how you would survive this.

You bit your lip to conceal your moans, which only infuriated Jeno, biting your nipple harshly to make sure you scream, “don’t fucking hide your pretty voice,” he said.

Lost in the haze of pleasure, you surrender yourself completely to Jeno’s possessive touches, letting him have his way with you. The room fills with the sounds of your moans and his desperate sucking, a symphony of carnal desire. In this moment, there is nothing but you and Jeno, and the burning hunger that consumes you both.

Jeno’s hands roam across your body, his touch electric against your skin. He grabs your hips, pulling you flush against him as he claims your lips in yet another searing kiss, tongue delving into your mouth, hot and hungry, making you more hungry for his touch—for him.

“I—can’t,” you whimpered, wanting more of him.

Jeno chuckled, “can’t even speak now, hm? What happened to the feisty lil’ girl who couldn’t shut up?”

You were too gone to function anymore and you had just started, but you knew one thing—whatever Jeno wanted, you’d let him do it to you.

You breathed harder once he reached the waistband of your shorts, his hooded eyes, almost drunk, looking up at you before he swiftly pulled them down, throwing them on the floor somewhere.

He slid your panties to the side, and the sight he had in front of him drove him to the edge. Jeno was an impatient man, yes, he was messy, he was not the softest, but seeing you like this just made him realize how much crazier he could be.

That first taste emboldens him and he dives in like a man starved, lapping at your folds like he’s trying to consume you entirely.

Jeno zeroes in on your clit, flicking and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves rapidly. Your back arches off the couch as he suckles hard on the throbbing bud, two fingers pumping inside your clenching hole.

“Fuck—Jeno, I’m gonna cum!” You wail, thighs trembling violently around his head as your climax approaches rapidly. He doubles his efforts, fucking you harder with his fingers and lashing your clit mercilessly with his tongue.

Jeno chuckled, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. “You like that, baby?” He practically purred, before sucking your clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

“Fuck—yes,” you gasped, your head falling back against the couch. Jeno was relentless, his tongue exploring every inch of you, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your thighs trembling as you stared at the ceiling with your mouth open, desperate for air.

Jeno pulled back for a moment, looking up at you with a wicked grin, “you want more, kitten?” He teased, running a finger along your slit, “go on then, beg for it.”

You groaned in frustration, but you were too far gone to care, “please, Jeno,” you begged, fueling his ego.

He stopped.

You let out a frustrated groan and Jeno only got up with the essence of you sprawled over his chin, his hard on begging to be freed.

“Fuck?” You asked, trying to get up on your elbows, looking at him incredulously.

He was proud of himself for making you this weak, for cracking your high wall down so he could see you, so he could ruin you. Jeno was possessive, especially after knowing what you and Jaemin went through, he wanted you to have the best, and he was willing to be the best for you.

“I—I was gonna cum!” You said, holding on to him for support.

“Did I say you could?” He replied smoothly.

“What—Jeno what the fuck?” You whined and he only chuckled.

“Be patient, love, or else you won’t be coming all fucking night, yeah?” He said as he let you get down on the bed.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, thumb pushing on your lower lip.

“Nothing.” You mumbled.

Your jaw clenched as you slide your hand up Jeno’s torso, tracing all the way from his abs to his neck, his own body reacting to your touch, cock twitching inside his pants by the time your hand rested on his nape, pulling him even closer so your noses were touching.

“You know, Jeno, you talk big game. Don’t make promises you can’t back up,” you mumbled to rile him up.

Jeno’s eyes flashed with a mixture of lust and irritation at your challenge, “oh, you’re going to regret those words,” he whispered, his hands gripping your hips possessively. “I’m going to make you beg for my cock, baby.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he panted, his thumb rubbing firm circles on your clit. “I can’t wait to feel this perfect little cunt wrapped around my cock.”

You moaned, your hips rolling to meet his hand as he fucked you with his fingers. “Then stop talking and do something about it,” you shot back, your voice breathy with desire.

Jeno chuckled darkly, withdrawing his fingers only to bring them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, his eyes never leaving yours as he savored your taste. “Mmh—delicious,” he purred, “but I’m not done playing with you yet.”

He worked you over mercilessly, his tongue and lips and teeth finding all the right spots to drive you wild. You bucked against his face, your thighs trembling as the pleasure built inside you. Just when you thought you might burst, Jeno would back off, leaving you desperate and aching for release.

“Jeno, please,” you whimpered, tugging on his hair in a futile attempt to guide him back to where you needed him most, “I need to cum. Please let me cum.”

“I fucking can’t!” You breathed out, trying to control your moans again, “someone’s gonna hear and—ah—complain about it,” you said, which only made him scoff.

You squirmed beneath Jeno, feeling utterly at his mercy as he continued his torturous teasing. The gag in your mouth muffled your moans but couldn’t silence them completely, much to Jeno’s enjoyment. Your body arched, yearning for more, desperate for release.

“Such a needy lil’ thing, aren’t you?” Jeno growled, his fingers still circling your sensitive bud, “I can feel how wet you are, taste how wet you are, dripping for me, hm?”

“Hm—so responsive,” Jeno purred, looking pleased with himself, “I could do this all night—keep you on the edge, begging so desperately for me.”

“Please—” you tried to say around the gag, your eyes pleading, you were so close, teetering on the brink of an explosive climax. Just a little more.

But Jeno seemed determined to deny you that satisfaction, easing off right as you were about to fall over into your state of euphoria, frustration bubbled up inside you, mingling with the overwhelming lust coursing through your veins.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, baby,” Jeno taunted, nipping at your inner thigh, “I want to hear you scream my name—let everyone know who you belong to.”

His fingers circled, feather-light touches that drove you wild with need. You thrashed beneath him, incoherent noises of desperation spilling from your lips. Jeno just chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying your plight, removing your gag to hear you gasp loudly, his name on the tip of your tongue.

Jeno was cruel, so cruel the way he denied your orgasm yet again with a smirk playing on his face, a whole one eighty from how he was an hour back and you were crying by now, something he seemed to enjoy too as he licked your face, tasting the salty teardrop you let out, “this makes me wanna ruin you more, y’know?”

“Fuck—Jeno, let me cum please,” you sobbed as he took you in his arms.

Jeno’s cock was throbbing, hard and ready to burst, as you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip in a teasing manner. You could taste the salty beads of precum leaking from his slit, the flavor sending a jolt of desire straight to your core.

“Fuck—baby,” Jeno groaned, his fingers threading through your hair as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper into your throat. “Your mouth feels so good. Keep going just like that, good girl.”

“Shit—fuck, take it easy, I won’t be able to hold back," he panted, his grip on your hair tightening, “I’m gonna fucking come down your throat if you keep sucking me like that.”

Jeno’s eyes jolted open, a mix of confusion and frustration flashing across his face. “What the fuck, baby? Why the fuck did you stop?”

You just smiled coyly up at him, licking your lips. “Because I want you to come inside me. I want to feel you fill me up with your hot cum, or are you too much of a coward to fuck me?” You teased, your grin making him scoff.

God he loved you.

Jeno growled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. In a flash, he grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your side, your back pressed firmly against his torso.

Before you could even process the sudden change in position, he was lined up at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your slick folds.

“Teasing me will only get you punished,” he warned, his voice low and husky with desire. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

With that promise, he slammed into you, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, your back arching as he filled you completely. Jeno set a brutal pace, pounding into you with wild abandon.

You let out a sharp cry as Jeno’s thick cock stretched you open, filling you so deeply that you could feel him bulging through your lower abdomen. The feeling of his hard length pulsing inside you sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you arch your back and press your ass against him.

“Lord—ah yes,” you gasped, grinding against him, “you’re—so fucking big.”

Jeno grunted in response, his fingers digging into your hips as he continued to pound into you at a furious pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin and your needy moans filled the room, mixing with the creaking of the bed frame beneath you.

“Shit, your cunt is so tight,” Jeno mumbled, his breath hot against your neck. “Squeezing my cock like a desperate doll—you were made for me, baby. Made to take my dick and milk me dry.”

“Please don’t stop, not this time,” you pleaded, your nails digging into his thighs. “Fuck me harder, Jeno. I’m so fucking close.”

Jeno snarled, his hips snapping forward with a newfound vigor. One hand moved around to rub firm circles around your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body began to tremble, your breath coming out in short gasps as you found yourself on the brink of ecstasy.

“Cum for me,” Jeno demanded, pinching your clit hard, “I want to feel you cum all over my dick, baby.”

You were squirting all over his cock.

Jeno followed shortly after, his cock pulsing as he spilled his release deep inside you, as he breathed hard, watching you with surprised eyes.

“Fuck,” he groaned, grinding against you to prolong your shared climax, “you’re so fucking hot, so fucking mine.”

You whimpered at the feeling of his hot cum painting your walls, the sensation making your pussy flutter around his shaft. Jeno held you close as you both rode out the aftershocks, his softening cock still buried inside you.

“You’re mine,” he mumbled, “say it.”

“Yours—I’m yours,” you breathed as best as you could.

“Again.”

��I’m yours, Jeno.”

“Fuck—again.”

“So so fucking yours, I’m all yours Jeno.”

“Mine,” he whispered, so possessive.

After a few moments, Jeno carefully pulled out and rolled you onto your back. He pressed gentle kisses along your jawline and down your neck, his touch soothing and tender in contrast to the rough passion from moments before.

“That was intense,” he murmured, nuzzling against your collarbone, “I don’t think i’ll ever get enough of you, baby. You’re fucking addictive.”

You smiled up at him, reaching up to cup his face. "I could say the same about you. The way you fuck me, it’s like you’re a fucking beast.”

“Was I too harsh?” He asked, placing soft kisses all over, “I’m sorry I just lost control—you have no idea how badly I need you, I don’t think I can stop,” he confessed.

You kissed him again, “then don’t stop, just don’t.”

That’s all he needed to hear for the night, that you were finally his, and he was yours. He smirked, the night was just getting started.

Chapter 10: Hate me less? You love me more.

You don’t remember how the night ended, not when Jeno kept his promise of how you wouldn’t be able to walk anymore once he was done with you, and he was precise about it. He was far from done when he made you fall apart on his cock so many times, you lost count.

Turns out, Jeno can be super clingy when he has to be, also not letting you go once you get out of the tub, helping you dry your hair, helping you moisturize your body, helping you smile by kissing you every few seconds.

He held you to sleep, not before hearing you say you actually want him and it’s not a dream. Jeno doesn’t remember if he ever felt this way before, this warmth called happiness that you provided him so easily.

It was perhaps the best day of Jeno’s life.

The air felt different today.

Not because of the weather, which was finally warm and breezy after days of storm and stress, but because Jeno was walking beside you—not behind, not ahead—beside you. His fingers were laced with yours, his thumb brushing over your skin every few steps like he was still checking if this was real, he still couldn’t believe it.

It was.

You passed the main quad slowly, in no rush. The two of you didn’t need to say much. Conversations dimmed as you walked through. You could feel the glances, the whispers.

Someone definitely said your name. Then his.

And then, clear as day, they whispered.

“Wait—are they actually holding hands?”

Jeno didn’t flinch.

You chuckled. “Think they’re combusting?”

“Oh, definitely,” he said, tugging you closer with a smugness he barely bothered to hide anymore. “Especially that one girl who’s walking with me, who swore she’d never even look at me.”

“She wasn’t entirely wrong,” you teased. “You were kind of a menace.”

He groaned, tossing his head back, “were?”

You laughed, and it made him smile, soft and full, the kind of smile he used to hide and now gave you freely.

“You’re doing that look again,” he said, side-eyeing you. “Like you’re psychoanalyzing me.”

“Maybe I am. Can’t help it. You’re a walking dissertation, y’know?”

“Yeah? What’s the title?”

You looked up at him with a shrug. “How to fall for someone you’re supposed to hate.”

That made him stop walking.

“I’m glad you did,” he said. “Fall for me. Even when I made it so damn hard.”

You smiled slowly, the kind of smile that made his breath catch. “You still do.”

“Yeah, well,” he squeezed your hand, “at least I’m hot.”

You were too busy rolling your eyes to realize you’d just walked past Jaemin and his friends until the entire bench went awkwardly quiet. Jaemin looked up, eyes flicking from your joined hands to your face, and then to Jeno—who didn’t even spare him a glance.

He was too focused on you. Too content stealing a bite of your ice cream like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Let’s go,” you muttered, trying not to laugh as you nudged him forward.

Jeno followed. No hesitation.

Because this, the hand holding, the quiet teasing, the stares that didn’t matter anymore, this was normal.

And for the first time in his life, Jeno finally understood: Normal didn’t mean boring.

It meant chosen. It meant enough.

It meant being yours.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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#fic : call me when you hate me less #nct #nct dream #nct smut #nct dream smut #jeno smut #lee jeno #jeno x reader #nct scenarios #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #smut #kpop smut #jeno x you #lee jeno smut #nct dream x reader #nct fanfic

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vinnyvamppp · 3 months ago

Note

hmmm okay. for ur consideration… fem!reader x atom eve. maybe reader making a move during those 5 years where mark travelled back in time when nobody thought he was gonna come back? or maybe something set in season 2 when eve is trying to get over mark? anything works, i’ve just been considering the concept for a while.

Atomic Heart

Note: I would've done season two, but there's not enough drama for me, so we went with the former. Also, if this story seems familiar, it's because it is. It's been repackaged and repurposed bc we can't have nice things.

Warnings: Smut, Pussy Eating, Fingering, Tribbing, Improper Use of Powers, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Power Play & Restraints (Consentual), Mentions of Invincible, Mutual Pining & Emotional Angst, Alien Technology, Porn w a Plot, etc.

Synopsis: With Mark gone for five years, and Eve's lips ghosting promises against your skin, you realize... it was time to take his place.

Atom Eve/Samantha Eve Wilkins x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,555 (I LOVE HER)

Mark left.

At first, it was just a mission. Then, it became a choice. And after five long years, it felt like a ghost story—whispers of a man who had once been here, who had once held her, who had once promised he would always return.

But he didn’t.

And you had to watch Eve bear the weight of that absence alone. She had been so hopeful at first. So certain that he would come back before she even began to show. But the weeks stretched into months, and soon, that hope had nowhere left to go—so it settled in her hands, in her breath, in the quiet way she held herself together.

And then, there was the baby.

You never meant to love her. Or maybe you did. Maybe it was impossible not to. Maybe it started the first time Eve took your hand and pressed it against her belly, laughing softly as the child stirred beneath your palm. Maybe it was in the way she’d look at you when she was too exhausted to stand, silently trusting you to be the one to hold her steady. Maybe it was in every midnight conversation, every fleeting moment where she let herself lean against you, warmth sinking into warmth, two people filling the spaces Mark left behind.

Maybe love had never been a decision at all. Maybe it had always been inevitable.

When Mark finally returned, standing there with his wide, hopeful eyes, expecting to pick up where he left off— Eve didn’t run to him. She just sat there, arms folded over her chest, a fortress of quiet resentment and exhaustion. And when she finally spoke, her voice wasn’t angry. It was just tired. “I thought you were dead. Welcome home, Mark. I’m glad you’re alive, but… I don’t want to see you again. We’re through.” And when Mark flinched—when he realized, too late, what he had done— you gazed with pity from afar as tears pearled against his waterline. Eve simply watched, having already grieved their lost love.

You weren’t sure if it was anger or protectiveness that burned in your chest. It didn’t matter because you had already chosen your side.

The first time you met Samantha Eve Wilkins, she was floating midair, casually reconstructing a crumbling building with nothing but a flick of her wrist and a furrow of concentration. The second time? She was gritting through an awkward explanation about why she’d recreated alien bondage tech.

“I—okay, so—hear me out.” Eve held up her hands defensively, hovering over her workbench where the sleek golden cuffs rested. “It’s not like I meant to make them for, you know, that.” Her voice wavered slightly on the last word, and you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

“Uh-huh,” you drawled, pretending to ignore the way her pink energy flickered anxiously around her hands. “So, you accidentally reverse-engineered Flaxan tech that forces two people to move in perfect sync?”

Eve bit her lip, eyes rolling within their sockets. “Well, yeah, technically. I mean, I saw them years ago during the invasion, and I thought, wow, that’s an insanely advanced neural-link system, and then I just… y’know, figured it out.” She was talking fast now, rambling through it like it was basic knowledge. “And then I may have tested them, maybe realized they could be used for, um… more personal applications, and now I can’t turn them off without—”

Your heart skipped. “Without what?” Her pink energy flared, and she let out a tiny, guilty laugh. “…Without you helping me.” You blinked. “Helping you how, exactly?” Eve winced, tapping the metal cuff. “Soooo, funny thing,” she started. “The cuffs are already linked. To me.” There was a beat of silence before a strange warmth bloomed over your skin—a slow, pulling sensation in your chest, like gravity had shifted just slightly.

Eve sucked in a breath at the same time you did. “Oh,” she whispered. Your fingers twitched. So did hers. “…Eve.” Your voice came out slower, weighted, as your limbs suddenly moved in tandem with hers—so naturally, so fluidly, that it was unsettling. “What exactly did you do?”

Her pink energy crackled around her fingertips as she attempted to shift back, only for your own body to mimic her perfectly. Her breath hitched when you both stumbled forward at the same time, chest-to-chest now, your movements completely bound to hers.

She groaned. “Okay, fine. Maybe I got a little carried away. But it’s still Mark’s fault because if he hadn’t just abandoned me for half a decade, I wouldn’t have thrown myself into stupid projects like this just to stop thinking about him.”

You felt it then—that flicker of resentment, buried under layers of frustration and exhaustion. Because Mark didn’t just leave her; he left their daughter. And now that he was back? She didn’t know if she could ever forgive him. Your chest tightened. Eve had always been strong, stubborn, and selfless. But this? This wasn’t just about Mark. This was about her. About everything she’d sacrificed, about how much she deserved to be wanted, to be chosen.

You exhaled sharply. Her head tilted, puffy lips stretching into a smile. “...It sounds really bad when you stare like that,” she muttered. You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. Of course, Atom Eve—the literal genius with the power to reshape reality—would get herself into this mess.

But, as you both shifted in place, feeling every tiny movement in perfect sync, a warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with the cuffs. Eve was watching you now, hazel eyes soft, smile growing. “Guess we should figure out how to undo this before we spend the rest of our lives moving in sync.”

You let out a laugh. “Oh? You don’t want to be stuck with me forever?” Eve hesitated. Her gaze flicked to yours—and for the briefest second, she didn’t look like she minded at all. Then, quick as a spark, she cleared her throat, masking her flustered expression behind a teasing smirk. “I mean,” she mused, “if I had to be stuck with someone, at least you’re cute.”

She surges forward, gripping the front of your shirt as her lips crash against yours. It’s desperate, claiming five years of longing condensed into a single moment. She pours all of it into you—the anger, the loneliness, the quiet ache of missing something she never should have had to miss.

You gasp, caught off guard but not unwilling, never unwilling. You part your lips, exhaling softly against her, letting yourself melt into the heat of her body, the strength of her presence. Your hands move instinctively to her waist, gripping her like you’re afraid she might disappear—as if you don’t realize she’s the one who’s been afraid all this time.

Eve tightens her hold on you, lips parting just slightly, just enough to steal another breath from you, another piece of you. “I could hold you like this forever. Don’t tempt me.” She teased, her warmth spreading throughout like a river. “You talk a big game, Wilkins. Let’s see if you can back it up.” You reply, watching her hands move to your clothing, slow and deliberate. A warm pink glow pulses at her fingertips, and before you can react, the fabric dissolves—thread by thread unraveling into nothing. A teasing reminder of her control—of the night's possibilities.

A slow heat spreads through your skin as the devices hum to life, a gentle caress disguised as technology. Eve guides you to the bed, her hands firm but patient as she presses you down. She was gorgeous, hair splayed across her shoulders as she peered through lidded eyes. She leans in, voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re mine tonight. Every breath, every shiver—it’s all for me.” She murmured, her fingertips skimming your skin, tracing slow patterns, savoring every inch of contact. You can feel it in the way she touches you—the ownership, the reverence, the want. “I love it when you act smug.” Your voice is rough with anticipation as you grow restless.

"Mm," she groans, amusement flickering in her eyes. Every little movement, every tiny reaction—there’s no hiding from her, from either of you. A mutual blush creeps up your necks, but Eve only smiles wider, proud and pleased. The space grows suffocating as her lips trail down your neck, her tongue tracing patterns over your collarbone. Impatience gnaws at your bones. Every second stretches unbearably long.

Your hands move abruptly, flipping her onto the mattress as you settle between her thighs.

Squeezing the supple flesh, you feel the heat pooling between her legs, worsening with each passing moment. Lips ghost over her inner thigh, teasing, taunting—deliberately avoiding where she craves you most. A strangled sigh escapes her. Your tongue finally traces over her folds, fingers parting her deftly as you explore her warmth. A fire curls in her stomach, spreading outward, leaving her trembling beneath your touch. An arousal she hadn’t felt in a long time doused her body in a cold chill that hardened the soft peaks against her chest.

The sensation is overwhelming—every touch, every flick, every slow, torturous suck sends waves of pleasure through both of you. You feel a mirroring ache between your own thighs, as if you’re tasting yourself in her pleasure. Slowly, teasingly, your tongue drags from bottom to top. She tastes sweet and tangy, like honey and musk, and you can’t get enough. You circle her clit with the tip of your tongue, teasing the sensitive bud before dipping lower, dipping down to thrust into her tight cunt.

Her velvety ridges attempt to squeeze your fingers, each stroke leaving her walls fluttering and sucking you in for more. "You look a little flustered, Eve. Something on your mind?"

Eve moans softly, her fingers tangling in your hair as her hips rock against your face. You smile against her, the vibrations making her shudder. Your tongue moves in concert with your fingers, plunging deep while your lips suckle gently around her clit. A faint groan slips past your lips as she flexes her fingers, your hips to careen into the touch with a faint groan. You feel the way her body responds, her intoxicating juices soaking your chin, her thighs trembling against your ears. Your breath syncs with hers, building, climbing—both of you wound so tightly you can barely stand it. The silk sheets rustle beneath you, the sound mixing with breathy, desperate moans as you both struggle to stay quiet, to keep from waking Eve’s daughter.

"Don't stop," she whimpers, voice breaking, thighs clamping down as she teeters on the edge. "I’m gonna come—fuck, I’m gonna—"

You double your efforts, your tongue moving faster, your fingers curling inside her, stroking that perfect spot. She comes with a sharp gasp, body shuddering, hips bucking into your mouth as she rides out the waves of her orgasm. You don’t let up, lapping at her, drawing out every last aftershock until she’s a boneless, gasping mess beneath you.

"I hate how much I need you right now," she says through ragged breaths. "If I were you, I wouldn’t move. Unless you want me to make you." She continued, her hands already moving to reposition you. As much as you wished to argue, the thought was enticing. She had you beneath her, legs pushed up and spread wide as your knees met your shoulders. And like a sought puzzle, she squatted herself atop you, using your ankles as an anchor before her labia slotted against yours perfectly.

She grinds slowly at first, teasing herself, teasing you—hips rolling in hypnotic, measured strokes, building heat between you until it’s unbearable. It’s mind-numbing. Every brush of her clit against yours sends tingles racing down your spine, your skin burning where she touches. She leans forward, her breasts pressing against your chest, the frantic slip of her skin reddening your areolas from friction. Her breathing becomes ragged, matching the rhythm of her hips. She looks down at you, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and endearment. The sight of her, flushed and sweaty, her body glistening with effort, is maddening. You can feel her wetness coating you, the slickness making the movements smoother as she glides against you. She changes the angle slightly, her clit grinding away, rolling her hips just so— and your vision whites out. Every sensation—her warmth, her strength, the weight of her body pressed against your—became yours, looping back between you in an endless circuit of sensation. You could feel her stimulation too, the way it crackled through her nerves, feeding into your own until you didn’t know where you ended and she began. You feel her need as if it’s your own, the way she trembles, the way her body begs for more.

Suddenly, a bright pink light fills the room, blinding you momentarily. You blink rapidly, trying to adjust your vision as the light fades, revealing Eve's eyes glowing with the same pink hue. She doesn't pause her movements, her body continuing to rock against yours, but her hands move to her sides, and you hear a soft humming sound. As your vision clears, you see that her hands are crafting something in the air, the pink light coalescing into a solid form. She molds it with her fingers, shaping it into a double-sided dildo. The toy glows with an otherworldly energy, its surface shifting and changing as if it's alive. “I can feel you trembling. I like it.”

With an eager smirk, she reaches down, her hand still glowing with the pink light. She guides the toy between your legs, and you gasp as it slides inside you. The cool, smooth surface bulbs against your G-spot. She takes it in with a slow, shaky movement, her eyes watching as your limbs stiffen with a choked sob. The sight of her impaled on the same toy that's inside you is incredibly erotic. So much so that you became dizzy. She leaned down, your lips meeting gingerly as she mumbled weakly, her insides twitching as she pistoned her hips downwards.

Eve's movements become more urgent, her breath coming in short gasps. The dildo shifts inside you, the angles and pressures changing with every movement. The phantom touches start slow, featherlight strokes dragging over your skin, but then—then they grip, squeeze, pull. The feel is exhilarating as it traces over your features leaving your hairs standing on edge. You can feel her, through the toy, her muscles clenching and releasing in sync with yours. The room fills with the sound of your combined moans, the wet, slapping noise of your bodies meeting, and the soft hum of the glowing dildo.

The throbbing continues, her clit grinding against yours, the dildo filling you both. The dual stimulation grows too much, and the pleasure becomes almost unbearable. "Touch me. Please.” Her only plea snapped your attention into place. Reaching up, you rolled a nipple between your fingers, the pad of your thumb smoothing over the sensitive peak, watching as her eyes rolled into her skull. You can feel your orgasm building, the tension coiling in your belly, ready to snap. Eve senses it, her eyes screwing shut as she increases the pace, her hips moving faster.

As your orgasm hits, your body convulses, the waves of ecstasy crashing over you. Eve rides it out with you, her own body shaking as she reaches her climax. The dildo seems to pulse with your combined energy, the pink light flashing brightly before fading away. Eve collapses onto you, her body slick with sweat, the toy slowly dissolving in the air. The room is filled with the scent of sex and the sound of your combined breathing, slowly returning to normal.

She exhales, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder before settling beside you, her forehead resting against yours. There’s something vulnerable in the way she looks at you now, something unguarded like she’s finally allowing herself to want this—to want you. "I didn’t think I could have this again," she admits softly, almost to herself.

You reach for her hand, fingers threading together as you squeeze gently. "You never lost it." Her lips part, as if she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. Not when you look at her like that—not when you’re still here. She sighs instead, curling into your warmth, pressing her body against yours like she’s afraid of letting go.

Beyond the door, the world is still waiting. Responsibilities, regrets, unspoken fears—but not tonight. Tonight, Eve stays in your arms. And for the first time in years, she doesn’t feel alone.

A/N: My girl deserves better in every universe. THIS WAS PROOFREAD SO EXCUSE RANDOM EDITS LMFAO.

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

#fanfic #invincible #x reader #dom/sub #fem reader #sub and dom #invincible comic #invincible war #invincible spoilers #wlw smut #atom eve #samantha eve wilkins #eve wilkins #eve x reader #atom eve x reader #invincible show #smut #invincible smut

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areislol · 1 year ago

Text

A walk in the park

►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. crack/fluff, happy sappy stuff

►— synopsis. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belonged. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to where you were.

►— a/n. the more i write the more it feels like these are more like fillers.. sigh. once the angst settles in maybe it'll feel more eventful!

►— wordcount. 6k

✧ part five | ✧ part six | ✧ part seven | more tba.. NAVIGATION

recommended to listen to: what once was - her's

Who would've known that all 29 men would be pumped to go out for a picnic?

For a couple of weeks they've been in your home with only a selected few going out to accompany you out for shopping, and through those weeks you've felt like they lacked the sun and the outside world.

Not only that but they were curious about your world as well! So it was the best idea to take them to a park nearby your street and have a picnic as well. Not many people went to the park and if they did it was normally to walk their dogs.

You were more than happy when they all agreed to the plan to go out to the park and have a picnic.

Not only can they have more time to spend with you (ahem cross out the fact that you spend time with them every weekend) but also go out and see the view that they've been wanting to see for a while now.

You along with Diluc discussed about what you were going to bring, what snacks and meals to bring so that Thoma could prepare them with the help of Aether.

It was a nice change after a while, to be outside and having a nice little picnic with your favourite people (don't say who they'll have a fight, from your experience).

One thing that you were most excited about was how this wasn't just an ordinary park. Instead of the normal, prickly grass landscape with benches and a playground for children, there were no playground equipment and no benches at all.

Well.. you could just say that this was more of a plot of unbought land than a park. It was a comforting and quiet area that came with a river beside it, not only that but there were Willow trees near the river line.

Pretty romantic, right?

You were sure they had no feelings for you so why would you care if it was romantic or not? You had no clue as to why.

(No feelings for you? They're literally HEAD OVER HEELS for you, if their advances and courting don't work then they might as well make it obvious to you this day by doing everything they can!)

Currently, you were sitting on the floor, hands smearing sunscreen all over their face like how a mother would to their young child. It was an endearing sight.

Aether happily and quietly sat down in front of you, his eyes screwed shut as you smeared the sunscreen over his cheeks, chin, nose and forehead. You were careful not to touch his eyes with your hands.

Baizhu, Venti and Heizou stared at you in admiration and adoration, the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you tried your best to be careful and gentle with your touch.

They wouldn't wait for their turn, to feel your hands on their face... would it be just like how they imagined?

No matter what they knew they wouldn't be let down, if anything it'd be better than what they imagined from the first place!

Aether looked more than happy, you were just happy that he wasn't like Wanderer (the previous "victim" before Aether) who grumbled and scowled as he tried to swat your hand away a couple of times, he wasn't used to this type of affection.

Never in a million years would he resist his only creator who touched his face, and only after you gently told him to stay still did he listen.

"When do I need to reapply it?" Aether asked, eyes blinking open before moving to the side since you were now done with him, Tighnari came forward and sat down, waiting for his turn.

"Uhhh in like two or three hours? Don't worry I'll remind you!" You smiled, looking up at his face which was covered in white substance.

Aether happily hummed in return before walking away, proudly showing the rest of the men his sunscreen-covered face to the rest of the men. "You look quite giddy, Aether," Zhongli spoke, amused.

"I can say the same for you guys," Aether chuckled plopping down on the couch. Truth be told, they were all giddy to have your hands touch their face, most were teasing Diluc with the fact that he was blushing too hard, his cheeks almost the same colour as his hair.

"You can not be teasing me about blushing when you all are flustered as well! Don't act like you aren't."

Well... he wasn't lying.

For you to even touch them... the mere thought of it would certainly make them faint, but they needed to stay strong and pull it together, what would you think if you were just applying sunscreen on their cheeks and suddenly they passed out?

While you were busying yourself with your own job, Diluc, Kauzha, Itto and Ayato were all packing everything that they needed. You had given them a paper note with everything they needed, consisting of:

Water bottles Hats Bug spray (just in case) Snacks (no beans because of Itto) Extra pencils for Albedo and Tighnari to sketch with Tissues Sunscreen if it gets sunny Jacket just in case it gets cold

"Huh? Why's it crossed out?" Itto questioned, glaring at the scribbled-out sentence hoping that the scribbles would magically clear. Ayato shrugged, grabbing the pack of tissues that were stored in the drawers. "Guess we will never know, now get back to packing!"

Itto let out a small "ouch!" as Ayato hit him with the same packet of tissues. Ayato turned his back on Itto, a faint smile on his lips. He was a genius, minutes before he had scribbled out the last necessity, it had no need whatsoever.

Why have a spare jacket "just in case" when you can have his? A genius, he knows.

"Let's not waste time, they're probably waiting for us, you know." Diluc chimed in, both Ayato and Itto knew better than to stay idle. After a bit, they were finished packing everything.

Everything except the jacket, that is.

But Ayato dismisses it off to you being silly and writing it on accident. "Look outside, the weather is immaculate!" Ayato announced, pointing at the sun shining down onto the floor, small dust particles floating in the air in the sunlight.

Kazuha nods his head, a gentle smile on his face. "Indeed, the weather is amazing. If Y/N does need a jacket by the time we arrive at the park then we could lend them ours."

His idea was what Ayato worried the most, and now he had said it. Fuck, he wanted to be the one to have the idea to lend you his coat. But of course, Kazuha was Kazuha, a gentlemen.

After a couple of minutes they finally finished what they were supposed to do. "Is that everything?" Diluc asked after watching Itto zip up the stuffed bag. "Yup! All we have to do now is tell Y/N that—"

Itto hadn't even finished his sentence when he noticed Diluc walking away with the bags in his hand. Since when did he grab the one out of my hand?! Itto was appalled, obviously he did not expect Diluc to move so swiftly and quickly.

Diluc made his way towards the main area where everyone was, bags in his grasp as he stood near the couch where Aether, Wriothesley and Lyney sat.

Lyney gasped as he noticed the bags and coincidentally, the fresh and warm aroma of baked goods. "Does this mean we'll be going out soon? Oh I can't wait 'till I smell the fresh air..." Lyney sighed in relief, but his moment of happiness didn't last long as Aether playfully slapped his shoulder.

"Did you forget about the times you went outside in the yard? Is that not fresh air?" Aether raised his brow. Lyney rolled his eyes, nodding his head relunctantly while muttering a low "yeah yeah".

Finally, after what felt like infinity you finished applying sunscreen on all of them, it took you longer than expected but you didn't mind, the soft plush of their cheeks—the way they squinted their eyes as you carefully applied the cream near their eyes, was a sight you enjoyed.

Al haitham remained seated on the floor, and to your confusion, you cocked your head to the side. "You're the last person Al haitham, are you tired?" Ah, you were still as sweet as ever.

Your eyes scanned his face, he looked adorable with his almost white-covered face. There was no sign of discomfort at all. Al haitham shook his head, thankful for the sunscreen that covered his arising blush.

"I'm fine, thank you. I just want..." His voice trailed off, eyes darting away from yours. "Just waaannnttt?" You repeated, leaning in towards him with a curious gaze. Damn, you weren't helping at all.

Al haitham sighed, looking back up at you. "Nothing, don't worry about it." Your brows furrowed at his response, knowing that he was lying but backed away reluctantly.

You studied his expression, noting the delicate pink tainting his cheeks (the sunscreen did not justice whatsoever) and the troubled look in his eyes. "Are you sure?" you asked softly, your concern evident in your voice.

He hesitated for a moment. "Positive." he replied, his tone sounding believable for the moment. But your interaction was broken as Venti burst out laughing before yelling out something that Al haitham would most likely chase him for.

(He did.)

"Al haitham is feeling shy, Y/N~! I think he may be in L-O-V-E with you!" Venti giggled, acting drunk even though he has never drunk an ounce of wine in your world. As you turned your head towards Venti your cheeks a light pink ue.

Unbeknownst to you, Al haitham was staring daggers at the bard menacingly, deep down he did not want to deny his interested in you but now.. now was not the right time. He didn't like you, he was just... interested in you is all. Nothing more.

"Shy? Why would he—" "I am not feeling shy, Venti." Al haitham stated before he muttered a small "I apologize, Y/N" all the while his eyes were trained on Venti. The tension in the air was more than enough to get you to stand up and let out a dramatic and loud sigh.

They immediately looked at you, their gazes filled with confusion, anxiety and concern. But more of anxiety at the fact that they might have upsetted you, or more specifically, at the fact that Venti may have upset you and an upset you was definitely anxiety inducing.

Your eyes flickered between Venti and Al haitham, clearly disappointed in them. But by some miracle before they could get scolded, Diluc cleared his throat, catching the attention of you and the others.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything but Y/N, we're done packing. Is there anything else you want me to do?" His eyes bore into yours, too intimate for your liking. You shake your head, there was nothing else to do. "No it's fine, I'll go get ready now. Give me a couple of minutes!"

Diluc watched as you got up and scurried to your room, watching as the door closed shut. After your figure left his sight he quickly turned away, about to walk away he was suddenly smacked face front with a pillow.

The room went silent before Childe let out a small "oops.."

Clearly, that pillow wasn't meant for Diluc but for another. "Ah, Diluc. You know I didn't mean that—"

"Save it, Fatui."

Thankfully you were too busy locked in your room wondering what you should wear out. But instead of wasting time choosing and pairing up different clothes, you opted to just go for a casual look with a large straw hat for extra style.

Once you were done you stepped out of your room with your newly changed outfit, perfect for the occasion and weather. You were too busy patting your shirt down to notice the many stares being directed at you.

Despite not physically seeing the men staring at you, you could definitely feel their gaze. It was embarrassing honestly, them and the way they would stare at you. You were sure that you'd get used to them by now but every time it happens you never fail to melt into a large puddle.

You didn't have much time to walk away or prepare the others as you felt much larger and warm arms wrapping around your waist. You tensed up, looking over your shoulder to see—

"Childe!" You exclaimed, warmth creeping to your cheeks as you realised how close he was, he buried his head in your neck, arms snaked around your waist and holding you closely pressed against his stomach.

"Save me from that madman!" He pleaded, pointing to the furious red-haired male. You quirked your eyebrow, trying to grasp the situation.

Wait, was he... using you as a shield right now?

Shaking your head, you stared at Diluc, letting out a sigh before removing Childe's hand from your body and walking over to Diluc, pinching his cheeks.

"Just what are you doing to Childe?" You asked, scolding him all the while Childe watched, smirking.

Diluc muttered a small "nothing" when you stopped pinching his (chubby) cheeks, a delicate pink reaching his cheeks. Just as Childe was about to speak Venti interrupted him, much to Diluc's relief.

"Y/N! When are we going? We're all ready." You turned your head to the side and he was correct, they all looked dolled up and ready to leave. The sight itself made you smile. "Right now."

—

You really wanted to book a cab to save yourself some time to walk, but with 28 men? Yeah, no chance.

Currently, you are on your way with 28 men trailing behind you with Ayato and Wriothesley beside you. The park wasn't that far but since everybody had different walking paces sometimes you had to stop and wait for them (cough cough Baizhu cough cough).

Despite the occasional stops, the walk was filled with lively chatter and laughter. Venti played a cheerful tune on his lyre, and the sound of it seemed to do the opposite of lifting everyone's spirits.

When you finally reached the park, the men wowed in aw. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees.

You found a perfect spot under a large oak tree with ample shade and enough space for everyone. Alhaitham and Zhongli set about laying out the picnic blanket while Diluc and Kaeya carried the baskets filled with food and drinks.

Lyney and Tighnari helped you settle down, making sure you were comfortable. The others began to gather around, forming a loose circle. Xiao and Cyno were already scoping out the area, ensuring it was safe and secure. You couldn't help but smile at their actions.

"It's safe don't worry," You spoke, trying to ease their worry. Xiao nods his head. "I know… I was just making sure." He murmured, a faint blush on his cheeks though you dismiss it as the heat.

"Alright, everyone, let's settle down!" you called out, clapping your hands together.

The group erupted into action. Kazuha and Kaveh began setting out the various dishes they had prepared, each one looking more delicious than the last. Pantalone and Pierro arranged the drinks, ensuring there was something for everyone.

Albedo, Baizhu, and Thoma took charge of ensuring that the surrounding area was safe from dangerous bugs and whatnot. You wanted to help as well but they all (scarily) disagreed with a synchronized "no." and "we'll do it, you just relax and enjoy."

As everyone settled down, you found yourself sandwiched between Venti and Wanderer, who seemed intent on keeping you by their side. Across the blanket, you could see Albedo and Tighnari deep in conversation, likely discussing some fascinating "alchemical theories".

You glanced over at Baizhu, who was taking a moment to rest. Baizhu caught your eye and gave you a reassuring smile as if to say he was fine and enjoying himself.

The aroma of various dishes filled the air, making everyone’s stomachs growl in anticipation.

"Are you not going to eat?" You asked, cocking your head to the side as you watched Baizhu lie down on the blanket, seemingly bored out of his mind. He hums softly for a moment before replying.

"I'll eat later don't you worry. However, the naan and chicken curry smells delicious. You should try that first."

You nod your head. "Sure—"

"No, you should definitely try the salted chips, I ate some earlier and it was so good!" Venti intervened, a bright and wide smile on his lips as he spoke of how delicious the salt was on the chips.

"You should try the dango first," Ayato insisted, holding out a stick of the sweet treat.

"No, the chicken skewers are the best way to start," Childe countered, waving one in front of you.

"How about some fresh fruit? It's light and refreshing," suggested Tighnari, offering a bowl filled with colorful slices.

"Soup first," Diluc said firmly, presenting a thermos of warm, savory broth.

You couldn't help but laugh at their attempts to sway your decision. "Alright, alright, I'll eat everything eventually," you said, trying to calm the frenzy. But they only seemed to become more determined.

But after a little, they gave up (some merely pretended to) with low, disappointed mumbles. Everyone began to pick out their food and ate, talking amongst one another, playing cards or simply just admiring the view (you).

You were about to eat some chicken when Venti interrupted once again. "Here, try this," Venti said, playfully feeding you a bite of apple pie. You chewed and smiled, the sweetness filling your mouth.

"How about this one?" Xiao asked, gently offering a piece of grilled fish. You accepted it, savouring the flavor as the others looked on with amusement and jealousy.

"Hey, no fair, we wanted to feed them too!" Itto exclaimed, crossing his arms.

"There's enough for everyone," you reassured, reaching out to take a bit from the various dishes presented to you. Each bite brought new flavors and voices vying for your attention.

Amidst the laughter and friendly arguments, you felt a wave of happiness. This chaos, this silly competition to see who could please you the most, was very amusing to watch unravel before you.

After everyone had their fill, you wiped your mouth and looked around at the eager faces. "Alright, you can go play now," you said with a grin. Childe erupted cheers, being the first to jump up, thanking you and grabbing Ittos arm.

"Finish the chase you started," He sneered, wanting to show everyone of how much of an idiot Itto was. "Oh, you're on!" Itto replied, beginning to chase Childe like a madman while Childe taunted him.

"Those idiots.." Diluc sighed, looking away from the embarrassing sight. You hummed in response, continuing to bite down on the fruits as you watched them both. "How do you even put up with them?" Diluc asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. "I don't even know."

Albedo, Tighnari, and Cyno stayed behind, preferring a quieter afternoon. They sat with you, Albedo sketching in his notebook while Tighnari discussed botanical topics. You listened intently, occasionally asking questions there and then.

Zhongli and Wriothesley settled beside each other, munching on the snacks. and offering you some there and then. Al haitham, Kaveh and Ayato simply talked to one another, playing the game you taught them—"I Spy".

It was quite fun, it started off as a small group but others began to join after overhearing them play. It seemed fun. Needless to say, Heizou, Dottore, Gorou, Lyney, Venti and Wanderer joined in, some screamed out in excitement, their eyes scanning the area to find the answer.

The sight was funny, for you anyway. Seeing them get all riled up over the wrong answer and fighting over who would go next.

Neuvillette, Thoma, Kazuha, Kaeya, Diluc and Baizhu all did their own things, Neuvillette was staring at the lake, watching the ducks swim by and the frogs hopping on one lily pad to another.

Thoma secured each container and made sure that the rubbish was in the rubbish bag, Kazuha watched the scenery and scribbled in his book, Kaeya laid down on your legs, feeling content as you played with his hair. Diluc finally got seated down next to you and simply sat there, enjoying your presence.

And Baizhu was now seated up, snacking on some of the food that you saved for him and ChangSheng.

While watching the things around you, you felt happy, overwhelmingly happy, the aura was so positive, and everyone was having fun and that made you happy.

It made you realise that you needed to record the memories somehow so that you could always look back and remember the feelings you felt back then.

Grabbing your phone from your pocket you pressed the record button, recording the men playing I Spy, they laughed and yelled, enjoying themselves.

You took a moment to soak it all in, feeling a warm sense of contentment. Being surrounded by so many people who cared about you made your heart swell with love.

"What are you doing?" Diluc questioned, leaning towards your side and watching you record them. You don't take your eyes off the phone and just smile. "Recording memories, they look so happy."

Diluc hums, eyes glancing up at you and then down at your phone. "Do you mind if I borrow your phone for a moment?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You glanced at him, surprised but trusting. "Sure, go ahead."

He took the phone from your hand, and you expected him to record the others playing. Instead, he turned the camera towards you, your phone capturing your surprised expression. "Smile," He softly said.

"W—Wait! Not my face!" You shrieked, instinctively covering your face with your hands, your voice muffled behind your fingers. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, embarrassed by the sudden attention.

"Why not? I think it's important to have memories of you as well," he replied, his eyes meeting yours through the screen. He gently pulled your hands away from your face, trying to coax you into letting him capture your smile.

You peeked through your fingers, feeling both shy and touched by his words. "Because… I don't know. I just prefer being behind the camera," you admitted, eyes not meeting the lens.

"Well, I think it's time you get used to being in front of it," Diluc said, his smile still so gentle and tender. He held the phone steady, patiently waiting for you to relax.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly lowered your hands, trying to muster the courage to face the camera. "Alright, but just for a moment," you said, your voice shaky yet determined.

He began recording again, and you tried to smile naturally, feeling embarrassed. "There you go," he encouraged, his eyes never leaving yours. "See? It's not so bad."

You couldn't help but laugh at his persistence, the sound light and genuine. "Fine, you win," you said, finally giving in.

Diluc laughed along with you, "Perfect," he said, his voice filled with affection. "Alright, let me record the rest of them now." You laughed, getting back your phone and making sure that you videoed everyone.

But that wasn't enough. You began to take photos of everyone, mid-eating pictures, photos of Childe and Itto panting, falling onto the ground as the passerby looked at the both of them in confusion. There was a picture for everyone.

You took some photos of the scenery as well, especially the sky and the lake although some of the photos included the faces of the men. "Is it okay if I post this on my story? It's friends only." You pointed at the photo in your gallery, waiting for Ayato's response.

Ayato smiled, nodding his head. "I don't mind, just make sure that I look good before posting" You rolled your eyes playfully. "Of course, I wouldn't do you dirty."

You took your time in picking out a good song for the picture for your story, making sure to edit it and make it look aesthetically pleasing for your friends. You posted a lot, around six or more photos, even some silly filter selfies with you and Diluc.

(Diluc would rather die than admit it but he really enjoyed the silly filters with you, especially the alien and dog ones.)

"Why do we look like that?"

"It's called a filter! Here, look.." You flipped the camera around, the lens focusing on Heizou's face as he continued guessing, unaware of the filter on his face that sharpened his features and gave him a whole facelift.

Holding back your laughter you let out small laughs, trying to not attract attention. "See?"

"Do it on Pierro."

"Oh, you're evil."

The sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the park, Some of the men had fallen asleep, and you were fighting the urge to just fall asleep in a click.

You felt a wave of drowsiness wash over you and leaned your head on Diluc’s shoulder, your eyes growing heavy.

Diluc, silent as ever, noticed your weariness. He adjusted himself slightly to give you a more comfortable spot, his shoulder a firm support.

Childe, who had recovered from being chased around by Itto, bounded towards you, ready to call out your name with his enthusiasm. “Hey, Y/N–”

His voice died in his throat as he caught sight of Diluc’s glare. “Wake them up and I’ll murder you,” Diluc’s eyes promised without needing to utter a word.

Childe, recognizing the threat behind those eyes, immediately clamped his mouth shut, smiling sheepishly before turning around and walking over to where the others were.

The other men, aware of your state, exchanged nods and communicated in hushed tones, not daring to wake you up.

"It's getting late, should we go back?" Kazuha questioned, his eyes scanning the sky and the park, there were fewer people and it was comfortingly quiet with the occasional chirping of the birds.

"The sun is setting…" Neuvillette pointed out, his gaze wavering on your sleepy face. It didn't take long until the rest of the men agreed that they should leave.

Diluc carefully shifted, preparing to carry you back home. With the help of Zhongli and Ayato, they managed to hoist you onto Diluc’s back without disturbing your sleep.

As they began to walk back to your place, the gentle rhythm of Diluc’s steps and the warmth of his body slowly roused you from your sleep. You blinked groggily, realizing that someone was carrying you.

Diluc’s warmth enveloped you, his warmth was comforting and he smelled good as well. You instinctively nuzzled closer to him, feeling safe and content.

“Sorry for waking you,” Diluc’s voice was soft, almost apologetic. “We’re heading back now.”

You smiled sleepily, the drowsiness still present. “No, it’s okay,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Diluc’s hold on you tightened slightly, the others walked around you, occasionally glancing back to ensure you were alright, their faces a mixture of concern and affection.

The walk back was quiet for the most part, the earlier energy of the day giving way to a peaceful silence. The night air was filled with the sounds of crickets and the soft rustle of leaves.

Each step Diluc took was steady and deliberate, the warmth radiating off his back made you want to fall back asleep but as you lifted up your head you realised that you were near your home.

Finally, arriving at your place, Diluc gently lowered you down, ensuring you were steady on your feet. The men began to settle their things, chatting softly among themselves about the day's events.

Thoma and Aether immediately took charge of the kitchen, efficiently cleaning up and wrapping the leftovers with practised ease.

You made your way to your bedroom, grabbing a white top and shorts before walking into the bathroom, and stepping into the shower, the warm water cascaded over your skin, washing away the tiredness and leaving you feeling rejuvenated.

You let the water run along your back, letting out a sigh from the sensation. This is what you need after a day out.

The familiar scent of your body wash enveloped you, a comforting aroma that lingered even as you stepped out. Dressed in a simple white top and shorts, you felt ready to wind down for the evening. You stepped out of the bathroom and walked towards the washing machine, throwing your clothes into the machine.

"Feeling better?" Aether asked, looking up at you as he sat on the couch, reading a comic book. You nod your head, plopping down beside him. "You smell good," He crooned, leaning in towards you, his nose almost touching your neck.

You let out a whine at the ticklish sensation, pushing his head away. "It's my body wash, maybe you should try it." Aether offered you a small smile. "Hm, maybe."

One by one, the rest of the men took their turns in the shower, each emerging looking more relaxed and at ease. Despite the tiredness evident on their faces, there was an underlying sense of contentment from the day well spent. It was already 7 pm, and the house buzzed with a quiet, tired energy.

Diluc, always attentive, handed you a cup of tea. “Here, this should help you relax,” he said, his voice soft and caring. You took the cup gratefully, the warmth seeping into your hands as you sipped.

“Thanks,” you murmured, giving him a small, appreciative smile.

The living room was soon filled with the men, some lounging on the couches, others finding comfortable spots on the floor. Xiao sat nearby, his usually stern expression softened as he listened to the soft music that played on your record player.

Thoma and Cyno joined you on the couch, Thoma still drying his hair with a towel. “Today was fun,” Thoma said, his eyes sparkling with the remnants of the day’s excitement.

You hummed, taking another sip of your tea. “It really was. I’m glad we got to spend time together like this.”

Cyno smiled warmly. “We should do it more often. It’s good to take a break. And the games we played were fun as well.”

Before you could respond, the persistent buzzing of your phone pulled your attention away from the peaceful evening. You picked up your phone, noticing the flurry of notifications from friends reacting to your latest story.

Messages like

"Oh my gosh!! So pretty!" and "You didn't invite me?? :(" filled your lock screen. Some friends commented, "Looks like you had a lovely time, next time invite me xx" and "WOWW!! Who are those cuties??"

One particularly bold message read, "You gotta give me their number, mannn, they…" trailing off suggestively.

Smiling, you responded to each message, enjoying the interaction. You took a little more time replying to Elisa, your new friend who had recently joined your circle. Despite her outward friendliness, there was something about her that felt off, but you pushed that thought aside.

Perhaps she was just shy?

Her message read,

"Hey, saw your story! That looked like so much fun! Are you free tomorrow night? There's this amazing party my friends hosting at 8 PM, it's going to be epic and it lasts till the next morning. There will be plenty of boys and girls as well~ You should totally come!"

After a moment's hesitation, you replied,

"Hey Elisa! Thanks for the invite. That sounds fun! I think I'll come, no drinking though…"

Elisa's response was almost instant.

"Great! Can't wait to see you there! Wear something cute! If you can't find any I'll lend you mine, or I can help you piece 'em up together! Night!"

As you put your phone down, you couldn't help but feel excitement and slight unease about the party. "Everything okay?" Zhongli's calm voice broke your reverie. He had a knack for sensing your moods.

"Yeah, just got invited to a party tomorrow night," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Will you be going?" he asked, his eyes steady on yours.

"I think so," you said, smiling. "It might be nice to get out with my friends for a bit."

Zhongli nodded, though his gaze remained thoughtful. "Just be careful. Parties can be unpredictable."

Wriothesley, sitting nearby, chuckled. "We'll make sure you get there and back safely." You smiled gratefully at his words. "Aw, thank you! You guys are the best" Wriothesley let out a cough, looking away with a slight tint of red at the tip of his ears.

Suddenly the wall looked interesting.

The evening went on, the men gradually settled into a comfortable silence. Albedo and Kazuha were engrossed in a deep discussion about poetry and science as usual, while Kaeya and Itto exchanged playful banter, their laughter filling the room.

You found yourself gravitating towards the large window, looking out at the darkening sky. The stars were beginning to twinkle, and the moon cast a soft glow over everything.

Childe plopped down next to you, his usual boisterousness tempered by the day’s events. “You did good today, keeping everyone together,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

You chuckled softly. “It’s not that hard when you have such great company.”

Childe grinned, his eyes twinkling at your words. “Still, it’s nice to see you enjoying yourself. You deserve it.”

The room gradually quieted as the tiredness caught up with everyone. Diluc suggested that everyone get some rest. “We’ve had a long day. Let’s all get some sleep,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm.

You nodded in agreement. “He’s right. We should all rest up.”

The men began to disperse, finding their respective sleeping spots. Some of them opted for the couches and floor cushions, while others made their way to the guest room or into your room.

Today, Baizhu and Lyney would be the (lucky) ones to sleep in your bed. They all made their way to your bed with Baizhu going first, you, and then Lyney. Settling in, you pulled the covers over you all, feeling snug as you immediately began to melt into your bed.

"Night guys," You yawned, sleeping on your side, closing your eyes as Thoma closed the lights and rolled the blinds down, the room fully dark now. "Good night." They responded all at different times, some had already fallen asleep.

"This week I can leave campus early, so I'll go buy some more mattresses for you guys okay" The men hummed in response. "Who's coming with you?" Wanderer asked because if you didn't have someone set in your mind, he called dibs.

You let out a sigh, thinking about your answer. "I'm not sure… anyone I guess."

"I call dibs." Wanderer quickly stated.

"Hey no fair! I was going to call dibs!" One said.

"I dibbed in my mind so I was the first one" Another said.

"It doesn't work like that, idiot!"

The house soon fell into a peaceful silence, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of blankets and the soft breathing of your companions.

But for some odd reason, you couldn't fall asleep despite how tired you felt (possibly might be because of the tea). You couldn't shake the nagging thought that… the joy you experienced might be the last time you would see them all.

You knew that they didn't belong in your world, that they would have to return one day, but in the back of your mind, you prayed that luck would be on your side. But the realization hit you like a punch to the gut, wondering what the future held for them all.

You knew better, you told yourself, "Don't get attached." but now? You could care less, even if would hurt you in the end. Instead, you chose to embrace the present moment, savouring every laugh, every smile, and every shared memory as if it were your last.

You closed your eyes, feeling the comfort of the day’s memories. Surrounded by the people you cared about, you let yourself drift off to sleep, knowing that no matter what, you were never alone.

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(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter! if i forgot to tag you im so sorry!)

additional notes: i may not be able to see your comment to be added to the taglist for the earlier chapters (1, 2, 3, etc) so please hop in my inbox and tell me as it'll be easier for me! thanks for reading :)

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

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hellinistical · 5 months ago

Text

Priest! Vampire! Rafayel x Nun! Reader.

synopsis: when a charming new priest is sent to your convent amidst the winter freeze, you're naturally untrusting. unfortunately, he's more knowledgeable of the faith, and you could learn a thing or two, especially if you want to protect yourself from the recent vampire attacks.

trigger warnings: (heavy plot!). minor and major character death, blood, dubious consent, sacrilegious themes (Not Christianity or Catholicism; made up religion but using synonymous terms), gore, porn with plot, fingering (fem. receiving), hand jobs, piv, non-consensual vampire transformation, bodily horror, drinking blood, playing with blood, human consumption, unwilling cannibalism, afab reader- usage of female anatomy (though not descriptive of size/skin markings). fem. reader- she/her used. biting. choking. manipulation. blasphemy. overstimulation. virgin reader. corruption. monster fucking. slight belly bulge, bondage. incorrect use of holy water. wax play. this list may expand and/or be altered.

trigger warnings: (for this chapter): afab. reader. fem. reader. body horror. vomit. descriptive ruin of flesh. trauma exploitation. careless discard of a body. blood. death of minor character. implied death of a child. maiming. pet names. manipulation. emotional manipulation. suffocation. descriptions of flesh and membranes. breaking of a neck. misuse of religious beliefs. the start of an obsession.

a/n: this piece holds no actual religious scripture or quotes, I just needed those terms as they were synonymous. This is in NO WAY a jab at those faiths nor is it meant to spread hate or harm to them. It is also not an insult to those who practice. I tried to write with care, which yeah may be hypocritical of what I have here, so I apologize. Additionally, thank you to everyone who voted in the poll. While it was originally intended to be a one-shot, I felt it would be better to break it into chunks as this is very plot-heavy. Thank you for your support! Reblogs are highly appreciated.

word count: 7.5k

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III. La Sorella

"When the rooms were warm, he'd call,"

Gods above, you had smelled divine.

Rafayel leaned back in his chair, fingers brushing over his lips as he exhaled through his nose, tasting the memory of it. It had been subtle, carried by the warmth of your skin, woven into the fibers of your habit. He imagined the way it must cling to you, pressed into the nape of your neck, tucked behind your ears, threaded through your hair.

How unfair, he thought, tongue running over the tips of his fangs. He had spent centuries with the scent of blood, of damp stone and dying prayers, yet here you were—brimming with life, untouched by decay, and smelling of something so achingly pure that it made his jaw tighten.

Rafayel exhaled sharply, shaking his head. It was just a scent. A passing thing. Nothing more.

And yet, deep in the marrow of his bones, he already knew that was a lie.

How unfair. How cruel, really, for something so fleeting to leave such an imprint.

The moment you stepped into his office, the scent had wrapped around him like a whisper of something forbidden, something intoxicating. It was warm, faintly sweet—like honey drizzled over ripe peaches left to bask in the summer sun. Beneath that, something softer, cleaner, the lingering trace of soap and the crisp linen of your habit, worn and washed a hundred times over. But it wasn’t just that. No, there was something alive in your scent, something human, something red.

It clung to the air even after you had gone, weaving itself into the wood grain of his desk, settling in the old stone walls like an invitation he hadn't asked for. He inhaled deeply, letting it fill his lungs, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as if trying to taste the ghost of you that still lingered.

You had stood so close. So unaware.

He closed his eyes, fingers twitching at his sides as he exhaled slowly. There was something sinful about the way you smelled—like warmth on a cold night, like blood rushing just beneath delicate skin, like something he wanted.

Regardless, he'd have plenty of time to be close tomorrow.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached for his scripture, the old leather cover worn smooth beneath his fingertips. He licked his thumb, the taste of parchment and dust lingering on his tongue as he flipped through the fragile pages, scanning the familiar words. Verses of devotion, of faith, of divine wrath and holy retribution. The very foundation of Astra’s will.

But his mind was elsewhere.

Tomorrow, he would walk beside you, close enough to catch the warmth of your breath in the winter air. Close enough to see the way your pulse fluttered at the base of your throat. Close enough to watch the light shift in your eyes when you smiled at the villagers. Would you smile at him, too? Would you laugh, let your voice rise like a bell in the quiet streets of Linkon?

His fingers stilled on the page.

“And on the third day,” Father Rafayel intoned, his voice steady, measured, almost instructional, “The Vampires set off to find brides of their own,”

He moved slowly through the pews, the hem of his robes whispering against the stone floor as he passed. His hands were clasped neatly behind his back, fingers idly tracing the spine of his scripture. The flickering candlelight carved sharp planes into his face, but his expression was calm, thoughtful—he was not simply preaching, but teaching.

“To this, Astra spoke: ‘Man shall know no fear but of me, for I am ever the protector.’” He paused, letting the words settle in the air before continuing. “And so, in His divine wisdom, Astra cast the Vampire into eternal cold. For if the Vampire were to know warmth, would they not still refuse to repent?”

He turned slightly, addressing the room as a whole. “What is warmth, my flock?” His voice was softer now, almost coaxing. “Is it merely the sun on our backs, the fire in our hearths? Or is it the love we hold for one another, the kindness we offer, the devotion we show to Astra?”

A murmur of agreement spread through the congregation, heads nodding, some lips moving in whispered prayer.

Rafayel smiled faintly, satisfied, and resumed his slow pace down the aisle.

“To be cast into coldness,” he continued, “is not merely a punishment of the flesh, but of the spirit. The Vampire are forever condemned to hunger, to crave what they cannot have. They are forever seeking, but never satisfied.” He stopped near the front, tilting his head slightly. “And so, my dear postulants, what lesson do we take from this?”

Silence hung in the air as the room awaited his answer.

“That to seek what is not given to us by Astra is to invite suffering.” His gaze swept over the congregation, his voice unwavering. “That desire unchecked is a cage of our own making.”

He exhaled softly, letting his words settle before offering a small, composed smile.

You raise your hand, clearing your throat. "If desire unchecked is a cage, then why is it not when it is checked? Wouldn't a cage be limiting you instead?"

A flicker of amusement passed through Father Rafayel’s eyes as he turned to you, his expression unreadable yet attentive. He tilted his head slightly, considering your words with the patience of a scholar indulging an inquisitive student.

“A thoughtful question,” he mused, stepping closer. “Desire itself is not inherently evil, nor is it a cage by nature. But tell me,” his gaze locked onto yours, “when man desires something beyond his reach, something that is not his to take, does it not consume him?”

He paused, letting the room linger in the weight of his words.

“A cage is not merely bars and locks—it is the torment of longing unfulfilled. It is the hunger of the Vampire, forever seeking what has been denied to them.” His voice was even, yet there was something beneath it, something deeper. “Unchecked, desire festers, twists, becomes something monstrous. But when it is tempered—when it is acknowledged, understood, and held within the boundaries Astra has given us—it ceases to be a prison.”

He stepped back slightly, offering the faintest ghost of a smile. “Tell me, postulant, do you feel caged?”

"I do not. But...I also dont see why there are so many restrictions on the Vampire. What did they do? If we have power to limit them ourselves, why would Astra not just eradicate them?"

A silence settled over the room, thick and heavy. The other postulants shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting between you and Father Rafayel. Even Simone, usually bold, looked at you as though you had just spoken something forbidden.

Father Rafayel, however, did not react with outrage or condemnation. If anything, there was a glint in his blue-and-pink eyes—something sharp, something intrigued. He regarded you for a long moment.

Instead, he laughed.

Low and quiet at first, but with a growing amusement that unsettled those around you. He shook his head, exhaling through his nose as if he had just been presented with the most fascinating puzzle.

“A fair question,” he said, and just like that, the room exhaled. His tone held no scorn, no reprimand—only consideration. “You ask why Astra did not simply eradicate the Vampire, rather than shackle them with restriction?” He clasped his hands behind his back, beginning to pace through the pews, as though contemplating aloud.

“Consider this: why does Astra allow the wicked to walk among the righteous? Why does He not strike down every thief, every liar, every sinner the moment they transgress?” He paused, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “Because even the condemned have a role to play in this world. Their suffering, their struggle—it is a lesson, a warning, and a test of our own devotion.”

He stopped pacing, turning to face you fully. “The Vampire were not always as they are now. Long ago, they were men—until they defied Astra’s will, hungered for that which was forbidden, and sought to claim it. Their punishment was not to be erased from existence, but to endure. To be stripped of warmth, of sustenance, of life as they once knew it.”

"But Father, why are we so focused on the Vampire anyways as of late?" Simone asked, a puzzled expression on her face.

“A perceptive question, Sister Simone,” Father Rafayel murmured, settling into his chair with a composed ease. He adjusted his glasses, the flickering candlelight catching in the lenses, making his irises gleam.

He flipped through the scripture deliberately, the rustling of parchment the only sound in the heavy silence. When he found the passage he sought, he tapped a finger against the page, though he did not read aloud. Instead, he looked up at you both.

“The Vampires have always been a topic of importance in theological study,” he began smoothly. “They represent the boundary between man and monster. The consequence of unchecked desire. It is not merely about them, but about us—what we allow to fester in our hearts, what we fail to restrain.”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze drifting over the assembled postulants. “And yet, it is true—recently, the discussions of the Vampire have grown more… pressing.”

His fingers drummed lightly against the arm of his chair. “You’ve heard of the murders in Linkon, haven’t you?” His voice was calm, but something about it made the room feel colder.

A few of the younger postulants shivered. Simone nodded, hesitantly. “Yes, Father. But surely, it can’t be—”

He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “Can’t be? I wonder, Sister Simone, how many bodies must pile before we stop dismissing the possibility?”

Silence.

“Astra’s teachings are not just relics of the past,” he continued, tapping a page with a gloved finger. “They are guidance for the present. The Vampire are not just myths, nor are they merely the evils of old. Their hunger is eternal, their presence... insidious.”

A beat of silence. Then, softer, more deliberate:

“It is our duty to be vigilant.”

He leaned back slightly, exuding the calm authority of a scholar, though something in his expression—something behind his ever-so-patient eyes—felt oddly satisfied.

“Does that answer your question, Sister Simone?”

You frown. Sureley there was more to it.

When you open your mouth to speak, Rafayel closes his book. "That will be all. We will begin our donations, in one hour. Get your food and drink, and you all grab your coats." his smile is kind, easy as he gets up.

Pressing your lips together, biting back the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. Something about his answer—about him—still doesn’t sit right with you, but there’s no point in pushing now.

Father Rafayel’s smile is warm, pleasant even, as he stands, robes shifting around him like a flowing shadow. But when his gaze flickers toward you, there’s something beneath the kindness—something watchful.

"Come now," he says, tone as gentle as a lullaby. "Astra blesses those who give freely. Let us not keep the good people of Linkon waiting."

You nod slowly, following the others as they file out of the pews.

The bread felt dry as you swallowed, your gaze fixed on Sister Jenna. She stood near Father Rafayel, their heads bent in close conversation. Her brows were knitted in concern, lips moving rapidly as she spoke. Father Rafayel listened intently, his expression calm, occasionally nodding in response.

You couldn't hear their words over the ambient chatter of the dining hall, but the tension in Sister Jenna's posture was unmistakable. She wrung her hands together, a gesture you recognized as a sign of her deep worry. Father Rafayel, in contrast, remained composed, his demeanor almost soothing as he replied to her.

Simone set her plate down beside you. "You would think they'd get tired of soup. But noooo." she tears her bread in half, dipping it in the soup before throwing a quick, "Thank you Astra.", and biting a good bit off.

You smirk, tearing off a piece of your own bread. "Soup is easy. Keeps everyone warm, keeps everyone fed. Besides, I think it's tradition at this point."

Simone chews thoughtfully before swallowing. "Mmm. Maybe. But still, a little variety wouldn't kill us. Imagine—roast duck, maybe a sweet pudding for dessert." She sighs dramatically, resting her cheek on her hand. "One can dream."

You chuckle, but your eyes drift back to Sister Jenna and Father Rafayel. She's still speaking, her hands now clasped tightly in front of her chest. Whatever she's saying has her nervous—agitated even.

Simone follows your gaze, raising an eyebrow. "What's up with Sister Jenna? She looks like she just found a rat in the bread bin."

You shake your head. "Not sure. But whatever it is, she’s not happy."

Father Rafayel murmurs something to Sister Jenna, and though you can't hear him, his expression remains smooth, almost reassuring. Sister Jenna, however, doesn't seem entirely convinced.

Simone nudges you with her elbow. "Bet it’s about the Vampire stuff." She lowers her voice mockingly. "Bewaaare, the Vampire walk among us, waiting to steal your warmth."

You roll your eyes. "Shh, someone's going to hear you."

Simone grins, tearing off another piece of bread. "Oh please, everyone’s too busy praying over their tasteless soup to notice."

"Still- he's rather...impish, don't you think?" Another plate settles beside you- Yvonne. "I think he's rather handsome."

You snort, covering your mouth as you chew. "Handsome? Yvonne, really?"

Yvonne shrugs, taking a dainty sip of her soup. "What? He is. Those eyes, that voice—he’s got presence."

Simone huffs, rolling her eyes. "Oh, come on. He’s unsettling. He always looks like he knows something we don’t."

Yvonne tilts her head. "That’s called intelligence, Simone. You might not be familiar with it."

Simone glares, flicking a breadcrumb at her. "Ha. Ha."

You glance over at Rafayel again. He's now watching Sister Jenna leave, his expression unreadable before he turns back to his own meal.

You lean in slightly. "Impish is a good word for him," you admit. "He’s...polite, but there’s something beneath it. Like he’s always amused by something we’re not in on."

Yvonne hums, tapping her spoon against the rim of her bowl. "That’s what makes him interesting."

Simone makes a face. "That’s what makes him creepy."

"Ya know, it's weird. Priests can get married and stuff but we can't." “Not how it works, Yvonne." "Father Thomas is married." "Okay?"

Simone waves her spoon dismissively. "That’s different. He was married before he joined the priesthood."

Yvonne shrugs. "Still. Feels unfair." You smirk. "You thinking of running off and getting married, Yvonne?" She grins. "Depends. Maybe if Father Rafayel asks nicely." Simone groans, throwing her head back. "Oh, please!" You chuckle, shaking your head. "I don't think he’s the marrying type." Yvonne sighs dramatically. "Shame. I’d make a great priest’s wife."

"Good thing you’re not allowed, then," Simone teases, nudging her.

Yvonne pouts. "Still, it’s not fair. Why can’t we?" You shrug. "I don’t think that’s the point, Yvonne. We’re supposed to be devoted to Astra, not distracted by… earthly things." Yvonne smirks. "You say that, but if Father Rafayel asked you to marry him, what then?" You nearly choke on your soup, coughing as Simone snickers. "That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard." "Is it?" Yvonne teases, nudging you. "You’re always asking him questions. Maybe you’re just curious about more than scripture." You glare at her, cheeks warming. "I ask because I want to understand, not because—ugh, never mind." Simone stretches her arms. "Honestly, if he did get married, I feel like it’d be to a book. Or his own reflection."

Yvonne sighs dramatically. "What a waste of a handsome face."

You roll your eyes, but as you take another sip of soup, you can’t help but glance at Rafayel again. He’s speaking with another sister now, his expression pleasant, charming even.

Your eyes meet Father Rafayels for a moment, and you don't miss the crows feet when his eyes smile, all too gone before his gaze returns to Sister Jenna. Yvonne and Simone were too busy talking to have noticed.

Your heart skips a beat. Was that...a hint of warmth in his gaze? You quickly look away, feeling a heat rise in your cheeks. There’s no way. He’s just being kind, like he always is. Right?

But the way his smile reached his eyes, how it seemed to linger just a bit longer than usual, leaves you wondering. The curiosity gnaws at you, but you shove it down, forcing yourself to focus on your meal.

Yvonne continues, oblivious. "I still think we’re underutilized around here. I mean, we could do more than serve soup, right?"

Simone laughs. "Don’t tell me you want to be handing out more donations. I can’t imagine carrying all those bags around."

You shake your head. "It’s not about what we’re doing. It’s about why we’re doing it. We’re helping others."

"That’s one way to look at it," Simone says with a shrug. "But we could still use a little more excitement."

You can’t help but glance back at Father Rafayel. His attention is still on Sister Jenna, but now, the thought of that smile lingers with you. What if there's more?

Trying to clear your head, you focus on the conversation again.

"Here you go ma'am," you hand a care basket to a woman. "No- no more- I don't need help from the church," "Pardon?"

The woman recoils slightly, her eyes narrowing as she looks at the basket in your hands, then at you. Her tone is sharp, defensive, as though she’s been caught in something she wants no part of.

"I don’t want anything from the church," she repeats, her voice low, almost trembling with unspoken anger. "What do you want? To keep me quiet? To pretend you’re doing some good?"

You blink, unsure how to respond. The other villagers, some further down the path, keep their distance.

Father Rafayel, noticing the exchange, steps forward, his presence looming. "Ma’am, this is simply an offering from Astra’s followers. No strings attached. It’s just food to help you."

She glares at him, almost looking through him. "It’s never just that, is it? You think you’re fooling us? I know what’s behind all this." Her voice cracks, and she steps back, shaking her head. "I don’t need your charity."

You hold the basket in your hands, unsure of what to do. Father Rafayel seems unphased.

"My son is missing after one of your 'donations,'" she repeats, her voice trembling but steady now, as if she’s found strength in her grief. "He was taken, just like the others. Don’t think I don’t know how these things work. You make promises, give a little, take a lot."

You feel a knot form in your stomach, an uncomfortable silence stretching between you, as all eyes from the group of villagers flick toward the woman. Father Rafayel’s calm demeanor falters for just a fraction of a second, but it's quickly masked by his polite smile, though his eyes are sharp and calculating.

"I’m afraid I don’t understand," he says, his voice soft but firm, yet with a subtle edge that betrays a hint of something darker beneath. "I assure you, every donation we make is done with good intent. There is no malice in our charity."

The woman steps forward, her face contorted with a mixture of sorrow and rage. "I watched him take that toy one of you left... Then he vanished." Her eyes flicker toward the other villagers, who are all pretending to be preoccupied but watching intently. "Now, I ask you, where is he?"

"Ma’am, please," he says smoothly, stepping closer to the woman with measured steps. "Accusations like these cannot be made lightly. I am certain there has been some misunderstanding."

“No! My son is gone, Father! Dead, like the others! Where is Sister Agnes? She is the only one suitable to lead Linkon!”

Father Rafayel puts a hand on your shoulder, cold and firm, before pulling you behind him.

His smile softens, almost as if he’s pitying the woman. He steps forward, his posture unthreatening, but there’s an air of assurance in his every movement. His grip on your shoulder loosens, and his voice drops to a soothing tone.

“Please, ma’am,” he says, his words gentle but full of weight. “I understand your grief. We all feel it, in our own ways.” His gaze shifts to the villagers standing around, their worried expressions now caught between fear and uncertainty. “But I promise you, nothing has happened here that you don’t understand yet. There are things beyond our control—things that even I, as a servant of Astra, cannot explain fully.”

He places a hand on the woman’s arm, his touch tender yet firm, guiding her emotions as if his mere presence could steady her heart. “The disappearance of your son, the pain you feel... I understand it more than you know. But blaming the church, blaming me—won’t bring him back.” His voice is like a balm, his words measured with the intent to comfort and convince.

“Do you trust me?” he asks softly, leaning just enough to meet her eyes, his expression almost fatherly, as if he has known her all her life. “I am here to help. But we must look for answers together, not through anger, but through faith. Through Astra's guidance. And I promise, we will find the truth.”

He steps back, his posture open and inviting, like a shepherd trying to calm a scared flock. “I can help. But you must trust that the road we take will be one of patience and peace. We cannot rush this. Come, let us speak of this calmly, and let me help you. Let me ease your burden.”

His tone is persuasive, persuasive enough to dull the sharpness of the woman’s accusations. She stands there, silent, her face still twisted with anguish, but there’s a flicker of doubt in her eyes—an opening.

“I know it's hard,” Rafayel continues, his hand never leaving her arm, “but I swear on Astra's name, I will do everything in my power to help you. And we will find the answers—together.”

The woman softens, hugging him as she tears up.

“Thank you, Father.”

Father Rafayel’s smile falters just for a moment—so brief that only the sharpest eyes might catch it. It’s a subtle shift, but enough for you to notice. For that fraction of a second, his face twists into something unreadable, and his grip on the woman’s arm tightens ever so slightly, as if disturbed by the closeness of her vulnerability, as if he’s disgusted.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it’s gone. His expression smooths back into that calm, almost pitying demeanor, the one that lures people into trusting him. He takes a slow breath, clearly controlling his reaction, and his eyes soften once again as he gazes down at the woman who now leans into his touch, tears brimming in her eyes.

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, voice soothing, laced with false warmth. His hand remains on her arm, steady, even as his internal discomfort grows. “It’s my duty to guide you.”

But the moment lingers longer than it should, and for a heartbeat, there’s a coldness that creeps up his spine, a reminder of how easily the facade can break.

He gently pulls away, guiding her back toward the rest of the crowd with a practiced ease. “Now, let’s take a moment to breathe, together. Astra will guide us all through this.”

He steps back a fraction, his gaze flickering momentarily to you, as though assessing you for some deeper understanding, before returning to the woman. But that flicker of discomfort is gone, as if it never existed at all.

“Please Father, you too, Sister, come in.”

Father Rafayel’s smile widens, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he steps forward, his movements smooth and assured. He gestures toward you, subtly guiding you behind him as he enters the woman's home. “Thank you, but we must insist. We are here to help.”

You follow in his wake, feeling the air shift as the woman leads you both inside, her voice shaking but insistent. The warm scent of soup still lingers in the air, mixing with the cold, earthy aroma of the house. Rafayel’s hand is still on your back, a gentle, guiding pressure, even though you can sense the undercurrent of his control in every gesture.

As the door shuts behind you, the woman wipes her eyes, now grateful but still fraught with grief. “Please, come sit,” she urges again, her voice softer now, as if the presence of the priest and his gentle authority has given her something to hold onto in her overwhelming sorrow.

You step further in, feeling the tension between you and Rafayel, a quiet hum of awareness between you two, as if there’s more to the moment than the simple exchange of care baskets. The whole scene feels eerily domestic, like you’re merely actors in a play that’s unfolding without you quite understanding the script.

You settle into a seat, glancing up at Rafayel, who already seems at ease. His presence fills the room, effortlessly shifting the energy. "Thank you for your hospitality," he says warmly.

And then he does something truly unexpected.

He grabs the woman’s face.

The room is suffocating as Father Rafayel’s fingers twist and press into the woman’s face. Her eyes bulge, the pupils rolling unnaturally as her body shudders with the struggle to break free. But there’s no escape. His grip tightens further, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her face, pressing her eyes deep into their sockets until—

A sickening crunch echoes through the air, her screams choked by the brutal force. Her body goes rigid, her mouth opening in a silent, grotesque scream, but no sound comes. Her eyes are utterly ruined, blood and fluid leaking from the sockets where his hands had crushed them.

Before you can react, before you can even scream, Rafayel's hand moves again—swift, clean. His fingers snap around the woman’s neck, and in one cruel, efficient motion, the bones snap under his strength. Her body goes limp in his grasp, crumpling in a heap as the life is ripped from her with terrifying ease.

You stand frozen, your throat tight, heart hammering in your chest. The room is dead silent now, except for the faint sound of the woman’s body hitting the ground, her blood pooling beneath her.

Rafayel doesn’t even glance at the corpse at his feet. He straightens up, brushing his hands together nonchalantly, as though he'd simply gotten rid of a bothersome insect.

"See?" he says, his voice low and calm, almost casual. "This is the price of questioning. Disrespecting." He looks at you, his eyes cold and unblinking, like a predator that has just satisfied its hunger. "A lesson in obedience." He kicks the body. “Not even worth drinking from, the damn whore,”

You can barely breathe, your mind reeling, unable to fully comprehend the violence that just unfolded before you.

His gaze turns back to the lifeless woman, a fleeting flicker of something like irritation crossing his face before it's quickly replaced with that eerie calm. “I’ll take care of the body,” he says, not even looking at you. "Come along."

The words don’t register at first. You’re too trapped in the horror of what just happened—the snap of her neck, the crushing of her eyes, the sickening finality of it all.

But you hear his voice again, smooth and unwavering. “It’s over now. Let’s move on.”

You don’t move for a moment, your heart beating slowly.

Rafayel’s gaze flicks to you, his expression unreadable. The air feels heavy, suffocating. The body at his feet—still warm, still oozing—is a silent testament to what he just did. To what he is capable of.

His lips curl, just slightly. “Apologies, Sister,” he says smoothly, taking a step closer. “I did not mean to startle you.”

Your breath is uneven, your body rigid as he moves within arm’s reach. The scent of blood clings to the air, thick and metallic. Your stomach churns violently, and you press a trembling hand to your mouth.

“Breathe,” he murmurs. “We wouldn’t want you fainting now, would we?”

Your vision tunnels. The corpse is there, crumpled like a discarded doll. The woman’s face—what’s left of it—is grotesque, ruined. Her mouth still twisted in an expression of agony she never got to voice.

This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

“You—” Your voice cracks, your throat burning with bile. “You killed her.”

Rafayel exhales through his nose, head tilting as if you had just stated something obvious. “Of course.” He steps around the body, walking toward you with that same composed grace, his expression patient. “She was becoming… a problem.”

Your pulse is deafening in your ears.

“You—” Your words are failing you. Your thoughts are failing you. The bile rises higher. You need to get out of here.

But his hand is already reaching, fingers barely grazing your wrist before you recoil violently.

His eyes darken, just for a moment. “Careful,” he says, voice still impossibly gentle. “Fear is unbecoming of you.”

You stagger another step back, shaking your head. “This—this isn’t right—”

Rafayel sighs as if this is all terribly inconvenient for him. “Sister.” His tone shifts, taking on something firmer. “Compose yourself.”

Your breath comes in shallow, panicked gasps. You’re going to be sick. You are sick.

And yet, the way he watches you—it’s as if he’s enjoying this. Studying your every reaction, memorizing every flicker of horror in your expression.

“Now,” he continues, as if nothing had happened, “we still have work to do.” He gestures to the body with a gloved hand, his fingers flexing absently.

“Shall we?”

“No! We most certainly shall not! You-” “Careful now, sweetheart.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. The way he says it—sweetheart—makes your skin crawl, like something sickly sweet masking poison underneath.

“I—” Your words catch. Your pulse is hammering. You glance down at the woman’s lifeless body, her head lolling unnaturally to the side, sightless eyes ruined and dark. The smell of copper thickens, and your stomach twists.

His voice is low, almost amused, but there’s an edge to it—something warning. “Don’t let that pretty head of yours get ahead of itself.” He steps closer, deliberate, calculated, the heels of his boots clicking softly against the ground. "I'd hate to see you become distressed over a little… inconvenience.”

Your stomach lurches. The bile in your throat burns. “A little inconvenience?” Your voice wavers, barely above a whisper, but the fury is there, tangled with the fear. “You murdered her! She—she didn’t even get to scream—”

Rafayel exhales through his nose, tilting his head slightly, like a teacher watching a foolish student struggle with a simple lesson. “Yes, I suppose that was rather quick of me,” he muses. “Would it have been better if I had let her beg first? Cry a little longer?”

Your body goes ice cold.

His lips curl, a poor imitation of something kind. “You’re shaking.” He reaches again, fingers brushing your elbow, but you wrench away, stumbling back.

He stills.

The moment stretches. The air feels wrong.

Then, his hand lowers, and he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Ah. So you do have some fight in you.” His smile lingers, eyes hooded. “Good. I was beginning to worry you’d crumble too quickly.”

Your heart pounds against your ribs, a desperate, caged thing. “Stay away from me,” you rasp.

His expression doesn’t change. “Sweetheart.” He says it so sweetly, so condescendingly, like he’s scolding a child for throwing a tantrum.

“I own you.”

The words sink into you like teeth, cold and cruel.

Your breath stutters.

“You belong to the church. The church belongs to me.” He watches you carefully, studying every shift in your face. “And what kind of shepherd would I be if I let one of my flock stray too far?”

You don’t realize you’re crying until the salt stings your lips.

He leans in just slightly, enough that his breath ghosts over your ear. “Now… are you going to be good for me?”

His hand tilts your chin up so you face him. A playful smile rests on his face, even reaching his eyes this time- a genuine smile.

You feel the membrane of the woman’s eye on his gloved hand, now on your chin. Your stomach twists violently, revulsion clawing up your throat. The slick, gelatinous smear of ruined flesh clings to your skin, an obscene mockery of what used to be someone’s sight. Father Rafayel hums, watching your reaction like one would observe a butterfly pinned to a board.

“There it is,” he murmurs, almost fondly. His thumb strokes over your jaw, slow and deliberate, smearing the filth further.

His eyes, those eerie irises of blue and pink, gleam with something dark. Something hungry. You choke on a sob, barely able to force words out. “You’re insane—” He tsks, shaking his head as if disappointed. “Now, now. That’s not very kind, is it?” His grip tightens just enough to remind you it’s there. Rafayel hums, tilting his head as if studying a delicate piece of art. His gloved thumb—still damp with the remnants of the woman’s ruined gaze—glides across your cheek. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice rich with amusement.

Your pulse thrums beneath his fingers. He must feel it—how rapid, how unsteady.

“There, there,” he soothes, like he’s comforting a trembling child. “You mustn’t look so horrified.” He leans in, voice dipping lower. Sweeter. “Astra wouldn’t want that, would He?”

You shudder, every nerve in your body screaming at you to run.

But you don’t.

You can’t.

His smile widens, catching the way your eyes dart—searching for an escape that doesn’t exist.

Then, without warning, he releases you. You stagger, your legs nearly giving out beneath you, but he simply watches, hands clasped behind his back, utterly unbothered by the horror he’s just committed.

He flicks his gaze down at his glove—at the remnants of the woman still staining the leather—before pulling it off with a sigh, tossing it onto her still-warm body.

“Now then. Shall we continue?”

He offers his arm, not waiting as he grabbed your own, linking it with his. “Let’s finish our charity.”

So you let him guide you forward, his arm linked with yours in a grotesque parody of companionship. The two of you walk past the cooling body, the scent of blood thick in the air, as Rafayel hums a pleasant little hymn under his breath.

Your body convulses, another wave of sickness ripping through you as you clutch the sides of the basin. The acrid burn of bile scorches your throat, and you gag, spitting out the last remnants of whatever meager meal you had managed earlier.

Your fingers tremble against the porcelain, knuckles white from how tightly you're gripping it. The room spins, the world tilting on its axis, and for a moment, you think you might collapse right there on the cold, stone floor.

The phantom sensation of Rafayel’s touch lingers—his gloved fingers against your chin, the slick, ruined remnants of the woman’s eyes smearing onto your skin. You scrub at your face furiously with your sleeve, but the feeling doesn’t leave. It clings, seeping into your pores, like a stain that refuses to be washed away.

You shudder, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

He had smiled.

He had hummed.

And he had walked away as if nothing had happened.

Another wave of nausea hits you, and you retch again, but there’s nothing left to bring up. Just dry, hollow heaving that leaves your stomach aching and your throat raw.

The world outside continues as if it hasn’t just shifted into something dark and terrible. As if a woman hadn’t just been silenced.

As if you hadn't stood there, frozen in horror, and done nothing.

You can still feel it—him. The icy press of his fingers on your chin, the sickening squelch of ruined flesh, the way he smiled as if he hadn’t just—

A sob chokes out of you, swallowed quickly by another dry heave. Nothing left to expel. Just the raw, hollow ache of terror curling deep in your gut.

The door creaks. Your breath stills.

Boots click against the stone floor, slow, measured steps. A shadow looms over you.

A handkerchief appears in your vision, crisp and clean. “Oh, Sister,” Rafayel sighs, his voice warm with something almost like pity. Almost. “If I knew you had such a weak stomach, I would have warned you.”

The scent of him is wrong—clove and something metallic beneath it, something that lingers too long in your lungs.

The handkerchief dangles between his fingers, an invitation. A mockery.

When you don’t take it, Rafayel hums, shifting ever so slightly. "Come now, Sister. You’ll make yourself sick all over again." His voice is smooth, patient. A priest soothing a distressed flock. A man coaxing something fragile just to watch it break.

You stare at the porcelain, focusing on the tiny cracks running along its edges. Anything but him. Anything but the weight of his gaze pressing against the side of your face.

A sigh. Soft. Disappointed. And then the handkerchief brushes against your cheek.

You flinch.

He works with the precision of a man performing a sacred ritual, slow and methodical as he wipes away the remnants of your sickness. The linen of the handkerchief is soft, but his touch is cold—too cold, even through the fabric.

You should recoil. You want to recoil. But your body won’t move, locked in place by the sheer wrongness of it all.

“There,” Rafayel murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair from your damp forehead. “All better.”

You stare at him, throat tight, heart hammering. He doesn’t seem to mind the fear written across your face. If anything, he looks almost pleased.

He folds the soiled handkerchief neatly and tucks it away like it’s nothing at all.

"Are you well? It didn't trouble you so, did it-" "Get away from me, Father Rafayel."

His expression stills. The ever-present smile remains, but something behind his eyes sharpens, a glint of something dark and unreadable flashing through the blue and pink.

For a moment, he simply watches you. The silence stretches, thick as congealed blood.

Then—

A laugh. Soft, breathy, amused.

“Oh, dear Sister.” He kneels slightly, lowering himself to your level, his head tilting like he’s studying a particularly fascinating insect. “You wound me.”

You press yourself against the cold stone wall, as far from him as possible. Your breathing is shallow, rapid, your pulse a drum against your ribs. He notices. He enjoys it.

Rafayel sighs, straightening again, brushing nonexistent dust from his pristine robes. “You’re upset,” he states plainly. “That’s understandable. But don’t be dramatic. I only did what had to be done.”

Your stomach lurches again.

You turn away, gripping the edges of the basin as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. You can still feel him watching you, like a weight pressing into your spine.

Rafayel exhales, a soft, almost disappointed sigh. “I’ll have Sister Jenna come to collect you.”

It should be a mercy. A reprieve. But the way he says it—so calm, so unbothered—makes your skin crawl. Like you’re a child throwing a tantrum, like your revulsion is inconvenient to him.

His boots click against the stone as he turns to leave. But before he steps out, he pauses.

A beat of silence.

Then—

“I do hope you’ll feel better soon,” he murmurs, and when you finally dare to glance over your shoulder, he’s already gone.

"What's got you so sick lately?" Yvonne and Simone sat on your bed, having decided to stay the night despite the elder sisters firm threats of consequences if anyone was out of their rooms after 9:00 p.m.

You stare at them, trying to piece together an answer—one that won’t make you sound like you’ve lost your mind.

Nothing comes.

Nothing safe, at least.

“Probably just something I ate,” you mumble, forcing a weak smile as you pull your blanket tighter around yourself. “It’ll pass.”

Yvonne hums, unconvinced. “You’re pale as a ghost.”

Simone leans in, scrutinizing your face. “And you’ve barely eaten all day. I mean, I know the soup is garbage, but still.”

You swallow. If you close your eyes, you’ll see it again—the ruined sockets, the twitching fingers, the sound of her neck—

Your stomach turns.

“I’m fine,” you say, a little too quickly. “Just tired.”

Yvonne and Simone exchange a look, and for a terrifying moment, you think they might press further. But then Simone flops back against your pillows with a sigh.

“Well, if you die in the night, I’m taking your blanket,” she announces.

Yvonne snorts. “And I get her pillow.”

It’s quiet for a moment.

Yvonne tilts her head, studying you. "You sure you're not pregnant?" You whip your head toward her, eyes wide with disbelief. "What?!" Simone bursts out laughing, slapping her knee. "She’s got a point! Maybe that’s why Father Rafayel’s been so concerned—" "That is not funny!" you hiss, heat crawling up your neck. "Relax, we're just messing with you," Yvonne grins, nudging your arm. But then she sobers, her gaze searching. "Seriously, though. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. What have the sermons been about?"

Simone and Yvonne exchange a glance.

"Same as always," Yvonne shrugs. "Discipline. Humility. The Vampire."

"Yeah," Simone frowns, pulling at a loose thread on your blanket. "Father Rafayel’s been really fixated on them lately. More than usual. Keeps talking about how they need to be 'understood' before they can be judged. Whatever that means."

You swallow hard, your throat still raw. "Understood?" Simone nods. "Yeah. Like...he’s making it sound like they're not just monsters. That there’s something more to them." Yvonne snorts. "Creepy way to put it, if you ask me." You grip your sheets tightly. Rafayel’s cold fingers on your chin, the wet smear of another person’s ruin against your skin—it all flashes back in an instant. "What else did he say?" Your voice is quieter this time, urgent. Yvonne gives you a curious look. "Why do you care?"

"Cause I'm missing them? We have exams on these if you've forgotten." You point out, coming up with the excuse swiftly. A half lie. Another exam would be coming up in your training to be a nun soon enough.

Simone groans, flopping back onto your bed. "Ugh, don’t remind me. I’d rather scrub the floors of the entire chapel than sit through another exam." Yvonne smirks. "Maybe if you actually paid attention, you wouldn’t have to cram last minute." Simone swats at her. "Shut up, Yvonne."

Forcing a small smile, your fingers are still clenched in the fabric of your sheets. "So? What else did he say?"

Yvonne hums, thinking. "Well...he talked a lot about temptation. Not just the Vampire, but people, too. How those who question too much might lead others astray. How faith should be absolute."

Simone rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, same thing they always say. 'Doubt is the doorway to sin' or whatever." But Yvonne doesn’t look convinced. She shifts, lowering her voice. "It’s not just that. He was watching everyone while he said it. Like he was waiting for someone to react."

A chill creeps up your spine.

You exhale through your nose, keeping your voice steady. "Who reacted?" Yvonne shrugs. "No one. Not openly, at least." Simone huffs. "Not all of us have a death wish, Y/N. You heard what happened to Sister Agnes." Your stomach twists. "What happened to Sister Agnes?" Yvonne and Simone exchange another glance. This time, it’s hesitant. Uneasy. "You…you really haven't heard?" Simone asks quietly.

"No? I've been forced into bed rest for 2 weeks, Simone.I thought she left for the capitol since we hadn't seen her for a month.”

Yvonne scoffs, crossing her arms. "She was supposed to. But then she got sick. Really sick. Fever, coughing up blood, the whole thing."

Simone nods. "Yeah. They quarantined her in the infirmary for a while, but then one day—poof. Gone." She snaps her fingers. "The elders said she must’ve gone to the capital after all. That she recovered enough to travel, but no one saw her leave."

Yvonne sighs. "Probably just left at night. You know how she was—never wanted to make a fuss."

You feel ice creep through your veins. That doesn't make sense. If she had been so ill, how could she have just up and left? No farewells? No word to the sisters she was closest to? It doesn’t sit right with you.

"You're worrying too much, Y/N," Simone chides, nudging your shoulder. "You should be resting, not getting yourself worked up over rumors."

Yvonne smirks. "Yeah. Besides, Father Rafayel would have told us if something was wrong. He always does."

Your throat tightens. You force yourself to nod, though your hands curl into fists beneath your blanket.

Father Rafayel always knows.

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