#it comes off! and they become best friends and they work through their problems!

[okcoolthanks]

How to stop feeling like an awful person after accidentally crossing someone’s boundary even though you talked to them about it and apologized and know you won’t do it again and they understood it was an accident and it’s fine and you two are still on good terms

[hxney-lemcn]

Time for a Break — Housewardens x gn! reader

summery: it's the end of the year and you have nowhere to go...

tw: slight angst (Riddle, Idia, Malleus)

wc: 1.7k (~230 per character)

Master List

With nonstop overblots, exams, homework, studying, and keeping your friends in line, you hadn’t even realized that the end of the year was approaching rapidly. You could barely take in your end of the year grades before coming face to face with the fact that you have nowhere to go while everyone gets a summer break. Didn’t you deserve a break too? You felt like you were going to collapse and evaporate if you didn’t sleep in a bed that doesn’t have lumps. In a fit of despair, you go to the only person you can think of.

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

Okay…so you are not allowed to come home with him. His reason for saying no is vastly different from his mothers reason. He doesn’t want to cause you any more stress, or have to hear his mother’s insults that she’ll inevitably spout towards you. No, instead he helps you ask Trey. Although Trey’s home already is a full house, his family welcomes you with open arms. All his siblings overcrowd you (no matter how much Trey tries to stop them), his parents ask many questions to get to know you better, and you end up sharing a room with Trey. All the while, you can’t help but think about Riddle, wishing you could find a way to get him out of his own personal hell. Over time, you and Trey visit Riddle, your only meetings being through his window. Every so often you’d bring Riddle a sweet treat that you learned how to bake either from Trey or his parents. As much as you enjoy having a break with such a lovely family, you can’t help wanting for the next school year to happen. Not for the school work, or the overblots (hopefully there won’t be any the upcoming year), but because you’ll get to see Riddle again, not through a window or with hushed whispers. But in person, speaking to each other freely once more. 

❥ Leona Kingscholar

When you hinted about not having anywhere to go, hoping that the lion would take the bait and let you stay with him, he just ignored you. Didn’t even pretend to act like he was listening to you. Squinting your eyes, you stood up from his bed, announcing that Malleus might be willing to take you in…you couldn’t get far before Leona grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him and holding you close. Who said you could go and stay with that overgrown lizard? Wasn’t it obvious you were staying with him? You were scared of meeting his family, they were royalty and Leona had spoken bad of them. You had met his nephew, and little did you know that the boy had talked his parents ear off about you and Leona for a day before finding a new topic. Leona’s brother and sister in law welcomed you to their palace with open arms, greeting you warmly before excusing themselves. It was a bit to get used to, trying new foods, sleeping in a bed that was way too luxurious, being treated like royalty, becoming a nanny…yeah. You now realized one of the reasons why Leona dreaded coming back. As much as you adored Cheka…he could be a bit much. Overall, it's not the worst place to stay, but it would feel a bit lonely without Leona or Cheka around. 

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

Oh boy…were you both that far in your relationship already? No? He’s just overthinking it? Okay, this was fine. He was a host after all, and he did owe you for basically saving his life…and being the one he loved. His only problem? His mother. As much as Azul loved his mother…he could not have her sharing his baby photos with you. He’ll have to work overtime over the summer to make sure that doesn’t happen (who is he kidding he can’t say no to his mom). How are you going to stay entire months under water? Who do you think he is? He’s got stocks of underwater breathing potions. When you meet his parents, you don’t have time to think before you’re swooped into a giant hug (probably the best damn hug you’ll ever get too). Then Azul is added to the hug and you're both being squished together. His mother loves you instantly, cooing over you both, feeding you some of the best food you’ve ever had while telling you embarrassing stories of Azul when he was just a little fry. Once again, you start seeing him in a new light, a much softer and loving one. He always tried to show you his gentlemanly and suave side, keeping just how soft of a person he was locked deep down, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

❥ Kalim Al-Asim

What do you mean you have nowhere to go? Weren’t you coming to his place? He would be honored to have you as a guest! Just think of all the sleepovers, dates, game nights, and kisses! Actually, he might’ve gone crazy if he was away from you for such a long time. Kalim’s family doesn’t mind either, they don’t even notice one more person in their extravagant palace. Instead of just being swarmed with siblings, you’ve got cousins and distant relatives around you as well. They have both good and bad intentions, some scheming on how to get closer to Kalim, and others scheming on how to get you to play hide and seek. Kalim is practically bouncing off the walls as he drags you down the halls on his grandiose tour. Laughing heartily over the feast his family calls dinner, then taking you on a breathtaking carpet ride above the Scalding Sands. Each day is a different adventure, and Kalim is the one leading you hand in hand into what awaits you both. Poor Jamil, Kalim only got ten times more impulsive as he tries to show you everything he loves (and buy you anything you eye for a second too long). Also…you are in a bit of danger being seen in public so close to Kalim and with how he shows how much he cares about you…

❥ Vil Schoenheit

Do you think he’d let you stay at Night Raven College for months on end without supervision? You’re crazy. Just be prepared to be in a giant mansion alone for a bit. Vil goes without seeing his father for weeks on end, and he himself has a busy schedule. He’d love to take you with him, but unfortunately the media is as savage as a pack of wolves and would shred you apart without second thought. You didn’t mind too much, as long as you could get away from school for just a minute. With those warnings in mind, you were surprised to be greeted by servants taking your luggage to a spare room (right next to Vil’s) then being treated to a fantastic dinner with Eric, Vil’s father joining you two. Even Vil seemed surprised, asking his father about his latest movie. Eric only laughed, stating that he wanted to meet the person who caught his son's attention. You never felt too alone in the mansion, you’d get ready in the morning with Vil, seeing him off, doing your own thing for the day, and ending the night with a home prepared meal or going out to eat if Vil was feeling extra. On his days off, Vil would take you out, sometimes it would be to a spa, going shopping, or you forcing him to take a break and relax at home and watch some movies. You don’t think you could go back to that wack job of a school after getting a taste of luxury.

❥ Idia Shroud

What. You want to go home with him? You do know where he lives right? You’d be totally isolated from all your other friends…you still want to come home with him? He supposes Ortho would be happy to have you around…fine, he just doesn’t like how excited his parents get when he asks for permission (after all he lives in a very secret location). He’s a bit overwhelmed at first, it seems like such an intimate scenario. You’re going to be living with him in the same house in a super secret base in the middle of nowhere. When you arrive, Idia tries not to shove you into his room and lock the door because his parents are non stop pestering you. Asking you about how you met Idia, how he was doing, and about you and your world. Thankfully for Idia, they had to rush back to work quickly, giving you a warm welcome and telling you to ask for anything if need be. To your surprise, Idia watched you like a hawk (and that’s the times you knew of). S.T.Y.X. was a dangerous place, and he’d be damned if he lost you like he lost Ortho. Be prepared to be trapped in a room lit with blue led lights and playing video games and watching anime until you feel your brain melting. Please bring some vitamin D…you’re not going to get enough sunlight. 

❥ Malleus Draconia

Don’t worry child of man, he already has a room in his palace ready for you. Do you really think he was going to let you stay all alone (with Grim but okay) at Night Raven College? Of course not. You’re his precious child of man, he’ll make sure you get nothing but the best. Of course…he had to make sure his grandmother warmed up to you. You are a human after all, and she hasn’t had the best experience with them. Not to mention how his people will view him for bringing a commoner human into the castle and given the royal treatment. He doesn’t care. In fact, Malleus didn’t even think of such a thing, not until Sebek brought it up. When you arrived you felt overwhelmed as the servants bowed (you almost forgot that Malleus was standing next to you). He tried staying by your side for as long as he could, but as future king, he had many things to attend to. This left you on your own a bit, and you got acquainted with Maleficia. At first she terrified you, but over time you both warmed up to each other and Malleus found himself jealous with how much time you spent with her compared to him. All the while she found it amusing that her grandson was so hung up on a human…but she also found it heartbreaking. A fae falling for a human never had a happy ending, but she’s glad to know you’d take care of him well.

[joelsrose]

Tangled in Paradise

my masterlist here!

Ahhhh here is chapter 1 of my new mini-series!! I am so freakin excited for you guys to read it, i've had so much fun writing it - to everyone waiting for my other stories thanks so much for being patient and i promise i will get to them! enjoy and let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in the next chapters xx

The marble counter was cool against under your skin, a welcome relief from the lingering heat of the day. You perched on the edge, scrolling through your phone with one hand, the other holding a burrito that was rapidly becoming your favorite part of the evening. Mimi, your cat, stretched luxuriously beside you, her fluffy tail flicking in idle disinterest as she basked in the low glow of the kitchen light.

Your thumb idly swiped up, Instagram reels flitting past like a mindless parade. A stupid AI-generated meme caught your attention—something ridiculous but hilarious enough to make you snort, burrito in hand.

The sound of a FaceTime notification cut through your laugh, your phone vibrating in your palm. The screen flashed with Maria’s name, her photo—a sunny candid of her grinning at a picnic—lighting up the display.

You swiped to answer.

Her face appeared, as vibrant and glowing as ever, framed by the golden light of her apartment. “Hey, girl!” she chirped, her voice carrying the kind of energy that made you suspicious.

“Hey, you,” you replied, taking a bite of your burrito mid-sentence. “Shouldn’t you be packing for your honeymoon in Hawaii or something?”

“It’s not a honeymoon,” Maria groaned, her eyes rolling so dramatically they could’ve done a full lap.

“Sure,” you drawled, giving her a knowing look. Maria and Tommy had been dating for a year and a half, and if anyone was going to get engaged in an annoyingly picture-perfect way, it was them. “But seriously,” you added, “don’t you leave in, like, two days?”

“Yeah, about that…” Her voice trailed off, her expression shifting to something between sheepish and conspiratorial.

You froze mid-chew. “Oh no. Are you guys okay? Don’t tell me you—”

“No!” she interrupted, waving her hands at the camera as if to swat the idea away. “God, you’re such a cynic.”

“Cynicism comes with being single,” you shot back, gesturing vaguely to your burrito.

She laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Okay, so here’s the thing,” she said, leaning closer to her screen. “I have… a situation.”

“Go on,” you said, intrigued now.

Her sigh was long and theatrical. “For some reason, I let Tommy book our trip.”

“And?” you prompted, taking another bite.

“And the idiot accidentally booked a couples package,” she said, dragging out the words like they physically pained her.

You blinked, unfazed. “I don’t get it. You guys are a couple.”

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head so fast her hair whipped around her face. “He booked it for two couples. Four people.”

You nearly choked on your burrito, a laugh bursting from your chest. “Classic Tommy,” you said, grinning. “So? What’s the big deal? You’ve got a million couple friends. Pick one.”

“I’ve been asking around!” she huffed. “But everyone already has New Year’s plans, and the package is non-refundable.” She gave you a pointed look, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“Oh no,” you said immediately, holding up a hand. “If this is going where I think it’s going—”

“Would you want to come?” she asked, her tone overly sweet. “You’re my best friend. You’re legally obligated to say yes.”

You stared at her, incredulous. “Maria, in case it wasn’t painfully obvious, I’m single.”

“I know,” she said, rolling her eyes. “That’s why Tommy was going to ask his brother Joel to come along. That makes four people. Problem solved.”

You paused, brow furrowing. “Joel, huh?”

Maria nodded eagerly.

You thought about it for a moment. Joel. You didn’t know much about him—just snippets from Maria here and there. He worked with Tommy in construction, lived in Texas. You didn't even know what he looked like.

“I don’t know…” you hedged.

“Oh, come on,” Maria whined. “You’re not doing anything for New Year’s, and you know it. You’re just gonna sit at home, watch Bridget Jones’s Diary, and drink cheap wine with Mimi like you do every year.”

You glanced at Mimi, who stretched lazily, her tail flicking as if to agree. Maria wasn’t wrong.

“Plus,” she continued, her grin widening, “once we get there, you guys can do whatever you want. Hawaii! Beaches, cocktails, hot guys—live your best life.”

You sighed, the temptation starting to outweigh your resistance. A free trip to Hawaii with your best friend? Sand, sun, and maybe a chance to flirt your way into a memorable New Year’s Eve?

“Prettyyyyy please?” Maria hummed, drawing out the word in a way that made you laugh despite yourself.

“Okay,” you said finally, shaking your head. “I’m in.”

Maria let out a squeal of victory, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re the best! I’ll text you the details. Pack something cute!”

As the call ended, you set your phone down and looked at Mimi, who yawned lazily in response.

“Well,” you said, leaning back on the counter. “Looks like we’re skipping Bridget Jones this year.”

Hawaii, you thought. The idea felt distant, unreal. But as you glanced at the empty corner of your apartment where your suitcase sat gathering dust, you had a feeling this trip might just change more than your New Year’s plans.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

Hawaii was breathtaking. The kind of beauty that made you forget how much your neck hurt from the long flight or how unreasonably sweaty you felt in the tropical heat.

You leaned your head against the open window of the taxi, letting the warm wind tangle through your hair as you gazed out at the scenery. Endless shades of green blanketed the mountains in the distance, framed by the electric blue of the ocean stretching out to the horizon. Palm trees lined the road like an army of dancers frozen mid-sway, their fronds whispering in the breeze.

Maria sat beside you, her voice animated as she gave Tommy a play-by-play update on your whereabouts. “Yep, we’re just pulling in now,” she said, twisting her body slightly to look at the approaching hotel. “Alright, bye, love you!”

You turned to her, sticking a finger down your throat in mock disgust.

“Shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes but smiling anyway.

The taxi turned into a long driveway lined with torch-lit paths and vibrant hibiscus flowers in full bloom. As the hotel came into view, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning closer to the window.

It was like something out of a movie—a sprawling, open-air building with white stucco walls, wooden beams, and a terracotta-tiled roof. The entrance was framed by a massive archway, beyond which you could see a lush courtyard with fountains trickling water that sparkled in the sunlight.

A uniformed staff member waved the taxi forward, and your jaw nearly dropped as you took in the full view. The lobby was entirely open, its vaulted ceilings soaring toward the sky. Just beyond it, you could glimpse the infinity pool that seemed to spill directly into the ocean. The smell hit you next—salt air mixed with plumeria and something faintly sweet, like coconut.

“This is insane,” you said under your breath.

Maria beamed. “Right? This is so much better than the photos.”

The taxi slowed to a stop, and the driver hopped out to help you with your luggage. You tipped him generously and offered a polite “Mahalo,” feeling strangely self-conscious about whether you pronounced it right.

“Tommy already checked us in, so we can go straight to our room!” Maria practically bounced on her toes as she grabbed her carry-on. “Eeeeek, I’m so excited!”

“Me too,” you said with a grin, taking it all in. “And to think, you’ll be leaving here engaged.”

“Hey,” she said, giving you a mock glare. “Don’t jinx it.”

As you approached the entrance, a small group of staff members greeted you with warm smiles. A woman wearing a flowy dress in bright tropical prints stepped forward, holding a pair of leis made of fresh flowers. She draped one around Maria’s neck first, then yours, the cool petals brushing your collarbone as she said, “Aloha, and welcome.”

“Aloha,” you replied awkwardly, still feeling like an outsider in this slice of paradise.

Another staff member offered you both chilled glasses of pineapple juice, the condensation slicking your fingers. You took a sip and practically melted. It was fresh and sweet, with just the right amount of tartness.

“This is heaven,” Maria whispered as you followed the bellhop toward the elevator.

You couldn’t argue with her.

Everything about this place felt surreal—the golden light filtering through the palms, the faint hum of ukulele music from somewhere in the distance, and the soft roar of waves crashing against the shore. It was the kind of place where time seemed to slow down, urging you to forget the rest of the world existed.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

“So,” Maria began, standing beside you in the elevator, glancing down at her phone. “Since it’s already…” she trailed off, squinting at the screen. “Five o’clock, how about we settle in, freshen up, and then have dinner around 6:30?”

“Sounds good,” you agreed, leaning back against the elevator wall, the faint scent of hibiscus and sea salt lingering in the air.

The elevator chimed softly, announcing your arrival at the designated floor.

You followed her as she led the way down the long, carpeted corridor, passing room numbers etched into sleek gold plaques.

“Aha!” she exclaimed, stopping in front of Room 712. “This is us.”

Us? you thought, a flicker of confusion crossing your face. But you let it slide, figuring she meant she and Tommy.

Maria slipped the key card into the slot with a practiced flourish, and the door opened with a soft click. You stepped in behind her, expecting a hotel room. Maybe a nice one—Maria had said Tommy splurged—but this wasn’t a room.

It was a suite.

No, not just a suite—a goddamn palace disguised as a hotel suite.

Your breath hitched as you took it all in. The entryway alone was larger than your living room back home, its polished marble floors gleaming under warm recessed lighting. Beyond it, the suite opened into an expansive living space with floor-to-ceiling windows that framed an unbroken view of the turquoise ocean. Sheer white curtains swayed gently in the breeze from the open balcony doors, where plush loungers and a private hot tub overlooked the horizon.

To your left, an oversized sectional couch sat in front of a sleek flat-screen TV, its armrest stacked with neatly folded, resort-branded towels. To your right, a dining table made of dark, glossy wood was set for four, complete with fresh flowers and an ice bucket chilling a bottle of champagne.

“Shit, Maria,” you breathed, turning to her with wide eyes. “This is insane.”

“I know!” she squealed, grabbing your hands and bouncing up and down like a kid at Christmas. “We’re gonna have the best time!”

You were about to ask where you’d be staying when a familiar voice cut through the moment.

“Hey, baby,” Tommy called, appearing from one of the adjacent rooms. He grinned as he walked over, pulling Maria into a hug and kissing her lightly on the lips. “I thought I heard you. How was the flight?”

“Good,” she replied, resting her head briefly against his shoulder before pulling back to gesture around the suite. “This is incredible, Tommy.”

“Yeah, guess I didn’t fuck up too bad, huh?” he said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, but her smile softened.

Tommy’s gaze shifted to you, his grin widening. “Hey, darlin’. How’ve you been?”

You returned his smile as he pulled you into a friendly hug, the scent of sunscreen and a hint of aftershave clinging to him.

“Good, Tommy. You?”

“Better now that I’m in fucking Hawaii,” he said with a laugh, gesturing around dramatically.

You laughed, too, feeling some of the tension from the long day begin to melt away. Tommy had always been easy to like—funny, respectful, and completely devoted to Maria. He had that older brother vibe with you, always quick to check in and make you laugh when you needed it.

“So,” you said, glancing around. “Do I have a room key or something?”

Maria and Tommy exchanged a quick glance, his arm still draped casually around her shoulders.

“Oh,” Tommy said, scratching the back of his neck as he turned to Maria. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Tell me what?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, the first twinges of unease creeping in.

Tommy gestured around the suite. “This is it. The suite. We’re all staying here. There are two big rooms—come on, I’ll show you!”

Before you could even react, Tommy had slipped his arm around yours, steering you further into the space like an overenthusiastic tour guide.

“Maria—” you started, but he was already pointing things out.

“Look at this place!” Tommy exclaimed, his voice brimming with the kind of excitement that made it hard to stay mad at him. He pointed at the sprawling living room like a proud real estate agent. “Big-ass TV, private balcony, minibar—it’s nuts. And wait ‘til you see the bedrooms. King-sized beds, the works.”

You shot a quick glance over your shoulder, catching Maria hovering by the door. She met your glare with a sheepish shrug, mouthing a silent sorry, her lips curving into an awkward half-smile.

Sorry? That was all she had to say?

Tommy was already leading you deeper into the suite, his arm draped comfortably around yours, blissfully unaware of the rising irritation simmering beneath your polite nods.

“Over here’s the kitchen,” Tommy said, gesturing to a sleek, open-concept area with dark wood cabinets, marble countertops, and stainless steel appliances that gleamed like they’d never been touched. “I mean, not that we’re cooking or anything, but still—pretty sweet, huh?”

You nodded absently, still reeling from the revelation that this wasn’t just their setup—it was your setup, too.

“And here,” Tommy said, stopping in front of a door, “is one of the bedrooms.” He swung it open with a flourish.

The room was absurdly gorgeous. A king-sized bed dominated the space, dressed in crisp white linens with a soft, seafoam-green throw draped across the foot. The headboard was made of rich, dark wood, its edges carved with delicate floral patterns that gave the room an understated elegance. Floor-to-ceiling windows opened to a private balcony, where you could already hear the gentle crash of waves in the distance.

“Not bad, huh?” Tommy grinned, leaning against the doorframe.

“Not bad?” you echoed, unable to hide the hint of sarcasm in your tone. “Tommy, this is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously awesome,” he corrected, winking.

You let out a breath, forcing a smile as you turned back toward the living room. Maria was still hovering by the door, clearly trying to avoid eye contact.

“Maria,” you hissed, your voice low but sharp as you made your way over to her.

She plastered on an innocent smile. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” you whispered, glancing back to make sure Tommy wasn’t listening. “You didn’t think to mention we’re all staying in the same suite?”

She shrugged again, this time with exaggerated nonchalance. “I didn’t think it was a big deal! The place is huge. You’ll hardly even notice.”

“Hardly notice?” you repeated, your voice rising slightly before you caught yourself. You took a calming breath, lowering your tone again. “Maria, I thought I’d have my own room. My own space.”

“You do have your own space!” she insisted, gesturing toward the suite with a grin. “Look around—it’s basically a mansion. And Tommy said the other bedroom is just as nice as this one.”

“Maria,” you started, pinching the bridge of your nose.

She cut you off with a dramatic sigh, stepping closer to loop her arm through yours. “Look, I know this isn’t what you were expecting, but come on. It’s Hawaii. The suite is incredible. We’re gonna have an amazing time.”

“I didn’t realize me and Joel would be sharing a fucking room together!” you hissed, keeping your voice low but sharp.

Maria waved a dismissive hand, her expression almost too breezy. “It’s fine. Joel’s a gentleman. He’ll sleep on the couch or something.”

“Oh, so I’ll just be the bitch who forced a man to sleep on a couch during his vacation?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Maria winced, but only slightly. “You’re being dramatic.”

You raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Am I?”

She stepped forward, placing her hands on your shoulders, her expression softening into the kind of pout that had gotten her out of trouble since you were in college. “Please,” she murmured, drawing out your name like a plea. “It’ll be fine. Joel’s easygoing. And think about it—how much time are you really gonna spend in the room? You’ll barely even notice.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but she cut you off again. “Plus,” she added, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, “I’m getting engaged this week. You can deal with this, right? For meee?”

Her eyes were wide and imploring, and despite every bone in your body wanting to say no, the guilt crept in like an uninvited guest. You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair.

She was right. You could deal with it. Worst-case scenario, you’d take the damn couch yourself. It was a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things… right?

“Okay,” you said finally, the word coming out like a reluctant exhale. “Okay. Yeah. Fine.”

Maria’s face lit up like the Fourth of July. “You’re the best! I owe you one,” she said, pulling you into a quick, triumphant hug.

“Oh, you owe me big,” you muttered, your voice muffled against her shoulder.

She pulled back, grinning. “I promise, this is gonna be the best trip ever. You’ll see.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You stepped into the room you’d be sharing with Joel and let out a long sigh. It was gorgeous, of course, just like the rest of the suite—spacious, luxurious, and dripping with the kind of elegance that made you feel like an imposter just by being there.

The centerpiece was a king-sized bed that dominated the room, its crisp white linens layered with soft, seafoam-green pillows that practically begged you to sink into them.

A pair of matching nightstands flanked the bed, each topped with sleek glass lamps that cast a warm, inviting glow. Across from the bed, a low, polished dresser supported a large flat-screen TV, and the far wall was made entirely of glass, leading out to a private balcony. Through the sliding doors, you could see the ocean stretching endlessly, the sound of waves crashing faintly in the distance.

It was beautiful. It was serene. And it was yours… and Joel’s.

Sharing a room with a stranger wasn’t exactly how you imagined this trip starting, but it wasn’t like you could back out now.

You smoothed down your clothes and stepped out into the suite’s living room. The evening light poured through the massive windows, painting the space in shades of gold and orange. Maria and Tommy were curled up on the couch together, her head resting on his chest as they laughed softly at something he’d said.

“Hey, lovebirds,” you called, leaning against the arm of the couch.

“Hey!” Maria greeted you with a bright smile, sitting up slightly while Tommy offered you a quick nod.

“So, uh…” you began, shifting awkwardly. “Is Joel—?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tommy said, interrupting you as he sat up straighter. “The idiot missed his flight.” He shook his head, though there was no real malice in his voice, only amusement. “But he’ll be here soon.”

“Ah,” you said, nodding. “Okay. I think I’m gonna take a shower in the meantime.”

“Alright,” Maria replied, stretching her legs out across Tommy’s lap.

But just as you turned to head back to your room, Tommy’s voice stopped you.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his tone softening as you glanced back. “I think you two will really get along.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” he continued, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “I know it’s a weird situation—sharing a room and all—but Joel’s… he’s a good guy.”

You nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond but unable to stop the flicker of curiosity sparking in your chest.

“Well,” you said finally, “I guess we’ll see.”

Tommy grinned, leaning back into the couch as Maria nestled closer to him.

You turned and headed for your room, the sound of waves and the low murmur of their voices fading behind you. As you closed the door, you couldn’t help but glance at the bed again. Sharing a room might be awkward, sure—but it might also be the most interesting part of this trip.

And something told you that Joel Miller wasn’t the kind of man you could easily forget.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The shower was as luxurious as the rest of the suite, a spa-like haven of sleek stone tiles in earthy tones that stretched from floor to ceiling. The water cascaded from a wide, rain-style showerhead above, warm and steady, like a soothing tropical downpour.

Built-in shelves held miniature bottles of fragrant shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, each scented faintly of coconut and vanilla. Soft recessed lighting bathed the space in a warm glow, and a small, fog-free mirror was cleverly positioned above a polished stainless-steel bench.

You hummed softly, the sound mingling with the rhythmic patter of water as you worked shampoo through your hair. The gentle steam wrapped around you like a cocoon, loosening the knots in your muscles and leaving your skin dewy and warm.

This was paradise, you thought, your hands scrubbing at your scalp. For the first time in months—years, maybe—you felt truly relaxed. No deadlines, no responsibilities, just the soothing rush of water and the faint scent of the ocean wafting through the cracked bathroom window.

“Hey!” Maria’s voice rang out from the living room, muffled by the sound of the shower.

You turned the water pressure down just enough to hear her better. “Yeah?”

“Tommy and I are gonna head out and grab a coffee. Do you want anything?”

“Ooh! An iced vanilla latte please!” you shouted back, your voice echoing slightly off the tiled walls.

“Got it!” she called. “We’ll lock up behind us.”

“Okay!” you yelled, adjusting the temperature slightly.

A soft click of the door signaled their departure, the quiet settling over the suite like a warm blanket. You were alone now, the world outside reduced to the distant hum of waves and the steady rhythm of water hitting the tiles.

You sighed, working conditioner through the ends of your hair, letting the tension in your shoulders melt away. This was perfect. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this kind of peace—a moment entirely yours, untouched by worry or distraction.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The bathroom was warm and hazy with steam, the scent of coconut and vanilla lingering in the air as you wrapped a fluffy white towel around yourself. Your hair dripped in lazy rivulets down your back, and you ran a hand through it, reveling in the feeling of complete relaxation. This was bliss.

You barely registered the muffled sound of the suite door opening, or the faint, low rumble of a man’s voice calling, “Tommy?” from the living room. Even if you had, it would have been drowned out by your impassioned rendition of Smooth Operator, your voice echoing off the bathroom tiles as you gave yourself over to the moment.

Joel Miller—unknowingly your temporary roommate—entered the shared room with his eyes glued to his phone, his brow furrowed in mild annoyance. His thumb scrolled idly as he typed out a text to Tommy, Where the hell are you? He muttered something to himself under his breath, the deep, low timbre of his voice carrying a faint Texas drawl.

Completely oblivious, he walked toward the bed, not noticing the neatly folded pile of your clothes sitting on top of it, or your travel bag perched on the dresser. His focus was laser-sharp on the glowing screen in his hand, his frustration apparent in the slight clench of his jaw and the furrow of his dark brows.

You didn’t hear him.

He didn’t see you.

Not until you pushed the bathroom door open, a plume of steam rolling out ahead of you as you stepped into the main room.

And there he was.

Standing by the bed, his broad shoulders filling the space as effortlessly as the sunlight spilling in from the balcony. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his scruff-lined jaw shifted as he frowned down at his phone. He was gorgeous.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

Joel, still engrossed in whatever was on his screen, didn’t notice you at first. Then, slowly, his head lifted—like he sensed your presence—and his eyes landed on you.

The moment stretched, silent and charged.

And then you screamed.

Like, actually screamed.

Joel jumped, his phone nearly slipping from his hand as his wide eyes shot up to meet yours. “Jesus Christ!” he barked, his voice rough and sharp, like gravel. “What the hell—”

“What the hell?” you shrieked back, clutching your towel tighter as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

Joel held up his hands, palms out in a gesture of surrender, his phone dangling precariously between his fingers. “Hey, easy! I—” His words faltered as his gaze flickered—briefly, too briefly—to the towel clinging to your body before snapping back to your face. His cheeks flushed slightly, though his tone remained gruff. “I didn’t know you were… here.”

“You didn’t know?” you sputtered, taking a defensive step back toward the bathroom door. “What are you even doing in my room?”

Joel frowned, gesturing vaguely at the space around him. “Your room? Pretty sure this is my room too.”

Your jaw dropped, words failing you for a moment as your mind scrambled to process the situation. “You—you’re Joel?”

His brow lifted slightly, his mouth twitching into what might have been a smirk if the situation weren’t so absurd. “That’d be me,” he said, his voice dipping lower.

You groaned, dragging a hand down your damp face. “Of course. Of course this is how I meet you.”

Joel crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the edge of the bed as he regarded you with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Look, didn’t mean to scare you, alright? Figured this room was empty when I didn’t see Tommy’s stuff.”

“Well, it’s not empty,” you shot back, your cheeks burning. “Clearly.”

“Yeah, I got that now,” he said dryly, his lips quirking into something dangerously close to a smile. His gaze flickered briefly to the bathroom door, then back to you, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “You, uh… wanna put on some clothes before we keep yellin’ at each other?”

Your face burned, heat flooding your cheeks as the reality of the situation hit you. You were still standing there, dripping wet and wrapped in nothing but a towel, completely exposed in every possible way.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, tightening your grip on the towel.

His eyebrows shot up, and damn it, he looked smug about it. That stupid little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that only made him seem more amused.

Before you could say anything else—or throw something at him—Tommy burst into the room, Maria trailing close behind, both of them wide-eyed and holding coffee cups.

“Hey!” Tommy shouted, his voice loud and panicked. “Are you alright? We heard screaming—”

He froze mid-sentence, his gaze bouncing between you, half-naked and flushed, and Joel, standing entirely too casually by the bed.

Maria’s hand flew to her mouth, barely stifling a laugh as she took in the scene, her eyes dancing with poorly concealed amusement.

“Maria!” you snapped, your voice a sharp plea as you clutched the towel tighter around you.

Tommy, meanwhile, didn’t miss a beat. He grinned, his worry evaporating in an instant as he stepped toward Joel. “Hey, big bro,” he said, pulling Joel into a quick hug, completely unfazed by the tension in the room.

“Hey,” Joel replied, his voice smooth and easy, like this whole situation wasn’t absolutely mortifying.

“How was your flight?” Tommy asked, stepping back as if this were the most normal reunion in the world.

“Good,” Joel said, shrugging as he turned to Maria. He leaned down to kiss her cheek, his tone softening just slightly. “Hey, Maria.”

You stood there, utterly stunned, your mouth slightly open as the three of them exchanged greetings like you weren’t standing there, soaking wet and humiliated in the middle of the room. It was laughable. It was absurd.

Maria caught your desperate look and cleared her throat, nudging Tommy. “We should, uh…”

“Right,” Tommy agreed, glancing at the coffees in his hands. “We should get outta your hair.”

Joel, however, didn’t move right away. His gaze flicked back to you, slow and deliberate, his dark eyes dragging over you in a way that felt both infuriating and electric. He tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening.

“See you soon, roomie,” he drawled, the emphasis on the word sending a jolt of annoyance through you. He finished with a wink that made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t care to analyze.

You barely managed to hold back a growl as he turned and followed Tommy and Maria out of the room, their laughter trailing behind them. The door clicked shut, leaving you standing there, still clutching your towel and feeling like the universe’s favorite punchline.

“Great,” you muttered to yourself, glaring at the door. “This is just great.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, staring at the crisp white linens like they might hold the answer to your predicament. For thirty long minutes, you debated your options, none of which seemed remotely appealing.

Option one: walk out there and pretend like nothing happened, even though Joel’s smug face was now burned into your memory. Option two: stay in this room for the rest of the vacation, surviving on room service and spite. Option three: book a flight home and disappear into the dead of night, leaving Maria to deal with the fallout of her matchmaking debacle.

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands.

Your phone buzzed, the soft ding breaking the silence. You picked it up, already bracing yourself.

Maria: You gonna come out or stay in there forever?

You sighed heavily, typing back a quick response. You: Maria, this is so embarrassing.

Her reply came almost immediately. Maria: It’s not. Can Joel come and get settled? The poor guy.

Poor guy? Was she kidding? Poor you!

You sighed again, the sound loud and dramatic even to your own ears. Fine. If Joel needed to get into the room so badly, you weren’t going to be the one standing in his way. You: Yes. He can.

Maria’s response came with an infuriating kissy-face emoji that made you want to hurl your phone across the room.

A sharp knock on the door startled you out of your spiraling thoughts.

And then the knock came again. And again. And again.

You rolled your eyes, standing up and calling out, “Yes?”

“Hey, it’s Joel,” his voice came from the other side of the door, deep and slightly muffled. He kept knocking.

Still knocking.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes,” you shouted, exasperated.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Are you clothed?”

You threw your hands in the air, your irritation bubbling over. “Jesus Christ!”

He laughed softly through the door, the sound aggravatingly charming.

You stormed to the door and yanked it open, ready to let him have it—but the words caught in your throat when you saw him. Joel stood there, hand still raised mid-knock, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was leaning slightly against the doorframe, his broad shoulders filling the space effortlessly, and the playful glint in his eyes told you he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Just makin’ sure,” Joel said, his tone easy as his gaze flicked over you, his eyes pausing briefly on your flushed cheeks before settling on yours. There was a teasing glint in his expression, the kind that made your pulse do a little stumble.

You stood there, arms crossed, doing your best to meet his gaze without faltering.

He tilted his head slightly, his brow lifting as he watched you.

“What?” you asked, your voice sharp, defensive.

“You’re, uh…” he gestured toward the doorframe with a small tilt of his chin, “kinda in the way.”

“Oh.” You blinked, flustered, before stepping aside. “Come in.”

Joel stepped past you, his eyes scanning the room with a low whistle. “This place is insane,” he said, his voice warm with genuine awe. “Fuckin’ worlds away from Texas.”

You almost smiled, thankful he didn’t make the whole towel incident more awkward than it already was.

He turned to you then, leaning casually against the edge of the dresser, his arms crossing over his chest. “So,” he began, his voice dipping into something dangerously close to playful. “I see you claimed the right side of the bed.”

“Is that a problem?” you shot back, mirroring his crossed arms with your own.

“Nah.” Joel shook his head, his lips quirking into that same infuriating smirk. “I should be closest to the door anyway.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“In case a murderer comes in,” he said simply, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What the hell?” you asked, staring at him.

“What?” He gave you a look, like you were the one being unreasonable. “Us men gotta think about these things.”

You were about to reply—maybe point out how absurd he sounded—but the words died on your tongue as Joel casually reached behind his neck, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and shrugged it off in one smooth motion.

Your breath caught.

He stood there, completely unbothered, the golden light from the balcony casting shadows across the toned muscles of his chest. His skin was sun-kissed, his shoulders broad and strong, with a faint trail of dark hair running down his stomach. It was like something out of a magazine—effortless, masculine, and almost unbearably unfair.

You gulped, suddenly forgetting how words worked.

Joel caught your stare, his mouth twitching into that damn smirk again. “What’re you doin’?” you managed, your voice higher than you intended.

“What does it look like?” he replied, tossing his shirt onto the back of a chair like he owned the place. “Seriously, if you’re gonna freak out every time I take my shirt off, we’re gonna have a problem.”

You blinked at him, floundering for a response.

“We’re in Hawaii,” he added, gesturing vaguely toward the balcony as if to drive his point home.

“I know that,” you snapped, crossing your arms tighter, though the heat rushing to your face wasn’t helping your case.

Joel grinned, shaking his head as he grabbed a towel from the dresser. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he said, his tone light, teasing, like this was all some game he was enjoying far too much.

You stood there for a moment after Joel disappeared into the bathroom, the faint click of the door echoing through the room. It was ridiculous how your heart was racing, how the heat lingering in your cheeks wouldn’t budge no matter how many deep breaths you took.

You shook your head, muttering to yourself as you crossed the room. “Unbelievable. Insufferable.” You tossed a glance at the bathroom door, half-expecting Joel to stick his head out and throw another one of those infuriating comments your way. But all you could hear was the sound of the shower turning on, the steady stream of water muffling whatever he might be saying to himself in there.

You tried to focus on something else, anything else. You unpacked a few things, neatly folding your clothes into the dresser drawers, your movements quick and sharp. But your mind refused to stay on task, wandering back to the way Joel had just… shrugged off his shirt like it was nothing. Like he didn’t notice—or care—how good he looked doing it.

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you shoved the last of your shirts into the drawer. You’d met plenty of flirty guys before, but there was something about Joel—something about the way he seemed so at ease, so himself, that made him impossible to ignore.

The bathroom door opened, and Joel stepped out, a cloud of steam following him like it was part of his aura. He was shirtless, of course, a white towel slung casually around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His damp hair curled slightly at the ends, darker now that it was wet, and he was rubbing the back of his neck as though he hadn’t just walked out looking like a whole damn Calvin Klein ad.

You froze, your hand still on the drawer handle, and for the briefest second, you considered looking away. But Joel caught your gaze before you could, his lips curving into that easy, teasing grin.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your unpacking,” he said, his tone warm and playful. “Figured you’d need the bathroom soon.”

“I—uh—yeah,” you stammered, mentally kicking yourself for how pathetic that sounded.

Joel’s grin widened, and he leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “Y’know,” he drawled, “you don’t have to look so nervous. I don’t bite.” He paused, tilting his head slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Unless you’re into that.”

Your mouth fell open, and you snapped it shut again almost immediately. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, pushing past him toward the bathroom.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of amber and crimson, its golden light filtering into your room through the slightly ajar door leading to the suite’s main balcony. From outside, you could hear Maria, Tommy, and Joel’s voices carrying on the ocean breeze—easy laughter and teasing banter.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, your back resting against the edge of the bed. The large mirror propped in front of you reflected your half-done makeup, the bronzer brush in your hand hovering mid-air as you muttered a curse under your breath. You were running late—distracted by the events of the afternoon.

Behind you, the bed was a mess of organized chaos: two dresses—one slinky and black, the other vibrant red—lay sprawled across the sheets, along with a carefully chosen collection of jewelry. Your music played softly from your phone on the floor, and you hummed along absentmindedly between swipes of blush.

What you didn’t notice was the sound of the balcony door sliding open, or the way Joel sauntered into the room like he had all the time in the world.

He wore a pale linen shirt, unbuttoned at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, paired with beige shorts that hung low on his hips. The soft golden light of the setting sun kissed his skin, highlighting the faint sheen of the humid evening air. His hair was perfectly tousled, like he’d just run his fingers through it, and he carried two beers in hand, the bottles clinking softly as he moved.

“Hey,” he said casually, his deep drawl breaking through your concentration as he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed behind you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

You jumped slightly, your eyes darting to the mirror where you caught his reflection. Your gaze locked with his, and for a moment, the air in the room felt heavier, smaller. “Hey,” you replied, suddenly hyper-aware of the blush brush in your hand and the faint flush already spreading across your cheeks.

Joel leaned back slightly, one elbow propped on the mattress, his expression easy but his eyes sharp as he studied you. “Didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said with a faint grin, holding out one of the beers. “Beer?”

You shook your head quickly, turning back to the mirror and dabbing more blush onto your cheeks, as if that could somehow cool the warmth rising to your face. “Oh, no thank you. Can’t stand the taste of beer.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, twisting the cap off one of the bottles with practiced ease. “Can’t stand it?”

You laughed softly, glancing at him through the mirror. “Nope. I don’t get how anyone likes it.”

He chuckled, taking a swig before setting the untouched bottle on the nightstand. “Guess that means more for me.”

The silence between you settled, not awkward but charged, the kind of silence that felt heavy with words unspoken. Joel’s gaze drifted to the bed beside him, his fingers brushing over the fabric of the red dress before he glanced back at you.

“So,” he began, his tone teasing but gentle. “Which one are you plannin’ on?”

Your hand froze mid-swipe, and you turned to face him fully, your lips parting slightly. “I, uh…” You looked between him and the dresses, suddenly feeling shy under his steady gaze.

Joel tilted his head, his grin shifting into something softer, more crooked. “C’mon, roomie. You gotta pick. Red or black?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I was leaning toward the black one,” you admitted, though you weren’t entirely sure why you felt the need to explain.

Joel nodded thoughtfully, his fingers brushing the fabric of the red dress again before he picked it up, holding it out as though inspecting it more closely. “Black’s classy. Safe,” he said slowly, his voice quieting. “But…” He paused, swallowing hard enough that you noticed. “I think red.” His usual confidence faltered for a fleeting moment, his gaze flickering to you briefly before returning to the dress. “Red would look, uh… really good.”

Something in his voice—almost awkward, but sincere—made your chest tighten. “Okay,” you said softly, turning back to the mirror before the moment stretched too long. “I’ll think about it.”

Joel nodded, setting the dress back down just as your timer went off on your phone. You swore softly, rushing to finish your blush. “Shit, I swear I’m almost done,” you said, glancing at Joel apologetically.

Joel stayed exactly where he was, his gaze still on you in the mirror, his voice warm and easy. “Hey,” he said. “Take your time. We’re not in a hurry.”

You hesitated, meeting his eyes through the reflection. “You sure? I don’t want to hold everyone up.”

Joel shook his head, his grin softening. “We’re in Hawaii. Ain’t no rules about bein’ late here. Besides, worth the wait.”

Your chest tightened again, and this time, you couldn’t quite hide the faint smile pulling at your lips. “Thanks,” you murmured.

“No problem,” Joel replied, leaning back on his hands. “I’ll, uh, let you get ready.”

His gaze caught on something on the bed, and he reached out, picking up the delicate necklace you’d set aside. “Oh. Did you need help with this?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you said quickly, shaking your head.

“It’s really no problem,” Joel said, already standing and crouching down behind you.

The warmth of him was immediate, his presence so close that you swore you could feel the faint brush of his breath against your neck. “Here,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “Hold still.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you lifted your hair, exposing the back of your neck. Joel’s fingers were surprisingly gentle as he fastened the clasp, his touch lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

“There,” he said, his voice soft as his hands dropped back to his sides.

You turned slightly, catching his gaze in the mirror. His eyes lingered on yours, and for a moment, neither of you said a word.

“Perfect,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Thanks.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The hotel grounds were even more breathtaking at night. The warm glow of lanterns lined the stone pathways, their soft light spilling onto lush tropical plants and casting flickering shadows on the ground. The air was thick with the mingling scents of saltwater and frangipani, and somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore carried through the warm breeze.

Maria and Tommy walked ahead of you, their hands interlocked, their laughter soft and easy. Maria wore a flowing emerald-green dress that seemed to shimmer as she moved, her hair styled in loose waves that framed her glowing face. Tommy leaned toward her as she said something, his smile wide and unrestrained as he brushed a kiss against her temple. They looked like something out of a postcard—effortlessly in love and perfectly matched.

You and Joel followed behind, your steps falling into an unspoken rhythm. His hands were tucked casually into the pockets of his shorts, the rolled sleeves of his linen shirt revealing the golden tan of his forearms. The easy sway of his stride gave him an air of confidence that felt completely natural, like he didn’t even realize the effect he had on people—or maybe he did, and just didn’t care.

As you passed beneath an arch of twinkling string lights, Joel glanced over at you, his dark eyes catching the light for a brief moment before his lips curved into a small, knowing smile.

“So,” he drawled, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “You listened to me, huh?”

You glanced up at him, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

He nodded subtly toward your dress, the red fabric clinging to your figure in all the right ways. “The red,” he said, his grin turning slightly crooked. “Told you it’d look good.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, the heat crawling up your neck despite the cool evening breeze. You glanced down at the dress, brushing invisible lint off the fabric as you tried to steady your voice. “Thanks,” you said lightly, tilting your head just enough to give him a sidelong glance. “Guess you’ll be my fashion advisor for the trip.”

Joel chuckled, the sound low and rich, like a melody you didn’t realize you wanted to hear on repeat.

“Careful now,” he said, leaning closer as his voice dropped just a fraction. “You let me make too many decisions, and next thing you know, I’ll have you in cowboy boots and denim shorts.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Not a chance.”

“Never say never, roomie,” he teased, his grin widening as his arm brushed yours for a fleeting moment.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence for a few beats, your steps in sync as you followed the soft glow of lanterns illuminating the path. Maria and Tommy’s laughter floated back to you from up ahead, their silhouettes framed by the soft flicker of string lights.

“So,” Joel said after a moment, leaning slightly toward you as though he were sharing some grand secret. “Tommy thinks Maria has no clue he’s gonna propose.”

You glanced up at him, your brow furrowing. “Seriously?”

Joel nodded, his grin growing more playful. “Yep. Poor guy’s convinced she hasn’t pieced it together.”

“She’s got a hunch,” you said knowingly, the corners of your mouth quirking into a small smile.

Joel let out a warm laugh, the sound easy and genuine. He leaned a little closer, his voice dipping just enough to feel more personal. “So,” he began casually, though the teasing edge in his tone gave him away, “you, uh… got a boyfriend or something?”

Your steps faltered slightly, and you turned to look at him fully, raising an eyebrow. “Joel,” you said, your voice dry but amused. “If I had a boyfriend, do you think I’d be here on a couples trip, with someone who is not my boyfriend?”

Joel blinked, his lips parting as he realized how ridiculous the question was. “Oh,” he said quickly, his grin softening into something sheepish. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you replied, brushing it off with a wave of your hand.

Joel’s smile returned, his gaze flicking over you with an almost curious warmth. “Just find it hard to believe,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now, more sincere.

You blinked, caught slightly off guard by the shift in his tone. “Oh, come on,” you said, rolling your eyes to cover the sudden flutter in your chest. “Does that line usually work for you?”

Joel’s brow furrowed, his expression turning playfully indignant. “What line?”

“The cheesy pickup lines,” you shot back, your lips curving into a smirk.

“I’m being serious,” he said, his tone dipping into something earnest, though the teasing glint in his eyes remained.

“Mhm,” you replied, your voice laced with mock skepticism as you tilted your head at him.

Joel let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as though genuinely disappointed. “Wow. So cynical,” he said, his grin returning as he leaned slightly closer, the heat of his gaze brushing over you. “Bet you’re a real hit at parties.”

Before you could fire back a retort, Maria’s voice called out from ahead, cutting through the night air. “Guys, hurry up! We’re gonna miss the live music!”

Joel turned toward her voice, then glanced back at you with a grin that was all charm and mischief. “Better pick up the pace,” he said, his drawl warm and teasing. “Wouldn’t wanna get left behind and have to serenade you myself. Though, fair warnin’—my singin’ ain’t free.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you quickened your step. “Lucky for you, Joel, I’m not paying to hear whatever cowboy karaoke you’ve got up your sleeve.”

Joel chuckled, falling into stride beside you. “Careful,” he said, his voice low and playful. “Talk like that, and you’re gonna hurt my feelin’s.”

“Somehow, I think you’ll survive,” you replied with a grin, your heart skipping as his gaze lingered on you just a moment too long.

As the two of you caught up with Maria and Tommy, the warm glow of the hotel lights and the faint hum of music ahead set the perfect stage for the night—and for whatever this thing between you and Joel was slowly becoming.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

“Holy shit,” Tommy murmured as you all stepped into the restaurant.

And honestly, he wasn’t wrong.

The place was stunning, a picture of understated luxury that somehow felt warm and inviting rather than intimidating. The open-air design let in the salty breeze, while woven lanterns hung from high wooden beams, casting soft, flickering light across the room. The walls were draped with lush greenery, accented by vibrant tropical flowers that seemed too perfect to be real. Somewhere in the background, the faint hum of live music blended seamlessly with the rhythmic crash of waves.

“This place is insane,” Joel murmured beside you, his deep drawl laced with quiet awe as his gaze swept across the space.

You glanced at him, catching the way the soft lighting brushed over the angles of his face, highlighting the faint scruff along his jaw and the warm brown of his eyes. “Not bad, huh?” you said with a small smile, your voice teasing.

He nodded, his lips curving into a slight grin. “Guess Tommy finally got somethin’ right.”

A waiter appeared, all effortless poise as he greeted you with a warm smile. “Right this way,” he said, motioning for you to follow.

The four of you trailed him through the restaurant, past tables filled with couples leaning into quiet conversations and groups laughing over cocktails. The soft glow of candlelight flickered across polished wood and crisp white tablecloths, giving the whole place a dreamy, golden hue.

The waiter led you outside to a terrace overlooking the ocean, where more lanterns were strung across the open space, their warm light mingling with the silver glow of the moon reflecting off the water. The sound of the waves was louder here, blending with the distant strum of a ukulele from the live band.

Maria and Tommy slid into one side of the table, their fingers already interlocking as they settled in. Joel, without hesitation, pulled out a chair next to yours and gestured for you to sit.

“Ladies first,” he said, his grin softening into something almost gentlemanly.

You gave him a small nod, sinking into the seat. He followed, sitting beside you with the kind of ease that made it seem like he’d been doing this for years.

“Here are the menus,” the waiter said, placing them delicately in front of you. “And the drink menus.” He offered a quick, practiced smile. “I’ll be with you shortly.”

As soon as he disappeared, Tommy leaned forward, flipping open the drink menu with wide eyes. “This place has everything,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Maria laughed, resting her chin on her hand as she glanced at her boyfriend. “Don’t get too excited. You still have to pay for it.”

“Worth it,” Tommy replied, already scanning the cocktails.

Beside you, Joel leaned back in his chair, his arm resting casually along the back of yours. He opened his menu with one hand, but his attention wasn’t on it—it was on you.

“See anything you like?” he asked, his voice low, teasing.

You glanced at him, your brows furrowing slightly. “The menu just got here.”

“Not talkin’ about the menu,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening just enough to make your pulse skip.

“Jesus,” you murmured under your breath, shaking your head and focusing hard on the menu in front of you.

Joel laughed, the sound warm and rich, as he grabbed a menu for himself. “Relax,” he said, flipping lazily to the drinks page, his eyes scanning the options with a faint smirk.

After a moment, he leaned closer, angling the menu so you could see it too. His shoulder brushed yours, the warmth of his presence impossibly distracting. “Hey, look,” he said, pointing to a section of colorful, overly elaborate cocktails. “These all sound fancy. Perfect for you.”

You arched an eyebrow, glancing at the names—everything from Tropical Temptation to Hibiscus Bliss. “You think I’m a ‘fancy cocktail’ kind of person?”

Joel’s grin grew wider. “I dunno. Thought you might enjoy somethin’ a little sweeter. Balance out all that sass.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could fire back, Joel straightened in his seat, his gaze lighting up with a spark of mischief. “Hey, let’s play a game,” he said, turning to face you more fully.

You frowned, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. “What kind of game?”

He leaned in closer, his voice dipping low as though sharing a secret. “Simple. I choose your drink, you choose mine.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. “How is that a game?”

Joel chuckled, resting his elbow on the back of your chair as he met your gaze head-on. “Because,” he said, his tone slow and deliberate, “it’s a test of trust.”

“Trust?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, completely unfazed by your skepticism. “Yep. You trust me not to order you somethin’ ridiculous, and I trust you not to screw me over with, I dunno…” He gestured toward the menu. “A Pink Flamingo Paradise or somethin’.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, shaking your head. “You don’t strike me as a Pink Flamingo Paradise kind of guy.”

Joel smirked, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence. “I’d rock it, though.”

You snorted, your fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the menu as you debated. “Alright, fine,” you said, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “But if you pick something gross, I’m holding it against you for the rest of the trip.”

“Fair,” he replied easily, his grin never wavering. “Same rules apply.”

You both turned back to your menus, scanning the options with newfound purpose.

Joel glanced at you, his tone teasing. “What’re you thinkin’? Something with an umbrella in it?”

“Maybe,” you shot back, smirking. “What about you? Something boring like beer?”

“Boring?” Joel placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense as he leaned back in his chair. “You wound me.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, shaking your head as you glanced back at the menu. After a moment, you settled on a drink, pointing it out to the waiter with a confident nod. Joel followed suit, his choice quick and deliberate, though the glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t about to let the game end there.

“All right,” Tommy said, leaning forward and slapping the table lightly. “We gotta get serious about this food situation. There’s too many damn things on this menu. What’s everyone thinkin’?”

Maria laughed, nudging his arm. “You’re acting like we’re solving world hunger, babe. Just pick something.”

Joel glanced at his brother with a faint smirk before turning his attention back to you. But this time, his playful demeanor softened, his gaze shifting to something quieter, more thoughtful.

“You got any dietary stuff I should know about?” Joel asked, his voice lower now, almost tender.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His tone was so different from the usual teasing lilt you’d come to expect—gentle, sincere, like he genuinely cared about the answer.

“Uh, no,” you said after a beat, shaking your head. “Nothing like that.”

Joel nodded, his expression relaxed but still warm. “Good to know,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on yours for just a moment longer than necessary before he turned back to the menu.

You swallowed hard, the faint warmth of his attention leaving a subtle flutter in your chest.

“Okay,” Tommy said, clearly oblivious to the moment as he squinted at the menu. “What the hell is a coconut lime mahi-mahi? Am I supposed to know what mahi-mahi is?”

“It’s fish, Tommy,” Maria said with a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes fondly. “You’ve had it before. Remember that time we went to the seafood place in Austin?”

“Oh,” Tommy said, nodding. “Right. That was good.”

Joel chuckled, his voice breaking the small bubble of tension that had lingered between you. “Y’know, Maria,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair, “you’re gonna have your hands full with him.”

Maria grinned, clearly unfazed. “Already do.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

This was fun, you thought, glancing around the table as laughter spilled into the warm night air. The conversation flowed effortlessly, Maria and Tommy trading playful jabs while Joel chimed in with his dry, easy humor. For the first time in a while, you felt completely at ease, the tension of earlier moments melting into the atmosphere of good company and golden light.

The food arrived before you even realized how much time had passed, the waiter placing each dish with practiced elegance.

Tommy, true to form, had ordered something hearty—a perfectly seared steak topped with garlic butter, its aroma rich and mouthwatering. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing it like it was the centerpiece of a grand feast. “Now this,” he declared, picking up his knife and fork, “is what I’m talkin’ about.”

Maria, ever the balance to his bold choices, had gone for a delicate seafood linguine, the pasta glistening with olive oil and white wine, studded with shrimp and fresh herbs. “You’d better share,” Tommy teased, eyeing her plate, but Maria only swatted his hand away with a laugh.

You had chosen a grilled snapper, its crispy skin drizzled with a tangy mango salsa and paired with a vibrant side of coconut rice. The bright colors and tropical flavors made your plate look like something straight out of a magazine.

Joel’s choice was classic and unfussy—a plate of barbecued ribs slathered in smoky sauce, with a side of roasted potatoes and charred corn on the cob.

He caught your gaze as he picked up a rib, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What?” he asked innocently, though his smirk betrayed him. “You were gonna judge me no matter what I got.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “I wasn’t judging. Just… admiring your commitment to the messiest thing on the menu.”

“Gotta live a little,” Joel replied, his tone light but his gaze lingering just long enough to make your heart skip.

The laughter continued as everyone dug in, the clinking of silverware and the hum of the nearby live music weaving seamlessly into the scene. Soon after, the waiter returned, a tray balanced expertly in his hands.

“For the lady,” he said with a polite smile, setting a vibrant, colorful cocktail in front of you. It was topped with a slice of fresh pineapple and a tiny pink umbrella, the drink itself a swirl of coral and gold hues.

Your jaw dropped slightly as you stared at it. “Oh my god,” you said, biting back a laugh. “What is this?”

Joel leaned in, his grin widening as he inspected the drink. “That,” he said, his voice full of mock-seriousness, “is a Sunset Paradise.”

You shot him a look, your lips twitching as you tried to hold back your laughter. “Are you kidding me? You picked this?”

“Hey, I thought it suited you,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes dancing with mischief. “Sweet, colorful… a little over the top.”

You shook your head, picking up the glass and taking a small sip. The flavors burst on your tongue—pineapple, passionfruit, a hint of coconut rum. Damn it. It was actually good.

“Alright,” you admitted reluctantly. “Not bad, Miller. Not bad.”

Joel’s grin only widened.

“And for the gentleman,” the waiter continued, placing Joel’s drink in front of him with a subtle flourish.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you as you stared at the delicate martini glass, filled with a pale pink liquid and garnished with a single orchid flower floating on top. “Oh, this is perfect,” you said, barely able to contain yourself. “Joel Miller, enjoying a Hibiscus Bliss.”

Joel narrowed his eyes at you, his lips twitching as though he was fighting a laugh of his own. “You’re enjoyin’ this way too much,” he muttered, picking up the glass with exaggerated care.

“Go on,” you teased, leaning forward on your elbows. “Take a sip. Let me see you savor that hibiscus.”

Joel held your gaze, his grin slowly breaking through as he raised the glass to his lips. He took a slow, deliberate sip, setting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. “Not bad,” he said, his tone deadpan. “Real sophisticated.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head as you leaned back in your chair. “I can’t believe you’re pulling this off.”

“Darlin’,” Joel said, his grin turning cocky as he leaned slightly closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear, “I could pull off anything.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The four of you sat back in your chairs, the plates cleared and glasses now reduced to condensation-rimmed remnants of colorful cocktails and beer. The warm buzz of good food and drinks settled over the group, and you realized with a start just how comfortable you felt.

Somehow, throughout the course of dinner, you and Joel had drifted closer. His arm rested casually along the back of your chair, and though he wasn’t quite touching you, you could feel the faint pull of his presence—the warmth radiating from him like he was the sun itself.

“Alright,” Joel said, his voice soft and low as he turned to you, his grin creeping in at the edges. “Now you gotta rate the drink I picked for you. Outta ten.”

You tilted your head, pretending to think, though the teasing glint in your eye gave you away. “Hmmm…” you hummed, dragging it out just to watch his brow twitch in anticipation. “I’ll give you a… seven.”

Joel leaned back, letting out a low hum of approval. “Seven, huh? Above average. I’ll take it.”

You smirked, leaning slightly toward him. “And now you?”

He glanced at the remnants of his Hibiscus Bliss, the delicate pink drink looking comically out of place in his hand, then back at you with an exaggerated frown. “Five.”

Your jaw dropped, and you straightened in mock offense. “A five?”

Joel nodded, his lips curving into a crooked smile as he took another sip. “Yeah, and that’s me bein’ generous.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, shaking your head, but you couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out.

In front of you, Maria and Tommy were leaning into each other, their voices softer now, heads close as they shared a quick peck. Maria’s laughter was light and sweet, blending with the faint strum of live music in the distance. The two of them were completely in their own world, whispering and exchanging smiles like the honeymoon phase had never ended.

Joel’s voice cut through the moment, low and warm as he leaned closer to you, his breath brushing your ear. “Let’s make a bet.”

You turned to him, your brows arching in curiosity. “I’m listening.”

He angled himself toward you, his grin widening just enough to make your heart do an annoying little flip. “Whoever’s right about when Tommy proposes gets to make the other person do whatever they want.”

Your brows furrowed as you studied him, skeptical. “That’s not fair,” you said, shaking your head. “He’s your brother. He’s probably told you everything he’s planned.”

Joel raised a hand, his expression softening into something almost boyish. “Swear to God, he hasn’t said a thing. I got no clue when he’s gonna do it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, searching for any hint of deception, but Joel just held your gaze steadily, his grin turning a little smug, like he knew you were about to give in.

“So?” he prompted, his voice a touch lower now, coaxing. “You in?”

You hesitated, glancing back at Maria and Tommy. The way they were leaning into each other, so completely at ease, made you think it had to be soon. And honestly, the thought of beating Joel at his own game was too tempting to pass up.

“Alright,” you said finally, turning back to him. “I’m in.”

Joel’s grin widened, and he leaned back in his chair, his arm brushing yours ever so slightly as he settled into the space between you. “Good,” he said, his tone laced with satisfaction. “Don’t worry, roomie. I’ll go easy on you when I win.”

“You mean if you win,” you corrected, your voice sharp but playful.

Joel chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement as he raised his glass in a mock toast. “To fair play,” he said, his drawl warm and teasing.

You clinked your glass lightly against his, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. Whatever this was—this slow, teasing back-and-forth—it was addictive, pulling you in like a tide you didn’t want to fight.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

When you arrived back at the suite, the quiet hum of the evening enveloped the four of you. The buzz of laughter and conversation from dinner had given way to the heavy weight of exhaustion. Maria and Tommy murmured their goodnights as they veered off to their side of the suite, their soft laughter fading behind the sound of their door closing.

You and Joel walked to your side in silence, the tension between you as palpable as the warmth of the tropical night. You could feel his presence behind you, his steps slow and deliberate, and you swore you could feel his gaze burning into your back. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the cool tiles beneath your bare feet as you reached the bedroom door.

Inside, Joel moved toward the bed, dropping his phone onto his side with a casual thud before sprawling back against the pillows. His arm rested lazily above his head, the glow from his screen illuminating the sharp cut of his jaw and the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You grabbed your pajamas and headed toward the bathroom. The cool splash of water on your face was grounding as you scrubbed off your makeup, brushed your teeth, and slipped into something more comfortable. But even as you tried to settle your thoughts, you couldn’t shake the image of Joel, relaxed and at ease, sprawled out on the bed like he owned it.

When you emerged, Joel’s eyes flicked up from his phone immediately, locking on you like you’d just stepped into a spotlight. His gaze traveled over you briefly—too brief to feel invasive but long enough to send heat rushing up your neck.

“What?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended as you set your things on the dresser.

“Nothing,” he said easily, his lips curving into a faint smile as he stood, grabbing his own bundle of clothes. “Just didn’t realize bedtime was a fashion show.”

You shot him a glare, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. “Go brush your teeth, Joel.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked past you, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. “Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, disappearing into the bathroom.

The door clicked shut behind him, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Christ,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a long sip.

You settled into bed, plugging your phone into the charger and pulling the covers up to your chest. The clock on the nightstand blinked 11:03, and the suite was quiet except for the faint sound of the ocean outside.

Just as you were starting to relax, the bathroom door swung open, and Joel strolled back into the room like it was nothing—barefoot, shirtless, and in a pair of low-slung pajama pants. His hair was damp, his skin still warm and golden from the day, and he was entirely, maddeningly unbothered as he crossed to his side of the bed.

Without a word, he threw himself onto the mattress, the springs creaking slightly under his weight as he flopped down with an exaggerated sigh.

“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered, your voice sharp as you stared at him.

“What?” he asked innocently, propping himself up on one elbow to meet your gaze. “I live here too, roomie.”

You gestured vaguely toward him, your eyebrows lifting. “Could you maybe warn someone before… doing that?”

Joel tilted his head, clearly biting back a grin. “Doin’ what?”

You waved your hand in his direction, exasperated. “Showing up half-naked like some—some—”

“Some what?” he interrupted, his voice low and teasing as his grin finally broke free. “Greek god? Movie star? Go on, I’m listenin’.”

You groaned, throwing your head back against the pillows. “You’re insufferable.”

Joel chuckled, the sound low and warm as he turned his head to look at you, his grin teasing but his gaze soft. “And you,” he emphasized, his drawl stretching the words as though savoring them, “are too wound up.” He rested one arm behind his head, the picture of lazy confidence as he continued. “Good thing you’re on vacation, or you might just explode.”

You turned your head to glare at him, though the twitch of your lips betrayed you. “Gee, thanks, Joel.”

“Just statin’ facts,” he said easily, his smirk widening as he stretched out across the bed like he owned it. “Bet you’re one of those people who makes to-do lists for their time off.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I do not.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right. So you didn’t already plan out tomorrow?”

You hesitated, pressing your lips together, and Joel laughed, the sound rumbling and warm.

“Knew it,” he said, his voice laced with triumph. “C’mon, roomie, you’re supposed to be relaxin’. Let me guess—early morning hike? Sunrise yoga?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the corner of the blanket and pulling it higher up your chest. “For your information, I was thinking about hitting the beach. Maybe snorkeling. Normal vacation stuff.”

He tilted his head, his gaze flicking over you briefly before meeting your eyes again. “So, what time we headin’ out?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Tomorrow,” Joel said, his voice casual but his grin edging toward mischievous. “You’re plannin’ it, right? Guess that makes me your plus one.”

You stared at him, your mouth opening slightly before you caught yourself. “You want to come with me?”

Joel raised an eyebrow, his tone turning mock-serious. “You expect me to leave you unsupervised in Hawaii? What if you trip over a rock or somethin’?”

You sighed, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. “Fine. But only if you promise not to complain the whole time.”

“Me? Complain?” Joel said, his brows lifting in mock offense. “Never.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him, but before you could retort, his gaze shifted, softening as it settled on you.

“Serious question,” he said, his voice dipping just enough to make your heart falter for a beat.

Your eyes snapped to his, the teasing grin on your face fading as your breath hitched slightly. “What?” you asked, wary of his tone.

Joel tilted his head, his expression unreadable for a moment before he said, deadpan, “Do you snore?”

Your heart stopped, then restarted with a kick of disbelief. “Joel.”

“I’m serious,” he continued, his brow furrowing like this was some grand existential question. “I can’t do snorin’. It’s a dealbreaker.”

You glared at him, though the faint blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “I do not snore.”

“Good,” Joel said, nodding like he was checking something off a list. “Because sometimes… pretty girls do weird things in their sleep.”

“Stop,” you said, your voice sharp but your cheeks betraying you as they burned.

Joel grinned, his gaze lingering on your face a moment too long as your blush deepened. “Just sayin’,” he added with a soft chuckle, clearly enjoying himself.

You shook your head, trying to ignore the warmth pooling in your chest, but before you could respond, Joel’s expression shifted again—his grin fading into something gentler, more serious.

“Also,” he began, his voice quieter now, “if you want, I can, uh, sleep outside. On the couch.” He gestured vaguely toward the suite’s living area, his tone so casual it almost masked the sincerity in his words. “It’s no big deal. I know you weren’t expectin’ this whole… shared bed thing.”

The offer caught you off guard, the sweetness of it pulling you up short. Joel—so cheeky, so infuriatingly confident—was looking at you now with an openness that you hadn’t expected.

You breathed in slowly, your gaze dropping for a moment before meeting his. “No,” you said softly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Joel raised a brow, his lips curving faintly. “You sure?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “As long as you stay on your side of the bed.”

His grin widened, that playful spark returning to his eyes. “Good,” he said, his tone lighter now. “Because, truth is, I really didn’t wanna sleep on the couch. It looked lumpy.”

You laughed softly, your chest loosening as the tension faded. “Wow, such a gentleman.”

Joel leaned back against the pillows, his grin turning smug but somehow still boyish. “Told you. I’m full of surprises.”

You shook your head, a quiet laugh escaping you, though the warmth in your chest betrayed your amusement. Settling back onto your side of the bed, you pulled the blanket up to your shoulders, the faint scent of clean linen and something distinctly Joel filling the air.

The room was quiet now, the low hum of the ocean outside mingling with the soft creaks of the suite as it settled around you. Despite the space between you, the warmth of Joel’s presence lingered, stretching into the silence like something unspoken but understood.

“Night, Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft and a little shy as you closed your eyes.

There was a pause—a small, almost imperceptible beat—and then his voice came, low and warm, carrying the faintest trace of a smile. “Night, roomie’.”

CHAPTER 2 IS OUT HERE

[misctf]

What You Wanted

Richard wanted to better himself. At first, as a wide-eyed new freshman, he was looking to make a change. Having always been more nerdy and unathletic, Richard prioritized his studies rather than his physical fitness growing up. But after years of fearing the gym, he took his first step. And the rest was history. He grew lean with muscle and learned the ins and outs of the gym routine. He found a gym buddy and quickly climbed the social hierarchy. Smart, fit, and now entering his junior year- he was living his best life.

“Richard!” Thomas’s nasally voice cut through the air, “Are you even paying attention?” Beady eyes narrowed behind his thick rimmed glasses.

Richard shrugged, “Sorry, I must’ve zoned out.” He was thinking more about his gym session earlier that day instead of paying attention to whatever nerdy movie Thomas picked, “I’m just not feeling it today.”

Richard and Thomas were friends since middle school. Both unapologetically nerdy, each surviving their fair share of bullying. But while Richard’s interests in fitness blossomed, Thomas remained entrenched in all things nerdy.

“You’re never feeling it anymore.” Thomas lamented, “I’m worried about you.” He looked at his friend closely, “Are you becoming like them? One of those stupid, smelly meatheads?” Richard knew Thomas never approved of his new friends- especially since many of them gave off the same vibes as their former bullies.

“Thomas, look.” Richard started, “I just... We’re obviously very different people now.”

“Not true! We both study Biochemistry! We’re both applying to graduate school in a few months!” Thomas interjected.

“Yeah, but Thomas, I’ve changed. I don’t really like superheroes and Battle Monsters and all that stuff anymore.” Richard sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I mean, its fun from time to time, but you’re obsessed with it.”

“Obsessed?”

Richard nodded, “Look, I need to get going. I have an exam.” He grabbed his backpack and started towards the door.

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Thomas yelled, “So you think you’re better than me too? Just like all those stupid jocks, right?” Thomas continued, “Fine, if you want to be a stupid, smelly jock so bad, go for it! Don’t come crying to me!”

“Whatever.” Richard said, “See you around.”

_________

Richard worked through his thermodynamics exam with ease. It became such a mindless activity that his thoughts wandered to Thomas. They had been close for years. And Thomas gave him an outlet for some of his more nerdier interests. Sure, he wasn’t as interested in all that nerd stuff like he was back in middle school, but Richard did value the time he spent with Thomas. He frowned. Maybe he was just a bit too harsh.  He’d apologize once he got done with his exam. But as he continued to write down the answers to these complex questions, he felt something welling up from within him. Something physical... something...

BUUUUURRRRPPPPP

Richard’s eyes widened and he quickly covered his mouth. He felt his cheeks flush red and looked around the room, noticing a few looks of disgust, as well as a few snickers from some of his classmates.

“Richard?” The professor said, looking up from her book.

“Yo, my bad dude.” Richard’s eyes widened, as did the professor’s, “Whoa, brah! Didn’t mean to say that!” His face reddened even more.

“Richard, please focus on your test.” She said sternly.

He nodded, trying to tune out the snickers from his surrounding classmates, ‘What the fuck was that?’ He thought to himself, trying to regain his composure, ‘Okay... just focus.’

But as he stared at the problems on his exam, he noticed small drops of water appearing on his paper. He raised an eyebrow as more drops appeared on his test, smudging his work.

“What the...?” He whispered, “Sweat?” He rubbed a hand across his forehead, “What the fuck?” He said aloud, again disrupting the class.

“Richard!” The professor slammed her book down.

“Dude, just back off.” Richard snapped back. He heard a few audible gasps from his fellow students and his face flushed red, “Bro, that came out wrong. I don't get why I'm sounding like this, bro.” His face flushed red again and he suddenly stood up and headed towards the door, “I gotta take a breather.” He said. But as he approached the door he could feel the same heaviness in his stomach, “No, no no... buuuuuuuuurrrrrpppppppp.”

He slammed the door behind him, and fled from the classroom.

_________

Richard walked across campus as fast as he could. He needed to get back to his apartment as soon as possible. Or maybe to a doctor. But wherever he went, he just needed to be somewhere private. The young man wiped some sweat from his brow and cringed.

“No way dude, I’m like a waterfall.” He whispered, “Oh fuck, look at my pits.” Dark pit stains rapidly formed beneath his arms and continued to grow larger. Richard stopped in his tracks and raised his arms, taking a deep whiff of his own stench, “Huhuhuh that’s ripe, dude.” He chuckled to himself. It was the judgmental stares of nearby students that broke him out of his train of thought, “I’m sorry!” He whispered, blushing deeply, “I didn’t mean to... burrrrppppppppp.” His face reddened even more.

“Haha nice one bro!” A nearby jock laughed.

“Yeah dude! Been dropping bombs all day.” Richard replied with a grin. He quickly shook his head and ran towards his dorm room, ignoring the jock's attempt for a fist bump.

_________

Richard slammed the door to his dorm room shut and threw his backpack across the room. At this point, he didn’t know what to do. His shirt had soaked through from his sweat and a new manly musk was clinging to his sweaty body.

“Okay, I just gotta go to an urgent care.” Richard whispered.

He walked over to his dresser to change his shirt, and he quickly stripped out of his soaked t-shirt. But when he looked down at his body, something wasn’t right.

“Yo dude, since when did I get abs?” Richard mumbled, “Oh shit, look at my boulders.” He rubbed a hand across his large shoulders, giving them a squeeze and chuckling dumbly, “Huhuhuh why do I need a shirt?” He flexed his bicep and watched as it bulged with strength, “Woah fuck look at that!” He watched as his bicep seemed to get a bit larger too, “Dude... that’s buuuuuuurrppppppp.” Richard chuckled, “Fuckin’ new protein powder. Makin’ my gassy as fuck.”

His plans to visit an Urgent Care were quickly leaving his mind. Instead, he continued to focus on his various poses, and amused himself with each growing muscle. Richard walked over to the couch and fell back onto it, grabbing his phone and posting a new picture of himself on his social media. All the white, he absentmindedly scratched as his massive chest, which was starting to sprout a light dusting of hairs. He grinned as various likes started appearing on his picture, and he felt his cock start to grow. He grabbed his massive cock and started stroking it, moaning with each tug.

“Fuck yeah.” He moaned, “Fuck people would be lucky to ride this dick.” He grinned, “Dick’s dick huhuhuh.” A knock at his door broke his concentration and he groaned with disappointment. His cock remained tented in his pants, but he didn’t care. He opened the door, casually scratching his hairy pit, “Oh fuck, Thomas dude! What’s up?”

Thomas grinned, “Richard?” He asked, “Wow.”

“Impressed broski? And don’t call me Richard. More of a Richy.” Richy grinned, “Come in, bro! Look, I’m like totally sorry about earlier. All that nerd stuff that you like. Didn’t mean to be a dick about it.”

“You don’t have to worry, Richy. You made it quite clear that you’re not a nerd anymore.” Thomas chuckled, “You wanted to be a stupid jock, well now you are.” 

Richy raised an eyebrow, “Stupid jock?” Something about that wasn’t right. Stupid jock? The words kept echoing in his head, “Stupid jock?” He repeated again, scratching his head, “That’s not... I...” Richy grabbed his head and looked at his friend. For just a second, the dull, dumb look in Richy’s eye was replaced by a knowing intelligence. A horrific realization evident in them. But it quickly lost its spark and his eyes dulled, “Huhuhuh yeah, I guess I’m pretty stupid. But doesn’t really matter when you’ve got this.” He grabbed his bulge and smirked, “Dude, you see that pic I posted? You think I could make it on OnlyFans?”

Thomas nodded, “Yes, I think you could. But I ought to go.”

“No wait bro!” Richy said, blocking his path to the door, “I mean... I know you always say you hate jocks. But its ‘cause you’re into us, right bro?” Thomas’s face reddened, betraying his secret, “So like...” Richy smirked and walked up to Thomas, who’s own khakis were now tented, “You wanna star in my first OnlyFans vid?”

_________

Richy stretched his hands above his head and sniffed his ripe pits. His dick twitched at the smell and he grinned. It’d been a few weeks since he posted his first video to OnlyFans. And yet here he was again, rewatching his first video: “buff jock fucks gay nerd.” Without fail, it always made his dick hard. And even though he posted several more videos since then, he always found himself coming back to this one. But even a masterpiece gets dull and Richy pulled out his phone. He ignored several horrified texts from his parents asking why he dropped out of school, as well as deleting multiple invites to interview for grad programs, whatever those were. Instead he found Thomas’s contact info.

“Hey bro.” He messaged, “Be at my place ASAP.” He took a quick selfie and threw in a few eggplant emojis to get his point across.

Afterwards, he tossed his phone somewhere on his bed. He didn’t need to see Thomas’s response. Sure he was stupid, be he did know one thing. No one, especially not Thomas, could resist this dick. And the knock on his door not even ten minutes later was all the confirmation he needed.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter six part two

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 5.4k

You guys stood a few feet apart for a few moments, your body further into the room than him, his feet inches from the door. Your eyes flitted to the counter quickly, noticing a basket of complimentary alcohol. You instantly moved towards it and grabbed two shooters, throwing one towards Chris. “One more for good measure,” you joke, but you both quickly crack them open and swallow them with a grimace.

Chris throws his empty bottle on the floor and walks towards you determinedly, leaning down as he approached you to scoop you up with his hands under your ass. Your legs instantly wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, lips colliding harshly.

He walks a few more steps and plants you on the desk connected to the wall, not at all concerned about the creak you both heard. The only thing you guys cared about was the lust rushing through your veins.

As you kissed, articles of clothing started to come off. First, his suit jacket, then your shoes, then his shoes, then his tie was ripped off and thrown across the room, until you guys were only left in one layer each, and that somehow made this all feel even more real.

“Are you sure?” Chris clarifies again, his hands resting on the top of the zipper on your back, and all you had to do was nod before he started to pull it down, sliding you off of the desk to let it fall off of you.

You stood up on your now bare feet, slipping the straps off of your shoulders and allowing your dress to slide off of you and pool at your feet on the ground, left in only your underwear as you didn’t wear a bra with the dress. Chris’s breath hitched in his throat as he took in the sight of your nearly naked body, his dick twitching in his pants. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, putting his hands to use as he unbuttons his dress shirt, sliding it off as quickly as he could.

He steps back to you and wraps his arms around you, fingers exploring your back as you looked down to work on the button on his pants, quickly popping it open and shoving them down, leaving you both in just your underwear.

“Chris,” you whine, looking back up at him, your hands palming him through his boxers. He groans, his own hands sliding down to your ass.

“Hmm?” He hums, trying to focus on the fact that you were speaking.

“Bed, please?”

Chris shoves your hand away and picks you up again, dropping you back on the desk. He leans down and wraps his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth enthusiastically. His right hand dips back to your underwear, pulling it to the side easily as it was a thong and already pretty thin. His middle and ring finger glided through your soaked slit, making you whimper and roll your head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut. “Bed is boring,” he mutters, kissing up your chest until he reaches your face again. “Bed is last.”

You cry out and arch your back towards him as his fingers slip inside of you with ease. “Oh my god, you sound so fucking good. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you like this, to make you sound like this.” Chris praises you, just like he had promised you on that date. The same comment that had sent your thoughts into a spiral.

“Chris!” You cried out as his fingers curled inside of you, thumb brushing over your clit simultaneously.

“Yeah, baby?” He coos, placing a soft kiss on your chin. “What’s on your mind?”

Your pick your head up off the wall and turn to look back down at him, your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as his fingers worked inside of you, your arms holding yourself up starting to become weak and shaky. “You. You’re on my mind, clearly you’re on my fucking mind,” you groan, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Fuck, I want you to make me cum so bad.”

Chris only smiles back at you, using his thumb a bit more as he fingered you, causing you to cry out. “Don’t worry, you’ll never want anyone else to make you cum after this.”

“You’re cocky,” you huff out, trying to hide the moan that slipped from your lips.

Chris laughs, pausing his fingers inside of you. “I’m good at what I do.”

You groan, reaching down to grab his wrist, trying to guide him to keep his fingers moving. “Come on.”

Chris furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. “What?” He asks. “What do you want?”

“Don’t tease me,” you try to demand, but it comes out soft and whiny.

“I’m not teasing you, baby, tell me what you want.” Chris’s left hand strokes up and down your leg as you share this exchange, his touch seemingly lighting your skin on fire.

“Chris!” You huff in aggravation. “You want me to beg for it? Fine, I’ll fucking beg for it. I need you, Chris. I need you to finger me, to eat me out, to fuck me, to do whatever the fuck you want with me for the rest of the fucking night. I need you so bad it physically hurts right now. I’m so desperate and horny that I feel like I could cum just from looking at your dick so please stop teasing me and fuck me until I’m crying, please.”

You’re almost out of breath when you’re done speaking, sucking air in quickly as you finish. Chris’s eyes darken at the permission to do whatever he pleased, knowing in his head you’ve just consented to the best sex either of you have ever had. “Coulda started with that,” he teases before slipping a third finger inside of you, making you cry out.

His fingers pump inside of you quickly, your body starting to shake from the pleasure. It’s been so long since you’ve had sex that it doesn’t take you long to start feeling your first orgasm crawling up inside you, your eyes clenched shut tightly as you focused only on the fingers buried deep inside of you, pressing everywhere you needed them.

“Chris,” you moan, a hand aggressively reaching out to grip onto his bicep, nails digging into the back of his arm. “Chris, I’m… fuck, I’m-.” You cut yourself off, legs trying to clench as the band in your stomach snaps, head falling back against the wall behind you as he coaxes you through your orgasm, lips coming down to press onto your neck, sucking a purple mark on the soft skin.

Your moans slow as his fingers slow inside you, pulling them out once you’ve come down, making you twitch lightly. You’re breathing heavily as you open your eyes and bring them to Chris’s as he pulls away from your neck, his own eyes falling down to where a long, sticky string of arousal connected your core and his fingers, completely fascinated by how wet you were.

He looks up into your eyes and smirks, breaking the silence. “You’re pretty wet for someone you hate. Can’t imagine how wet you get for someone you actually like.”

You roll your eyes and punch him in the chest lightly. “Shut the fuck up about how wet I am, I’m sure you have the worst blue balls of your life right now.”

Chris laughs, using his hand to slap down at your swollen clit, making you gasp and jump, clearly overstimulated. “Yeah, it actually kind of hurts but it’s so worth it to hear you like that just for my fingers.”

You push his hand away from you and stand up off the table, ignoring how shaky your knees were. You loop your fingers through your panties and slide them down, grimacing at how soaked they were. You definitely wouldn’t be able to wear those tomorrow morning on the way home.

You’re both standing in front of each other now, you completely naked and Chris in his underwear, dick clearly straining against the fabric. Your hand reaches out and starts to palm him, causing him to moan out quietly, feeling the first bit of relief for himself since the first kiss outside. “Fuck,” he groans, his head falling onto your shoulder. “Want you so bad.”

You thread your free hand through his hair, tilting your head down to face him as your hand stroked him over his boxers. “You’ve got me,” you tell him in a whisper. “You can have me however you want.”

Chris picks his head up and connects your lips again, sliding his tongue against yours sensually as his hand comes up to rest on your jaw. He’s moaning into your mouth, damn near whimpering and it’s making you even wetter than before if that was even possible. He’s got you weak in the knees in more ways than one and you aren’t complaining a single bit.

You pull away from the kiss first, using both hands to slide his boxers down his legs, finally locking eyes on his rock hard length, a shiver making its way down your spine. “Holy fuck, Chris,” you whisper, and he just laughs.

“What?” He teases.

“You know what,” you tell him, looking up at his eyes that sparkled even in the dimly lit hotel room. “Go sit on the couch.”

He listens, turning around and walking to the couch with a bit more excitement than he usually would, plopping down on it with his legs spread, ready for whatever you wanted him for. You walked over slowly, eyeing him up and down where he was sat on the couch until you were directly in front of him. He had no idea where you were going with this and the thought of you having your own plan was exhilarating to him.

You shot a smile his way before sinking to your knees in front of him, hand reaching out to grab his dick and start stroking it, pulling small moans from his lips as you did so. You lean down, keeping eye contact with him, but don’t let your lips touch him quite yet.

“Tell me, Chris,” you say quietly. “Tell me how long you’ve wanted to get me like this. How long you’ve wanted to see me on my knees for you.”

Chris’s jaw is slack as he stares at you running your closed fist up and down his dick, heart pounding in his chest. “I-I don’t know, a really long time,” he whines out. “Fuck, you’re lucky I’m drunk otherwise I wouldn’t last at all, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You giggle, leaning down to lick a strip from the base of his dick up to his tip, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking lightly before popping your lips off, pulling away again. “Not good enough. Tell me how long.” You demand, pulling your hand away completely and resting it on his thigh.

Chris groans at the lack of contact. “Since we were like eighteen! I can’t sleep with anyone without imagining what it would be like with you. I think about you when I get myself off. Every time I see you at my house I just want to bend you over the table and fuck you right then and there. It’s why I can’t be alone with you, because every time we’re alone and you’re just sitting there I just think about taking you wherever we are. You’ve had me wrapped around your finger for fucking years and you’ve had no idea, which is why I’m so desperate right now for something, anything, I just need you.”

You’re pretty sure the insides of your thighs were slippery at this point, completely coated in your arousal, not only from the orgasm but just from Chris’s words. He was so desperate for you and it was the hottest thing you had ever seen. It was enough for you to bring your hand back to the base of his dick and lean in, wrapping your lips around him and taking the first few inches, moaning when the taste of his precum hit your tongue. Chris’s hand instinctively went up and tangled in the back of your hair, wanting to push you down farther but resisting.

“Fuck,” he moaned, head lolling back onto the back of the couch and eyes fluttering shut. He focused on his hand in your hair, the way your head was bobbing up and down and your tongue where it was flattened on the bottom of his cock. It was all so overwhelming and he couldn’t believe it was finally happening after all of his fantasies. Though he was drunk, the fact that it was you overpowered his normal ability to last for what seemed like forever, his orgasm coiling in his stomach. “You’re so good, I’m- shit- gonna-.” Chris couldn’t even complete a full sentence and you knew what that meant, pulling your lips off of him completely.

You started to pump his full length with your hand, staring straight up at him. “Look at me,” you tell him and he picks his head up, eyes heavy as he looks down at you, mouth open as moans and whines leave his lips.

You’re not stroking him for long when he finally lets out a loud moan and shoots ropes of cum on his own chest, hips twitching and stomach tensing as he came. You smile at him and slow down, removing your hand once he’s finished, moving your eyes to look at his torso where his cum had been spread out, slowly dripping down his skin. “You look so good like that,” you whisper, bringing your hand that was coated in his semen to your lips, sucking off between your pointer finger and thumb while keeping eye contact with him. “Shame we didn’t do this earlier.”

Chris just watches you in awe, unable to say anything at the moment, too caught up in how sexy you looked. You just laugh at his silence and slowly rise to your feet before straddling him on the couch, sitting comfortably on his thighs. You lean down and lick a stripe up his chest, collecting more cum on your tongue, then bring your lips to his to kiss him again, cum slipping past your lips as your tongues danced together, causing Chris to moan at the taste.

He’d never had a girl do something like that before, but he thinks he would find literally anything you did hot, so he wasn’t even grossed out when he swallowed some of his own load, hands reaching down to grip at your bare ass, pulling you closer. Your hands rested on his cheeks and your hips started to grind against him, causing you to whimper out small moans of pleasure.

He noticed this and slipped one hand between you guys, grabbing his cock that was hard again, not sure if he even went soft after that orgasm, guiding your hips up with his free hand. Once you lifted your hips enough he positioned his dick at your entrance, ready for you to drop down on top of him and finally cross that line that he’d fantasized about for what felt like forever.

It was better than he’d ever imagined it when you finally sunk down and bottomed out, moaning into his mouth as you did so. “Shit, Chris,” you whine, pulling your face away from his. “You’re so big, feels so good.”

Chris planted both hands on either one of your hips, looking up into your eyes that stared down at him. “You feel incredible. I could stay like this forever.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him, placing a small, gentle kiss on his lips before pulling away and lifting your hips up, crying out as you drop back down again. You felt so full with Chris inside you like this and it was no doubt the best sexual encounter you’d ever had, and it was barely starting. “Chris,” you mewl, hips keeping a steady pace bouncing on top of him, his hands helping guide you so you weren’t too exhausted.

Your forearms were rested on his shoulders, using them for leverage slightly as your hips slammed against his repeatedly, the only sounds filling the room being the sounds of your bodies colliding and both of you breathing heavily. “Chris, I’m gonna cum again like this,” you whine out, the muscles in your thighs getting tired and your bouncing getting sloppy.

Chris wanted nothing more than to watch you fall apart again, but not like this, not yet. He looped his arms around your back and leaned you backwards until you were laid out on the coffee table in front of the couch, your ass barely on the wood and your legs hanging off. He moved his hands to the underside of your thighs and pushed them back, pulling out of you and dropping down to the floor on his knees. “What are you doing?” You question, propped up on your elbows to watch him. He doesn’t answer, only drops his head down and latches his mouth onto your pussy, tongue connecting with your swollen, sensitive clit, causing you to cry out and drop your head back.

He easily slips three fingers inside of you, curling them expertly, and the feeling of him eating you out and fingering you had you shaking almost immediately, legs twitching against his head. “Chris!” You moan, dropping your elbows out from underneath you and reaching down to grip his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. He moans against your clit and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge again, a chorus of moans and whines leaving your lips as he fucks you through your orgasm once again.

Only this time, he didn’t stop or let up, he only pulled his fingers from you and wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you even closer to his mouth if that was possible. You were no doubt crying at this point, tears dripping down your face as he continued to eat you out. “T-too much!” You tell him, but he didn’t let up, and you didn’t push him away, and it took no more than thirty seconds of him overstimulating you with his tongue to cum again, your head hanging off the coffee table and your jaw slack, completely silent as your body shook.

You finally sucked in a deep breath as he pulled away from you, kissing up your thighs as he looked down towards your completely spent body, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Eventually, you pick your head up and lift yourself back onto your elbows, looking down at Chris where he smirked at you from between your legs. “I almost passed out,” you huff.

Chris just laughs and stands up, helping you to your feet, his arms wrapped around your back to hold you up since you were too shaky to stand on your own. “I would’ve kept going even if you passed out.”

Your eyes widen at his words. “That’s fucked!” You say, but you couldn’t help but laugh at his words. He just smiles at you before shoving you forward on the couch, causing a squeal to leave your lips. Your knees land on the cushions and your hands on the back of the couch, looking behind you to watch Chris step up behind you.

He places one hand on your hip and the other on his dick to line it up with your entrance, and you smirk to yourself as you press against him, arching your back for him. “You’re going to ruin me for anyone else,” you tell him, and it sounds like a joke, but you’re pretty sure it’s a hundred percent true.

Chris smiles and leans to press a kiss into your shoulder. “That’s the goal.”

He presses in and bottoms out in one go, making you gasp. You’d already had him inside you once, but the change in angle had you seeing black spots in your vision. “Fuck,” you whimper, placing a hand on the wall to brace yourself a bit from the harsh thrusts he was delivering, sending your body forward every time.

“You feel so fucking good,” Chris groans, both hands placed on your hips as he watches your ass bounce back every time he pounds into you, the sight of that and your pussy swallowing him whole making him lightheaded. “You’re so perfect, taking me so well. S’like you were made for me,” he slurs.

You couldn’t even speak at this point, too fucked out and overstimulated to be able to think about choking anything out, the only thing leaving your lips being a string of moans and whimpers, and maybe a little bit of drool from your mouth hanging open.

Chris’s hand slides up your back as he continues fucking you seemingly as hard as he can, grabbing your hair and creating a makeshift ponytail, pulling your head backwards, causing you to arch your back more. “This pussy was made for me, huh? Made just for me, for my cock only. Got you fucking speechless.” He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, not only drunk off of all the alcohol you both had consumed, but drunk off of you. The way you smelled, the way you tasted, the way you felt gripping around his dick with your pussy. It was making him fucking delirious.

You used your left hand to hold yourself on the wall, your right hand coming down to rub back and forth on your clit, the feeling of your hand and Chris inside you triggering your tears once more, unable to hold back the way your body shook with a loud cry. “Fuck!” You yell out, feeling yet another orgasm bubbling up inside of you. No one’s ever made you cum this much in one night. You didn’t even think you’d made yourself cum this much in one night.

“Chris, don’t stop,” you breathe out, fingers still rapidly moving back and forth on your core, thighs shaking. “I’m so close, please, you feel so good inside me, don’t stop, fuck,” a string of profanities spilled from your mouth, not really making much sense as Chris turned you into a blubbering mess.

“That’s it, baby, cum all over my cock, I got you,” Chris coos, voice a stark difference from the way he was dominating you, dick feeling like it was about to split you in two from how hard he was thrusting and pulling your hips back to meet him. You happily listened, nearly screaming into the couch as you touched yourself through your orgasm, lurching your hips forward and away from Chris as you felt something you’ve never felt with a partner, only ever with yourself before. You cried out as you came, the sound of a small stream coming from between your legs as you squirted onto the couch and your fingers, your release dripping down your legs.

Chris’s eyes widened as he watched you shake, coming down from your intense orgasm. “Holy shit,” he muttered, to which you only whimpered, dipping two of your fingers inside yourself to coax a little bit more liquid out, pulling your fingers out and spreading your lips apart as you squirted a bit more.

“Chris…” you whine, turning your head to look at him, seeing him staring down at your completely drenched pussy and thighs, watching as the liquid dripped down your legs and into the couch. “I’m sorry, that’s never happened with anyone before, normally it just happens when I’m by myself.”

Chris reaches forward again and grabs your body, helping you turn around so you’re sitting on the couch, finally relaxing and not holding yourself up. “Why are you apologizing?” He asks, breathless just from the sight of you. “That was… the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You blush, looking away from his eyes, but he just sits next to you and grabs your jaw in his hand, turning your head to face him. “I’m serious. Don’t get all shy on me now.”

You giggle a bit and move your body, swinging your leg over his lap once more, taking up the same position you guys were in earlier. “Chris?” You start quietly.

He hums in response, moving his hand from your face and sliding them both down your body. On your waist, your hips, your thighs, finally reaching around and resting on your ass. “Yeah, baby?”

You smile at his words, lifting your hips and grabbing his dick, dropping yourself back down onto it, causing him to let out a small hiss as your hips landed on top of his. “I want you to cum inside me. Please.”

Chris brings his eyes up to yours, and in that moment you know you’ve got him wrapped completely around your finger. He’d do absolutely anything you’d ask him. You could’ve asked him to nose dive out the window and he’d do it just because you asked him. He was completely and utterly whipped just after one taste of you, and he couldn’t even complain. He lets out a small breath of air, clearly struggling to breathe at your words. “Anything,” he whispers. “I’d do anything for you.”

Chris stands up and takes you with him, walking you both over to the bed where he tosses you down, still inside you. He’s standing next to the bed and you’re laid on it, legs hanging off as he hovers above you. He grabs your legs and puts one on each shoulder before resting his hands on the tops of your thighs, starting to thrust into you again.

You’ve felt his dick at so many different angles tonight, each one better than the last, and this one was no different. Maybe it was the eye contact, or the words he had spoken to you seconds prior, or maybe it really was just the position you guys were in, him leaning over you and pushing your legs back as he fucked into you, you had no idea, but the way you looked up at him and he looked down at you it felt like you were the only two people in the world, and that feeling absolutely terrified you.

It didn’t take Chris long until his hips were stuttering and his moans grew louder, signaling he was close. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or if all this dick was getting to your head but you moved your legs to wrap around his waist and reached up to cup his jaw, sitting up on one elbow and pulling him down to meet you, pressing your lips against his firmly, but still someone sweetly. You both parted your lips as you kissed passionately, his hips coming to a stop as he completely sheathed himself inside of you, whimpering quietly into your mouth as he came, shooting long, hot ropes of cum deep inside you.

You stroked his jaw with your thumb as he came down, pulling away and placing a final kiss on his lips, both of you just staring into each others’ eyes for a few moments, not saying a word.

You were the first to speak, giggling a bit before you did so. “What the fuck?”

Chris laughs in response, nodding his head. “Exactly my thoughts.”

-

The two of you were laid in bed, Chris on his back and you on your side, head resting on his chest as his hand that was wrapped around you trailed up and down your arm, the room completely silent apart from your breathing. You hadn’t said much after you two had finished, only moving to grab one of the hotel towels to clean up between your legs as much as you could before the two of you crawled into bed under the sheets, still completely naked, room only lit up by one lamp in the corner by the desk.

You had so much you wanted to say, so many questions to ask, but you didn’t know how, and you had no idea Chris’s mind was filled with the exact same turmoil, wanting to speak but afraid to ruin the moment.

He had to, though. He had to tell you his true feelings.

Sucking in a deep but quiet breath, he began to speak. “Sophomore year,” he started quietly. “I wanted to tell you how I felt. I had finally worked up the courage to tell you, to tell my brothers, that I had feelings for you. That I wanted to date you. I was so young but I was so sure that I wanted you. I thought you were so pretty the first time I met you at lunch freshman year but I never could get the confidence to tell you. So… I waited until I was brave enough, and I went to find you at school. I couldn’t find you anywhere and I thought maybe you had left already, even though I was pretty sure you were going to walk home with us that day, so I almost gave up and told myself to do it the next day. I decided to look one more time, and I looked everywhere. Then I found you under the bleachers kissing that fucking asshole loser Theo Mason and… my heart fucking shattered. I realized in that moment that I had waited too long and you had no idea how I felt. I was so mad at myself for thinking you’d like me back and it was that moment that made me want to hate you. So I pretended to. I thought that hating you would be easier than dealing with my real feelings. That’s also why I got so mad at dinner last week. His name just… brought up so many bad memories and the fact that he was flirting with you right in front of me and you were clearly into him and the way you said you liked his name, I-fuck.” Chris’s voice cracked, his heart pounding in his chest and he poured out all of his feelings for the first time, to anybody. “It hurt and I felt like a little kid getting rejected all over again.”

You let Chris speak, not wanting to interrupt him or scare him away. You had no idea of any of this, and his confession and raw feelings brought made your eyes water, a fat tear rolling and landing on his chest. You felt terrible that he had been feeling this way all these years and that you were completely clueless. It wasn’t your fault, you had no idea, but it just made you so sad that this all could’ve been avoided with a simple conversation.

You assumed Chris had finished, so you picked your head up and propped yourself up to stare down at him, bringing your other hand up to his cheek to caress it softly. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, making Chris shake his head.

“You didn’t know,” he responds, just as quietly. “It’s my fault.”

You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, pulling away slowly. “I liked you, too.” You tell him, almost sadly. “I thought there was no way you liked me back so when he asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend and kiss after school I agreed. I never knew you were there, Chris, I would’ve chosen you in a heartbeat.”

Chris sighs, rubbing your back softly as he listened to you. “I’m sorry for treating you like shit all these years. I thought hating you would be easier than loving you and even after all this time I still just want you so bad.”

You smile down at Chris, eyes sparkling as you looked at him. You felt like for the first time you were seeing Chris for who he really was, seeing the man his brothers saw and loved, seeing the little boy his mom still saw when she looked at him. You didn’t see the person that stared at you in disgust, you saw the person whose eyes softened every time you looked away from him. You saw the person who stole as many glances your way as he could. You saw a man that seemed perfect for you, and you wanted nothing more than to try with him, to give you and him a chance.

“You’ve got me,” you tell him. “However you want me, I’m yours.”

-

a/n: thanks for waiting {: I hope it was worth it.

taglist

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[vifilms]

nsfw themes, eighteen+

gymrat!vi who frequents the gym every day except for sundays. giving into his wishes to be present for their weekly dinner. any other day? she’s getting her pump in. an absolute given in her world. pink-hued strands stick to her scalp as she pushes for a new personal record on the bench, especially when vi’s bulking. whenever she’s training, she’s so zoned in, nothing can distract — well — it used to be nothing. 

gymrat!vi who secretly enjoys nothing more than working out with jayce. accountability between two best friends turns into a friendly competition. nothing at stake except their egos. seeing who can outdo the other set after set. something to keep them both in line, fit, and violet enjoys the hit to jayce’s ego whenever she can push weight heavier than jayce.

gymrat!vi who isn’t oblivious to the attention thrown her way. with the heatwave of summertime, her muscles are on full display, defined biceps, toned thighs, and god her tattoos are basically a honey-trap. she would be a fucking liar if she acted disgusted by it, part of her likes it a little too much. but hey, everyone likes to be appreciated from time to time and vi is no exception. and she never really saw a problem with it until a one night stand who then not not so subtly stalked her every time she was in the gym, learning her schedule until she had no choice but to leave her favorite gym. silently, she made a vow to not fuck with girls she met at the gym. 

….well, until you. 

gymrat!vi who is a known regular. she knows all the girls at the front desk, flirts with many of them, but to her it’s as platonic as chatting up the barista who brews her dose of caffeine in the morning. it’s ingrained into her morning routine, simply just a part of who she is. so, when she sees you at the front desk she nearly has to do a double take. there’s not a hot chance in hell she’s seen you before — vi would have definitely remembered you.

gymrat!vi who becomes shy for the first time in her life, bringing her membership card up to the scanner and offering a small smile but when looks back you seem to take a second look, eyes locked into her powder-blue eyes. even if just for a moment, you’re veering into her thumping soul. vi can’t help but smile. she reminds herself, you’re just another pretty girl. you’re new, probably won’t even last long. yeah, that’s what vi’s going to let herself believe. it’s not like she’s thinking about your gorgeous lips when she bench presses, or thinking about your gorgeous  eyes taking her breath away — or when vi’s powerlifting she’s so not thinking about lifting you on top of her. 

“if you talk to her, she might actually know your name.”

“w-what, i-i’m not, sh—”

jayce raises his eyebrows at vi, shaking his head as his very questionable friend spots her as she moves the weight the fluidity, her movements only struggling to push through when she reaches the final set.

“she’s the gym owner’s daughter, he’s wanting her to take over the reins, old age and all.” jayce responds as violet places the bar on the rack, her set complete until she moves onto the next one. “your little theory of her not being around for long is kinda crushed. unless you want to find another gym….”

“that’s the whole point of me not talking to her, m’not finding a new gym again. that’s a promise. i can control myself.” 

jayce just laughs. fucking laughs.

“what’s so funny, bro?” vi pouts.

“that you genuinely believe you’re gonna be able to stop yourself and that you think you have a type….and she fits the bill.” 

“oh, fuck off.” vi grunts.  

dropping the fifty pound dumbbells by the bench, lifting up her shirt to wipe some of the sweat off her face only to find you on the other side of the gym, staring directly at her abs like her glistening sweaty skin like it’s a golden ticket to heaven.

“well…fuck.” 

gymrat!vi who notices your presence more and more in the coming weeks. this time not just behind the front counter. you’re with the personal trainers, helping new customers fill out paperwork, and this morning you go wherever vi goes, her eyes can’t seem to stop searching for your figure. especially with those tight leggings you always seem to wear, vi couldn’t stop looking at the fat of your ass if her life depended on it. she managed to squeak out more than a hi to you yesterday, but it’s as far as her pleasantries extend.

gymrat!vi who has her headphones placed on her head, her all black workout set; this time something more modest at her disposable. the black and cotton hoodie covers her head, flares of bright pink wisps shadow from the hood but her shorts reach mid thigh, the overworked muscles in her legs flexing as she lifts the weight. jayce isn’t with her today, which means she basically had to physically restrain herself from talking to you today. even if she can see you sneaking glances at her through her workout, eyeing her legs each time she’s on the leg press. greedy, hot, goddess — vi is so fucked. 

when she walked the following day, you said her name, violet. 

you know her name. 

it’s just the database, it’s the only reason. 

pull yourself together, idiot. 

gymrat!viwho is at the end of her workout, taking her final rest before she does her last set, but here you go again, gawking as you pretend to be readjusting the weight on the racks but you finally stop looking at her, trying to put the last weight, the one-hundred pound bell but you just can’t. even then, vi is trying not to smile with how adorable you look as you struggle. 

before making her way over to you, she slides the black pair of headphones on her tattooed neck, popping the hoodie, seeing if anyone else was going to help you — just her luck — there wasn’t a soul in her at midnight besides her….shocker. 

“stupid, piece of shit, would you just—” 

“need some help there, princess?” vi looks over at you from the workout beach she’s perched on, legs spread wide as her jaw juts out, eyes naturally gleaming with curiosity. 

“i should be able to. i can do this, right? yeah? i definitely can do this.” 

but it only sounds as if you’re trying to convince yourself. the weight of responsibility crushing your spirit by a singular dumbbell. you’re huffing and puffing. life and death here, and all because of a stupid, petty, weight. 

vi stands up, her height towering over your hunched finger. “pick it up with your legs. next time, make it’ll easier.” 

violet doesn’t really use her legs though. the beautifully strong woman kneels on the ground with you, her gloved hand picks the weight up with ease and places it back on the rack. 

“obviously, i know that.” 

violet hums before she offers a hand, helping you stand tall. “of course you do.” 

the sensation bubbling on her fingertips from touching your skin almost seems downright electric — and now vi feels like running ten miles in the other direction for the sole purpose of settling her heartbeat for just a moment. 

“anyways, yeah, sorry to disturb you.” 

“not a problem, princess. never going to say no to a pretty girl in distress.” 

the smile violet offers is adorable, the one she flashes the girls when she comes in for her late work out, from wherever she comes from. but the way she scratches the nape of her neck? that’s just for you. 

gymrat!vi who can’t stop thinking of you, despite her best efforts. constantly, she wonders if you’re seeing someone, but the way you watch her, vi suspects your single as can be. it isn’t until one friday night, just as she’s trying to leave, one of the front girls, rich and pompous, is trying to coax her into meeting her and some friends at the bar tonight. when she’s about to say no for a finale time, growing more uncomfortable by the second, you’ve come up to where she is and, well fuck, violet’s even more embarrassed that one of your employees is hitting on her right in front of you. 

“c’mon! jayce says you haven’t been out in ages. you deserve it, you’re always working out so much. if anyone deserves a treat, it’s you.” 

cursing out the little shit in her mind, she rolls her eyes, trying to contain herself from having an aneurysm. “little shit, divulging all my secrets.” 

sabrina laughs more than she should, tossing her purple hair over her shoulder. carefully, you hover, absentmindedly scrolling on your phone and violet wonders if you stay there for a reason. 

if she’s the reason you’re eavesdropping. 

“so….is that a yes?” 

violet sighs, she hates this. “maybe another time.” 

gymrat!vi who wonders what you thought of the entire time. quiet as a mouse, you hadn’t said a single word to her since you were there to witness the rejection of her employee they still couldn’t seem to just stop. this is what she wants. silence…..right? it’s what she keeps telling herself but now vi can’t stop trying to catch your attention, just an ounce of it is all she craves. today, you only spared her a glance before you talked to jayce. pathetically, she decides to do something to catch your attention, hip thrusts. 

gymrat!vi who looks up as you watch her pelvis lift the weight placed on her abdomen, pushing sturdy hips through the set as you keep sparing glances gawking at her porcelain skin exposed. she can tell you’re at least trying to pay attention to whatever jayce is saying but you’re interest loses focus when she grunts with one final thrust, the bar rolling away from her legs. 

“did you hear that?” vi rolls her eyes at the sound of his chipper voice. 

“what?” violet slips her headphones off, trying to even her labored breaths. not just jayce, but the both of you stand above vi as she tries to catch her breath. 

“i invited her to our brunch with mel on saturday.” 

“oh, is that this saturday?” 

oh, he really is playing fucking dirty. 

“is there a problem, vi?” 

little chicken shit is grinning, goddamn it. she takes another swing from her water bottle, hoping to god you’ll think it’s too forward, too weird, and you’ll just instantly decline. 

“not a problem.” vi grits her teeth as she speaks, jaw clenching as she knows this is surely to be a hole there will be no digging out from. 

or one she so desperately wants to fill.

rayray rants — UM IDK HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS???? it's kinda different than what i normally post but i might turn it into a little hc series. anyways! hope you like and i have a very special vi post coming soon that i'm really excited about. but yeah! hopefully, i can continue this because vi working out is literally all i can think about. alright, um, see you next time ♡

[goomyloid]

got uty au pilled again, sorry... more info under the cut

an AU where ceroba, in the end, refuses to inject kanako with the serum. even after all her research, she just can't trust that it's totally safe. while kanako accepts this, she still wishes she could eventually be of use somehow, and indirectly blames herself for her father's death.

despite all this, with kanako alive, ceroba is able to grieve chujin in a far less desperate way, still having her daughter by her side. as the years go by, ceroba devotes more and more of her time to finishing chujin's research in hopes of finally making a serum that can save the underground. kanako is determined to help, too -- together, they clean up chujin's lab and make it a far nicer place to work, because they're in this together now. well, in theory.

ceroba still certainly takes care of kanako and does her best to be a good mother, but as time passes, ceroba spends more and more time in the lab trying to find an answer. kanako, being the social butterfly that she is, can't bring herself to always stay shut inside like her mother; she travels daily to Oasis Valley, making friends and becoming the town darling. as ceroba spends more time working, kanako spends more and more time taking care of the estate, trying to spend time outside whenever possible.

but it gets kind of lonely. the ketsukane estate is off outside of Oasis Valley, and not many people come by. she's worried about her mother, who's been shutting her out as she becomes more desperate to find a solution. there's only so much to do at the house.

then, clover falls into the underground and explores the dunes. there are barely any other kids at this spot in the underground -- finally, someone around her age! she's immediately entranced by them and determined to become their friend, even after finding out they're a human -- that just makes them cooler...!

but there's a problem; kanako has seen her father's tapes, she knows that a human soul would be extremely valuable to producing the serum. of course, she wants to help save the underground, and she wants her mother to finally be rid of stress and be able to spend time with her again... but after spending time with clover, kanako knows there's no way she can let clover die. they're like the sibling she never had...

and kanako can't even let her mother know that clover exists, either; she knows exactly what will happen if ceroba finds out there's a human here. and yet, a secret part of her wishes and hopes that maybe, just maybe, ceroba could find value in clover as a person and then they could all live in the ketsukane estate together. it would be a dream come true! maybe there's even some way clover can help ceroba without having to give up their soul...?

but things aren't destined to work out that way. any number of things could happen.

clover could peacefully move on in their quest through the underground, leaving a sad and lonely kanako behind.

or, ceroba finds out about clover in one way or another, and things are not looking good. but would she choose to take clover's life at the cost of her daughter's one and only friend?

what if clover didn't come in peace, but in vengeance?

or maybe ceroba somehow accepts clover, growing to respect them after all is said and done, and she tries to experiment on a living human soul?

or maybe, wracked with grief and loneliness, kanako discards her mother's warnings and takes the new, updated serum herself, determined to become the hero for her family like she always wanted...?

or, something else could happen.

what if, after an unhappy ending, kanako wakes up on that same day again, waiting for clover to come by the ketsukane estate for the first time? she doesn't even know how it's possible, reliving the same few weeks over and over. she just wants to find her happy ending, and she'll search and search for as long as she needs to.

how long can she watch the same endings play out over and over?

[postracehair]

altitude

max verstappen x reader | 1.5k

you hate flying. but it's a necessity if you want to see max during the f1 season. when you finally fly home together during a break, will you let him help calm you down?

cw: r hates flying, anxiety, kissing, like, lots of kissing, worried max, allusions to more than kissing, fluff, george/carmen cameo

a/n: she's so me! i hate flying! but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do! wrote this way back after brazil, but have it now as a race week gift.

--

Everything changes very quickly after you meet Max Verstappen.

You are pulled into a world of action and luxury all because he wants you there. And you go willingly because you want to be with him, too. How could you not? The world famous champion is a kind, funny, and sweet man who loves his cats, his friends, and, as is becoming clear, you.

Much of the start of your relationship is scheduling. A day here and there between races, dinners and walks and movies at his place or yours. You spend a lot of time in airports when you can, working on the go and white knuckling your way through flight after flight. It's worth it to see him on the other side.

Somehow, you've never actually travelled together.

Until now.

The race weekend ends the best way possible -- the top step of the podium. A night of celebrations fades into an early morning flight on a private jet and this time, you're coming with. Because Max has three weeks off. He'll have to work, of course, spending time in Milton Keynes before the final stretch of the season, but for the most part you're going to have him all to yourself.

It does not occur to you until you're in the car on the way to the tarmac that Max has no idea how much you hate flying. You're in one of those big Sprinter vans, head on Max's shoulder as he scrolls through his phone. George and Carmen sit on the other side, the former's head tipped back as he dozes. Everyone is quiet and you're working a bit hard to keep yourself calm.

"What is it?" Max whispers. He puts his phone down and you look over at him. His hair is a mess, you can see that much even in the low light of the van. You reach out and run a hand through it.

"What?" you whisper back.

He shakes his head a little and wraps his fingers around your wrist. "You were all loose and then you got tense."

The frequent distance between you and the busy nature of your schedules demands that communication be top of mind. You do not lie to each other about your feelings, and you do not hide things. Even things like this.

"I don't really like flying," you say, softly. "I've never told you because we've never flown together. It just makes me kind of anxious. I've never been able to shake it."

His brows furrow. "Really?"

"I'll be fine," you assure him. "Just, maybe hold my hand during takeoff and landing. And if there is any turbulence."

"But -- I don't understand. Are you afraid?"

You know that there is really no way to make him understand but also that he won't stop trying to. Max gets afraid, he gets nervous. He's only human. But he combats it with sheer willpower, focus, and skill.

"I fly this way all the time," he says, urgent this time. "It's totally safe."

"That's not -- Max, I just get nervous. It's not really to do with safety. I just don't really enjoy it."

"Oi," George says, rousing. "What are you two yapping about?"

"Go back to snoring, George," Max says, not taking his eyes off you.

"Do I really snore?" you hear him ask in a hushed tone. Carmen shushes him.

"Pulling up to the plane now, folks," the driver calls back.

"Seriously," Max says, sounding a little desperate. "It'll be alright."

"I know. I fly all the time, Max." His frown deepens.

"To come see me," he reminds you. "If I knew you didn't like it, I would have --"

"What?" you interrupt. "Invented teleportation? It's okay, Max. Knowing it's to see you makes the whole thing easier, honestly."

This does not satisfy him. You can tell. It's a problem he can't solve -- his least favorite kind. There is no simulation to run for this, no meeting he can talk through, no track he can circle a thousand times.

The van door opens and you're all beckoned out onto the tarmac. You follow George and Carmen with your bag and Max is at your heels, his duffle slung over one shoulder and his other hand on the small of your back. Normally, he's not this touchy, but he seems reluctant to let your conversation in the van go.

"Max--"

"I'm thinking, liefje."

You roll your eyes. "About how to invent teleportation?"

"Something like that," he grumbles.

The jet is narrow, an aisle on one side and four rows of seats on the other. Four sets of two, a table between them. Carmen and George settle into one nook and you toss your bags into another. You slide into the window seat and Max sits heavily in the one next to you, still frowning. You let him, instead looking around to absorb the new experience.

It's much nicer than a regular plane, that's for sure. There is a cooler stocked with drinks and a cabinet full of what seems to be snacks. You can stretch your legs to rest your feet on the seat across from you. It's so early you figure all of you will just sleep, though Max's mood seems at odds with that plan.

The pilot introduces herself and gives a quick rundown of the route and airtime. You all nod and smile and then the doors close and the lights dim.

Max's hand finds yours immediately. You sit up a little and look over at him. He looks even more frazzled than he did at the hotel, when you both rolled out of bed and into comfy clothes. Soft pants and a hoodie that make him look boyish, younger than he is. But here, his cheeks are a little flushed and his jaw is set like he's about to get in his race car.

"What do you do normally?" he asks, softly. You can hear George's soft snores already. "When I'm not there."

"Max," you sigh.

"Tell me, please?"

The seat shifts under you as it heads for the runway. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

"Well, I don't hold some random guy's hand," you tease. He squeezes your palm and huffs. 

"He could be so lucky."

The plane comes to a stop and you know what happens next. Your mind remains preoccupied with Max -- a good thing, right now -- but your body tenses and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter as the engines kick up and you pick up speed.

Max says your name but you don't budge. "Liefje," he whispers, much closer than before. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he gently holds your chin with two fingers and turns your face towards him.

And then he's kissing you. A closed mouth press of his lips to yours, firm but still. At least until you sigh into it, releasing your death grip on the arm rest to reach for him blindly, your tangled fingers between you. The kiss deepens, his nose sliding against yours as you part your lips and the chaste press becomes more. Max's tongue licks into your mouth leisurely, like he has all the time in the world to explore you. 

You kiss and kiss and kiss, so long that a voice in your head wonders if maybe you can do this for the whole flight, please? Max tugs your legs across his until you're practically in his lap, spread across the two seats like they're one.

"We're reached cruising altitude," the speakers crackle. "Feel free to move about, but please be mindful."

Max pulls away, a strand of spit glistening between you until he wipes it away with a smirk. His hair is even messier than before and his cheeks are pink. Lips swollen, eyes glassy -- you must look the same. Your heart is racing and you laugh, breathless.

"Well," Max says, then swallows. His voice is raspy, hoarse with desire. "Guess you have to fly with me from now on."

"Max." You pitch forward and settle where his neck and shoulder meet and inhale. His arms wrap around you and he holds you close. You can hear his heart racing just as fast as yours.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles. "I know."

"I can do it," you remind him. "I do it all the time. I just don't like it, that's all."

You feel the press of his lips on your hair.

"I just don't like that I can't fix it," he says. "I can't get inside your head and make you know it's alright."

"No, you can't," you sigh. The plane jerks just a little -- a swoop of your stomach that has you gasping. Max's hold on you tightens and he says your name.

"How do you do this alone?" he rasps, mouth next to your ear as he rubs your back.

"I close my eyes," you say, taking deep breaths. "And I imagine you with me."

He curses softly. "We should get a jet by ourselves next time," he mutters. "Then I can really distract you."

That gets you to laugh, though you can't say you hate the idea. It makes you feel warm, makes you press your thighs together.

"Next time," you echo. "But for now..."

Max cups your jaw and ghosts his nose over yours. "For now..."

He brings your lips together.

[prettyngeto]

your lips, my lips (apocalypse) - 18+

satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: if someone told you you'd be screaming out the name of notorious fratboy satoru gojo for a reason other than to berate him, you never would've agreed to come to this party.

content (mdni): nsfw, college au (reader and gojo are both twenty), fratboy!gojo, gojo is an annoying little shit but he's hot so it's okay, fingering, creampie, multiple orgasms, dom!gojo, sub fem!reader, praising, dumbification, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids!) inspired by this fanart by yunonoai

word count: 6.7k

playlist: fluent in bullshit

main masterlist || gojo masterlist || ao3

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat, bodies moving drunkenly against each other to the sound of the music blasting from the multiple speakers around the house. Multicoloured lights were dancing around every surface visible, your face scrunching in disgust as you caught sight of a half naked couple practically eating each others' faces off against a wall. All in all, it was a typical Saturday night for the infamous Jujutsu High frathouse. Red solo cups littered the floor as you manoeuvre your way through the crowd, eyes scanning around for your best friend. Your hand moved to fish your phone out of your pocket, immediately calling her for assistance, because if there was one thing you were good at - it was getting lost and right now you were most definitely lost. However, it seemed like luck was not on your side tonight because of course tonight is the one night she decides to not pick up. A small whine of frustration left you as you craned your head, going up on your tiptoes to continue your search in vain. 

“The hell ya cryin’ for?” The deep familiar voice of the living and breathing embodiment of irritation rang through your ears. 

Satoru Gojo.

Yeah, luck was most definitely not on your side tonight. 

Gojo had been a constant in your life since you were kids, and not in a good way, in fact he was like that pesky fly that kept buzzing around your room at night even though the window was wide open. On top of this he just happened to be the president of the Jujutsu High frat - something he never failed to remind others of, so although it came to no surprise to anyone that he was here, his presence always seemed to antagonise you. The vice president and one of your mutual friends, Suguru Geto on the other hand was much more tolerable compared to the devil's spawn that currently had his arm languidly thrown over your shoulder as he leaned down to talk into your ear. His smirk widens when you roughly shove his arm off your shoulder and he goes to hold his hands up in a show of faux surrender. "Woah easy there princess, what's got you all worked up huh?" You click your tongue in exasperation and turn away from him, "You ever learn to mind your own business Gojo or do you get off on annoying everyone around you?" 

The glare you send his way only serves to intensify the smirk on his face, his tongue reaching out to lick his lips before he answers. "Nah not everyone, I only get off on annoying you, get it right y/n." The cheeky tone in his voice makes you groan in annoyance before you spin on your heel and walk away from him, the sound of his grating laughter echoing behind you. 'Seriously what was his problem? Someone needs to teach him how to shut the fuck up.’ The dynamic between you and Gojo has always been an… interesting one. It mostly consisted of him doing everything humanly possible to get on your nerves, from pulling on your hair in kindergarten to throwing scrunched up paper to the back of your head in high school and in return, you used him to learn how to perfect your punches, (which admittedly always hurt him but he'd never let you know that). 

“Y/NNN THERE YOU AREEE!” The squeal of your name had you turning around only to become entangled in the long limbs of your best friend, Yuri, simultaneously catching the attention of several others in the room due to the volume of Yuri’s voice. Yuri was the other (more enjoyable) constant in your life, a ball of sunshine who always got a smile out of you since the both of you had met at the ripe age of five. But she could also be a bit… loud, ultimately making you two the centre of unwanted attention wherever you went. “Bitch I’ve been walking around trynna find you for so long. Ugh, I think this is the most exercise I’ve done this whole year.” Yuri pants out once you’ve finally managed to get out of her surprisingly strong hold. You huffed, a small pout forming on your lips. “Yu, don’t be dramatic, it’s your fault anyway. I called you but someone decided to not pick up and then I had to deal with that annoying piece of shit. By. My. Self.” 

“You talked to Gojo? Gojo Satoru? Alone? And the room is still intact? Who are you and what have you done to my violent best friend?” The glare you send her way has Yuri giggling, an arm hooking into yours as she drags you upstairs to the room in which the rest of your friend group were currently playing some stupid games. Excited smiles and waves greeted you as you walked through the door, Yuri pulling you down to sit in between her and Shoko. “You two are right on time, we were just about to start a riveting game of seven minutes in heaven.” The sarcasm in Shoko’s tone made you stifle your laughter, head falling onto Yuri’s shoulder, as she gave you a playful wink in response. “Seven minutes in heaven seriously? What, are we horny 13 year olds again or something?” Yuri groaned, her head tilting to rest on top of yours. You hummed in agreement, boredom already evident on your face, “Yeah who’s dumb idea was this anyway?”

Suguru has a cheeky smile playing on his lips as he answers you, "Google's. We didn't know what to do so we searched up 'fun games to play at a party.' " He was met with blank stares until Shoko nearly choked on the puff she was taking from her cigarette at his confession, the room now filled with the sound of laughter and Utahime frantically rubbing Shoko's back in an attempt to stop her from coughing up a lung. "Oh by the way did anyone see Satoru, we can't start without him or he'll start whining. Fucker said he went to the toilet, it's been like twenty minutes." Suguru's voice broke through the laughter as he leaned back onto his hands, head tilting in curiosity. Your mood immediately soured, letting an audible groan at the sound of his name and to make things worse, this was the moment Gojo decided to make an appearance. His presence was overwhelming to say the least, and the fact that he was aware of the effect he had when he walked into the room definitely did not help his exploding ego. Grey hoodie slung over his shoulder, and hands tucked in the pocket of his matching grey sweats, a lazy smirk made its way onto his face, "Hope you guys didn't miss me too much." His eyes caught yours as he sat down opposite you next to Suguru who smacked him up the head for taking his 'sweet fucking time,' resulting in Gojo readjusting the black baseball cap he was wearing backwards with a whine. 

His sky blue eyes were shining with mirth as he looked you up and down from across the circle you all had formed, arms crossing and an eyebrow raising up at you in challenge. Your eyes immediately narrowed into slits as you stared him down, unintentionally locking onto the way his biceps flexed across his chest in the black compression shirt he never seemed to take off. He followed your eyes down to his arms, smirk widening as he not so subtly flexed his arms even more, watching in amusement as you try to hide the flustered expression in your face by rolling your eyes and looking away with a scoff. 

Shoko cleared her throat impatiently, "Are you two done eye-fucking each other now or can we get this stupid game over and done with?" She asked with a bored expression, looking between you and Gojo with a raised brow. This only seemed to fuel Gojo's amusement, snickering as your jaw went slack at Shoko's words, face twisting in disgust.

"You two. Cut it out. Shoko - you're right and I love you but we don't need Satoru bleeding out on my carpet tonight okay?" Suguru Geto ladies and gentlemen, ever the peacemaker. 

Utahime shot up from her spot next to Shoko, hands clapping in excitement as she retrieved a small black bag. "Okay everyone put something in the bag so we can figure out pairings. And thennnn, all you gotta do is go to the storage room next door for seven minutes. Simpleee!" She announced this with way too much excitement for your liking. Once everyone had dropped one of their belongings into the bag, it was simultaneously decided that Utahime would choose her partner first. Eyes scrunched closed, she dipped her hand into the bag, pulling out what was unmistakably Shoko's lighter. Loud hollers and cheers filled the room all the while Utahime sat frozen, face painted a bright shade of red. Wordlessly, Shoko sat up walking towards the storage room next door. Upon noticing that Utahime still hadn't moved, she turned around, tilting her head, a small smirk appearing on her face, "Ya comin' or not?" Let's just say you had never seen Utahime move so quickly in your life.

Seven minutes later, the pair walked back in the room with flushed cheeks and equally red lips that were sporting matching smiles as they both sat back down. Unfortunately for you, it was your turn to pick from the bag. Your hand reached out tentatively, rummaging through the contents of the bag as your fingers latched onto something cold. Pulling your hand out and opening your eyes, you were met with the sight of Gojo’s infamous silver chain pooled into your palm. Silence. Complete and utter silence… that is until Suguru’s dumb ass started cackling like a possessed soul, slapping his knee with tears of laughter gathering at the corner of his crinkled eyes. “I fucking love this game,” His words came out as what could only be described as wheezes, one hand on his chest as he tried to calm his breathing down. Meanwhile, Gojo was still wearing that ridiculous smirk of his, once again eyeing you up and down as you stared daggers into his soul, cheeks puffed out in anger. 

“I refuse.” Your words were sharp and precise, arms crossing in defiance.

“That’s not how it works y/n…” Yuri’s defeated voice came out in a whisper next to you.

“Well too bad that’s how it’s gonna work now.”

“Says who.”

“Says ME.”

The sigh being let out next to you indicated Shoko’s clear irritation with your antics as she stands up, dragging you with her by the elbow as you splutter out excuse after excuse. Gojo on the other hand, has been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time. Your weak protests were interrupted when you were shoved into the empty storage room, followed by Gojo falling unceremoniously onto you, both of you crashing onto the floor. Before either of you could register your situation, the doors slammed shut encasing both of you in darkness. Gojo was still pressed against you, arms caging your head as a result of him trying to break his fall - and as far as he was concerned, he had no intention of getting away from you anytime soon. 

"Satoru Gojo get the fuck off me right now" you seethed through your teeth, your palms weakly pushing at his chest in an attempt to shove him off of you. 

"No can do sweetheart, I kinda like being this close, don't you?" You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, feeling his hot breath fan across the side of your face as he leaned impossibly closer to you to whisper in your ear. "Oh for fuck's sake Satoru are you fluent in bullshit or something? Get off meeee…" Your words trailed off into a small whine, clearly irritated by his antics but the teasing smile on his face only widened at your words, "Ooo first name basis already huh? This day just keeps getting better. You got a crush on me or something y/n?"

"Shut up Gojo, I hate you and you know it." You hissed out through burning cheeks, and you were struggling to figure out whether it was out of embarrassment or from the newfound fluttering in your heart. "You hate me huh?" His voice lowered, sending a shiver down your spine and you found yourself wishing his lips were closer to yours. 

“Yeah, I do. I hate you and your dumb voice and the way you always wear that stupid compression shirt to show off your stupid muscles and I hate your dumb attractive face and the way you're so stupidly tall and-” Your words catch in your throat when Gojo leans down to be face to face with you, his sapphire eyes darkening as they pierced into yours. 

“Oh yeah?” The husk in his voice paired with his proximity had you subconsciously squeezing your thighs together, breaths coming out in short pants from your ranting as you stared up at him wide-eyed. "Looks like it's you who's fluent in bullshit sweetheart cos this sounds more like a love confession to me," One of his hands reached up to grab your chin and tilt your face up towards his, thumb brushing teasingly over your bottom lip, making its way into your mouth and pressing lightly onto your bottom teeth - giving you no choice but to open your mouth, embarrassment coursing through you at the gesture. His smirk only widened at the action, his thumb pressing lightly onto your tongue, mind already racing with different scenarios, ‘Hm, maybe another time…’ he thought as he took his thumb away to grab the back of your neck to lessen the gap between you two.

You subconsciously lean into him, your body betraying you in every way. Eyes fluttering shut, heart beating impossibly fast, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You feel the warmth of his palm as his hand rests on the back of your neck, pulling you close, - closer and closer until his lips meet yours in a tender kiss. Your hands travel up from his chest, knocking over his baseball cap in the process, nails grazing his undercut softly, drawing him impossibly closer to you. Fingers moving further into his hair, you pull the soft white strands in a show of desire, resulting in a deep groan being let out into your mouth by Gojo as he presses his hips into yours in retaliation. A soft whine leaves you and you swear you feel him smirk before gently prodding his tongue against your lips. You part them for him, his tongue intertwining with yours in a dance of passion, your own hips now greedily grinding up into him. The warmth from his mouth disappears, his hot breath hitting your neck bringing you back to reality as your eyes slowly open only to find him staring at you with that cheeky smile of his. “Someone was enjoying herself hm?” His voice was gravelly as he spoke, eyes flitting back to your lips every so often. “Shut up Gojo.” You whispered, still very obviously affected from what was possibly the best kiss of your life as you rolled your eyes. 

“Oh come onnn, I think we’re past this, say Satoru for me baby.” Twinkling cerulean eyes bored into yours, watching you become increasingly flustered at the pet name. You turned away from him defiantly, refusing to speak but that only urged him on further, voice like dripping honey as he leaned down to speak into your ear. “C’mon sweetheart, you can do it, I believe in you. Look at me and say my name with that sweet voice of yours for me hm?” Gulping, you look up at him with wide eyes and warm cheeks, mouth parting ready to speak, when there's a series of knocks against the closet door, Suguru's deep voice a mere echo in your ears. A loud groan was let out above you as Satoru threw his head back in annoyance, “Ugh, so close. It’s okay princess, I’ll make you scream it soon enough,” he said with a wink as he finally got off of you whilst picking up his forgotten cap from the floor and placing it backwards on his head. He looks down, a hand reaching out to help you up. You take his hand and he pulls you up, biting his lips when you look up at him with those pretty eyes and for some reason he can’t bring himself to look away, both of you forgetting the fact that you were supposed to be getting out of the room.

"Yo Satoru, time's up get outta there." Light floods in as Suguru flings the door open, and your throat gets dry once you notice the desperation darkening Satoru's eyes. With heavy breaths, heaving chests and faces flushed with passion, neither of you seem to be able to look away from the intensity emitting from each other. At this point, there isn't a single thought in your head other than the man standing in front of you, looking at you with so much passion that you fear you'd never be able to look at another man without being reminded of him. The sound of a throat clearing brings both of you back to reality, Surguru watching you with a knowing smirk and crossed arms. Satoru on the other hand, doesn’t even acknowledge his best friend, instead opting to reach for your wrist, practically dragging you away down the other end of the hallway to where his room is. “Fucking took them long enough my god…” Suguru mutters under his breath, making his way back to his room already excited to tell the others about your escapade. 

Meanwhile, Satoru has you pushed up against the door of his bedroom, lips impatiently clashing with yours, hands caressing each other frantically. His cold hands had slipped under your shirt making you hiss slightly. His hands continued to make their way up, his thumbs teasingly rubbing your nipples through your bra, your whimpers getting lost in his mouth. Your own hands were gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You feel one of his hands moving down to unbutton your jeans, his pinky finger swiping the skin just above the waistband of your underwear, making you buck your hips needily into him. “Fuck baby, I can feel how wet you are through your panties. Messy girl aren’t you?” He mumbles, nipping your ear softly as his fingers start to tease your slit through your underwear. Your whimpers only encourage him further, pushing your panties to the side, tips of his fingers rubbing your clit. Your body was growing responsive to his touch, leaning further and further into him, face buried in his chest as you feel yourself get impossibly wetter. Soft pants left your mouth, one of your hands shyly reaching down to grab his bulge through his sweatpants making him moan into your neck, your eyes widening when you feel just how big he is. You let out a particular loud squeal when two of his long fingers entered you without warning, body squirming as you tried to adjust to their size. Satoru had resorted to biting and sucking your neck in order to hold back his moans as you continued palming him, your cute little whimpers making him harder underneath your hand. His voice comes out in a growl, eyes now boring into yours, fingers relentlessly going in and out of you, painting stars in your vision. “T-toru…” The whimper escaping you had his gaze softening slightly, “I know baby, I know. Be a good girl for me and take it, yeah?” Your eyes screwed shut as you nodded weakly at his words, the praise making your pussy clench around his fingers.

"Shit baby you're so fucking tight around my fingers, you sure ya can take my cock? I don't think it'll fit in that tight little pussy of yours" He leans down to playfully nip on your ear and there's a taunting smile playing on his lips when he meets your eyes again. A defiant look crosses your face, the need to prove him wrong still as strong as ever, even if he is currently turning you into a brainless mess. "I can take it…" your retaliation would've been much more believable to him if your words weren't beginning to slur, coming out in soft pants. So Satoru did what he knew how to do best.

He teased. Mercilessly. 

"Aw my pretty little baby thinks she can take it? Yeah well, you're gonna have to cum around my fingers first if we wanna fit my dick in you sweetheart. But I don't know how much I'm willing to let you cum." His taunts are followed by a cruel curl of his fingers, his knuckles bullying your inner walls, your juices dripping down onto his wrist from how wet you were. You were so so close, fingers clenching around the front of Satoru's shirt, your head buried in his chest as your eyes were scrunched closed in pleasure, small tears threatening to fall from your lash line. 

“You fucking dickhead let me cum please,” you mumble out into his shirt, his fingers relentless in their teasing turning your desperation into frustration. 

“Yeah? You wanna cum baby? Beg for it.” The words coming out of his mouth were nothing short of torture for you as he stopped his movements, fingertips now rubbing your clit in gentle circles, all the while looking down at you with that infuriating smirk of his. See, usually it would take more than those three words for you to listen to Satoru Gojo of all people, but considering the fact that his fingers alone were making you see stars, it was clear to all what your choice was. 

“Please…” you breathe out, face finally coming up from your hiding place in his chest to look up at him with blown pupils, tears still pooled in your eyes and wobbly lips. Gojo’s breath hitched when you made eye contact with him, his throat going dry at the mere sight of your already dishevelled appearance. Fuck, it made him want to ruin you even more so who was he to deny your pretty plea. “Only cos you asked so nicely”, he whispers into your ear, teeth scraping against your lobe, his fingers going in and out in the most toe-curling ways. You felt your eyes roll back as one of your hands clutched the front of his shirt, the other palming him through his sweats, mouth open, letting out what Satoru believed was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard as you squeezed around his fingers, thighs shaking ever so slightly as he continued rubbing soothing circles on your clit.

Satoru’s half-lidded eyes were stuck to you, the image of you cumming on his fingers now permanently etched into his mind. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, a groan emitting from the back of his throat, but of course he couldn’t help himself from muttering yet another cheeky remark. 

“You know, for someone who claims to ‘hate’ me so much, you seemed to enjoy cumming on my fingers a bit too much.” The glare you throw up at him would usually have more venom but seeing as you just had what could only be described as the best orgasm of your life (although you would never admit this to his face), all your ‘glare’ did was make Satoru’s smirk widen. 

"F-fuck you Gojo,” 

"That's the plan sweetheart."  

In a matter of seconds, you felt arms snaking under your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly and dropping you onto the middle of his bed, navy blue silk sheets rippling underneath you. Of course he would have fucking silk bedsheets, rich prick. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted when you see Satoru standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you with nothing but lust in his eyes, his tongue coming out to swipe across his lips hungrily as he slowly starts taking that damn black compression shirt off, making a show out of it as he does so. Trust him to be able to turn into a stripper at will. You gulp, scanning him down whilst he makes his way over to you, eyes locking onto the outline of his cock through his grey tracksuits. He’s now on top of you, forearms on either side of your head caging you in, soft strands of white hair falling over his eyes; eyes which he hadn’t taken off you since he locked the door. 

“You’re awfully close,” The words leaving your mouth are barely louder than a whisper and he could feel your breath hitting his lips as you spoke. 

“Problem, sweetheart?” He whispers back, leaning his face down impossibly closer to yours, his fingers gently snaking in between yours at the sides of your head. You bite your lip in anticipation, “No but it will be if you don’t fucking do something,” the retort leaves you before you could think, impatience radiating off you as you look at him through your lashes.

“Knew you secretly had a thing for me this whole time.” He lets out a low chuckle and before you could snap back at him, his lips come crashing down onto yours, hands squeezing yours essentially pressing you down further into his annoyingly comfortable mattress. He grabs both of your wrists into one of his hands, the other making its way down your hips and into your jeans, tracing the waistband of your panties. Meanwhile, your lips have resorted to leaving small kisses across his jawline, sucking little marks down the side of his neck making Satoru let out a soft whine into your ear. And you decide very quickly that you like the noise he just made so, of course, you bite down onto the junction between his neck and his shoulder, one of your hands leaving his grip and sneaking into the waistband of his tracksuits, straight into his boxers stroking his (very hard) length, causing him to let out a quiet growl, his face buried in your neck. 

Evidently, this was his last straw. 

Here you were getting up close and personal with his neck and the next thing you know he’s flipped you over onto your stomach, hands dragging your jeans and panties down your legs, throwing them onto the floor carelessly. “Fuckkk I can’t wait to ruin you,” he practically growls the words out as his palm lands a loud smack onto your ass, a squeal of surprise escaping you, your head turning back to look at him with narrowed eyes and you swear you nearly came on the spot from seeing him kneeling behind you, toned abs on full display, that stupid baseball cap still backwards on his head as he admired your half-naked body sprawled on his bed.

“What? I’m only saying the truth” he shrugs whilst ridding himself of his tracksuits, dragging his boxers along, his hard cock springing up hitting the base of his stomach. His hand comes up to stroke it lazily, and you keep looking back at him, your pupils blown wide, almost mesmerised by his actions as he lets out a soft moan when his thumb swipes across his tip. Your body squirms at his actions, the need to feel him inside you growing by the second and he notices, of course he notices his gaze hasn’t been anywhere else but you this whole time. You feel his cold hands grip your hips, a shiver running down your spine as he manoeuvers your hips upwards, “Ass up for me sweetheart,” he mumbles, his knees pushing yours outwards and spreading your legs open in the process. 

“There we go, good girl. So wet for me hm?” His sweet mumbles went straight to your core, your pussy getting embarrassingly wetter with every word coming out of his mouth. You let out a staggered breath, feeling him get closer to where you needed him most, the tip of his cock teasingly rubbing up and down your slit, eyes fixated on how your pussy seemed to clench around nothing. “Satoru I swear to god if you don’t- ” your grumble was interrupted by a loud squeal as he finally inserted himself into you with one swift movement. 

“Fucckkk you’re so tight, this what you wanted princess?” he groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure, his hat falling off his head in the process. The hand that wasn’t gripping your hips reached back to retrieve his hat, placing it haphazardly on your head, a wide smirk gracing his lips as he admired you, your ass still squirming against him as you tried to adjust to his length with soft whimpers leaving your lips. He pulls out, leaving only his tip inside you before slamming himself back in as you whine out a loud “Toruuuu” into the pillow that was currently clutched to your chest, forearms pressed into the mattress to hold yourself up. He starts moving in and out, irritatingly slowly at first, just to antagonise you that little bit more, make you that little bit more needy for him. Because, fuck he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing the mouthy brat that always had a snipy remark for everything he did be at a loss for words, going dumb on his cock when he hadn’t even started fucking her yet. 

“Is this what all the girls were raving about? Cos right now I’m incredibly unimpressed Satoru,” you breathe out, a cheeky smile playing on your lips as you turn your head back , eyes finding his behind you. His eyes narrow as they stare back at you, not amused by your taunts in the slightest - so he picks up the pace, hips slamming into you as your mouth falls open, fingers tightening around the pillow underneath you, head falling down to your chest as you try to muffle the sounds threatening to escape you from the sudden pleasure. One hand is gripping your hip so hard, you were sure there would be a mark there and the other is teasingly running up and down your clothed spine. 

“O-oh fuck why do you have to feel so gooddd” you pant out begrudgingly, the end of your sentence forming into a whine as your hips moving back in sync against him. “Yeah? Ya still unimpressed? Or should. I. Go. Harder.” Each word was accompanied by a particularly hard thrust, your moans getting too loud for your liking, and you lose all sense of control in your body as you feel yourself move up the mattress with each thrust. The hand teasing your spine bunches the back of your shirt in his fist as he pulls you back onto his cock, “Now where do you think you’re going sweetheart? God, you have no idea how fucking good you look right now.” he breathlessly mumbles out, his voice deeper as he watches you struggle underneath him, your hair splayed out on your back, his hat still on your head, knuckles turning white from clutching onto the pillow so hard and the sweetest sounds leaving your swollen lips. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life, feeling yourself leaking down your thighs and of course Satoru takes note of this, his free hand swiping the dripping wetness from the inside of your thigh with his nimble fingers, moving to circle your clit in slow movements, his thrusts getting faster. “S-so good holy fuck~” you whine out, eyes rolling back into your head. 

A snicker escapes Satoru as he watches you fall apart further, mouth open and drool threatening to drip down the corner of your mouth as your cheek is squished onto the pillow underneath your head, your soft whimpers and pants making him want to fuck you harder. He moves his hand from your clit to grab your jaw, making you twist your head to face him as he rudely shoves two of his fingers into your mouth and you instinctively start sucking on them, drool now freely dripping down your chin as he pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue in the process. He kisses his teeth in faux annoyance “Tch, messy girl aren’t you?” He taunts, leaning his body down onto yours, his other hand brushing back the hair sticking to your forehead in an almost sweet gesture in comparison to the way he was practically slamming into you, and the cute moment was effectively ruined when he bunches your hair into a makeshift ponytail pulling your head back, his hat falling off your head all while thrusting into you deeper. You let out a particularly loud squeal, muffled by his fingers in your mouth and his smirk widens, repeatedly hitting that same spot with the same vigour as he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Fuck you’re taking me so well, such a good girl for me.” He removes his fingers from your mouth, tilting your jaw to the side as his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss, his tongue swirling around yours, his hips never seeming to falter in the cruel pace he’s set out for your pussy. All you could do was whine into his mouth, any semblance of speaking having already left you the second he had put his cock in you and with the way he was hitting that spot inside you, you don’t think you’d be able to speak again. He pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you, spit dripping down your chin as you look at him with clouded eyes and a flushed face. 

“Look at you pretty girl, fucked you stupid haven’t I?” he mutters, looking at you with such awe, his hand still gripping onto your jaw as he leans his body down onto yours, his cock now reaching deeper into you as his thrusts start to become harder, your body jolting and your moans getting louder with every move. “T-toru, ‘m close,” I pant out, letting out small sniffles. “Yeah? You wanna come for me?” he taunts, his hips slowing down on purpose, the hand holding your hair pulling your head back further with a harsh tug for his lips to scatter soft kisses and nibbles on the sides of your neck as you nod impatiently, tears brimming in your eyes. Another whine escapes you as you look at him pitifully, pupils blown wide and lips trembling as you become desperate for release, grinding back onto his dick for in need of more friction. He tuts, his hands moving to grip your hips, stilling your movements. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he grits out, the hand on your jaw moving to the back of your neck and pinning you down, cheeks squished onto the mattress. “You wanna come, you beg for it like the good girl I know you are, understand?” Tears of frustration were now freely running down your cheeks, your face an absolute flushed mess of tears and drool and the sight of you was enough to make Satoru cum right there and then. He thought he should be getting an award for the amount of self control he’s shown so far. But he was quickly brought back to reality when he heard your precious, albeit muffled, voice whimper out a “Toruuu pleaseee~ please lemme cum”, paired with those pretty big eyes of yours and your pussy walls clenching almost teasingly around him, made him choke back a moan. And when you were begging so prettily, how could he say no to you? 

“That’s my girl” he groaned, pressing a soft kiss on the side of your head before his hips once again began snapping into you relentlessly, the warmth from his body almost lying on top of your back making your head spin. His thumb found its way back into your parted mouth once more, pressing into the back of your bottom teeth, forcing your mouth open further causing even more drool to spill from the corners of your mouth, rendering you a helpless mess underneath him. His free hand slithered its way down to your clit, fingertips rubbing it tantalisingly slowly, your legs were already shaking and his ministrations on your clit made you want to close your legs. Your actions were quickly stopped by Satoru, his hand gripping your thigh pushing your leg further out, your fingers gripping onto the sheets in front of you for dear life at this point. “Keep 'em open,” he hissed out, fingers going back to your clit once he felt your walls squeeze around his dick. “C-cumming Toru~” your words were muffled and barely comprehensible as you babbled around his spit-covered thumb in your mouth. “Yeah? Cum for me sweet girl, c’mon you can do it,” He purred out, the sound of your wet pussy and his hips snapping into yours filling the room. Your jaw went slack, his thumb leaving your mouth to now rub soothing circles onto your jawline as he watched you come undone beneath him, his breath staggering as his self-control was slowly disappearing. “There you gooo, such a good girl. You did such a good job for me baby~” He cooed into your ear, his other hand going gently up and down your spine. “Can you hold on a bit more f’me?” he asks, checking in on you with a soft look in his eyes, and you nod, still dazed from your orgasm. He lets out a small chuckle at the state of you, “Good, cos I’m not done,” he grits out, flipping you over onto your back and resuming his thrusts in you all while looking down at you, his chest glistening with sweat, the front strands of his hair sticking to his forehead slightly. You bite your lip, looking up at him with wide eyes and you bring your arms up tiredly looping one around his neck bringing him closer down to you as the other brushes away the hair from his forehead, mimicking his earlier actions.

“Fuck ‘m so close sweetheart” he whimpers out, his head falling into the crook of your neck as his steady rhythm wavered slightly. “Cum f’me Toru~” you breathe out sweetly into his ear, your hands tangled in his hair as you hold him close to you and Satoru swore he saw heaven when he heard those words in his ear as he lifts his head from his spot in your shoulder, panting out. “W-where do you w-” before he could even finish his question you looked him straight in the eyes and whimpered out your answer, wrapping your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his back, pulling him impossibly closer to you.. “Inside please…” A loud groan leaves Satoru’s lips as he throws his head back at your words. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me sweetheart,” he grumbles out, his hips staggering as he cums, filling you up with his warm load and you stare up at him through wet lashes, clenching around him purposefully just to hear him whimper again. 

He collapses on top of you, sweaty chest sticking to your equally sweaty shirt, letting out a huff, mumbling in your ear, “Best. Fuck. Ever.” and you couldn’t help but stifle a giggle, running your fingers through his hair gently. “Shut it Gojo,” you retort, biting back a smile when his head whips out of his hiding place in your neck, face contorting into an expression which could only be described as complete disbelief and confusion. “Sweetheart I just fucked you speechless on my cock and you wanna go back to last name basis? Be so for real right now.” Although your face flushed at his words, you burst into giggles at his last statement. Trust Satoru Gojo to still have the audacity to be sassy after sex. 

“Sorry Toru~” you purr out, nails grazing up and down the back of his neck.

“Better.” he mumbles out, lips formed into a slight pout as his face plops back down onto your chest. 

“So like… you still hate me?”

“Ehhh, guess you’re not so bad after all.”

“Are you just saying that 'cos I made you cum?”

“Yeah.”

“Fucking brat.”

ミ★ notes from star: the ending was a bit rushed but i hope you enjoyed it lovelies!

prettyngeto © 2024. all rights reserved - please do not plagiarise, translate, steal and repost any of my works on any social platforms for whatever reason.

[rainrot4me]

Rain’s Creepypasta Masterlist

▸ all of my works considering the creepypasta characters. posts, writing, headers, and dividers belong to me. enjoy yourself!

HORNY FOR A KILLER? YEA, ME TOO ▸

misc

Kinktober 2024

Good Vibrations {jeff the killer} {eyeless jack} {ben drowned} - in which you own a vibrator

Sick Days - The Creepypasta guys are feeling a little under the weather. You, their lovely partner, spend the day taking care of them (whether they like it or not).

blurbs

{one} {two}

one-shots

Do You Think About Her? - Jeff liked to tease Toby about his lack of experience with women. So, when coming home from a mission with the two, you decide to tell Jeff off, spurring him into a jealous fit to see how far he can push you both.

Clean Knife, Bloody Blade - When you refuse to get out of bed due to terrible cramps, Jeff tries his best to coax you back. But when you cry and whine to him, the killer presses to resolve your problem, willing to do whatever he can to help…

Three's A Crowd - Video games can be emotionally intense, especially when you’re butting heads with the two idiots yelling at each other. So when Jeff and Ben decide to break their tie in another way, you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time: right in the middle.

series

Coming Soon

headcannons

General - Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Jeff as a character.

blurbs

{one}

one-shots

Just Relax - You’re stressed. Jack knows how to fix that.

series

On Unholy Terms {part 1} - You’re an exorcist sent by the church to investigate a graveyard deemed to be unholy. After stumbling upon a ‘demon’, your determination quickly falters.

headcannons

General - Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Jack as a character.

blurbs

{one}

one-shots

Do You Think About Her? - Jeff liked to tease Toby about his lack of experience with women. So when coming home from a mission with the two, you decide to tell Jeff off, spurring him into a jealous fit to see how far he can push you both.

Return The Favor - Stumbling in on your neighbor’s chopped-up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them the necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not-so-subtle love note hidden away.

My Muse - What if the Creepypasta characters were real-life killers idolized the same way horror movie slashers were? Kids dressing up as Ghostface or Pennywise? More like kids decorated as Jeff the Killer or Slenderman! You chose to dress as your favorite mass murderer, Ticci Toby- and, oh, how he couldn’t get enough of it. He had never seen someone look so good in his goggles.

series

Refuge For Two {part 1} - You decide to spend the weekend at your family’s cabin during a snowstorm after a particularly stressful week. When you find an injured Toby, your need to care for him turns into his need for you.

headcannons

General - Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Toby as a character.

blurbs

{one}

one-shots

Behind The Veils - Hiking to capture the perfect sunrise photo for your portfolio, you stumble upon a supposedly abandoned cabin, your curiosity driving you to investigate. When you're met with two very large and very aggressive masked men, they decide that they'll put you to good use.

Let Me Hear You - Walking the same path every day while listening to music is your routine. Humming along, Masky makes it his routine to follow you. Until you wander somewhere you shouldn’t…

Outrun, Undone - Your body hurt, heaving and clawing to escape. They were catching up, laughter echoing through the dense trees as you ran, praying for your stamina to hold. But you knew you weren’t fast enough, and so did they…

series

Coming Soon

headcannons

Coming Soon

blurbs

{one}

one-shots

Keep It Rolling - You and your friend decide to see if you can find ghosts in an abandoned asylum as you record the whole thing. When you run into Hoodie, he thinks it’d be fun to record you instead.

Behind The Veils - Hiking to capture the perfect sunrise photo for your portfolio, you stumble upon a supposedly abandoned cabin, your curiosity driving you to investigate. When you're met with two very large and very aggressive masked men, they decide that they'll put you to good use.

Outrun, Undone - Your body hurt, heaving and clawing to escape. They were catching up, laughter echoing through the dense trees as you ran, praying for your stamina to hold. But you knew you weren’t fast enough, and so did they…

series

Coming Soon

headcannons

Coming Soon

blurbs

{one}

one-shots

Whispers In The Woods - Prepped your whole life to complete a ritual to hand yourself over to a monster, you demand the reason why. When he gives you the answers, he demands your body.

Take It - Nightmarish visions drive you to seek out their sender, constant paranoia driving you mad. But when you find out he intends to make you work for him, he realizes you can’t be broken like the others. So he must take a more… intensive approach.

series

Coming Soon

headcannons

Coming Soon

blurbs

Coming Soon

one-shots

Three's A Crowd - Video games can be emotionally intense, especially when you’re butting heads with the two idiots yelling at each other. So when Jeff and Ben decide to break their tie in another way, you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time: right in the middle.

series

Coming Soon

headcannons

Coming Soon

blurbs

Coming Soon

one-shots

Don't Close Your Eyes Yet - From the first moment he laid his eyes on you at the fairgrounds, Jack knew he needed you. So going about it the only way he knew how, he began to give you dreams of him, preparing you for the night he would eventually take you himself.

series

Coming Soon

headcannons

Coming Soon

blurbs

Coming Soon

one-shots

Smoke And A Light - When you're forced to remain a resident of the Slendermansion, hearing tales of the outside world is riveting. So, when Clockwork brings back some souvenirs, you couldn't possibly pass them up.

series

Coming Soon

headcannons

Coming Soon

blurbs

Coming Soon

one-shots

Better Than Him - Nina wanted nothing more than to impress Jeff. So, as her best friend, she sought your help on how to get his attention. But when a quick lesson on how to kiss turns intense quickly, you feel it's only right to prove to her she's worth more than him.

Pretty Girl - The bar was Nina’s scene, her favorite place to be with you by her side. But when some creep tries to extract revenge in the middle of a crowd, you’re both forced to do what you do best. But when confidence falters, you have to show just how worthless guys like that can be.

series

Coming Soon

headcannons

Coming Soon

▸ viewer discretion is advised 𐚁₊⊹

[prettyboykatsuki]

best friend yuuji? you’ve just rang the dinner bell

i was just thinking like.

im adding this after writing but this is soooo fucking long lmao im sorry.

tags for fem!reader (reader is referred to as a girl many times, no explicit mention of anatomy), best friends to lovers, 18+ etc

okay. i feel like you and yuuji meet in a stereotypical way

yuuji is your best friend. you met when you guys were sat next to each other in school (classic case of quiet kid and loud kid) but yuuji is uber friendly so he naturally made friends with you. you guys always clicked. in a weird way. no one else could ever fully grasp it

but you just get each other. you have similar mindsets and find each other comfortable. so you grow up and into each other - and become best friends after a long while. he comes over a lot to yap while you study and while it looks one-sided - you often take care of and look after yuuji and make sure he's not carrying too much at once.

anyway . you have a really good relationship. you're not glued at the hip but it's like, you stick together so much people often ask where the other is when one of you is missing. you get older to around middle school and puberty starts to really . hit you know.

a lot of girls confess to yuuji in that time. it's normal. sure he's rowdy and loud but he's the kind of good guy you notice when you really talk to him. fundamentally good, and not crude and shallow like other boys your age. popular but not obviously. it's the first time in your relationship you are self conscious about being his best friend and just happening to be a girl

there's rumors and stuff. you and him never talk about it until some stuff happen (like yuuji seeing it cause problems) and then you talk. the gist of it is basically that - you're yuujis best friend in the world and nothing could change that. it doesn't matter who you are. he's just trying to show you he cares

and you realize right then you are in love with him.

years go by. you get a little older. you go through highschool much like middle school - with no boyfriend. yuuji dates infrequently but usually gets broken up with. this pattern repeats into college.

(what you don't know, because yuuji never bothered to ask - is that the girls he used to date broke up with him simply because he wouldn't shut up about you. everything he should've done with a girlfriend he did with you already. he even keeps pictures)

when you get into college and grow into adulthood, you and yuuji are still extremely close. you chose to stay home and so did he - so not much is very different. except now you're meeting all sorts of new people and having new relationships form.

you don't know how exactly it comes up. you're studying for an upcoming midterm, yuuji is talking about how he got turned out by the cute girl that he works with and he pauses and asks.

"you know, i know you study hard but you should have fun too," he says this laying in your bed like he owns it, turning his head to look at you where you're bent over your desk. "haven't you thought about getting a boyfriend now that you're in college?"

you are good at brushing this off. you've been doing it for years. you do not tell yuuji that you don't date guys even after you get asked out because you're in love. you just shrug and tell him straight.

"i already told you. im not going to think about dating until i'm finished with school and i've held my career for two years."

"but aren't you bored?" yuuji asks, sincere. he doesn't press you but he is being nosy. "i don't play around that much either but i don't know. a little is healthy. and you've always working hard. playing around with handsome guys might be fun."

"not gonna change my mind."

"don't you get i dunno," he lays on his back. "sexually frustrated, though?"

you pause. you flinch. you've never talked about this before.

you clear your throat a little. "don't be inappropriate. and i do the job myself just fine."

"i guess girls don't have to worry about losing their virginity as much as guys but,"

you try to move on as swiftly as you can from talking about this in relation to yourself. "you make it sound like you slut around, yuu-chan."

he laughs a little behind you. "well no but you know. it's nice laying with another person. only if we're together though."

"yeah, sure. good for you. stop pestering me about it then and go get a girlfriend."

"so mean," he replies, laying back on his stomach. "but do you really not care at all about losing it?"

you frown, swallowing the words explaining that you do care but not just anyone will do. you give him a half truth. a lie of omission.

"it's not that i don't care but it has to be with someone i trust a lot. i don't know any guys like that, so,"

"ehh?? what about me?"

you freeze. you're sure you're mishearing it. "what about you?"

"well... you trust me right? so i could help you with it until you do find a boyfriend,"

you turn around. surely not. surely you misheard. surely he did not tell you to have sex with him so casually. you turn around to verify he's fucking with you.

only to find the most blatant sincerity you've ever seen. he's never been entirely stupid but well. he has his moments.

"do you even know what you're saying? you have to get it up for me to do that."

"well sure. but im reliable and trusrtworthy. and maybe it'll relax you a bit."

you think at that point you're definitely losing your shit but no. unfortunately your guy is dead serious. and you know, yuuji is an idiot but he's not enough of an idiot to not know it's unconventional - but in the moment, in the second he asks, his reasoning is for good. he gets a weird little feeling thinking about you losing it to someone you don't trust you know?

you obviously debate with him on this. you refute him, even - telling him that there's no way he thinks that's a good idea. and you go back and forth and you stop him at some point. to just be like

"do you even think you could kiss me?"

and yuuji just stands to his feet, leans over your desk, and kisses you.

and well. after that, it's kind of like you can't keep your hands off of each other.

it's clumsy your first time. you have no experience. but yuuji is your best friend, and he's himself - so he's patient and gentle and sooo very helpful. he teaches you to kiss and breathe through your nose and open your mouth and all sorts of other things. he's big so it's kind of hard to put it in but he takes is time. the sex feels really, really good and is intimate - almost naturally because that's your very best friend in the entire universe.

and so like. you guys have sex. you dont really plan it or anything but somehow when you get alone - it just gets so, so tense and neither of you can seem to cool down.

and how could you, you know? you've always wanted to fuck yuuji and maybe, seemingly, he wants it too. he gets so red when you bend down on your knees and try to blow him and it makes you so confident. you just... start fucking all the time. and you guys have been so close that no one cares if you two are alone together or not.

and so like. you begin this intensely sexual relationship and miraculously unchanged relationship. like you hang out as normal. and you fuck alot. and it's amibigous and vague.

you're kind of torn up about it, but yuuji is the kind of guy to not hook up with more than one person - so it's not hard to delude yourself into dating. he's already sweet and cuddly and thoughtful. and you know, you've always been so, so strict with yourself. you're really on top of your shit you know? so you reason with yourself, fine. ill just do this and see what happens. it's not like you.

(but it's hard to be strict with yourself when he makes you cum six times you know.)

so weirdly, in a weird way - you're kind of fine. you're a bit numb, a bit adjusted to it.

BUT YUUJI? OH YUUJI IS GOING THROUGH IT.

look. i mean what i said about yuuji being sincere and dense about this whole thing. he really does just want to help you and he doesn't think anything of it. sure sex is for someone you love, but yuuji does love you so it's fine to him.

the problem? the problem is you go from looking like a vague, amorphous and wonderful friend whose appearance he rarely thinks of (outside of beautiful, because of course you are - you're his best friend)

and instead become the most insanely fuckable person he has ever laid his eyes on and it is . ruining his life.

again. it's not as if yuuji ever thought you were unattractive. beauty is bigger than appearance to him, always has been - and you've always been the most beautiful girl in every room because you had a lovely character to you. he adores you. as a friend.

he never.... saw you in any other way. not even when other people kept assuming he did. you're a girl so he knew people would try to box you into that with him regardless but it was never like that. or at least, in his head it was never like that.

sure, whenever he dates someone - he is subconsciously compares them to you and sure, no matter what the person he has the most fun with is you but that's normal right? best friends is a big deal after all

you have sex for the first time and it's like. all of a sudden he's seeing all these aspects of you completely different. it's such a dramatic shift for him. like.

but it's not.... just your body really. of course not. he's not just lusting after ou but there's just something different about how you look in his eyes. something about how you readjust your sweater, how you wipe the corners of your mouth. something about the way you look at his place with shorts and a comfortable shirt just barely riding up your stomach and matching fuzzy socks (that are kinda matted from being worn)

all of this is just so, so fucking sexy now. he gets the weirdest fluttery feeling and just . can't help but be on you. you don't even know what you do to him either, and how could you? but god it destroys him. really ruins him to see you all doe eyed. know how you feel when you cling onto his biceps.

for the longest time - he can barely figure out whats doing it to him.

and then like. one day you're finished having sex and you're both so tired you fall asleep. and you're at his place - naked in his bed. he wakes up in the middle of the night. he moves the covers you know, to get up and get a towel - wipe you down.

and then you sort of hold onto him. still asleep. you let out a very soft whiny nooo, and he just. finds it so cute. so without thinking, he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead and tells you to keep sleeping which you comply with bc ur not awake anyway.

and then when he sits up again he's like. oh. shit shit shit. shit.

that's when it hits him that he's in love with you which is. troubling to say the least. not only because he feels guilty for ruining your friendship but also because he knows himself well enough to know there's no way he could hold himself back.

but he thinks about and... does he have too? he knows it won't be right away but you do this with him too. so maybe, just maybe, there's a chance right?

for what its worth, i do think you two end up together with a minimal amount of angst. but the amount of heavy ass pining...the months it goes on of you two getting insanely, unbearably intimate and then not talking about it. and like. yuuji tests the waters with you. kisses you before he leaves, and does all sorts of stuff but you always go with it. you both cover it up but eventually it all spills and i think that's mostly cause yuuji is so open ......

anyways.... best friend yuuji.... he is on my mind....

[jenscx]

GIRLS / GIRLS / BOYS — kim minjeong x f!reader

kim minjeong’s your best friend. you love her, obviously. but when did loving her become being in love with her?

TAGS — fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, highschool au, popular!minjeong, insecure reader, unrequited love, pining, slight sunghoon x reader, bisexual!minjeong, mentions of alcohol, cursing

WORDCOUNT — 6.4k

you had a type; delicate and gorgeous girls that definitely caused trouble, contrasting their looks. your ideal type comes in the form of kim minjeong, a girl that fits both the looks and personality. she was a cold beauty, one that you fawn over. her aloof and indifferent remarks in class, no doubt was the tipping point for you.

if she was a spider, you were a fly, one that gladly flew into her web of lies.

kim minjeong was an enigma— somehow keeping up her appearance as this visually appalling girl who would do no wrong, despite her actions.

“y/nnie,” minjeong’s enthralling voice whispers in your ear, “do you need help with that?”

that refers to the sheet of music you were currently holding. marked notes scribbled all over the paper, words like melody, accompaniment filled into the lines.

“ah… yes please.”

she’s enchanting, you think. minjeong leans over slightly, a small smile on her face. her now newly dyed blonde hair covers a portion of her face, only allowing you to gaze at her eyes. your own eyes trail down, from the crease in her forehead to the tip of her nose. it follows further down, to her glossy red lips, pouting at the sheet music.

“you made a mistake here,” the girl points out. her hazel eyes turn to you, crinkling into a smile, “y/n?”

you’re at a loss of words. normally, you had a lot of things to say, that’s why you joined the school’s debate club. but with minjeong? her beauty leaves you speechless.

“oh, thanks.”

“no problem,” minjeong checks the time, “hey, i gotta go. jiminie asked me to meet her for lunch.” you nod, snapping out of your delusions when minjeong refers to the volleyball captain with a nickname.

stop that, your brain says, she’s your best friend.

and your brain is right. kim minjeong will only ever be a friend. she wouldn’t be anything else, because she should settle for anything else. no doubt that she was someone who played with people’s feelings, but to her, you were off-limits.

without a best friend, who would she have?

and without her, who would you have?

kim minjeong was an enigma, yes, but she was also your best friend and coincidentally, the love of your life.

she was someone you dedicated songs to. the pining, unwillingness to admit your feelings, not being able to move on. as cliche as it sounds, you could not rid your feelings for her. how could you ever forget someone like kim minjeong? the crinkle in her eyes, the way she lights up when she sees a puppy, the soft gaze she lays on you, could you forget it all? you couldn’t. not in this lifetime, nor the next.

your heart automatically followed wherever she went. if minjeong decided one day that she wanted to uproot and migrate to europe, you would follow willingly. she was just someone that you would do anything for.

like pretending that you didn’t like chocolate just so you could give yours to minjeong. your teacher had a habit of giving out chocolate when you did well on a test, some sort of prize to be awarded for your hard work. you couldn’t resist minjeong’s puppy look towards the basket of chocolate and ended up pulling an all-nighter just to get a good mark for some chocolate.

it was all worth it though, the look on minjeong’s face when you handed her the bar.

(“don’t you like chocolate though?” she had asked warily.

“no, i don’t like eating sweet stuff,” you lied through your teeth.)

the look of happiness she had when you handed her a chocolate bar is something you would do anything to keep on her. minjeong makes you feel things— relief, exhilaration, excitement. she makes you feel vulnerable. she makes you feel human, alive. her presence in your life was the only reason you could live through each day. kim minjeong gives you strength, and is your weakness.

fingertips graze your elbow, slow touches trace the shape of your arm. a soft smile on minjeong’s face, you can only stare.

her gaze quickly darts away, smile brightening even more than it did with you. you follow her starry-eyed gaze, your heart breaking slightly when it landed on park sunghoon, the school’s star ice skater. he was somewhat like kim minjeong, quiet, unassuming and blessed with jaw-dropping features. another crack forms when you imagine the two of them together, because they do look good.

fate must be playing with you, since sunghoon turns around, an eyebrow raised at you two. you avoid his gaze while minjeong holds it. he must have left rather swiftly, since your best friend sighs dreamily and continues her rant about her new project partner.

your fists clench, forcing a smile onto your face as you listen to her. minjeong’s words barely enter your ears, since you’re too focused on that starstruck look in her eyes when she noticed sunghoon. you couldn’t blame her, he was a perfect match for her. it was only normal for her to gravitate to someone on par with her.

the background noise blurs, only the ringing alarms in your head existed at that moment. everything suddenly clicks. it’s like the universe has aligned perfectly for one second.

minjeong stares at you, worried. you barely said anything in response to her venting, only nodding and humming. your eyes were far cast, almost droopy.

“you good?” she reaches out to hold your hand.

you turn to her, shifting from her touch.

“yeah, just thinking.”

“about?” she questions.

no reply leaves your lips. it’s silent for a few moments. if anyone else saw the desperate look in your eyes, they would only feel sympathy. it was so damn frightening. frightening that there’s no guarantee you would be loved. frightening that the only person you would give anything for, would only leave you in the end.

“thinking about life.”

you didn’t know which was more tragic; the fact that you keep looking for minjeong everywhere you go, or the fact that she won’t be there one day to welcome you. maybe you shouldn’t desire so much. it would only end up hurting you.

“life,” minjeong repeated, “i think it’s pretty cool.”

you don’t respond.

“it’s pretty cool that we’re existing at the same time, together.”

it’s tragic.

“yeah, it is pretty cool,” you murmur, heart clenching into a grip belonging to kim minjeong.

you’re lying to your best friend.

the constant tug of attraction you feel towards minjeong bubbles lowly in your chest. as she converses happily with her other friends, you merely duck into your locker, pretending to be immersed in finding your textbook. you can feel when minjeong’s gaze lands on you. it burns through your skin, shocking your every vein. the bell rings and you sigh heavily. gulping as you try to manoeuvre your way through the crowd of students while simultaneously avoiding minjeong.

this situation (you didn’t know what else to call it), was brought upon by a striking realisation that you were high school seniors and that if you didn’t get your act straight, you would be stuck forever pining after your best friend.

a warm grip on your hand stops you.

“where are you going?” minjeong raises an eyebrow. you mumble, “home.”

“without waiting for me?”

“i… didn’t see you…” you murmur, nervously tugging on your bag strap, slung over your shoulder. your best friend huffs, throwing her own arm around your unoccupied shoulder, “well you’ve seen me now, so let’s go together.”

you freeze up, “i have a lot of homework… i need to rush home.” it was such a stupid excuse.

minjeong frowns. her arm in your shoulder doesn’t radiate the same warmth as before, it only weighs heavily, like the guilt in your heart.

“you’re kinda pale,” she remarks, “are you sure you’re okay?”

nodding, you shy away from her stare.

“you look sick, i don’t think you should walk back alone,” she says, an unfamiliar look on her face. you don’t know what she’s thinking.

you pull away from her embrace, “it’s okay, my mum’s at home. you should go hang out with your other friends.”

minjeong looks away, a flash of hurt shadowing her face before she retracts her hand.

“like who?”

shrugging, you turn away. something about minjeong makes you want to run far from her. the distance would hurt, but it seems that being around her hurt more. would you rather have minjeong as a friend, or not have her at all? you regret even becoming friends with her, it gave you a taste of her everlasting love. one that you would never receive the pleasure of acquiring.

“minjeong!” one of her friends called out.

her head turns and you take this opportunity to widen the distance between you and her.

you recognise this friend. hwang yeji, the vice-captain of the volleyball team. the group of girls behind yeji stare at you strangely. as she approaches, you cower behind your books.

“the girls were talking about the party yunjin’s holding later, just wanted to check if you were coming,” yeji says. minjeong glances at you. her hesitance makes yeji add, “park sunghoon’s going to be there.”

you resist the urge to tell minjeong not to go. your grip on your textbooks tightens.

“uh,” minjeong replies unintelligently, “i— i’m not sure? i don’t think i’ll go. i’ll text you guys later, or something.”

“you sure?”

your best friend turns to you, and she firmly nods, “yeah, i’m not going, i have something else to do.” you tilt your head curiously. minjeong wouldn’t give up the chance to see her crush so easily.

“okay, sure. let me know if you change your mind.”

minjeong waves her away and beams at you, “so, let’s go? i kinda need help with that chemistry homework mr lee just assigned. if you’re willing to help me, of course.”

you don’t have the heart to reject minjeong again. half-heartedly, you heave a sigh, “my house or yours?”

your reluctant agreement makes minjeong’s face light up. like a cute little puppy. she kinda reminds you of your neighbour’s dog.

“yours, obviously, it’s way closer,” minjeong rolls her eyes, bemused, “i missed your mum, is she cooking tonight?”

minjeong grabs ahold of your elbow, clinging onto it like a lifeline.

(she doesn’t know she’s yours.)

“don’t know,” you answer, skin heating up at her contact. your short sentences probably give your true feelings away, minjeong’s touch diminishing by the second. she sighs softly. guilt eats up at you, knowing minjeong would have more fun with her other friends rather than you. it’s all your fault that you can’t control your own feelings.

“what don’t you understand about the homework?” you ask, trying to reduce the awkward tension. minjeong shrugs halfheartedly, “everything. i wasn’t really paying attention during the lesson.”

you giggle at that, imagining your best friend dozing off in class. her head resting against her arm, lips parted and eyelashes fluttering shut. her hair parting perfectly, framing her small face. it wouldn’t be the first time seeing the sight. she would look so vulnerable and soft. sometimes, you want to shield her from the world.

“i finished most of it during lunch,” you tell her. minjeong stares at you incredulously, “you told me you couldn’t eat lunch with me because you were busy studying.”

your eyebrows raise, “is doing homework not studying?”

“well— no! it’s called homework y/n,” minjeong reasons, “you could have done it later and ate lunch with me.”

“then who would help you with your homework?” you retort back. minjeong gapes at you, like a fish out of water. you ignore her, muttering in faux annoyance, “maybe i shouldn’t help you anymore.”

minjeong bolts up, her bag almost smacking you in the face as she grabs onto you, forcing intense eye contact, “no! you have to help me! yizhuo sucks at chemistry and my other friends don’t even bother turning up for class!”

with a pondering look, you face away, pretending to think about what minjeong said.

regardless of your facade, you would always end up agreeing to her. but she doesn’t need to know that.

“please y/n!” minjeong begs, “you’re the only one!”

her words grip your heart, tearing it slightly. masking your bitterness with a smile, you pat her head, “just wanted to hear you say it.”

it’s true. you’ve always wanted to hear those words; minjeong telling you that you’re the only one for her, the only one who she trusts and relies on. you want to be the only one who’s exposed to all of her, the only one who can cause butterflies in her stomach to appear. you want to be her everything, only you, no room for anything else. because that’s what she is to you. your everything.

“you’re so mean!” minjeong whines. it’s adorable. you hate it. pinching her cheeks (and eliciting a small yelp from her), you reply, “you know i like teasing you.”

minjeong nods bashfully, her cheek flushed red from where your fingers previously brushed. she quickly sobers up, dragging you by the wrist. it’s your house, but the way she’s leading you, any stranger could think otherwise.

her fast pace despite her height swiftly brings you back home. you’re greeted by the sight of your mother’s back when you enter the front door. she’s humming cheerfully as she cuts up a variety of fruits.

“mum,” you greet, “minjeong’s here.”

your mother swerves around, she beams instantly when she spots the blonde standing next to you.

“oh, it’s been so long since y/n brought you here!” you glare at your mother, arguing back, “she was literally here last week.”

the older woman pays you no mind as she hugs minjeong, who eagerly returns it, throwing a smirk over your mother’s shoulder towards you. you’re reminded of the fact that your own mother probably prefers your best friend.

“did you get prettier, mum?” minjeong asks, dramatically gasping. your mother, despite being married and twice the age of minjeong, blushes like a schoolgirl. you roll your eyes and drag your best friend away from your mother, lest you witness their innocent flirting. you sigh in relief as the bedroom door slams shut behind you, drowning out the yells from your mother about you dragging minjeong away. your best friend merely snickers and makes herself at home. your eyes follow minjeong as she takes off her blazer and unbuttons her blouse, exposing the sharp angle of her collarbones.

you quickly look away when she sends you a curious stare.

“so,” you clear your throat, “what do you need help with?”

minjeong groans and pulls out her file, pouting as she takes out the worksheet. you sit next to her on the floor, leaning against your bed frame. luckily you had finished the worksheet already and understood the content rather easily.

as you explain the different questions, minjeong writes down notes, focused. you’re surprised at her diligence, normally minjeong would just whine and complain cutely about her homework whenever you would tutor her.

stray strands of baby hair fall against her forehead. she huffs, blowing them slightly. your eyes follow the puff of air.

“do you get it?” you ask softly. minjeong’s eyes flicker up to you, crinkling gratefully, “no, not really, but thanks for trying.”

you laugh, smacking minjeong’s shoulder gently.

“which part didn’t you understand? i’ll repeat it again.”

she merely shrugs, “it’s fine. i think i’m just doomed for chemistry. at least i have some notes now.” your smile fades before forming a frown. usually, she would beg you to keep going. her attitude now was a stark contrast from before. there was something bothering her.

“what’s wrong?”

minjeong glances at you, her lips pursed and unrevealing.

you somehow know what’s bothering her.

“you’re not burdening me, minjeong,” you murmur, “i’m happy to teach you.”

“that’s… i know, but it’s so… frustrating. i feel so stupid next to you. you’re always helping me out and i don’t do anything in return. i feel useless,” minjeong admits bashfully.

being minjeong’s best friend sucks. you hate it. how can someone like minjeong be so insecure beside you? if anything, you should be the one reconsidering your worth to her. the most popular girl in school’s best friend is some lame loser from the debate club. she shouldn’t be feeling like she’s useless. every second she’s on your mind. you would do anything for minjeong. and you wonder if you mean even a semblance to her life.

“you’re my best friend,” is all you can say, “helping you makes me happy.”

minjeong stares at you with wide eyes, tears brimming at the edge. her cheeks become increasingly rosy, tell-tale signs that she’s about to cry.

“you aren’t useless, i’m happy to teach you,” you repeat firmly.

seeing as she still has that defeated look on her face, she doesn’t seem to understand.

“i’m glad that you asked me to teach you. i’m happy that you rely on me for things like these.” you reach out a hand to wipe away the stray tear falling.

minjeong’s reply comes as a whisper, “then why don’t you rely on me too?”

your hand falters.

“i do,” you say in utmost sincerity.

“it doesn’t feel like you do,” she mutters, a pained look flashing across her face. perhaps, in your haste to protect your own feelings of affection, you have forgotten your duties as a friend first.

filled with guilt, you try to muster a comforting smile, “i know i’m closed off and it’s hard to read me,” minjeong nods, sniffling, “but with you, i try my best to be more open.”

maybe it’s a lie. maybe you do the opposite, building even higher walls when it comes to kim minjeong, in fear that she will be the one who breaks them down, allowing easy access to your vulnerability.

“do you really?” minjeong asks softly, distrusting. you can’t say it doesn’t hurt.

“i do, so please don’t say you’re useless.”

(because you're everything to me.)

“the stars would be so proud to know that their atoms created someone like you.” your words, filled with affection and truth. because really, some part of your soul has loved her since the beginning of everything.

“then maybe we’re from the same star,” minjeong replies. like soulmates, the words go unsaid.

“i think i’m okay with that.”

her eyes flicker back to yours, drawing you in with hypnotising big brown orbs. there’s a bubble formed around you, feeling as if time has stopped and all of the universe has aligned for a second. there’s only you and minjeong coexisting now. your hand stills, cradling her soft cheek and stroking it gently with your thumb.

“y/n,” her lips part, whispering your name. it just feels so right coming from her. hearing her voice murmur your name with such intimacy was heaven itself.

this situation is dangerous. you can’t control yourself. minjeong’s hand is resting on your thigh, sending shockwaves throughout your body. you can’t avert your eyes from her face. kim minjeong was too dangerous for you to be around.

with sheer willpower, you finally look away and drop your hand. it hurts to not look at minjeong, but it hurts more when you do, knowing that you will never get to have her like others will. her hand retracts immediately and she turns away.

out of the corner of your eye, you see minjeong hastily wiping the rest of her tears. it’s awkward. the silence and tension is damning.

you don’t know what to even say. you can’t look minjeong in the eye right now. if you did, maybe you would do something you would regret for the rest of your life.

“uh,” minjeong clears her throat and runs her fingers through her golden locks nervously, “i wanted to ask… do you wanna go to that party yeji mentioned?”

“why are you asking me?” you ask, genuinely curious. minjeong has never asked you before, knowing that you would much rather stay home than indulge in a night of dealing with hormonal teenagers in a sweaty crowd.

your best friend shrugs, “just thought since we’re graduating soon… maybe we should go together, for once.”

her words strike something in you. it is your last year, and you haven’t gone to a single party with minjeong. your reasons were that you might get drunk and do something stupid (probably confess to minjeong), and you did not want to potentially see minjeong all over someone. but with the hopeful glint in her eyes, you can’t bring yourself to deny her.

“okay,” you answer meekly, instantly receiving minjeong’s smile. the doubt of going to a party melts away, and instead a warm feeling of adoration sizzles.

maybe going to yunjin’s party won’t be so bad after all.

spoiler alert; it was, for mainly two reasons.

minjeong’s choice of a party fit was dastardly revealing. she probably had more skin than fabric showing, which as a best friend, you totally encourage, but as a best friend who’s also in love with her, it means that your eyes have not left her body since. the cropped white sleeveless top plagues your mind even as minjeong worms her way through the crowd.

your own clothes were tight against your skin, picked out by minjeong, who had spent more time on you than herself.

(“it’s your first time going to a party, y/n. you have to look jaw-dropping,” she had said, hand steadily drawing eyeliner onto you.)

minjeong eventually comes back to you, two drinks in her hands. your eyes snap away from her naked skin of her midriff, exposed by the shortness of her top.

“for you,” she grins, handing a drink to you.

your eyebrows raise.

“soju?”

“yeah, i know you don’t like the hard stuff,” she says, taking a sip of her own cup.

you raise the cup to your lips, tasting the sweet yet dizzy taste. humming in delight, your tongue darts out, cleaning the remnant from your glossy lips. minjeong smiles appreciatively at the sight, glad that you were finally letting loose.

a arm swings to wrap around your shoulder.

“surprised to see you here, y/n!” aeri grins widely, her smile rivalling that of the sun’s.

you settle into her touch, somewhat happy to see a recognisable face amongst the partygoers. if aeri was here, that probably meant jimin and yizhuo were somewhere nearby too.

“hey unnie,” minjeong greets, “I finally managed to get y/n out of her house.”

your smile falters.

why did it sound like a chore?

“that’s good, you only live once, y’know. let’s go dance y/n!” aeri exclaims. between the mess of people dancing and grinding up on each other, and the silence of the corner with minjeong, you would much rather stay with the latter. yet, the encouraging look from aeri pushed you to nod towards the sea of people.

minjeong’s hand flies to grasp onto your arm, an incredulous look on her face, “you’re dancing?”

you look at her over your shoulder, taking note of her furrowed brows, “yeah? i’m here for a reason… right?”

unable to refute that logic, her grip slackens and you’re dragged by aeri, who’s excitedly rambling about how fun parties were.

your best friend slips into the shadows of the house, nowhere to be found the next second you turned your head. well, at least you had aeri.

or, you did. the moment you whip back to talk to aeri, the girl had disappeared. panic shutters throughout your whole body. swarmed with sweaty bodies that radiated heat and the sickening smell of cheap beer, you desperately looked for a way out. your attempts go futile, unable to claw yourself away from the crowd of people. some familiar heads pop out; mark lee, self-proclaimed basketballer of the century, jang wonyoung, the girl with modelling agencies lining up to sign her when she graduates, park sohyun, certified girl crush of your school and girlfriend of equally popular zhou xinyu.

“hey!” someone yells loudly over the music. you instantly respond, distraught eyes tracking down the source of the voice. after a few seconds of looking, you catch park sunghoon staring at you with a hand stretched out.

shit. you think. turning back to the increasingly constricting crowd, you decide to take his hand and be pulled out instead of continuing to suffer.

free of the diminishing personal space you had, you let out a sigh of relief. you’ve never been happier to see sunghoon until now. the boy sends you an amused look. you probably look awful right now; you could feel your bangs sticking to your forehead, stained with perspiration and the sweat dripping down your neck made your top cling to your body uncomfortably.

“you good?” he asks softly, handing you a cup of water. you hesitate from taking it. sunghoon quickly takes a sip from it, stating, “i didn’t put anything inside.”

nodding, you gulp down the water like you’re dying from dehydration. finally quelling your parched throat, you take a good look at the ice skater.

jet black hair messily tousled. a plain, white t-shirt adorned with jeans. he wore a few accessories, like the sterling silver necklace around his neck. a boyish grin plastered on his face.

“i saw you come in, you looked a little,” sunghoon pauses, finding the right words, “out of place.”

“i don’t come to parties often,” you explain, feeling the need to converse with him as he had saved you.

sunghoon nods. he looks around for a bit before jutting at an empty corner, “let’s go there to talk. the music’s kind of making my head hurt.”

you would do anything to not get roped back into the dancing crowd.

the corner that you approached was right beside the staircase. damn, you stare at the intricate detailing of the railings, yunjin had good taste.

“why’d you come then? if you don’t like parties,” sunghoon asks curiously. you shrug, “my friend asked me to.” his inquisitive gaze doesn’t make you say anymore. after all, you don’t really want to talk about minjeong to her crush.

you lean back against the wall, muscles straining from tensing your whole body.

“your friend left you alone?”

“my other friend asked me to dance but she disappeared.”

sunghoon chuckles, “you looked like a fish out of water.”

rolling your eyes, you take another long gulp of water. somehow, you kind of understood why minjeong liked sunghoon. he was nice. and maybe if you were a boy and not her best friend, she would find you nice too.

“i never thought i would get to talk to you,” sunghoon suddenly professes.

you stare at him with wide eyes, stunned by his abrupt confession.

“i saw you for the first time during that debate competition,” he laughs to himself, “about the endangerment of animals.”

his eyes crinkle into a crescent of awe, “i remember thinking to myself, you must be the smartest person in our grade. then sometimes i see you staring, and it feels like you understand.”

and somehow, you know where this conversation is going. a feeling of agony crawls up your throat, threatening to blurt out that it wasn’t you that liked him.

“i’m sorry, this must be weird to hear.”

you force yourself to reply, “it’s fine.”

it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the constant buzzing of your phone. you feel bad when you see the plethora of texts minjeong has sent, all questioning your whereabouts. the last text was sent a minute ago, stating, ‘i think i see you.’

“we made eye contact once. it’s hard to admit but i kept thinking about it afterwards. i don’t know if i’m reading everything wrong but… do you like me?” he asks, eyes shining with hope. his body is awkwardly crouching down to meet your eyes.

as you struggle to answer him, a figure rapidly approaches.

“y/n! i’ve been looking for you everywhere— oh,” and of course, minjeong shows up now. no doubt she has heard the last part of sunghoon’s words. you direct a helpless look at her, praying that she lets you explain and everything will be fine.

“hello,” sunghoon greets, “sorry to take y/n away.”

he doesn’t look sorry.

minjeong nods, her entire body akin to one that’s frozen. deft fingers wrap around your wrist.

“i need to talk to you,” she says, staring into your eyes. sunghoon goes unacknowleged. unable to trust your voice, you merely nod meekly, bringing your hand up to wave half-heartedly at sunghoon as minjeong drags you away.

she brings you upstairs, which is slightly concerning because there aren’t any drunk highschoolers lingering in any rooms. was she breaking any of yunjin’s rules? what if the girl didn’t want anyone upstairs?

seemingly content with the balcony she ends up in, minjeong drops your hand and locks the clear doors.

you croak out, “why are you locking the doors…?”

minjeong arches an eyebrow, “in case you try to run.”

oh.

“what did you want to talk abo—”

“do you have any idea how scared i was? this is your first ever party in god knows how long and your number one instinct is to disappear with aeri? i can’t believe i just let you go without any supervision! and then i find yizhuo and aeri is suddenly with her? do you know how upset i was when I found out aeri just left you there?” minjeong says in rapid-fire words.

“uh—”

she paces around the balcony, fingers nearly ripping out her hair, “and then when i text you, you don’t even reply or read my messages. what was i meant to assume? i thought you were in some sort of trouble and i literally went on a manhunt to find you.”

only now you notice the sweat dripping down from her hairline.

“let me explain—”

“and where do i find you? chatting it up with park sunghoon! are you crazy? have you gone mad?” she shrieks in clear distress. you grab her by the shoulders, trying to stop her intense rambling.

“minjeong,” she breathes in sharply, “i’m sorry.”

a scoff.

“i didn’t mean to ignore your messages and i got surrounded by the crowd, i’m sorry,” you repeat. the girl finally calms down, her breathing stabilises.

minjeong sighs, “i was so scared. you’ve never liked parties and when you actually agree to coming…”

“it’s okay.” it really isn’t. some part of you is upset at minjeong, but the other part yearns for her, and doesn’t love blind people sometimes?

when did these blossoming feelings of adoration become something as strong as love?

“ugh, fuck,” minjeong furrows her brows, shutting her eyes shut and pinching her nose bridge, waves of frustration radiating from her, “and what the hell was park sunghoon talking to you about?”

you tense up. mouth suddenly dry and unable to utter a single word, you let minjeong bask in the silence.

“answer me,” she demands.

you clear your throat, “he thinks i like him.” it’s the safest answer, and it was the part she probably heard.

“do you?”

your eyes widen, “n-no, of course not.”

minjeong stares at you, scanning your face for any hint of a lie, “really? you’re telling the truth?”

“i don’t like sunghoon.” i like you, is what you want to say.

“seriously y/n, don’t lie to me. if you like him, you can tell me. i won’t be mad or anything,” (the constant grinding of her teeth tells you otherwise), “i’ll be more upset that you’re lying to me.” you don’t dare tell her you’ve lied to her before.

“i don’t like him,” you repeat, tired and exasperated. all you want now is to go home and get some rest. the constant bass-boosted music blasting in your ears is giving you a headache, combined with minjeong’s interrogation, you feel light-headed.

your best friend rolls her eyes. you resist the urge to just jump off the balcony. you can’t stand it when minjeong is mad, especially if she’s mad at you.

“i thought we were friends, y/n,” she whispers harshly.

your heart clenches, restrained from showing your true feelings like a straitjacket.

it’s maddening, to not reveal your own adoration for the girl. how sick is it that the girl you actually liked thinks you like another guy? the universe just hates your guts.

“minjeong…” your voice trails off. you reach out a hand.

she jumps away, as if burnt and your hand was acidic. pain shoots through you instantly. your fingers fall, devastated.

“i told you to rely on me,” she exhales, “if you think i’m mad that you like sunghoon, i’m not. i’m mad you don’t trust me enough to tell me.”

“i don’t like sunghoon, believe me,” you plead, tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall with every inch minjeong moves away. her whole body shudders and she strides towards the sliding doors, hand moving up to unlock the doors.

she sends you a bitter look, scathing and unlike the girl you love.

“i can’t look at you.”

this must be heartbreak. the scorching heat seething into the pores of your skin, burning your insides with fueled anger and pain. it’s as if someone has just poured gasoline into your body and lit it on fire. kim minjeong, the object of your affections, saying she can’t stand to see your face? it’s heartbreaking. tears run down your cheeks freely. the girl you’ve loved for so long, the one who claimed your heart without competition, kim minjeong. you feel your knees weaken, almost collapsing if it weren’t for the railing right next to you. your hands fly out to support yourself. you can’t breathe through the tears.

you can’t let it end like this.

“i like you,” you cry out as a last ditch attempt to preventing minjeong from exiting your life forever, “i like you, not sunghoon… s-so please don’t leave me.”

the girl stiffens up. she turns back to you slowly, surprise overtaking her body. your heart is racing, way quicker than usual, and it’s accelerating. you swallow any oxygen you can get. the pain coursing through you is too much to handle.

“p-please do-don’t leave…!” your tears cascade like a waterfall, blurring your vision. all you can see is a hazy vision of blonde hair and pale skin coming towards you. you continue through sniffles, “min..minjeong..” you feel incoming pain clashing into your head. blinking, your sight clouds.

“y/n? y/n!” minjeong yells, her arms reaching out to grab onto you. her embrace is warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the emotions she makes you feel.

“please,” you whisper weakly. minjeong’s grip on your top tightens, pulling you in closer as she murmurs words of comfort into your ears.

eventually, you manage to steady your breathing with the help of minjeong. embarrassment rushes through your blood, causing your cheeks to heat up.

it’s only the sound of your sniffles and heavy breathing that disturbs the silence of the night, the loud music below goes forgotten.

“you okay?” minjeong breaks the first wall to your heart.

you nod bashfully, rejecting the idea of lifting your head up, in fear you might never be able to embrace minjeong like this again.

“you like me?” she asks. the second wall collapses.

you nod again.

“not sunghoon?”

you shake your head.

she lets out a giggle. it’s so girlish and sweet, compared to the husky chuckle sunghoon let out previously. the third wall falls.

“i won’t leave you, i promise.”

“you can’t promise that,” you try to say, but it comes out muffled as you bury your face into her collarbones.

minjeong traces the baby hairs on the back of your neck.

“maybe. but i would like to try.” your heart is free to take now.

silence falls again. you feel a sliver of hope at her words.

“i like you,” minjeong says, “if it wasn’t clear enough.”

you groan, somewhat happily and self-conscious at your dense personality.

“why?”

“hm?”

you sigh, “why do you like me?”

minjeong contemplates for a few seconds before launching into a tirade of love confessions.

“i like how intelligent you are. i like when your arrogance comes through during your debates. i like you the most when you’re half asleep and i get the luxury of seeing you vulnerable. i like it when you help me with my homework. i like how you’re always so willing to assist me. i like how your eyes light up when you’re eating,” she caresses your rosy cheeks with her palm, using her fingers to push your lips upwards, “and i like the way you smile when you see me.”

the blooming feelings don’t diminish, they only come back stronger when minjeong strokes your face gently.

“why do you like me?” she questions.

you swallow the lump in your throat. could you even articulate how much you feel for her?

“i think of you day and night. you’re the only thing that occupies here,” you bring her hand to your chest, right above your heart, stating earnestly, “i like you because you make me feel safe.”

it’s entirely true. even if minjeong makes you want to build walls as high as skyscrapers, she will forever hold the key to destroying them. if she asked, maybe all the metal plates built around your heart would come crumbling down in a second.

“i was upset you liked sunghoon,” she laughs, “i stopped liking him in sixth grade and i have no idea why people still think i do.”

blood flushes your cheeks. you assumed the same.

“you’re always staring at him though…” you interject quietly. minjeong pats your head, “i like that one tracksuit he has.”

you’re taken back to the day when you caught minjeong staring at him. the memory of him wearing a navy adidas tracksuit appears in your head.

“he thought i liked him ‘cause i kept staring at him. but it was just me glaring at him when you were looking,” you frown. minjeong laughs heartily.

“i’m so happy,” she sighs, content. you can imagine the wide smile she has on right now. snuggling deeper into her embrace, you nod in agreement.

“me too.”

“want to let me show you how much i like you?” she asks teasingly.

and maybe you had more to talk about. and maybe you should beat up aeri for leaving you all alone. and maybe you should apologise to sunghoon for your abrupt exit. but those could all be done later. the only thing that mattered now was the feel of minjeong’s lips on yours.

kim minjeong, your best friend, and the love of your life.

[mejaemin]

200 - lee minhyung

wc: 1.2k

summary: mark cannot lose you, so in a desperate effort to let you know, he does so in the way he knows best

warnings: fighting, they make up dw, i mentioned a crude joke towards woman being made but it was never explicitly said

an: what did i eat today that made me to a triple upload ?!?! and none of those three were pre written ?!?! crazy.. but anyway here’s my first (solo) work for markle sparkle !!! lowkey i prefer the minhyung version of 200 over the regular.. but anyway pls enjoy this !!! also tysm to @viasdreams for helping me come up with an idea for what the argument should be about 😙😙 ly queen

listen 🎧! : 200 - minhyung’s version

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mark is so done.

it’s been about a week since “the incident”, and a week of going through extreme withdrawals and torture on his end from being shut out. within your circle of friends and quite a few people outside of it, your “argument” has become quite a popular topic amongst the people.

it’s honestly very petty of you, but you can’t help it. your whole situation just doesn’t sit right with you. for reference, you were hanging out with mark and his friends last week, nothing new. it started when his one friend started making sexual jokes, and of course it’s gross but boys will be boys, so you chose to distract yourself in your phone rather than torture yourself with listening to that nonsense.

the real problem arose when said jokes started turning strange, almost feeling objectifying towards women. it was quite uncomfortable to have to sit in the middle of a conversation, but thankfully you didn’t need much incentive to leave when mark started laughing along with the group. you immediately snapped your head around to look at him, giving him a look, and you could tell that was all you needed to do because he was immediately leaning towards you, but you paid him no mind and just left.

he was following behind you, and you ignored him all the way until you were halfway down the block. he grabbed your wrist, and maybe your hormones were a little off balance because you did make it out to be a little more than it should have been, but you turned around and snapped at him. in public, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, you and mark had an argument about why it was so inappropriate for him to laugh at such crude jokes. of course, in the heat of the moment it went nowhere, and ended with him driving you home (he drove you to the hangout, and despite being angry he still didn’t want you walking) in silence.

as soon as you got home, you bid him a very upset goodbye before sitting in your frustration. you managed to calm down, able to admit that you were a little harsh on him, but upon remembering the fact that he just couldn’t get why you were upset made you upset all over again. thus, you got heated all over again and decided to block mark on everything until you were able to be calm about things again (that was an excuse, and the real reason you did that was just to be petty).

the next few days he tried contacting you many times, even through other people, and you completely ignored it. at some point you did start feeling bad, but you were already too deep into it to go back now. so, you kept on, even going to the length of ignoring him when you saw each other on campus. he truly looked like a kicked puppy, well, as far as you could tell without making direct eye contact, and it sucked, but you kept walking. he had yet to admit he was in the wrong, and maybe you both were, especially you for not letting him admit it, but oh well.

after about a week and a half of avoiding your boyfriend, you’re laying on your couch, alone, scrolling through your phone when you get a notification from one of mark’s friends. the text doesn’t say much, simply a pair of eyeball emojis followed by a screenshot of mark’s profile on spotify.

he’s a music major, and you’re aware of the fact that he sometimes posts his projects on spotify or other platforms.. however, this time is a little different. the numbers on his account are way larger than they were the last time you checked, and there’s a whole other album added onto it. immediately you’re going to your own app to look at his profile, and you see that it’s for real. the numbers next to all his songs have changed from under a thousand to ten times that, and there’s an ep with five songs under the ‘latest release’ section.

immediately disregarding whatever grudge you were holding, you play it. the first song, titled 200, begins with the quiet strumming of an acoustic guitar, and you hook it up to your speaker to really feel it. he starts with his vocals, and your heart picks up. despite being more involved with rap, you always told mark you loved his vocals. you always asked him to do more songs with them, because to you they sounded godsent. it seems that after all this time, he’s finally decided to listen. there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s talking to you, the lyrics full of love and mentions of little things that have always been staples in your relationship. it’s really the cutest, and your heart hurts at the fact that you’re ignoring him while he releases a song all about your relationship while simultaneously reaching a notable point in his career.

immediately grabbing your things, you get into your car and make your way to mark’s apartment. on the way, you unblock him on everything and send him an apology message before driving to him, as close to the speed limit as you could. he tries calling you, but you ignore it in favor of the fact that his apartment is close and you’re already almost there. on the way you listened to the rest of his ep, and all the songs are including the same things, all about love with one of them even including an apology with him nearly pleading for you to come back to him.

as soon as you get to his door, you unlock it with the spare key he gave you and let yourself in. he’s in the kitchen, his back facing you, and you waste no time in running up to him and closing him in your arms.

“oh my god, markie, i’m so sorry..” you squeeze him tight in your embrace, and although he’s startled and more than a little upset, he turns around and returns the favor.

“it’s alright, babe, come sit.” he pries you off of him, leading you to the couch where he sits down with you, keeping an arm around your shoulder.

“i heard your songs and i just, i’m sorry. i feel really stupid, and i shouldn’t have ignored you, and i really hope you can forgive me.” you ramble, saying anything and everything to help explain just how terrible you felt.

his thumb rubs reassuring circles into your shoulder as he turns his head to face you completely. “it’s okay, baby, i forgive you. and i’m sorry too, i was being immature and there was nothing funny about what he said.”

you nod, feeling a little more relieved, yet still very stupid now that you saw how easy everything was discussed. “so… we’re okay?” you ask, eyes meeting his with an unsure look.

he turns his body to face you fully, using one hand to hold your face and lean in to kiss you. “of course. let’s not do that again though, okay? i was on the verge of death, bro, i swear.”

seeing how quickly he returned to normal, you giggle, nodding as you lean back into his arms. “of course, mark, it was torture for me too. now.. you seriously made five songs about me in the span of a week and a half all because of this?” you tease, and that’s how you spend the rest of the night, celebrating his success and loving each other like the way he says in his music.

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[smolkooks]

incoming call... (part ii) - kenji sato

a/n: roughly 2k more words of kenji sato fluff! sequel to 'incoming call...' link to part i

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“ouch!”

you snickered, “ken, i told you not to get too close! she doesn’t like strangers,” you leant down to scratch the little kitten’s cheeks, and because she knew you and you were undoubtedly her best friend, she purred in contentment, all the while giving kenji sato an irritated glare.

the nickname—ken—slipped off your tongue smoothly, the same way you’d been saying it for the past few months that you’d been spending around your highschool sweetheart. even though you’d been apart for so many years and hadn’t seen each other for so long, it had been easy to slip back into an old rhythm.

“fuck, i didn’t know she’d actually bite me, she looks so tiny,” he hissed, shaking his reddened finger.

“size means nothing when it comes to animals,” you retorted, and despite the way you rolled your eyes, you still handed him an ice pack from your freezer, “take this, big baby.”

he huffed but took it anyway, pressing it to his injury.

it had become a bit of a routine—after his games, he’d come over to your clinic to visit you while you handled the late-night clean ups. the rest of the vet team headed home at closing, but with no kids or family to care for, you often spent your evenings here, keeping the animals company and handling some of the extra paper work. 

“how’s emi doing, by the way?” you said as you refilled some of the water bowls. most of the animals were sleeping at this time, but you still liked to make sure they were all fed and watered. in fact, it was better to do it while they were asleep—less whinging from the little babies for treats.

“she’s doing well,” he said, and it was his turn to roll his eyes as he leant against the bench, “attitude and all, as always.”

“she’s a teenage girl,” you said with a laugh, “it’s so normal. i was one, so i can affirm.”

“mhm,” he said, eyes gleaming, “i remember.”

it was weird, toeing this line with kenji sato. so long ago, you’d been each other’s universes and after separating to go to university, the two of you had been sucked into different orbits—him going into baseball in the states, and you pursuing veterinary medicine in australia. it almost felt like fate nudging you, having the two of you run into each other—back in japan all these years later.

saving you from responding, his phone rang at that very moment. being around kenji all these weeks had gotten you used to his late night calls—how he’d have to run off to take care of the city. but this call seemed to come from one of his teammates, with the familiar way he addressed the person on the other side of the line.

he’d told you that at first he didn’t have any friends here, too busy to do anything but work. but now, he’d grown close to plenty of his teammates and of course, he had you.

“yeah well, i’m kinda busy right now actually...why?” you overheard him say as you busied yourself with some clean up and tried not to look like you were eavesdropping, “oh...oh! yeah uh—what?! what the...” his change in tone piqued your interest.

“...right, thanks for telling me, i’ll call you back later, yuta. thanks...” he hung up, and turned sharply to you, meeting your awaiting gaze, “the press caught you, uh, getting into my car.”

you frowned, confused at the problem with that, considering it wasn’t at all illegal for kenji to have friends.

“they’re blowing it up,” he said, running a hand through his hair and messing it up again, “i...i don’t mind, but i don’t want it to hurt you, that’s all.”

you waved his concerns off, “it’s whatever, to me. as long as it doesn’t harm your reputation, i don’t really have a public image to maintain. my patients don’t care who i date or don’t date.”

date? you felt flustered the moment those words left your lips. even though the two of you had been getting closer again and flirting and doing things that one would do while dating, neither of you had clarified the boundary yet.

kenji seemed equally as flustered and didn’t address what you’d said, not wanting to embarrass you, “you’re right,” he smiled crookedly, and you returned one back despite your racing heart.

***

the moment you stepped into your mum’s house, you were bombarded.

“what’s this about you dating kenji again!” she exclaimed, shutting the door behind you and ushering you into your childhood living room, “i haven’t seen that boy in decades. and since when were you—,”

“what, mum?” you cut her off sharply, even as she shoved you into a chair and poured you hot tea, sitting down opposite you eagerly, “i’m not dating him? plus, where’d you even—,”

she shoved the article in your face before you could even finish the question, her phone screen so bright that it took your eyes a second to adjust. “mum, your phone’s so bright, it can’t be good for your eyes.”

“not important, y/n,” she snapped hurriedly, “look at it.”

blinking your eyes to focus, you finally saw the image clearly. it really did look like you were dating. the window of kenji’s porsche was wound down, and you were leant over towards him, pressed so close to him in a way you didn’t remember doing, even though you knew that you’d only been reaching over to grab the gum from his glovebox. the way he was looking at you, though—you hadn’t noticed in the moment. it was really full of adoration, eyes glittering with a love you remembered so clearly from your highschool days, and his arm was reached out around you in a way you also hadn’t noticed before.

“explain,” your mum demanded, although she didn’t seem annoyed, she seemed...quite excited, the way her eyes were suspiciously bright, “i miss seeing that lovely boy around.”

embarrassed, especially as your eyes scanned over the headline—baseball star kenji sato’s new sweetheart?!—you stuttered, “uh, i ran into him a few weeks ago and we’ve been hanging out, you know, at the clinic.”

“well, then, what are you doing in his car?” she rushed, waving her phone around again, “doesn’t look like the clinic to me. and look—,” she scrolled down a bit further to another picture, this one even more incriminating.

it was you, tucked in the audience of one of kenji’s baseball games, dressed in his team colours, cheering amongst the other vip guests sitting amongst you—friends and family of the players.

“well—,”

“i’m not hearing it,” she cut you off, a grin breaking out, “you’re bringing him over! i can’t believe it—my daughter and kenji, reunited,” she sighed happily, “i was worried you would never settle down, you know.”

flustered, you didn’t even bother to object, sagging in your seat at her insistence.

***

“y/n, i’m really sorry, i didn’t think it’d be that bad,” he said hurriedly as he followed you up the stairs to your apartment, “i’m really sorry. i’m trying to get them to take it down but you know how—,”

you whirled around as you shut the door to your apartment after letting him in, “my mum wants to see you.”

“huh?”

you sighed, switching on the lights and throwing yourself onto your couch, “she saw the article and couldn’t stop going on about how i was finally settling down and how she needed to see you again.”

he ran a hand through his hair, “you...don’t mind?”

“kenji,” you sat up straight, beckoning him over, “i don’t mind. and i wouldn’t mind...”

the silence was loud, the only sound in the room the quiet humming of your lights and the traffic outside, as he sat down beside you, sinking into the cushions.

you knew you didn’t have to finish your sentence. kenji sato knew you too well. he met your eyes and pulled you close, hugging you to his chest. you breathed in his scent—clean, and a little tinted with fish. you’d found out that he often had to go fishing—diving, more like—for emi’s dinners, and that was why he was so often around your apartment block...to fish in the river like a weirdo.

“y/n...”

you hummed, waiting for him to continue as you pressed your face into his chest.

“i really meant it when i said i missed you, back when we first saw each other again,” he began, and you smiled into his skin, “i was so lonely. drained, and it was like fate—seeing you that day saved me, i swear. you were all i could think about. i couldn’t...i couldn’t imagine never seeing you again.”

“kenji,” you murmured, leaning back to look at him earnestly, “i missed you, too.”

“what i’m trying to say is,” he swallowed, looking down before looking up to meet your gaze again, “i...i wanna date you, y/n. if you’ll have me,” suddenly shy, he flushed a bit at his own words.

you smiled at how sweet it was, how shy he seemed and also how your stomach fluttered with butterflies, “ken, of course i’ll have you. you’re all i want.”

you’d barely finished your sentence when his lips met yours in a gentle, soft kiss. you couldn’t really put it into words, how it felt to kiss kenji again after all these years. it felt like coming home. it felt like taking all the colours of the sunset and smearing it across a canvas. it felt like drinking warm milk tea. you hummed into the kiss as he deepened it, pulling you closer by the nape of your neck, and you reached up to tangle your hands in his dark locks, pulling him down towards you at the same time.

you were so close to him you could feel his heartbeat—almost hear it, and you hoped he couldn’t hear how quickly yours was racing. he tasted of caramel, and you couldn’t help but sigh as his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap as you broke apart from the kiss, curling into him in a hug.

“y/n,” he murmured, keeping his arms wrapped around you, “i really, really missed you.”

you’d missed him too. his little habits, his dishevelled hair—fish smell, and all. you’d missed him more than anything.

finally, you’d come home.

[coff33andb00ks]

37 With Oscar Piastri? 🫶

37: not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out I got this twice so i'm combining them k thx 🥹

also this is really for @maxlarens bc she helped me craft something similar to this idea

Oscar's...different. Not in a bad way, just...different. He's not loud or obnoxious like the other guys in your classes at uni, he just comes in, takes his seat, and then...

Well honestly you don't know. Since, you know, you're paying attention to the professor. But you assume he's paying attention as well.

He's just quiet. Or so you thought.

"Your grandma sounds nice," you say, truly smiling as he finishes telling you about the treats his grandmother sent from back home.

He grins, blushing a little. Maybe from embarrassment, maybe from the drinks. "Yeah... She's strong too, you know."

"Is she?" you ask.

"She's got the heart of a lion."

"Oh wo--"

"And a lifetime ban from the zoo."

Your jaw drops and you let out a giggle while he grins again. "Stop, that was terrible," you insist, taking a sip of your drink. But you're still giggling a little.

His face creases and you realize that the weirdly quiet guy from maths isn't weird.

So naturally he needs you to become his friend. Right? Right. Probably not but you take up the task anyway, happily dragging him along to parties and clubs on weekends. He goes along with it, longsuffering and looking miserable, but always ends up cracking jokes that have even your most judgmental friends liking him.

Oscar's like that, you realize, watching him cringe over the house music playing. He pretends not to care but he does. He cares more than you, sometimes. Especially about people he loves, like that American guy that follows him around like a lost puppy, and the super posh guy that you and your friend joke is actually a serial killer

His friends and your friends become a group. Neither from either side have anything in common other than attending the same university. None seem to really like the others really but put up with them because Oscar makes it worth it.

You've all been studying for exams, gathering in the posh guy's off campus flat because it's the biggest and has the best furniture and the best food, and you're in the kitchen fixing coffee when Oscar finds you. There's chatter in the dining room, your friends arguing over a minute detail in some show you haven't watched yet.

"Are they getting rowdy?" you ask, taking down another mug - they all match, George is third year and all his dishes match - and pour him some coffee.

"No more than usual." Oscar murmurs a thank you, leaning against the counter as the arguing turns into laughter.

"You hate that I've dragged you into this hysteria don't you?" you murmur.

"What?"

You smile against the rim of your mug. You like the way he says what, all exaggerated and so very Australian. What does that even mean? You have no idea. You just know you like it. "They're a bit..."

"Loud?" Oscar asks, his face dead serious as absolute silence comes from the dining room.

"You," you mutter, lightly shoving at his shoulder before leaning against him, dropping your hand.

"They're alright," he promises. "They keep George and Logan bonkers."

You laugh, because your friends do love tormenting his friends. And vice versa. "Come on, let's try to get them to focus on work."

Back in the dining room you're working your way through the problem that you've been struggling with when you notice Logan keeps giving you weird looks after he comes back from the toilet. You ignore him because, well, it's Logan, and he tends to always give people weird looks.

There's rustling and whispering around you and then George looks up from his laptop and you freeze, suddenly feeling everyone's eyes on you and Oscar.

"What's all this then?" George asks.

"You sound just like my grandad," your friend groans before turning to you. "When did this story arc happen?"

"Yeah, I thought you two were still stuck on ew that's my friend," Logan chimed in.

"What?" This from Oscar.

George points a pen at you both. "That."

And then you feel it. Your hand in Oscar's - his thumb tapping yours, the calluses from his love of the gym, warm and comforting and—

"Well?" your friend demands.

You know you should drop his hand. That's my friend, my quiet black cat that I adopted and drag around to keep the weirdos away only I'm the weirdo and he can't keep me away. You look down at your clasped hands.

There's a freckle next to his thumbnail and all you can think is how fucking endearing that is.

"Just because no guy wants to hold your hand doesn't mean I should suffer," you find yourself saying.

Next to you, Oscar throws his head back and laughs.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 7- For The First Time

Summary: Eight days ago, you kissed Frankie Morales for the first time. Eight days later, you want to do more than just kiss him.

Word count: 8.6K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname, no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) protected p in v sex, loss of virginity/first sexual experience for Frankie and Reader (some brief mentions of momentary discomfort bc of it) oral (f receiving- building the lore for Pussy Eating King Francisco Morales brick by brick), vaginal fingering, Frankie's got a big dick (it's also part of the lore, don't @ me) sweet and awkward teenage love, Frankie being everything and more, lots and lots and lots of consent, a four letter word that starts with an L, please don't yell at me, they're both 18 at this point in the story!!!

A/N: Soooooo all of a sudden I blinked a this was 8K plus words WHOOPS 🤠 I ain't gonna lie with y'all, this may be one of my favorite things I've ever written and have cried the whole way through it 😭 My plan was to have Frankie picking up MacKenzie from work in this chapter too, but obviously things got away from me very quickly, so that will be next chapter's problem!! Your kind words about this story mean so much to me, I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I've enjoyed writing it!!! 🥺💕

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Summer of 2007, Age 18 

123 days. 

That night Frankie told you he had made up his mind to join the Army after he finished with high school, you counted out every square on your calendar from April 15th to August 16th. You had 123 days left together before you left for college and Frankie left for boot camp. 

But April 15th was 2 months ago. 67 days ago, to be exact. Each day you crossed off your calendar filled you with a little more dread than the last. You tried not to think about the dwindling number, or the impending doom of August hanging behind July and June on the wall above your desk, but it was hard to not let the thought constantly nag in the back of your mind that the carefree summer days of spending practically every waking minute with Frankie were coming to an end. 

The only thing that seemed to put you at ease was just that- after the hurt and sadness of Frankie’s departure had subsided enough, you had promised each other that the last bit of time you had together, you’d do everything in your power to make the most of it. 

If there was anything you knew the other was good for, it was keeping a promise. 

There was no denying that the past 67 days spent with Frankie had been nothing short of magical. It seemed like for once in your life, everything was falling into place exactly how you wanted it to. 

Your soccer team had won the state championship, Frankie being the first to rush onto the field to congratulate you on your victory after cheering for you at the top of his lungs the whole game. The stress of school seemed to become irrelevant, your teachers easing up as you came to the close of your Senior year, you and Frankie’s after school hangouts now focused less on homework and more on goofing around. Graduation had come and gone, you and Frankie both walking across the stage of your high school gym, diplomas in hand, teasing the other relentlessly about how awful the other looked in the stupid, tasseled caps they had forced you to wear. 

Then, there was prom.

It had been no question that you and Frankie were going to prom together- it was an unspoken, standing agreement that the both of you had since the start of your senior year. For as much as homecomings or school dances had never been your (or Frankie’s) preferred way to spend a Saturday night, there was an undeniable excitement you had about it you couldn’t really quite describe. You kept chalking it up to the fact it was the biggest night of your senior year, or that all your best friends were gathering together to have an incredible party filled with dancing and fun. 

But neither of those things could account for the butterflies in your stomach when Frankie showed up at your front door, tuxedo on and flowers in hand, watching his jaw drop and heart stop when he laid eyes on you. 

“You look beautiful, MacKenzie.” 

From that moment on, those 4 words hadn’t stopped ringing in your ears. 

They rang in your ears as he held your hand the entire night, refusing to unlock his fingers from yours. 

They rang in your ears as you felt him grab your waist while you danced. 

They rang in your ears as he lovinging teased you about your drunken hiccups off sips of stolen beer cans in Santi’s basement where the party had traveled to long after prom had finished. 

They rang in your ears in the middle of your moonlit street as Frankie walked you home, making it no less than ten steps past Santi’s porch before he froze, staring at you like a trembling deer in headlights.

“What’s wrong, weirdo?” 

“There’s something I wanna do. I’m terrified you’ll hate me forever if I do it, but I’ve wanted to for so long and I don’t think I can wait anymore.” 

“Frankie, what are you-” 

“Can I kiss you, MacKenzie? Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.” 

“F-Frankie, I-” 

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget that I-” 

“I was scared you would never ask.” 

It wasn’t until then you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss Frankie Morales. 

Now, you’re absolutely sure that you never want to stop kissing him. 

There’s something about the warmed, welcomed June air that makes you want to throw every caution you’ve ever had to the wind, finally understanding what all of those books and movies had meant about falling victim to a summer fling.

Ever since that night at prom, Frankie Morales was the only thing in the world that mattered. It had only been eight days since his lips had met yours under the midnight moon, but every day since, neither of you had passed up a chance to sneak away for stolen kisses and bodies tangled in messy dances of limbs, finding any excuse to spend a moment alone together. 

Maybe your pink cheeks and goofy grins were enough to let the world know how hard you had fallen for your best friend- even if they weren’t, you wouldn’t care. Right now, consequences don't exist. 

Right now, the only thing that does is you, Frankie, and a four letter word that lingers in the back of your mind. 

They especially don’t exist when you’re wide awake at one in the morning for the third night in a row, unable to sleep as butterflies rumble in your stomach and fly up to your chest after another day spent with the boy four doors down. 

You toss and turn under your sheets, unable to stand staring hopelessly at your ceiling another minute. You reach across your bed, plucking your phone off your nightstand, finding Frankie’s name in your messages. 

You: 

Hey, are you still up? I can’t sleep 

It’s barely ten seconds before his contact is lighting up your screen, making your heartbeat just a little faster.

Frankie :) <3

Im up 2. I cant sleep either 

Cant stop thinking about u 

You: 

Me either, even though we literally spent all day together haha 

You smile at your screen as you wait for Frankie’s response, fingers anxiously tapping on your keyboard until your phone lights up again. 

Frankie :) <3

Do u wanna come over? 

I wanna see u 

Your face scrunches in confusion, sitting up in your bed to peer out your window, like Frankie would be able to see your puzzled expression from down the street as you type back. 

You: 

I mean, yeah, but it’s 1 AM Frankie??? What about your mom? 

Frankie :) <3 

Shes working overnight at the hospital 

She wont be back until like 9 tomorrow 

Its just me 

You’re unsure of how to describe the feeling that’s beginning to brew in your stomach as you read his last three texts. A strange mix of excitement and anticipation washes through you at the idea of letting yourself indulge in the teenage rebellion of sneaking out of your house in the middle of the night. An even stranger mix of nerves and something else you can’t quite explain floods your veins at the idea of sneaking out of your house to find Frankie, alone in his bedroom. 

The feeling you quite can’t explain churns faster in your gut and travels down your lower half when you realize if you’re alone with Frankie in his bedroom, you want to do more than just kiss him. 

You: 

Are you sure?? 

Frankie :) <3

Promise 

I really wanna see u Kenz 

At this point, the strange feeling that’s seeped through every inch of your body must have made it to your brain, because you’re convinced it’s the reason you don’t know how to breathe anymore. 

You: 

Okay 

I’ll be over in 10 :) 

Frankie :) <3 

Ok :) 

Come in thru the back door  

Txt me when ur there and ill let u in 

You’ve never been up and out of your bed so quickly, fumbling with your comforter and pillows just enough to resemble something close to a body under your sheets if god forbid either one of your parents wakes up and decides to check on you for the first time since you were a toddler. 

Your breath trembles, inhaling and exhaling in long and deep rises of your chest, carefully tiptoeing across your bedroom floor. You’d give anything to be in something cuter than your pajamas, but opening your closet seems like too risky of a move in your plot to escape. 

You grab Frankie’s sweatshirt hanging over your desk chair, quietly shuffling it over your head before attempting to use the moonlight spilling in through your window as enough illumination to comb your fingers through your messy hair and wrangle it into a quick braid. It’s hard to tell from the half lit reflection staring back at you in the mirror, but you pray the once over you give yourself is enough to keep you from looking like a complete mess when you show up at Frankie’s door. 

The adrenaline of it all seems to kick your nerves to the curb as you stuff your phone in Frankie’s sweatshirt pocket before your fingers gently wrap around the curve of your doorknob. As soon as you open the door, you’re well aware of the ramifications that could await you on the other side. 

You’re also well aware that consequences are temporary, and no amount of fear of future punishment is keeping you from making it to Frankie’s bedroom tonight. 

It’s a James Bond worthy performance, the way you sneak down your staircase, avoiding every crack and creak with expertise, stealthily sliding past your parents bedroom and across the family room until you’ve crept through your kitchen to find your back patio.

You flinch with every squeal of the sliding glass door as you nudge it open, just enough to squeeze your body through. You grimace your face in fear as you pause, back to the bricks of your house, waiting for someone to catch you in the act. 

A few moments pass and the silence of your home stays stagnant, giving you the all clear to bolt across your backyard, dashing through your neighbors lawns until you find yourself at Frankie’s, hands shaking as your fingers punch at your keyboard. 

You: 

I’m here! Let me in!  

As your thumb presses send, your adrenaline has waived just enough to let the anxious tension take hold of your body, palms sweating and heart racing so fast it just may beat out of your chest. Your teeth gnaw at your fingernails, waiting for his response to text you that he’ll be right there, or he’s about to let you in, but this is Frankie- It should be no surprise when he opens the back door immediately. There’s not a chance in hell he hasn’t been waiting for you down here since the moment you texted him you were coming. 

“Hi.” You whisper, biting down your lip to contain the smile that’s spread across your face as he’s opened the door. 

“Hi.” He whispers back, tongue darting between his lips as his eyes wander up and down your frame before locking with yours. 

His palm grazes your cheek, cradling your jaw as he steps into you, chest to chest while your lips lock in a gentle, electric kiss, the kind that makes you want the taste of him to linger on your tongue forever. 

“You wanna go up to my room?” He asks, the hot breath of his words dancing across your skin as his mouth still hovers over yours. 

Before, you would have quipped him with some sort of witty, sarcastic response, teasing him that you’d rather stay out in the pitch black and get eaten by mosquitos until he dragged you inside, eyes rolling at your sass. Now, the best you can manage are shaky breaths while you nod your head in agreement, praying your brain will let you form some sort of coherent thought before you speak. 

Frankie grabs your hand as he pulls you into his house, taking the familiar path through his kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom, the pounding in both your chests filling the silence for the words you seem to lack. 

He doesn’t even bother closing the door behind him as you make it to his room, your bodies tangling and intertwining in a frantic dance, stumbling across the floor until the backs of Frankie’s knees collide with the bed, the two of you toppling over in soft giggles onto the mattress. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” Frankie sighs, one arm wrapped around your hip and the other resting on your face as he leans back in for another kiss, your smiles pressed against each other. 

“It’s only been like, three hours since I saw you last, dummy,” You quietly snicker, letting your hands wander up his chest, “You really missed me that much?” 

“Yeah, really.” He replies in between kisses, fingers digging just a little bit deeper into your side, “I can’t stop thinking about you, Kenzie. You’re all I think about. You’re all I ever wanna think about.” 

You try to swallow the lump that’s lingering in your throat, but with each second that passes, it seems to grow, trapping the words your brain is fighting to get out. The simple bliss you’ve found in pressing your mouth to Frankie’s has become overshadowed by the looming tension spreading through you as you imagine the soft plush of his lips across your skin, or the way you want his hands to creep down the waistband of your shorts and ease the ache that’s been building between your legs. 

Your body freezes at the realization that you want to tell him that you can’t stop thinking about him either, that you can’t stop thinking about the fact you want more than just his lips pressed against yours, how you want him to be the first one you feel inside you, that he’s the only one you ever want. 

That there’s nothing more than you want to be his. 

It doesn’t take long for Frankie to realize he’s making out with a half open mouth, pulling away with concern as he studies the pained expression across your face. 

“Kenz, a-are, are you okay? D-did I do something wrong?” Frankie stammers, gulping as he shifts himself to follow your lead and sit up on the bed. 

“N-no, no, it’s just that- fuck- I just- fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” You stutter, face growing hotter and hotter as you furrow your brow, eyes peeled to Frankie’s blue and green plaid sheets as you try to find the words you want so desperately for him to hear.

Frankie reaches out his hand, gently resting it on the bare skin of your thigh, just below the hem of your pajama shorts. You glance down at the way his fingers carefully rub back and forth, trying to calm your nerves enough to look at him. 

“It’s okay, Kenzie. Whatever it is, I’m- I’m here to listen.” He responds, trying his best to be the anchor in your storm, despite his own nearly shot nerves. 

“I- I- I really like you, Frankie.” 

“I really like you too, Kenz.” He smiles softly, just enough teasing inflection in his tone to get you to giggle, just a little. 

“I just- I- um, do you- Frankie, do you- do you ever think about doing more than just kissing me?” 

A stark silence fills the room, quiet enough that each breath through your nose and thump in your chest amplifies and echoes in the space between you. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek watching Frankie’s face go blank, eyes widening with every second he lets your question process. His Adam’s Apple bobs in sync with the trembling exhale he takes before he looks back at you, praying that your word vomit hasn’t led to a detrimental mistake. 

“Do um, holy shit- you mean like, l-like what? Like, like, h-having sex? W-w-with you?” 

He’s panting like he’s just finished a marathon, his eyes darting wildly between you and his sheets, terrified to answer your question with anything else but his own question to make sure he’s really just heard what you said. 

The tops of your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you nod your head just enough, the subtle shake just enough to let him confirm his suspicions that you’re asking as a way of letting him  know how often it’s crossed your mind. 

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I think about it.” He stammers, feeling his fingers tremble against your skin, hand still resting on your thigh, “D-do- do you? Um, think about it?” 

“Yeah.” You whisper, voice shaking as you reach down to lay your hand over his, letting your fingers slide between the gaps between his knuckles until they intertwine, gripping each other tightly, there was no chance the other could float away. 

The silence shifts to a different type of tension, a thickness in the air so palpable, it makes it just as hard to move as it does to breathe. The two of you stare at the interlocked hand resting on your thigh, stuck in a game of chicken of who dares to make the first move into the uncharted territory you’ve entered. 

“I- I’ve never-” 

“Me either.” Frankie interjects, cutting off the end of your statement.

It’s almost humorous to admit it out loud, like the both of you didn’t already share every detail of your lives with one another, and had somehow managed to let this fact fall between the cracks.

The two of you let out quiet laughs to yourselves, finding comfort in the comradery to work up enough courage to let your gazes meet again, wondering if Frankie can see the same yearning in your eyes as you see reflected in the soft brown his. 

“MacKenzie, I- I-” he mutters, scrunching his face with his swallow, trying to compose himself, “I only wanna do what you wanna do. I don’t- um, I don’t want you to think that if- if you don’t want to, o-or whatever, that I would be mad. I promise I would never, ever be mad at you because of that. Y-you know that, right?” 

“I know.” 

There’s not a part of you that doubts it. Not for a second. You know that there’s no one else on the face of this earth you trust more than him. 

There could be no one else but him. 

“You know I would never be mad at you either, right?” You ask, relieved as you watch Frankie gently nod his head. 

You’re not sure if it’s instinct or the weight of the tension that makes you lean into him, foreheads pressing together so that the messy curls of his sleepy hair are tickling your skin. You can hear how hard his heart is beating, waiting on your every breath as he leans back into you. 

“I want to. I want you, Frankie.” 

“F-fuck- Are you sure?” He asks, his free hand creeping across the sheets, carefully sliding up your thigh and under his sweatshirt you’re wearing, letting his fingers toy at the softness of your stomach and the waistband of your shorts. 

“I’m sure.” You whisper back, your own hand traveling up his leg and towards the tented fabric of his pajama bottoms. 

“I-if it’s too much, t-tell me to stop, okay? I promise I’ll take care of you, MacKenzie.” 

“I know you will. I trust you, Frankie.” 

“O-okay.” 

“Okay.” 

It’s then your mouths crash together in a messy dance of tounges and teeth, an instant electricity igniting in your core with anticipation and want. It’s frantic yet sensual, the way there’s nothing more you want than him, but can’t bear to miss a moment to take it all in, savoring every second you melt into him.

As your hands wander across each other’s bodies, Frankie shifts you to lay on your back so he can cage his frame over yours, the ends of his fingers barely daring to roam any farther than just below your hips or too far above your stomach. 

“C-can I take off your shirt?” He asks, already breathless at just the sight of you underneath him. 

“Technically your shirt, Morales.” You smirk, making his cheeks turn even more pink at the way you giggle when you say his name. 

“It’s yours now, looks way better on you than it does on me. Drives me fucking crazy seeing you in my clothes, Kenz.” He grins, carefully tugging your sweatshirt and the shirt underneath it above your head as you lift up your arms, helping him wriggle it free. 

As you pop out from under the fabric, the first thing you notice is the way Frankie’s jaw is hanging open, eyes wide as can be as they stay glued to your bare chest. 

“Holy shit.”  Frankie whispers to himself, tongue darting between his lips, staring at the way your nipples have hardened from being exposed and aroused. “Um, w-wow.” 

Seeing you topless sparks something in him to do the same, reaching over his shoulder to tug his t-shirt off his back and over his head, leaving nowhere for the heave of each heavy rise and fall of your chests to hide. 

Slowly, Frankie lets his hands slide up your stomach until he’s palming your breasts, grouping each one in his hands, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against your sensitive buds. 

He leans down to kiss you, starting at your lips before trailing down your neck and collarbone, until he reaches your chest, carefully kissing each handful he has in his grasp. 

You’ve never felt your core ache the way it does now, throbbing with want and need for more, just from the way Frankie’s groping you. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling- you’ve touched yourself before with this exact scenario playing in your mind, but never has it made you feel like this. 

“Y-you can take off my shorts, i-if you want.” 

“O-kay.” 

The gentleness of Frankie’s gaze makes your heart skip a beat, the chocolate brown of his eyes locked on yours as he scoots himself down the bed until he finds himself settled between your legs, now parted open for him. 

It’s then you’re overtly aware that Frankie is about to see you completely naked, a new wave of anxiety crashing through you as heat rises in your cheeks and makes you fidget the fabric of his sheets between your fingers. 

“I- I- I’m not wearing cute underwear. S-sorry.” You stammer, wincing as Frankie’s thumbs begin to dip below your waistband. 

“Seriously, Kenz?” He chuckles, pausing in his tracks to shake his head in disbelief, “Do you really think I care what underwear you have on right now?” 

“Well, n-no, but-” 

“You really think I’m about to turn down having sex with you because you’re not in the right underwear? That you won’t even have on in like, three seconds?” Frankie snickers, trying to help ease your clearly visible nerves. 

“Shut up.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you playfully swat at him, forgetting about the fact you were topless and immediately clamming up again as you felt your breasts sway against your chest. “S-sorry, I- I’m just kinda nervous.” 

“Why are you nervous?” Frankie questions gently, wrapping his hand around your calf, thumb softly circling your skin. 

“Well you’re about to see me naked for the first time, Frankie. I think that’s a pretty fair reason to be nervous.” You force the stifled laugh stuck in your throat, attempting to uphold any confidence you have left in your facade. 

“You’re about to see me naked too, Kenz. Would it make you feel better if you saw me pantless first?” 

He says it like he’s teasing, but you know there’s a part of him that’s serious- that he’d do anything to make you feel better, even something as simple as being the first to forgo any clothes on his bottom half. 

“No, I know, Frankie, it’s just-” 

“Do you know how beautiful I think you are?” 

It catches you off guard, how quick he is to stifle your protest, the warmth of his words flushing your cheeks, now shifting to fit the delicate grin that’s growing between them. 

“You’re so beautiful, MacKenzie. Everything about you, I swear.” 

He must feel the butterflies churning in your stomach, his hands sliding down your thighs to grab your sides, leaning over to press soft kisses just above your waistband. He stares up at you once more, giving each other subtle nods of reassurance as his fingers play with the elastic, carefully helping you to lift your hips just enough to shuffle your bottoms down your legs until they’re a crumpled pile on the floor. 

It eases the tension that’s built throughout your body as you watch in real time how Frankie’s brain short circuits, mesmerized by the view that’s revealed itself between your legs. You timidly squirm your lower half against the sheets, just enough to feel the sticky warmth of your arousal that’s been pooling since the minute you stepped foot in Frankie’s bedroom. 

“H-holy- holy fuck. O-oh my god.” Frankie murmurs to himself, eyes locked on the puffy, wet mess of your pussy, “MacKenzie, I- wow. C-can, um, can I touch you?” 

“Mmhmm. Y-you can touch me, Frankie. F-fuck, I want you to. Please.” You whisper, letting your legs part for him more, clit pulsing with anticipation to feel Frankie’s fingers. 

“I-if it doesn’t feel good o-or, you know, you want me to stop, just tell me, okay?” 

“Okay, Frankie.” 

You didn’t even know it was possible to feel this wound up, every throb of your core pulsing through your body with so much intensity you’re convinced you may explode if Frankie doesn’t touch you this second. 

The pads his fingers gently slide over your swollen lips, collecting the slick that clings to them before he brings them to your clit, his precise and delicate touch still making you gasp the moment he starts to circle around your sensitive nub. He swirls his fingers with the lightest touch like you’re made of glass, scared he’ll break you if he dares to push too hard. 

“You can, fuck- you can press more if you want.” 

“Okay. I just- I didn’t wanna hurt you, or anything.” 

The corner of your lips curl with a soft smile, the stiffness in your muscles relaxing with how warm and safe he makes you feel. 

“I-in the same place, though? Same circles, just like, more pressure?” He asks, quietly calculating his next move as you shake your head in response. 

Frankie begins to circle again, slowly increasing the weight of his fingers against your clit, brushing against it in just the right way to make you whimper in delight. 

“Oh my god-” You sigh, breath hitching in the back of your throat. 

“Good oh my god, or bad oh my god?” Frankie questions, terrified he’s done something to upset you. 

“No- no, good oh my god. K-keep doing that.” You stammer, pulse quickening as a familiar tingle of pleasure begins to build in your stomach. 

Your reassurance gives Frankie the boost of confidence he needs, drawing tight circles around your nub with the pads of his fingers for a few moments, until his thumb takes over, leaving his middle two fingers free, ghosting over your entrance. 

There’s a louder moan as Frankie barely slips his middle finger inside of you, lightly prodding in and out of your hole, welcoming the new fullness in the warmth and wet of your walls. 

He pumps a few more times, letting his finger sink deeper with each stroke until he’s knuckle deep, reaching further than any spot you’ve been able to feel yourself. It’s when a second digit joins his first that you feel nearly breathless, the stretch and sting making you wince for a moment as you adjust, realising how much thicker and stronger his fingers are than your own when you touch yourself. 

Frankie immediately notices your tense expression, quickly pulling back, raising his hands like he’s been caught in the act, guilt ridden look painted across his face. 

“Fuck, Kenzie, are you okay? Did I hurt you? Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s okay, Frankie! It feels good, I promise, your fingers are just a lot bigger than mine.” 

He tilts his head in confusion for a second until the lightbulb clicks with him that he’s not the only one in the room who's ever been horny and taken care of themself to help solve their problem. 

“Wh-what do you think about? Wh-when, when you touch yourself?” He asks with a quiet caution. 

“I- I think about you, Frankie.”

You answer without hesitation. Not to appease him, not to convince yourself, but because it’s the truth. You’ve thought about him more times than you can count. 

Your answer ignites another spark of self-assurance in him, carefully letting his thumb swirl against your clit as his middle finger gently slides back into your entrance, working up to the same tempo he was at a few moments ago. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” He confesses, a willing admittance now that you’re laying your cards out on the table for him. 

“Well, there was one time, a long time ago, I thought about Orlando Bloom after I watched Pirates of the Caribbean.” 

You’re not sure what spurs on your unnecessary addition to your comment, but it makes you and Frankie both snort, needing a moment to compose yourself from your fit of giggles. 

“Are you trying to tell me you’re really into pirates?” Frankie laughs, biting down on his lip. 

“No, you dork! That’s not- Jesus, you know what, forget I ever said anything, okay?” You sigh, rolling your eyes at Frankie, trying to will away the reds and pinks that plague your cheeks. 

“Your secret’s safe with me, Kenz, don’t worry.” He teases, his smile slowly shifting to a stoic sort of concentration as he stares down at his fingers pressed against your pussy. “I- I wanna try something.” 

“What?” 

“Can I um, can I go down on you?” 

“Wait, really?” 

Despite your own inexperience, you weren’t naive enough to ignore the rumblings from friends of friends, or stories of girls on your soccer team, constantly complaining about how all their boyfriends wanted them to suck their dicks with nothing in return. They’d claim it was gross, or weird, or that it would taste disgusting, so you’d be hard pressed to not believe that every boy under the sun mostly likely found themselves in the same school of thought. 

“Do you not want me to?” Frankie questions, trying to hide the small pang of disappointment you’re sure he feels in his chest at your puzzled reaction. 

“N-no, it’s just that- I didn’t think that- I thought guys thought that was gross.” 

“What? Who said that?” Frankie scoffs. 

“I don’t know, like, Sarah and Morgan from the soccer team always complained about how their boyfriends never wanted to because they said it was gross or whatever.” 

“Well Sarah and Morgan’s boyfriends have a single brain cell left between them after all the hits they’ve taken during football this season.” 

The two of you laugh again, finding relief in the way your friendship prevails through the discomfort. 

“You really don’t think it’s gross?” 

“No. I- I think it’s kinda hot.” 

It’s now Frankie’s cheeks that are flushed with crimson, trying his best to hide his embarrassment. You can tell he has more he wants to say from the way his eyes dart between yours and the bed, forcing you to tilt your head with that little nod he knows means that you’ll keep pestering him until he breaks. Lucky for you, it won’t take much. 

“Santi stole this DVD from his cousin's house, and honestly most of it was so stupid because obviously it's all fake. Like, no one’s that excited to get fucked at a doctor’s office. But anyways, there was this one part at the beginning where uh- where the guy goes down on the girl and I- um, I don’t know. I- I wanted to try it, I guess.” 

“Really didn’t think I was gonna have to worry about not picturing Santi in my head tonight.” 

You and Frankie giggle as you pretend to gag at the thought of Santi becoming a part of you losing your virginity, praying there never comes a day he finds out he’s in part to thank for Frankie’s peaked curiosity. 

“I- I want you to. If you want to.” 

“I want to. Fuck, I wanna taste you so bad.” 

The pace of your pulse begins to quicken again, watching the way Frankie’s face lights up as he races to position himself between your legs, laying flat against the mattress with his face hovering above your heat, his hot, trembling breath tickling your folds. 

You swear he licks his lips before his mouth meets you, but the slow, long drag of his tongue across your clit already has your head thrown back against his pillow, the warmth and wetness lighting you up from the inside out with jolts of electric pleasure. 

He repeats it a few more times, languidly lapping in smooth and steady strokes, each with just a little more pressure than the last. It’s instinctual, how you buck your hips towards his face, like your body knows it wants more before your brain can process it, signaling to Frankie you’ve given him the okay to keep going, to give you more. 

Little gasps escape your parted lips as his tongue moves faster, circling your clit the same way he had with his thumb, making your body melt into the mattress. It’s almost unearthly, how good it feels, little fires igniting in your stomach with every flick of his tongue. 

You don’t mean to startle him with how loudly you whimper as he intensifies the pressure, mouth still latched around your clit while his brown eyes peek up at you, breathlessly nodding to him that he shouldn’t dare to stop now. 

He takes it as a sign to test the waters even further, letting his middle finger be sucked into the warmth of your velvety walls before ever so carefully sliding in another. The stretch is still there but the sting has faded, his fingers a welcomed addition to ease the way you realize you’ve been clenching around nothing, subconsciously desperate to fill the empty ache in your core. 

Inch by inch, he sinks them deeper until you feel him bump against a soft spot inside you that makes you scream in a way you’ve never felt before, fireworks exploding everywhere in your body as his tongue and fingers work in tandem. 

A familiar tingle rapidly begins to build at the base of your spine, except the same type of tingle you’ve experienced alone has never multiplied and compounded in the same way this one does. 

Desperate for something to grab on to, one hand fists at Frankie’s sheets, the other, shooting down to the messy curls of his hair, burying your fingers until they disappear under his unkempt locks. 

You’re not sure if you’re so pleasure drunk you can’t think straight, but you swear you can feel that stupid, smug smirk pressed against your pussy as you hold onto him for dear life. 

He keeps the same pace with his tongue, fingers prodding in just the right spot to make you feel like you’re losing control, limbs numb and shaking like jello as you feel the tingle creep down your legs and up through your chest. 

“F-Frankie, I- oh fuck- fuck, oh my god, fuck, I- I- oh my go-ahhhhhhhhhh-”  

It’s all consuming, the way the pleasure washes over you, like waves crashing into the shoreline- relentless and never ending. There’s a moment you’re convinced your body’s left this planet, floating off in space in a cloud of endless ecstasy. 

You’re not sure how long you’re lost in the electricity of it all- Minutes? Hours? Years? You’d believe any and all of the above. Your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath as you come to, greeted with the image of Frankie still settled between your legs, wild haired and goofy grinned. 

“Frankie…. Holy fuck.” 

A beaming, boyish smile lights up across his face at the way you’re panting, wiping the shiny slick stained around his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Yeah? D-did it feel good? Did you um- did you-” 

“Yeah. Holy shit. Remind me to thank Santi’s cousin if I ever meet him.” 

“Jesus Christ…” Frankie sighs, rolling his eyes at your giggles, heart melting at the way he can’t hide his rosy cheeks and curled lips every time he looks at you, “It felt good though? Like, Actually?” 

“Yeah, it felt really good, Frankie.” You coo, watching Frankie prop himself up to sit back on his haunches, letting your gaze wander down his bare chest until you reach the clearly tented fabric of his pajama pants, lingering just long enough for him to notice where you’re staring. 

Silent tension fills the room again, the both of you realizing that you’ve only conquered one part of the journey you’ve embarked on together, and that the second half of your travels pose many more risks than the first. Frankie is the only one you want by your side as you brave your adventure together. 

With a little push, your back parts with his mattress, sitting up to close the gap between you. You’re close enough now that your hands can roam up his thighs, softly palming at the stiff bulge straining under his pants. 

“Oh f-fuck-” Frankie stutters, jaw going slack with ever pass your hand makes over his erection. 

“Can I take off your pants, Frankie?” You whisper, burying your head in the crook of his neck, craning your head just enough so that the hot words of your breath dance in his ear. 

You can barely finish your sentence before Frankie’s scrambling off the edge of the bed, standing up straight to give you the easiest access to shuffle his pajamas down while you kneel on the mattress. 

You pray Frankie can’t feel the way your fingers shake as they sink under his waistband and brush against his stomach, pulling his bottoms down just slow enough to memorize the subtle V that sinks between his hips, or the soft trail of barely there brown hair under his belly button that thickens with every tug. 

With one final breath, you slide them down enough to finally free what’s been hiding underneath, his length fully hard, bobbing as it springs free. This must have been what it felt like for Frankie, understanding the way his eyes went wide and brain went blank after he saw you for the first time.

It’s not like it’s a surprise to you, the concept of what he’s had tucked away in his pants.

What does, is how the sight of it nearly knocks the wind out of you. 

“F-Frankie… Holy shit.” 

“What? I-is something wrong?” He winces, immediately bracing himself for the worst. 

“No, it’s just- just like, Holy shit, Frankie.” You reiterate, making it very clear you’re more than impressed as you gesture at what’s hanging in front of you. 

“O-oh, t-thanks.” He stutters, a sweet shyness overtaking him as a result of your admiration. 

You scoot yourself closer, a boldness overcoming you as you delicately wrap your hand around his length, slowly sliding it up and down his shaft. You pray that whatever you’re doing feels okay, but from the way Frankie’s whimpers and moans escape from his parted lips, you take it as a sign you’re safe to take another step further.

“Since you went down on me, do you want me to go down on-” 

“N-no!” He pauses, drowning his face in his palm for the way he’s panicking, making you drop him from your grasp, “No, I- uh- shit- sorry, sorry, no it’s just- No, not because I don’t want you to- b-believe me, I really want you to. Like, really want you to.” 

“O-okay, so?” 

He must feel awful for the puzzled and pained expression on your face, reaching with both hands to cradle your jaw, making sure your gaze is fixated on him. 

“I’m sorry, I promise nothing’s wrong, I just- fuck- I don’t wanna cum yet and I know if you go down on me, I will in like two seconds, and I wanna cum when we’re having sex. I-if you still wanna, ya know, have sex. Jesus, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I freaked out like that. I think I’m- I’m nervous, too. ” 

The top of your teeth graze your lower lip, batting your lashes in heavy, long blinks, your lips curling in a sympathetic smile that you’re not alone in your uneasiness. Finding comfort in the uncomfortability, together. Knowing how easy it would be for him to play it all off like no big deal, or pretend to mask the confidence he lacks, and yet, he doesn’t, makes you want him even more. 

“Do you still want to? I- I’m nervous too, but I want to. It makes me feel less nervous that it’s with you.” 

The tender kiss he plants on your lips as your bodies move in sync down the bed is the only answer you need, shuffling backwards towards the pillows while Frankie hovers his body over you, mouths only parting to let you settle into the mattress. 

Each kiss becomes more frantic and desperate than the last, mouths melting together as your tongues wrestle. The way he kisses you is all consuming, enough to make you feel like the only people in the world that exist in this moment are you and him. 

“You sure you want to?” He gasps, fighting for his words to escape his parted lips. 

“I’m sure.” You whisper back, barely soft enough for him to hear. 

The two of you nod, Frankie shifting his weight to reach across you, shuffling through the drawer of his nightstand until he fishes out the box of condoms he has hidden away. He sits back on his knees, carefully ripping a square from the line of packages, tossing the rest over the side of the bed. He’s even more delicate as he tears the edge of the foil he’s holding in his hands, removing the rubber and methodically rolling it down over his shaft. 

“It’s on right... Right?” 

“Yeah. I practiced putting them on earlier this week so I didn’t look like a complete idiot when I tried to do it the first time. Although I think telling you that probably makes me look like an even bigger idiot.” 

“No it doesn’t,” You softly reassure him, “I’d rather have you do that than put it on wrong. I don’t want any of your babies yet, Morales.” 

Yet. 

You’re not sure what makes your brain decide to add those three letters into your sentence. You’re also not sure why you don’t hate that it did. There’s a part of you that thinks there’s a chance that maybe Frankie didn't hear it, but you know that boy would die before he stopped hanging onto every word that fell from your lips. 

There’s a part of you that also swears he’s trying with everything in him to keep from smiling. 

Your attention shifts with Frankie’s body, hovering back over yours with his fist wrapped around the base of his shaft, sinking his hips to line himself up with your entrance. His tip brushes against your clit, a familiar jolt of pleasure swirling in your stomach at how you clench around nothing, anxious and aching to feel him inside you. 

“I-if it’s too much, or it doesn’t feel good, or you wanna stop, just-” 

“I know, Frankie. I’ll tell you, I promise.” 

Your low exhale syncs with Frankie’s gulp, each of you bracing yourselves as you finally feel his tip breach inside you. You try your best to relax, squirming your bottom half with each inch Frankie sinks himself deeper. You’re sure there’s a wince as he pushes past the halfway point- not painful, but a sting and stretch in a way you’ve never felt. Frankie freezes, gently grabbing your hip. 

“You good, Kenzie? You want me to stop?” 

“No, I’m okay, just kind of stings a little, but it still feels good. Maybe if you didn’t have such a big dick, it wouldn’t be a problem.” You tease, letting out a little huff of laughter. 

It’s now Frankie’s turn to scrunch the muscles of his face, cocking your head at the grit of his teeth. 

“Frankie, are you okay?” 

“Yup. Yup, I’m good. When you laughed it squeezed my dick and it felt really good and I’m trying not to make a fucking fool of myself right now.” 

“Sorry, no more laughing, got it.” You grimace, desperately trying not to giggle at Frankie’s pained concentration as he shakes his head at you. “Y- you can keep going, though.” 

“F-fuck, o-okay.” 

There’s another deep breath before he’s pushing his hips towards you, taking his time as you feel the pain start to shift to indescribable pleasure, the feeling of how full he is inside of you making every wire in your brain short circuit. 

“Holy fucking shit.” Frankie whispers under his breath, “Fuck, you feel so good, MacKenzie.” 

You wish you had the words to tell him how you feel the same, but the best you can muster is a muffled moan that escapes from your unhinged jaw, brain empty at the sweet stretch of his fullness, stagnant inside you. 

F-fuck Frankie. Oh my god.” You murmur, letting the muscles of your face untense so the weight of your eyelids can flutter open, soaking in the image of Frankie above you. The rest of your body follows, slowly beginning to relax as you adjust, yearning for more than just his hips flushed against yours. “Y-you can move, Frankie.” 

He lets his arms sink from the plank he’s holding, letting your chests flush together so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck, groaning into your skin with the first thrust of his hips, steadily sliding in and out of your heat, savoring every second of the sensation. 

“You still okay, baby?” Frankie coos into your ear, the new nickname only adding to the way you want to clench down around his length as he keeps his languid pace, dragging his cock along the warmth and wetness of your walls. 

“Mhmmm. You can go faster, i-if you want. F-fuck, it feels so good, Frankie.” 

The way you whimper and whine his name sets off a low rumble deep in his chest, lips locking with yours as you feel him pump just a little harder, his length nudging the same, savory spot he had found before with his fingers. Your hand shoots up to wrap around his bicep, nails marking crescent moons in his skin. 

Every move he makes is solely based on your reaction, reading the way your body responds to him before daring to take a step further. Your iron grip and sweet moans are enough to spur him on further, a steady rhythm now working through each thrust of his hips. 

There’s a new knot in your stomach that starts to tighten, building in your gut and slowly creeping its way to spread throughout your body. The coarse hairs curling at the base of his shaft brush against your clit just enough to spark a jolt of electricity to your core, bucking your hips into his with each thrust. You’re desperate to reach the same high he had given you before, eager to ease the ache of your sensitive bud. 

Frankie picks up on the way you rut back into him, snaking his hand down your front, making just enough space between your bodies to let the pads of his fingers find your clit. The pressure he adds with the circles and swirls makes your breath hitch in the back of your throat, overwhelmed with arousal by how all encompassing Frankie is. 

It’s hard to believe how quickly you find yourself becoming addicted to him, your body yearning to become one with his and never separate. You want your heart, your soul, for all of it to be his, and only his, to be unable to find where you end and he begins. 

The only thing you want is to be his. 

With each stroke, your pussy flutters faster around his length, the tingle that had formed at the base of your spine now seeping through your veins, teetering on the brink of collapse. 

“F-fuck- fuck, Frankie, don’t stop. Fuck, I- I think I’m- I’m close.” 

If it was anyone else, there would be no words to describe the embarrassment from the pathetic whimper you let out at the way Frankie groans while he punches into you. A look of pained concentration splays across his face, focusing with every brain cell he has left to make sure you finish first. 

“Shit- I- I- fuck, I’m close, too.” He stutters, chest heaving in between each word. 

He presses his forehead into yours, meeting you with the tacky sheet of sweat that now clings to his skin and dampens his curls. His scent, his warmth, the weight of his body laid across yours- you almost dare to wish that this moment, this feeling, would never end. 

But the way he whispers your name, each letter warm and tickling your skin, a sweet symphony only he can sing is what sends you over the edge, pushing you past the point of no return. 

“M-MacKenzie… f-fuck, MacKenzie-”  

Each syllable is an explosion inside you, lighting you up to send sparks through every last limb until you’re sobbing his name, singing his own sweet song back to him. 

“Frankie, Frankie, Frankiefrankiefrankie-ahhhhh-” 

The dam inside you finally breaks, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you as you squeeze around him, swallowed whole by the electricity of it all. 

There’s not much your mind can process after you snap, but there’s enough strength left to keep your gaze locked on Frankie and the way he gasps as his jaw drops after you’ve finished. He’s just as lost as you, relishing in your afterglow as he chases his own high, each thrust more sloppy and erratic than the last. 

“Fuck, fuck, holy shit MacKenzie, fuck, I’m gonna cum so ha-aaaaahhh-” 

There’s only one last shift of his hips before he’s spilling into the condom, a final moan that follows his release as he collapses into you. Your chests rise and fall in sync, breaths heavy as you pant in the soft silence that fills the room.

The quiet brings a gentle comfort, basking in the bliss that radiates off each of you as you let yourselves drift back to earth, praying it gives you enough time to remember how to speak. 

It’s Frankie who arrives back first, too consumed with your own journey back to hear the way his voice breaks as he carefully whispers your name. 

“MacKenzie?” 

“Yeah, Frankie?” 

“C-can I tell you something?” 

“Anything.” 

His sweet call brings you back, thumb brushing against the warmth of his cheek, waiting on every word he's working himself up to say.

“MacKenzie, I- MacKenzie, I- I think I love you.” 

It's then you're sure your heart stops- four little letters forcing a smile so wide across your face, your positive your cheeks may hurt for days after.

Maybe, if you're lucky, they'll keep hurting like this for the rest of your life.

“Can I tell you something, Morales? I think I might just love you, too.” 

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