#keys gift fic
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morningstargirl666 · 1 year ago
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FIC REC FRIDAY #4
ad aeternam. by darkness_shows_the_stars / @stars-and-darkness
His eyes are intent on her. They always are, but never so strong, never so scorching, as when he’s needling for information she’d rather not give.
“I want you to come and …” She sighs. This is more difficult than she had expected it to be, and that’s saying something. She’d expected it to be like pulling teeth, but the feeling is more akin to ripping off an arm. “I want you to come and pretendtodateme.”
There. Done. That wasn’t so hard, was it?
No, not at all.
Klaus’s face smooths over, washed of all emotion. “Would you mind repeating that?”
Guys. Listen. I don't go searching for fake dating AUs. Mostly because I'm not a fan of human AUs. When I'm reading klaroline fanfiction, I'm here for the fantasy element, the age old hybrid falling in love with the blonde baby vampire. Therefore, fake dating AUs just don't really blip up on my radar. But. Guys. Guys. THIS FIC ALRIGHT. THIS FIC HAS OVERHAULED MY ENTIRE BELIEF SYSTEM???? LIKE? IT'S POST-CANON DIVERGENCE???????? YET A FAKE DATING AU????????????? DO YOU SEE THE QUESTION MARKS HERE IT DIDN'T EVEN OCCUR TO ME THIS COULD BE A THING AND YET IT IS AND IT IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CREATION TO EVER EXIST?
Anyways. Yeah, go read it.
OR I AM DISOWNING ALL OF YOU
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smidgen-of-hotboy · 1 year ago
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TPP 36 Questions AU, Scrapped Content:
The nice, warm inviting fuzziness evaporates. Reality returns. Peter Ransom is dead. He was never real. And maybe neither was their marriage. It all comes crashing back in waves. Four years of the rest of their lives, the suits, the note, two weeks alone in a lighthouse. He came here for one thing, and that one thing still found its way back to him. That one thing is a thief. An actual con artist. And a stalker, a liar, a disillusioned washed up son-of-a–
-question six, "If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?"
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dipplinduo · 3 months ago
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YOU'VE HEARD OF FANART FOR THE WRITER.
LADIES, GENTS, & FOLKS, MAY I NOW PRESENT, FANWRITING FOR THE ARTIST:
Hahaha, real talk though: this was just a quick little ficlet that I wanted to write for @kekstala as an appreciation gift & celebration for their wonderful soul! Kekstala, thank you so much for your endless support and all of the beautiful artwork you have shared with me and the rest of the dipplinshipping community. I treasure each and every piece you make. So now, TASTE YOUR OWN MEDICINE. xD This ficlet was fully written for this particular set of artwork ~ <3
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I was in mood for some domestic, sleepy cuddle Dipplinshipping :T
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moginrambles · 10 months ago
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got to decide what to write next... i have a few fics drafted for four different fandoms and i should probably rotate which fandom i focus on as i go but we'll see
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lustkillers · 3 months ago
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Would love to see some content for Simon from Dinner in America or Colin Gray, you’re more than welcome to pick the subject matter, preferably female reader
。゚・ ୨୧ . i owe you a black eye and two kisses.
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⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - oh, how he's missed his girl during his time away.
⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - simon / john q x fem!reader
✶ c.w. - nsfw freaky deaky time!! hard?dom simon, sub!reader, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP.), p in v, car sex (in a volkswagen beetle...), public sex, STOMACH BULGE!!! facial, throat fucking-ish, degradation—but also praise, cowgirl position, overstimulation, hair pulling, very cutesy fic... (let me know if i missed anything!)
⊹₊ ⋆ note - back from the dead (laziness) and kicking it!! i hope i did this request justice as i haven’t written in so long… WHOOPS. its been literally ages since i wrote smut so i apologize if i’m rusty as hell doing this… PLEASE FORGIVE ME. anywho… LUSTKILLERS IS SO BACK BABY 🙂‍↕️
requests are open! <3
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THE night was cold and you couldn't be more bored out of your mind. the windows of your red volkswagen beetle were down, the distinctive smell of the car gas filling the air around you. your leg bounced, the keys that consisted of plenty of keychain accessories clinking against each other, and your eyes traced over the rusty, tall fence that you probably counted all the diamond-shaped holes between each steel bar. how long have you been here? an hour? hour too early?
at the rate of biting at your own cheek unconsciously, there was probably a dent that was left inside your cheek from how much you've bit down on it. turning your palms over was a nightmare; your hands glistening with sweat from anticipation. you wanted to look the best. you wanted everything to be perfect.
you couldn't even remember how he ended up here; maybe you blocked it out. slightly tragic on your end, watching as your boyfriend was cuffed and put into the back of a cop car, the last thing you experienced together was your fingers loosely holding a cigarette for him. that feeling left you empty... and a bit sexually frustrated, due to the fact that he had promised to fuck you real good after his performance.
a masculine silhouette stood at the goddamned fence that you loathed, your eyes shooting up at the whirring sound of the mechanical fence sliding to the right, leaving the figure to leave. you let go of the cigarettes that laid in the cupholder, your slippery hands moving to unlock your car.
with a frustrated yell, you quickly wiped your hands on the seats on your car, restoring the dryness that easily helped you unlock your god forsaken car. you opened the door, ducking under the slight top ledge that you've hit your head on plenty of times. you were giddy like a child receiving their gifts on their birthday– squealing as you shut the door behind you and stood in front of the driver's side door, bouncing on the tips of your toes, and a smile spread across your face.
simon had that stupid smirk on his face, scruff all over his face, and his hair slightly grown out from the last time you saw him. he also had the same clothes on from the last time, the green jacket and black pants with the boots. it felt like the first time all over again, and god, that outfit made your pussy throb, and your knees were moments away from bucking and landing onto the dirt ground.
"didn't i tell you to get rid of that goddamn car? looks stupid, the ladybug print and all." simon said gruffly, a slight smirk creeping onto the corners of with lips, his siren-like eyes peering down at you.
you looked up at him with a slight pout and doe eyes, "i think it looks cute." you mumbled in defense. his eyes gleamed with a predatory look on you. cute, he thought. but what left his lips was just a mere scoff, his smirk turning into a smile... which was still somehow intimidating if you think about it.
"looks like a kiddie car, that's what it looks like." he taunted, making you playfully roll your eyes.
you huff, "i'm gonna punch you in the face... leave a black eye while i'm at it." your voice taunting, yet not really sincere. he only chuckled in response, "c'mere." he moved towards you, his lips swinging down to kiss yours, kissing away the pout that now disappeared.
his rough, big hands wandered towards your ass, gripping it with no intent of letting go. simon's kisses were one of a man deprived of lust and yearning, and he wasn't planning to let your breathe for air. his hands roamed around your backside, his feet pushing you back towards the silly-looking car, his right hand pulling at the door handle, swinging the door open.
simon's eyes opened from the kiss, his frustration growing from the lack of the backdoors your car had. he let out a groan, his lips unlatching from yours, his jaw clenching as he softly moved you aside, bringing the drivers seat forward so you two could hop in the back. his pants strained against his bulge, and the whine that left your lips made it even worse.
"give me a moment doll, your car is pissing me off." he grumbled, watching his head as he hopped into the small car, with you behind him, closing the door. he was sitting with his legs spread, you in front of him with little to no space at all, on your knees, which were already feeling rough from the material of the bottom the car.
you and simon made no time to push down your pants, his hands unbuckling the shiny belt that clinked once it unfastened from his waist, and your hands helped slide them down, his thick, long cock springing free, and you could've sworn your eye twitched at the sight. with the way he looked down at you and the non-existent space you left between your face and his cock, the feeling between your thighs released itself like a flood; your thighs pressing together in instinct.
"god, if you don't hurry it up, i might take matters into my own hands." he groaned out, swallowing dryly as his hands gripped at your hair; making you squeak out a quick 'sorry,' and your tongue quickly laid flat against the side of his cock; a hiss escaping simon's pretty lips. "fuck," he groaned.
you worked your way around his cock, your head bobbing up and down, trying your best to keep eye-contact with him as you bobbed. spit drooled down the sides of your mouth; the liquid pooling at the base of his cock, slowly sliding down his strained balls; the sounds of his grunts and low groans filling the small car.
he felt your right hand shift towards your sopping pussy; mewls leaving your lips as you rubbed your clit, heightening your senses, but also making you focus less on working his cock. simon noticed it, his grip on your hair turning into a makeshift lever, the control reeling to him as he started to guide your head up and down, his cock spearing at the back of your throat, hitting past the uvula. the feeling made you gag, spluttering more spit around his cock, the sight being messy as ever. he pulled your head from his cock, your right hand leaving your clit in response, and as your lips left his cock, it making you gasp out in air; your eyes watering from the intense throat-fuck that was definitely going to leave you sore, along with your poor legs that were soon to fall victim to his fucking.
"si, give me a moment–" you squealed, making simon laugh as he pulled you up onto his lap, laughter leaving from both your lips. "tryna get me put in jail again, doll? fuckin' in front of the prison i just got out of?" he smirked, his forehead touching yours.
"not my fault, si– oh!" you hum in response, which quickly turned into a gasp– which finally turned into a moan, his cock knowingly filling your tight walls. his hips piston upwards, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt. his hands held at your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock, creating a white, creamy ring around the base.
the car windows immediately fogged up, heat and sweat glistening on both your bodies, the occasional cocky laugh simon let out settled into your ears, making you shiver. your hips worked at a sensual speed, grinding and bouncing, alternating between the two, moans spilling from your lips.
his lips shut your moans up for a bit, before pulling away and murmuring, "so pretty bouncing on my cock, like the slut you are." he smiled against your shoulder, placing a kiss against it as he looked at you, babbling and panting. "feel that?" he whispered, pressing down on the bulge his cock made in your stomach, immediately making you start to crumble.
you looked at him, your hips started to falter and grow slower, your legs tired and your thighs shaking as the pressure built up, waiting to burst out. but you tried to keep your pace going, your hands on his chest as you whimpered.
your lips tried to form a sentence, only letting out broken words. "c–cum... i needa– hmph!" you cry out, feeling the vibrations of simon's chuckle. "can i–?" you whimpered, moments away from crying in frustration.
his lips captured yours once again, making you come undone. you came around his cock, clenching as your thighs tried to close at the feeling; high-pitched moans leaving your lips as you were sent into a fruitful bliss. "haah–! t-thank you, si!" you sigh, your hips stuttering, still lazily grinding, praying to god that simon finds his release, or you'd probably lose it.
simon groaned, nearing his release as he fucks up into you, your overstimulated pussy weeping and soaking. "m'gonna cum," he exhaled, and at his words– he came, but he planned to cum on your face, his hands making quick–but safe work, one shot of cum shooting inside your cunt, and when you blink, you're already on your knees, hot spurts of his warm cum hitting your face, your eyes closing. he let out a hoarse breath, "that was fuckin' tits," he laughed, hunched over. his cock started to soften, his hands making quick work and grabbed the cigarette pack and paper towel that sat inside the cup holder. he ripped a piece of paper towel, wiping your face... decently clean, but it was the effort that counted.
your eyes fluttered open to look at him, a smirk on his face as a lit cigarette hung from his lips, his rough hands cupping your face and stroking his thumb across your fucked-out cheeks. "you're one of a kind, y'know that?" he let out a sigh, fixing your clothes back on you, and pulling you up to straddle him again sharing a kiss, which tasted like cigarettes, but you didn't mind. you never had a problem with him and he never had a problem with you. the world revolved around you both and nobody else. his eyes twinkled at the sight of your eyes, and his face softened.
"ditto." you whispered, smiling.
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navybrat817 · 2 months ago
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Double Shift
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Pairing: Chop Shop Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky helps you unwind after you work a double shift.
Word Count: Over 1.8k
Warnings: Established relationship, slight insecurities, bit of backstory, dirty talk, mild smut, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: @nixakimbo was kind enough to gift me with this GORGEOUS edit and I had to create a new AU. Sorry, lovelies? @tavners , this is for you. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You dropped your bag the moment you walked through the door. Your feet ached despite the comfortable shoes, and your head throbbed with each passing second. Groaning, you dragged yourself to the couch, collapsing into it like it was the only place you’d ever wanted to be. Working doubles was exhausting, but this? This was something else entirely.
It was a long day in a series of long days, but now you had a chance to relax.
Reaching for the nearby pillow, you inhaled deeply, a smile tugging at your lips. Instead of the usual fresh scent of your couch, you caught the familiar, warm fragrance of your boyfriend’s cologne. He must have spritzed it before leaving for work. It was like leaning into him and your shoulder relaxed more, even though you wished he were really there.
The sound of the door creaking open a few minutes later told you that your wish had been granted.
“Aww. Long day, baby?” Bucky cooed from the doorway, spotting you sprawled out with no intention of moving to greet him. “You know your bag’s on the ground?”
“Mm-hmm.” You rubbed your temples slowly. “You know I worked a double, right? I’m lucky I made it to the couch.”
His soft chuckle reached your ears as he set his keys down and picked up your bag. “I know and I’m sorry. You work really hard.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead once he reached the couch. “I wish you didn't have to.”
You turned your head, the throbbing in your temples easing when your eyes met his. His black tank top fit him perfectly, complementing the tattoos that stretched across his neck and arms. The skulls and flowers, symbols of death and hope, told stories of his past. Stories he didn't have to tell you about, but he did anyway and you were happy to know every detail. As captivating as the ink was, it was his blue eyes that held you. In them, you saw your future, bright and full of love.
“That’s life. And you work hard, too,” you reminded him.
“Yeah. My job is so honorable,” he mumbled, making a mess of his hair as he ran a hand through it. “I’m really making a difference in the world.”
You frowned sympathetically. Bucky was a gifted mechanic, but his family was dealt a bad hand and he did what he had to do to take care of his younger sister. “And you’ll be out of there soon.”
Once he finished paying off Becca's medical bills, he could quit. That day was getting closer and closer. And one day he’d open his own shop, too, a legitimate shop. You wanted to stand beside him when that dream came true. Becca would be so proud.
Both of you wanted the best for Bucky.
He sighed, sinking to his knees and resting his hands on your thighs. You could see the gray peppering his scruff and you couldn’t help but reach out to run your nails through it. The sound of his groan made you smile, so you did it again.
“I just wanna give you the world,” he whispered, turning his head and kissing your palm. “You know that, right?”
“You already do,” you whispered back, his eyes softening. You had a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and his love in your heart. It was all you needed. “But you know, I could-”
Bucky put a finger to your lips to stop you. “I know what you're going to say and we’re not selling your dad's car.”
You smiled sadly. Your dad’s car was a classic and could get Bucky the money he needed, but he turned the offer down each time you brought it up. He didn't want you to give up one of the only things you had left of your dad. “I won't say a word tonight.”
But you could try again tomorrow.
“Thank you.” He took your hand and kissed your palm again. “You up for a ride later?”
“I don’t think I’m moving from this spot tonight,” you half smiled. “But we can tomorrow.”
“You don’t wanna go for a ride tonight?” he asked, surprise laced in his voice. You usually jumped at the chance to ride his motorcycle with him.
“Feet and head hurt a little,” you admitted, touching his cheek as concern etched his features. “I’m fine, really. Nothing for you to make a fuss about, but I won't turn you down if you want to dote on me.”
“Baby,” he sighed, slipping your shoes off. You gasped when he began massaging the sole of your right foot, the gentle pressure making your body sink deeper into the couch. By the time he switched to your left foot, you were practically melting. “That better?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, combing your fingers through his dark hair. He always took care of you. “I swear, you have magic hands.”
“Oh, I have more than magic hands,” he winked, your heart skipping a beat. “And you know what’s good for headaches?”
“Bucky…” you smiled. There was a warning in your voice, but you couldn't help the amusement in your eyes.
“Yes, me,” he grinned. “I’m very good at helping with headaches and you know it.”
Your smile widened. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh, so making you come all over my face before I cook you dinner was not what you meant and will not help your headache?” he asked, his voice deep, dripping with desire.
Whatever ache you felt in your body all went straight to your pussy. A deep, throbbing ache that cried out for him to soothe it since he was the cause. “Is making melt on your tongue as my reward for working a double?”
He smirked at your breathy tone. “That’s exactly what it is.” He didn’t need to ask you to lift your hips when he reached for the waistband of your pants and pulled them off with your underwear. Your body moved on instinct for him, fluid and in sync. “I can feed you right here and carry you to bed, too.”
“I’m too big and heavy for you to carry me,” you teased. His eyes flashed, and before you could react, he leaned down unexpectedly, sinking his teeth into your thigh. Your mouth fell open from the sting, but it felt good, too. “Hey!” You shrieked.
“You’re not big. You’re not heavy. You’re perfect,” he snarled, brushing his tongue along the teeth marks. You wanted his mark all over you. “I’ll blame that remark on how tired you are right now from work.”
Framing his face to lift his head, you met his lips in a soft kiss, hoping to convey how much it meant to you that he saw you as beautiful. How touched you were that he always put your care and feelings first. As scary as he looked to others, you knew the man inside. The one with a heart full of passion.
“I’m not perfect,” you whispered against his lips, gasping when he nibbled your bottom lip. A second bite for once again downplaying yourself. “But I’m perfect for you.”
“You think so?” he asked quietly.
“I know so,” you said, biting his bottom lip for good measure.
He thought you were too good for him some days, and you were quick to shut that down. A good man wouldn’t have taken care of his sister the way he did, and he wouldn’t love you wholeheartedly if he was less of a good person than you. His current profession didn’t define him, and you refused to let him believe it did.
“I...” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Love...” You shivered when he kissed the other corner. “You.”
A flame lit within your heart. His tender touches and words burned you from the inside out. “I love you, too,” you managed to whisper before his lips covered yours again.
Fresh arousal washed over you when he smiled and kissed down your body. “Now let me show you with my mouth how much I love you,” he simpered, parting your legs to open for him. “Might die if I don’t get my mouth on you and you wouldn’t want that, would you? And we need to get rid of your headache.”
You moaned, also feeling like you’d die if he didn’t touch you. “Do I get your cock, too? It’s a pretty bad headache you need to help me get rid of,” you teased. If your pain actually persisted, he’d make you take something and insist on you resting. And maybe it was selfish to ask for more than one orgasm, but you both knew he wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to rock your world.
“Before and after dinner,” he promised, his pupils dialting as he stared between your trembling thighs. “Fuck, I missed you today,” he groaned.
“Missed me or my pussy?” you asked, certain that you were going to soak the cushion beneath you and you didn’t care as long as he got you off. “Because we both missed you.”
He smirked, his hand inching up your thigh. “Of course, you missed me. Who else would make you come as hard as I do?”
Cocky was a good look on him, but you could play a little, too. “Well…” Your coy smile had him raising his eyebrow. “If you really want to know, there’s-” You threw your head back with a cry as Bucky’s head dipped down to taste you, effectively cutting off your teasing.
It wouldn’t take long for you to coat his fingers and tongue with your release. It never did with him. He’d make you taste yourself when he kissed you after so you could fully appreciate the orgasm he gave you. He wouldn’t give you any reprieve when he’d bend you over the couch and sink his cock into your sensitive pussy. Your sounds would be erotic music to his ears, just like his words were music to yours.
“Grind that pussy back against me. Show me how much you crave my cock.”
“Such a good girl for me. Such a good pussy for me to fuck and fill.”
“Don’t you dare rub your clit. You wanna come? I’ll make you come.”
“Oh, you don’t have to beg for me to come inside you. I’ll give it to you.”
You’d scream his name in ecstasy and pass out in his arms from the best kind of exhaustion. You’d wake up to him kissing your forehead and holding you upright so he could hand feed you a delicious meal. You’d smile when he told you how much he loved you and that he'd be free of the chop shop soon. And you’d tell him you loved him, too, before he fucked you all over again.
It was going to be a good night.
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Appreciate you lovelies indulging me like always and hope to share more when I can. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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pathologicalreid · 3 months ago
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all we ever do is talk | s.r.
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in which Spencer and wife!reader fear they're getting boring, so the BAU sets them up with a hotel suite for Spencer's birthday
margotober masterlist
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: i don't remember. hold on. oral (f and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, breeding but not like the primordial kinky type just like, having sex to get pregnant, drinking wine, this is like circa s11, not proofread i'm just a girl, david rossi being rich for the plot, i hate hate hate the word pussy but here we are, softdom!spencer. spencer reid certified gift giver! word count: 4.17k a/n: a fic based on a del water gap song? who's surprised? no one! anyways i blacked out toward the end of writing this one no clue what happens here also sorry about the breeding thing i really don't know where that came from
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The robe you wore was luxurious, and the cumulative cost of every item in your hotel room likely cost more than you made in a year. Needless to say, you were starting to feel out of place in the room, your hair and makeup done to perfection as you waited for your husband to arrive.
Reaching into your pocket, you slip your phone out and check for notifications. JJ was your babysitter for the night, and even though she had insisted that everything would be fine, you had never actually spent a full night away from Eleanor. You had no idea how Spencer did it time and time again for cases.
You: Everything good? JJ: Shouldn’t you be with Spencer right now? You: He’s on his way. You: Everything good?
She responds with a picture of Nell, your sweet toddler, who was seemingly too focused on the bowl of mac n cheese in front of her to even look at the camera. You type out a reply to JJ before forwarding the photo to Spencer.
JJ assured you that Eleanor would be in good care with her and Will, and it’s not that you have any doubts, it’s that she’s your baby and this is your first time being away from her.
The door to the hotel room clicks, and you set your phone on the comforter, watching as Spencer walks into the room before returning the key card to his wallet. “Hey,” you greet from the bed, crossing one leg over the other.
“Hey, honey,” he says, striding over to you before pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, “You smell nice.”
You nod in the direction of the bathroom, “I got here early and took a bath.” Slowly, you take a better look at him, “You look good, I like that suit on you.”
He holds his arms out and looks down at himself, “I heard through the grapevine that you have a fantastic dress for tonight, so I figured I needed to pull out all of the stops.” Years ago, Rossi had gotten all of the BAU men custom designer suits, that must be the one your husband had chosen to wear tonight. It was fitting, seeing as Rossi was probably fronting most of the bill for your night.
“I’ve never heard Penelope referred to as a grapevine before,” you respond in jest, getting up from the bed before you make your way to the bathroom. “She helped pick the dress,” you inform him, shedding your robe before stepping into the dress. It was a short, black velvet number that clung to the contours of your body in a way that you hadn’t thought was possible. Instead of straps, two dainty chains went over your shoulders, leaving excess dangling over your back.
Spencer clears his throat, “So, how did the drop-off go?” He missed the big goodbye, which was probably for the best.
You sigh, “Nell was great. I was a mess.” You had only been given a few days to prepare for being away from her.
Carefully pulling the chains over your shoulders, you look at yourself in the mirror before slipping your heels on and stepping out of the bathroom. Spencer was standing in front of the windows, watching the sunset over the horizon, “For what it’s worth, I had no issue with the original plan for tonight.”
Initially, you had planned to celebrate Spencer’s birthday at home with Eleanor, and there was meant to be a party with the rest of the BAU tomorrow evening. Somehow, the team had gotten the idea that the two of you needed an evening out, so they chipped in to give you just that—some members more than others.
“I’m always alright with spending quality time with my girls, but—” his voice cuts off as he turns to look at you, “Never mind.”
You chuckle, “What?” Looking down at yourself, you smooth out the front of the dress with your palms.
His eyes wander as he unabashedly checks you out, “I’m finding with every passing moment that this might be my preferred plan for the evening.” He watches attentively as you go back to sitting on the edge of the bed, fixing a twisted strap of your heel while Spencer stands directly in front of you.
“When was the last time we went out on a date?” You ask, strapping your heel around your ankle.
He hums, fake thinking about your question even though he knows the exact date, “However old Nell is, add approximately ten months,” he answers.
You look up at him, your face warming in surprise, “Has it really been that long?”
Spencer nods mournfully, “Almost three and a half years,” he sits down on the bed next to you, placing his hand on your bare thigh and swiping at the soft skin with his thumb.
Holding your hands up to your face, you glance at Spencer with wide eyes, “Oh, Spence. When did we get boring?”
“We aren’t boring,” he insists, “We have a two-year-old. We work.”
You raise your eyebrows at him, “Other people do those things, and they’re not boring.”
He matches your look, “We aren’t boring,” he repeats. “Let’s make a deal,” Spencer offers, “Tonight, you and I won’t be boring.
“Right, so we’ll have a glass of wine at dinner tonight and then return to being boring tomorrow?” You say glumly, watching as he shifts on the mattress, adjusting his weight distribution.
“No,” he whispers, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips before sliding off the mattress, leaving him on his knees in front of you.
Blinking absently at him, your heart jumps at the sight of him in front of you, “You know we have dinner reservations, right?”
He gives you a slightly incredulous look, “You know it’s an open reservation, right? We have it until midnight.”
Your head bobs in acknowledgment, silently permitting him to part your knees, and you watch him come to the realization that you weren’t wearing any panties, “I didn’t want any lines to show under the dress,” you explain. There was also a part of you that hoped your evening would go in this direction.
Placing his hands on your hips, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, rolling your dress up to your waist, leaving you bare in front of him, “You’re perfect,” he breathes, “I don’t tell you that enough.” His fingers carefully prod at your core, a ghosting of pressure as he sweeps his index finger over your folds, an array of goosebumps forming over your skin.
Your breath hitches when he grips one of your thighs, placing it over his shoulder in the way he’s done numerous times before, but it always seems to take your breath away. “You tell me plenty,” you say, the sensation of his breath on your wet heat affecting you in ways you haven’t felt in ages.
“That’s not nearly enough,” he scolds himself, craning his head forward to press a kiss to your clit, chuckling when you jump as a result.
Releasing a breathy laugh, you look down at Spencer, your heart racing as you await his next move, “Then tell me again,” you whisper.
Spencer hums in response, slipping his pointer finger inside of you as he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”
You let out a soft moan as his finger slowly starts moving out, taking it slowly as you lean back on your hands, careful not to mess your hair up too badly, “Spence,” you whine at the pressure.
“I know,” he tells you, “It’s been a while, huh?”
Closing your eyes, you nod quickly as he slips a second finger into your cunt, a gasp escaping your lips as your body stretches around his fingers, “It’s been too long,” you tell him, lifting one hand to your mouth and biting down on your knuckle to muffle your sounds—a habit you’d picked up since having a baby.
He hums, peering up at you through hooded eyes, “This is a honeymoon suite, angel. It’s engineered to keep sound in.”
Your hand drops obediently, falling back to the mattress as you ignore the implications of the BAU reserving the honeymoon suite for you and focusing on your husband, who was bending his neck down to suck your clit. His lips encircle the sensitive nub as you let out a low whimper, knowing what’s about to come making you apprehensively excited.
Steadily, Spencer works at you, thrusting his fingers while suckling at your clit, periodically using his tongue to apply pressure, and reveling in your high-pitched moans as he drives you closer and closer to what you’re sure will be your first of many orgasms of the night.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, moving one hand to the top of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging at the strands.
He shifts on his knees slightly, coming up for air as he adjusts the angle of his fingers inside of your cunt, going back down on you as his fingers find a new pace. They curl inside of you, targeting the spongy button that makes your abdomen tighten and your thighs tremble.
Overwhelmed, you repeat his name like a prayer while you pull at his hair, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you cry, helplessly staring at the ceiling while Spencer keeps his motions going, his fingers relentlessly thrusting into you while he sucks at your clit, encouraging your orgasm.
Your walls clench around his fingers as your orgasm rips through you, your legs shaking as your husband remains buried between your legs, working you through your orgasm, “So perfect,” he pants, gently massaging your pussy as he withdraws his fingers, pressing soft, tender kisses to the insides of your thighs. “We don’t even have to go to dinner,” he says, looking at you hungrily.
You smile down at him, “We should go, Dave called in a favor to get us this reservation.”
Spencer straightens up and nods in agreement, holding his hand up to your mouth, “Open,” he says, looking satisfied when you poke your head forward, putting your lips around his two fingers and tasting yourself on them.
Sucking your own slick from his fingers, you focus on his eyes as you swirl your tongue around them, watching the dilation of his pupils because you know exactly what effect you’re having on him. He slips his fingers from your mouth before dropping a kiss on your lips, the entire exchange reminiscent of the time before you had Eleanor. You weren’t complaining.
Checking his watch, Spencer stands up straight in front of you, helping you stand, he holds onto your waist while you find your balance, “How are you feeling?”
You peer up at him through your mascara-coated eyelashes, “Most decidedly not boring,” you answer, following him into the bathroom so the two of you can clean up.
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“C’mere,” Spencer beckons, looking at you from across the table. “You’re too far away,” he explains, the table at the restaurant keeping the two of you apart when you’ve already established that you want to be close tonight.
Taking your napkin off of your lap and setting it on the table, you grab your glass of wine and make your way to your husband. In the private room that had been reserved for you, “Here I am,” you present yourself to him, the privacy glass that surrounded you concealing the way his arm snaked around your waist, guiding you to his lap.
He smiles up at you, “That’s better,” he says, your legs latticed over his own.
Looking over your shoulder at the table, you hum an acknowledgment, “This table is almost comically large for two people.” You imagine it’s intended to be fancy, a long, glamorous table for a glamorous restaurant. You lean your head against Spencer’s, closing your eyes and appreciating your closeness, “Happy birthday, my love.”
“It’s not my birthday yet,” he murmurs, tipping his head back and kissing you softly, the taste of the wine that had been chosen for you was faint on his lips.
A soft giggle bubbles in your throat, “Then I’ll have to stay up until midnight so that I get to be the first one to tell you.”
Humming, Spencer settles a hand on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze, “The real challenge there is staying up until midnight.”
“I’m sure we can think of something to keep us up,” you grin cheekily, swinging your legs. “So, before you’re officially older,” you begin, “What do you want to do with your next year of life?”
“Finish the bathroom remodel,” he answers almost immediately, referring to your main floor bathroom that had been in disarray for months. The countertop that you had chosen was still on backorder.
You raise your eyebrows, “What do you want to do that will help us on our pursuit to become less boring?”
Spencer studies your expression, taking his time before answering, “I’d like to at least discuss having another baby,” he responds.
Admittedly, it had been on your mind recently. With Kate leaving the BAU to spend time with her baby and JJ announcing she and Will were expecting, considering having a second baby wasn’t out of the realm of imagination. “You want another baby?” Your question is soft, you look at him, studying the brown eyes that he had passed down to Eleanor.
He nods, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles on your bare thigh. “I know that you’ll bear most of the responsibility if we have another baby. I’ll still be around as much as work will allow, but there’s only so much room for variables in the BAU. I wouldn’t want you to feel alone in it, but I— I’d like for Nell to have a sibling.”
“Okay,” you breathe, not needing much convincing to come to a conclusion. Admittedly, you weren’t expecting this conversation tonight, but it wasn’t a conversation you’d ever had before. Eleanor was about as much of a surprise as a baby could be.
Spencer looks surprised at your reply, “What?”
Slinging your arms around his shoulders, you shrug, “Let’s have another baby. This time next year Nell will be three, so, now almost feels like a perfect time.”
“It takes most couples months to conceive when they’re trying,” Spencer tells you, “Only about thirty percent conceive in the first three months.”
You raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “How long does it take couples who have a luxury hotel room to themselves for the night?” Your loaded question easily slides off your tongue as you lift your hand to his chest, thumbing the silk fabric of his tie while you wait for his answer.
He led the way to the hotel room, luckily the hotel and restaurant were connected; you would’ve hated for a cab driver to see you dazedly staring at your husband with the promise of what comes next.
Pulling his keycard from his wallet, Spencer pushes the door open, dragging you in behind him before pressing you up against the wall. You shove at the lapels of his jacket, trying to get it off of him.
Haphazardly, you drop pieces on the floor, Spencer’s jacket, your heels, his tie, everything falling away as the two of you stumble to the bed. You yelp when you fall back onto the bed, Spencer catches himself above you and a fit of giggles erupts from your mouth. A sort of light, airy feeling goes through your head while you’re beneath him, the freeing feeling of knowing you’re about to have sex and you don’t have to worry about your toddler knocking on your door was overwhelming.
You kiss him while fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt, pulling the white fabric from where it was tucked before discarding that as well. “Wait,” you say breathlessly.
Spencer sits up, panting as he looks down at you, “What is it?” He asks, eyes searching for something wrong.
You prop yourself up on your elbows, “I bought lingerie for tonight,” you tell him, eyes flickering over to your overnight bag. The blue, lacy set was calling your name.
Hovering back over you, Spencer bows his head and presses a soft, unhurried kiss to your lips, “Show me later?”
Nodding, you watch him as he pulls his undershirt off, another bundle of fabric lost to the ground. Gently, you push at him, making it so his back is on the mattress as you place one knee on either side of his waist.
His hands tug at the hem of your dress, ruching the fabric around your waist as you slowly grind your hips over his. “Fuck, baby,” he hisses, already tightly wound after your earlier activities.
Understanding, you start to leave a trail of kisses down his chest, continuing to go lower until you’re unbuckling his belt and undoing his fly, placing your hand over his already hard cock and palming him on top of his briefs, “You’re so hard,” you moan, your mind thinking ahead to when he’ll inevitably fuck you.
In the interim, you tug his pants and briefs halfway down his thighs, leaving his length standing at attention for only a moment before you duck your head, licking a long stripe up the veiny underside of his cock. Spencer’s hips buck up from the mattress in response, and you take him in your mouth, using your hand to touch what you can’t fit in your mouth.
Pressing your tongue flat against the head, you moan with him in your mouth when he grabs a fistful of your hair. You were no longer worried about your appearance, only about driving him as crazy as possible.
“Angel,” he says, his voice strained, “I can’t— I need to be in you.”
You lift your head, moving back up to him and straddling his hips again, placing your bare pussy on top of his hard cock. Wiping drool from the corner of your mouth, you raise your eyebrows at Spencer, “Are you ready?”
He nods, mouth falling open when you lift yourself up and position his length at your entrance, “Oh, wow,” he breathes, gently rubbing at your clit as you ease yourself onto him, your walls throbbing around him. His hand settles on your hip as you take a moment to adjust.
Pulling at your dress, you tug it over your head, leaving it on the floor of the hotel room, “Ah,” you sigh, rolling your hips slightly to try and help your body adjust.
“Absolutely no lingerie necessary,” he says, his eyes studying your body as if he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. “I’m so thankful for you, my girl,” he murmurs with lust-hooded eyes.
You hum in response, bending at the hips to put your lips on his, a whimper escaping your lips when his hips buck up from the mattress again, “Fuck, call me that again.”
“My girl,” he echoes, thrusting up into you again. “I’m not going to last very long,” he admits, groaning as you start to lift yourself up and down on his cock.
Small whines come from your lips with every movement, you shake your head, “That’s okay, we can…” your voice trails off, “I don’t think I will either.” The admission comes as a bit of a surprise to yourself, you hadn’t realized you had gotten so worked up.
Snaking his hand between your bodies, Spencer focuses his attention on getting you to your second orgasm as your movements grow unsteady, “You’re doing so well,” Spencer encourages you, knowing you aren’t usually on top.
“Shit, Spence,” you gasp, your resolve failing as your torso drops forward, giving him the freedom to continue lifting his hips up into you, “Oh,” your cunt clenches down around him, “I’m cumming,” you tell him, burying your face in his chest as you cry out. His thrusts start to overstimulate you as he chases his own orgasm, and eventually his movements falter.
You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside of you as his hot cum fills you, a tired sigh as his rigid body relaxes back into the mattress, “Oh, my girl,” he whispers, smoothing your hair back as you catch your breath on top of him, “Why don’t you stay up here for a little bit?”
Nodding, you look up at him, a pink flush splattered across his face as you watch him, “I love you,” you breathe, glancing at the clock, “Happy birthday.”
Spencer spares a glance at the clock, three minutes past midnight, “I love you too, angel. Thank you.”
You sigh, lifting yourself on shaky arms and grabbing a box from his bedside table, “This is for you.”
He releases a breathy laugh, obviously amused at the idea of opening a birthday gift while he’s still buried inside of you, “I got you something too,” he admits, sweeping a strand of hair from your face.
Tilting your head to the side, you frown, “It’s not my birthday.”
Shaking his head, Spencer agrees with you, “No, but I find I can’t resist giving you gifts.”
You inhale sharply when he twists to open the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a rectangular box and resting it next to him so he can start to open the gift from you.
“Oh, honey,” he says, opening the watch box. His old one had a damaged mechanism and needed to be replaced, but it wasn’t something he was likely to spend the money on for himself. Naturally, you did it for him.
You raise your eyebrows, “It’s engraved,” you explain. Watching him take the watch out of the box and look at the back, the dates that you had carved in being significant markers in your relationship. Your wedding anniversary. The date Eleanor was born. There was plenty of space to add more dates too, should the time come.
“It’s perfect,” he tells you, placing the watch back in the box to keep it safe, “Thank you,” he says, shifting under you as he reaches for the box.
Rolling your eyes, you accept the box anyways, “Now, why would you get me a gift for your birthday,” you tut, undoing the ribbon on the box before opening it. “Oh,” you breathe, “Oh, Spence,” you say, tears pricking your eyes.
Inside of the box was a necklace, and strung on the dainty chain was a teardrop-shaped sapphire. “It’s Eleanor’s birthstone,” he explains, “I saw it last time Penelope dragged me to the mall with her, and I thought it was perfect for you.”
“It’s beautiful,” you say, moving to fasten it around your neck, the only other thing adoring your body being your wedding ring. You grin at your husband as you duck down to press a kiss to his lips, half-conscious of the way he’s kicking his pants off until he’s flipped you onto your back.
He hums as you moan, “You’re beautiful. You’re so, so beautiful,” he muses, burying his face in your neck and placing soft kisses along the column of your throat.
Opening your legs more, you invite him to come closer into you, “I would have agreed to have another baby a long time ago had I known I’d be treated so well,” you tease him gently, gasping as his lips attach to your breast, littering kisses all over you.
“I always treat you well,” he insists, taking a tentative thrust into you before taking you into his arms.
You whimper softly at the pressure on your pussy, “Spence,” you sigh, your sensitive cunt clenching around his cock. “Oh, god yes,” you mutter as he begins to find a pace, pressing his full length into you.
He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “I know baby,” he says, sticking to his rhythm and pushing your legs open wider, “I’ve got you.”
A curse falls from your lips as you screw your eyes shut, tilting your head back and gasping at the sensation, “I love you,” you tell him.
“I love you too,” he says, equally out of breath with you as he fucks into you with abandon, chasing a new high as you dig your nails into his back. “You’re so good for me, baby,” he hisses, “I’m gonna cum in you,” he warns, snapping his hips to yours.
A high-pitched moan comes from you as he paints your insides with his cum, the sensation of him filling you leading you to your third orgasm of the night as your walls pulse around him.
The two of you stay like that for a moment, waiting for someone to catch their breath as your eyes go wide. “Are you alright?” Spencer’s the first to speak, carefully pulling out of you and chuckling lightly when you whine at the empty feeling.
Nodding, you turn your head to the side, “Yeah, are you?”
He smiles, “I think this might be the least boring birthday I’ve ever had.”
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wileys-russo · 18 days ago
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the christmas eve dash II l.williamson
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second of my yearly christmas fics and part of the mila universe! the christmas eve dash II l.williamson
"lee? baby can you come here for a sec please!" you called out to your wife, hearing her footsteps change direction and head toward where you were holed up away in your shared home office.
"whats up babe? i'm just about to go pick up the gremlin." leah jingled her keys as she leaned in the doorway with a curious frown, mila at her weekly karate practice.
"christmas checklist!" you tapped your pen against the wad of paper in front of you as leah swallowed the dry witted comment lingering on the tip of her tongue.
"hit me with it." the blonde nodded encouragingly instead, moving into the room as you rattled off the last few remaining tasks on your list, forever having been the organisational mind between you and leah.
"-then you need to go pick up that spa voucher for your mum, i'll get the gift hampers for my cousins. we need to get some chocolate stockings for my nephews, the jersey your brother wanted is ready to be collected from JD-" you read off, leah humming to acknowledge each thing.
"-then we'll do mila's santa sack on christmas eve once she's asleep, or i'll do it." you paused to shoot your wife a pointed look as she winced, having had one whisky too many last year and falling into the christmas tree at three in the morning while the two of you were busy putting out your daughters presents.
"i said i was sorry! she didn't wake up, did she?" leah defended as you clicked your tongue. "didn't she?" you reminded, leah wincing again as she thought back to the two of you falling over yourselves to hide when little footsteps had come thundering down the hall.
"you are so lucky i can think fast dopey." you warned, having managed to commando crawl your way to your room and intercept your daughter from behind as if you'd been asleep there the whole time.
you'd rambled out an excuse about santa being able to turn invisible so he can hide from the police as the four year old questioned over and over why she couldn't go and say hi or open her presents now.
"-and then you got mila the barbie deluxe dream house. have you wrapped it yet? i couldn't find it in the closet with everything else for her." you spun around on your chair and quirked an eyebrow, leah freezing for a second.
"i got the what?" the blonde asked cluelessly as your eyes narrowed, hands moving to grip the arms of your chair as you exhaled slowly. "you got the barbie deluxe dream house with the swing sets, the slide, the elevator and the pool." you started, pushing to stand up.
"aka the only thing our daughter has been talking about for the last three weeks and the only thing she's asked santa for for christmas, leah." you spoke calmly but your wife could immediately pick up on the sharp scent of malice hidden behind your words.
now she needed to think fast.
"oh! that dreamhouse, the bright pink one with the little slide yeah yeah yeah." leah scoffed, smacking her palm against her forehead. "i got it ages ago babe, forgot all about it! you can tick it off your little list." the blonde grinned confidently with a wave of her hand.
"you did?" "well you asked me to, didn't you?" "well where is it?" "its uhh..." leah trailed off, wracking her brain for an answer, your foot tapping impatiently as you stared her down, arms crossed and hip jutted out to the side.
"it's at lia's! it was too big to hide and you know what mila's like." leah chuckled and you hummed. "mm nosy? wonder where she gets that from." you teased, relaxing a little more and leaning in to peck her lips a few times appreciatively.
"well thats a relief, it's sold out country wide. good luck to anyone who was planning on some last minute shopping, that stupid chunk of plastic would be impossible to find!" you chuckled, returning to your seat and your list as leah hid the panic building rapidly in her body.
"but what our little angel wants, she gets." you made a point to tick it off your list with a deep exhale. "mm and i wonder where she gets that from, princess." your wife teased, ducking down and stealing a kiss before you could argue with her.
"well i'm off! might take her for a kick around if she's got loose energy to burn off. bye babe!" leah sung out, practically already halfway out the front door before you could even look up, jumping in shock hearing it slam close after her.
alone in her car leah slumped into her seat, staring blankly ahead and running her hands down her face with a frustrated groan, moving to grab the steering wheel.
"shit!"
~
"-then we learned this one that went HIYA AYA HIYA!" your daughter chanted, punching and kicking at thin air as leah clicked the buckles of her car seat in, just ducking out of the way as little arms and fists began swinging.
"thats really great bubba when we get home you can show me everything, just give me a second to call aunty beth yeah?" leah flashed the girl a smile who shrugged, busying herself practicing her karate as leah shut the door.
"come on come on come on." leah chanted as she clicked call, tapping her foot impatiently as the dial tone rang and rang, right as she was about to hang up and move to her next option finally it clicked through.
"well well miss leah catherine, to what do i owe the ple-" leah didn't even let the poor girl finish before she was jumping in.
"imayhaveforgottentogettheonlypresentmilawantedandifidontgetitbothmydaughterandmywifearegoingtokillmeonchristmasandiamsoabsoloutelyutterlyfucked!" leah rambled out in one breath, beth going silent for a moment.
"come again? in english this time please if you would be so kind." "i may have forgotten to get the only present mila wanted and if i don't get it both my daughter and my wife are going to kill me on christmas and i am so absolutely utterly fucked." leah exhaled shakily, wiggling her fingers at mila through the window who knocked and pulled a face.
"so you've clearly called me to make funeral arrangements then? well i was thinking instead of a euology i could-" "beth come on man! i'm serious here, i need help."
"well that's quite the understatement. but right, whats the plan then captain?"
~
"-baby are you sure you don't need anything?" you asked softly, knelt down by the bed and pushing a few loose hairs out of your wifes face. "nah just some rest babe, i'm so sorry i can't make it." leah croaked out as your lips curled downward into a frown.
"don't be sorry lee, i'm sorry you're feeling so miserable on christmas eve, of course today of all days your migraines come back. " you pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, nails scratching gently at her scalp as your wife sighed.
"get some sleep, i love you." you pecked her lips sweetly before you pushed to stand, hearing little foosteps come thundering down the hall as you did.
"woah! we have speed limits in this household little miss ferrari." you scooped her up before she could launch herself up and onto the bed like you knew she'd planned. "little miss aston martin!" mila frowned and poked at your chest, your wifes little cheeky smile up at you in response having your eyes rolling.
"say bye to mummy but be gentle please mils she's not feeling well. remember?" you set her back down as your daughter nodded. "one for you, one for me and one for your sore head." mila pressed three kisses to leahs cheek who smiled, stretching a hand out to pinch the five year olds cheek fondly.
"thank you bubba, you'll give nanna an extra big kiss for me yeah?" leah warned as mila nodded dutifully, squealing as leahs fingers dug into her side and she grabbed onto your leg hiding behind it.
"get some sleep baby." you chuckled, ducking down to peck her lips again, hearing some enthusiastic gagging sound behind you. "yuck!" your daughter retched as your eyes rolled again. "hey bubba?" leah called out, mila peeking out from where she'd hidden her face behind her hands.
"leah!" you laughed as your wife pulled you in for a sloppy kiss, mila falling to the floor dramatically and covering her face again, pretending to throw up everywhere as you gently smacked your wifes shoulder and she winked.
"come on trouble, lets go let you loose on that poor nursing home."
leah waited patiently in bed until she'd heard the front door shut, and then heard the car engine start, then till she heard it back out of the driveway, and then another five minutes just to be sure.
the two sharp honks in the driveway was all she needed, leaping out of bed already dressed and ready to go, grabbing a beanie and some sunglasses on the way and wrestling on her shoes as she hopped to the front door.
"stop honking you idiot my neighbours!" leah hissed as she hurried down the front steps, beth honking her hello and rolling her eyes at the way the blonde yanked the beanie down her head as if it would disguise her somewhat when she'd come flying out of her own house.
"good mornin to you 007! where we goin first then?" "tommys toy world, and step on it!"
~
"leah man how many more places are we going to be laughed out of? get the kid a samari sword and call it a day, she's into her karate now ain't she?" beth groaned, leah huffing impatiently and taking her hand, yanking her down the travelator mumbling apologies so everyone she pushed past on the way.
"i can't beth! i said i bought it months ago and-" "-and you'll be in the doghouse until next christmas. yeah yeah yeah, need i remind you got yourself into this mess leah? i told you ya memorys bad!" "yes beth i am well aware whose fault this is, which is why i need to get myself out of this mess! for the sake of my child and my marriage!" leah huffed, only letting go of the younger girls hand the moment they stepped into the toy store.
"sorry." beth apologised quickly to an older gentlemen who leah had nearly bowled over in her haste, the man grumbling about basic manners going missing this time of year as he walked off.
this store the ninth one they'd trekked to already this morning beth was well aware of the drill, rolling her eyes and trudging after leah who wasted no time sprinting off to wherever the barbies and accessories were kept.
she grabbed some toys for myle along the way, stopping for a second too long to admire a lego set before a hand grabbed the back of her jumper and violently yanked her away.
"don't you manhandle me williamson!" beth scoffed smacking her friends hands away but hurrying after her none the less. "oh for fuck sakes come on there's gotta be one fucking dream house left in london!" leah swore, eyes scanning the aisle which was assaulting bright pink and made beth wince at the sight.
"so sorry." beth apologised again but this time to to the horrified looking mother dragging away her toddler whose ears were firmly covered, beth sending a weak wave the girls way before she dissapeared.
"can i help you?" a worker appeared seemingly out of nowhere, concern ingrained into his features as leah grunted and grumbled to herself, riffling through the shelves as beth hurried to put back what she took off.
"god i bloody hope so mate." leah groaned, dragging her hands down her face with a stressed exhale as the worker chuckled. "last minute shopping huh?" the man chuckled as beth snickered. "you have no idea." earning her an elbow and a glare from leah.
"what are you after? we did just get a last minute pallet that hasn't been unloaded yet so i can check if its out back, we're about to restock the shelves since we're open until nine tonight for people like yourself." the man smiled kindly as leah perked up and beth snickered again in amusement, her shopping done weeks ago.
"barbie dreamhouse." leah hurried out, the man nodding and punching something into the little black box in his hand. "we have the malibu playhouse, the 60th anniversary edition, kens mojo dojo casa house-" the man read out as leah shook her head.
"no no, the deluxe dreamhouse. with the swingsets and the slide and the pool and-" leah couldn't even finish before it happened, the same response she'd gotten at every single store so far today and then some.
"that? you're looking on christmas eve for that? do you know how many have been sold country wide in the last week let alone the last month? its the toy of the year! not to mention sales have skyrocketed since-" the man laughed as leahs face fell, then very quickly distorted into a scowl.
"yeah brilliant. do you have it or not?" leah interrupted, crossing her arms as the man gave her an incredulous look. "of course not! its been sold out for weeks UK wide, you don't read the news?" the man laughed in disbelief, though his question fell on deaf ears as leah turned heel and stormed off again.
as much as beth tried the stony faced blonde didn't say another word until they were both back in the car. "fuck!" leah swore, smacking her hands against the dashboard and making her friend jump.
"oi! respect the vehicle. its not her fault you left all of this to the last minute!" beth warned, sticking her key in the ignition as leah ignored her and pulled out her phone, exhaling with a small amount of relief as she checked your location and could see you still weren't home.
"right. where to next?" beth sighed deeply, leah slumping back in her seat. "that was the last one." the blonde responded bluntly, beth wincing and whistling quietly under her breath.
"call it a day and head home then? i'll drive slow so you can practice your grovelling and begging for forgiveness." beth shrugged, grinning as leah shot her a dry unimpressed look.
"no, not home." "leah then where-" "it's time to pull out the big guns." "call your wife, explain what happened and take her anger on the chin?"
at that leah scrunched up her face with disgust. "god no." leah shook her head, leaning forward and punching in the address as beth watched on curiously, a puff of amused air leaving her lips as she recognized it right away.
"i've got no choice beth. i've gotta call in the godmother."
~
"-so you lied." alessia cocked an eyebrow, sipping at her tea as leah exhaled heavily. "not lied but-" she fell quiet at the fiercely withering look sent her way by the younger blonde across from her.
"okay yes. i forgot and i lied and i am so so so unbelievably screwed less." leah whined, her own cup of tea left empty on the coffee table as the defender slumped down into the couch burying her face in her hands.
"yes, yes you are." alessia agreed with a nod, leah peeking out with narrowed eyes. "i came here for advice! not for you to agree with me for once." leah mumbed moodily as the striker smiled, sculling her last mouthful of tea with a hum.
"i have a feeling things are about to look up for you lee." was all the girl said, squeezing her knee as she stood, grabbed their empty mugs and headed back to the kitchen.
"how!" leah called after her with confusion, attention grabbed by the sounds of a key in the door, eyes widening at the familiar little thump of feet which followed.
"aunty lessi!" mila squealed, ignoring your shouts after her to take her shoes, coat and scarf off as the five year old came barreling into the kitchen. "hello little marshmallow." alessia grinned, scooping up the small girl and kissing over her face making her giggle.
"i'm puffy!" mila smacked her coat covered chest as you arrived and rolled your eyes with a smile, alessia sitting your daughter down on the counter and helping her to shrug off her many layers as she babbled on and on and on about their day.
"shit! shit shit shit shit." leah whispered in a panic, crouching down and trying to peek over the top of the couch as her mind scrambled to try and think of an escape plan, groaning quietly as she realised that came to a screaming halt when she didn't have a car, beth dropping her off and leaving.
"hi babe." leah sprang up like she'd sat on an electrical wire, coming thumping back to the ground with a grunt, staring up horrified at your scarily calm smile which looked down at her.
"um i can explain! it is not what it looks like." leah tried, running a hand through her hair and stumbling over herself to think of a valid excuse. "save it leah, i knew you'd be here eventually. granted maybe not just yet, you hit the stores faster than i thought!" you shrugged honestly, rounding the couch as leahs mouth formed an o and she pulled herself to stand.
"sorry. pause, rewind, repeat. come again?" leah asked slowly, sure she'd heard wrong as you chuckled. "please. leah baby we've been together for years, you think i can't tell when you're lying? faking sick? my love you are a terrible actor." you laughed with a shake of your head.
"forgive me, i'm a little lost here." was all your wife managed to get out, the two of you glancing over your shoulder at a thump and the sound of laughter, alessia stood with mila sat on her shoulders, making the girl with a pit of a stomach a sandwich.
"hi mummy, mama and i missed you!" mila noticed, waving furiously at leah from the other room who cautiously raised a hand and waved back, alessia sending her a wink and recapturing mila's attention as you clicked your fingers to gain hers.
"come with me williamson." you patted her chest with a wink, nodding for her to follow you as you took off down the hall, leah following you slowly, feeling a little as though she was walking to her own funeral.
the older girl hung in the doorway, watching as you rummaged through the wardrobe in alessia's spare bedroom, which judging by the arsenal sheets and toys strung about anywhere was basically your daughters room, mila loving her 'big girl' sleepovers with her aunties, alessia most of all being her godmother and your closest friend.
"close the door please." you spoke with your back still to her, leah hesitantly stepping inside and doing so. "sit on the bed." you asked next, leah still highly suspicious but also quite scared to say no wasting no time following your instructions.
"eyes closed."
"if you're going to kill me i'd rather see it coming darling." leah sighed making you snort out in laughter, shooting her a look over your shoulder as your wife sighed but closed her eyes none the less.
she flinched a little feeling something touch her hands, making your eyes roll as you assured it wasn't a weapon. "open." you smiled, half the package in her grip as the other remained in yours.
it was rare the outspoken defender was speechless, however clearly the sight of the toy she'd just spent the last six hours hunting for in perfect mint condition, sat in her hands, had rendered her tongue and words void.
"but-but-but-" she eventually stammered out as you merely smirked and nodded. "yes, yes, yes." you countered, tugging it out of her hands and setting it carefully down on the floor, leah immediately sliding off the bed and dropping to her knees.
"the barbie deluxe dreamhouse. with the fridge, the swing sets, the slide, the pool, the-" "yep, everything, all the bells and whistles." you took her seat on the edge of the bed, leah giving you an incredulous look. "but how did you even..." she trailed off, eyebrows scrunched together in pure utter confusion.
"please. leah did you really think i wouldn't have everything organised?" you scoffed quirking an eyebrow as leahs mouth opened and closed and she shook her head back and forth.
"so you knew-" "that you were lying? yes." "and you already-" "bought it weeks ago? absolutely." "but then you-" "sent you on an impossible wild goose chase around london for something i knew you wouldn't find and i already had? i most certainly did." you confirmed with a confident nod as leah seemed to crumple into a heap.
"i'd encourage you choose your next words very very carefully my love, especially if you'd like to have a merry christmas." your tone sharpened as a scowl set into your wifes features, wiped away as soon as it appeared.
"oh leah, get off me!" you huffed as within seconds she'd pounced, pinning you to the bed and kissing all over your face mumbling her thank you's. "i'm still mad at you! you lied to me, and i gave you the chance to be honest." you warned, leah stopping with lips puckered hovering just over yours, wincing and sitting up.
"oh really leah!" you groaned as again she flopped down on top of you, now mumbling how sorry she was as again her lips rained down kisses on every inch of your skin she could reach.
"get off me you dickhead and put the dreamhouse away before mila see's it!" you warned with a roll of your eyes, pushing her off of you as the blonde hurried to do just that, slotting it back on top of the cupboard where it was well out of sight or reach of your overtly inquisitive five year old.
"i really am sorry. so so so so so sorry my girl!" leah winced as she stood in between your legs where you'd sat up. "oh you will be. you're on clean up duty, today, tomorrow, tonight, boxing day, new years eve, new years day-" you rattled off, words swallowed by your wife leaning down and pressing her mouth against yours.
"done. i love you." leah pulled away and promised, shuffling back a little to allow you to stand up as you hummed. "i love you too, even if you are hopelessly disorganized." you sighed with a small smile.
"well thats why i married you." "don't push it williamson." you warned as she grinned, stealing another kiss as a crash was heard and both of you looked to the closed door.
"we should probably go sort that out." leah sighed, starting to head for the door as you tugged her back, hand slipping up her hoodie and fingers playing with the waistband of her jeans.
"let less tire her out for a bit baby, the earlier she crashes tonight after some movies and the cookies you'll sneak her when you both think i'm not looking, the better." you smiled as leah chuckled, unable to argue the fact.
"more time to play santa." leah agreed with a wink, pecking your lips and tensing a little as your fingers poked into her abs and you leaned up to speak into her ear a little more.
"mm and once the presents are sorted, i'd quite like to sit in santas lap, maybe give her sleigh a ride if she's earned it." you whispered, leah jolting as your hand smacked against her ass and with a cheeky grin you were sauntering off leaving the door open after you and your wifes cheeks flushed red.
"dear god i love christmas."
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crheativity · 5 months ago
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Mc/Yuu that when given genuine affection from their friends such as a small gift or just being told that they enjoy being around them, they just get really quiet and look at their friend with shock and disbelief, tearing up a little bit and just going "...oh..." in a real small voice.
Bonus points if they're not usually emotional like this.
It would be fun if it was the overblot gang since they just got some gifts themselves, or maybe ADeuce duo...idk man, I just want some wholesome friendship, I feel like there aren't enough fics like that in this fandom-
WARNINGS: Can be read as platonic or romantic, some of these might be longer/shorter than others, all of them care about you but (almost) all of them are bad with Emotions. also there are slight references to book 6 in Idia’s section if you squint
COMMENTS: AWH this is such a cute idea! And yes, there should definitely be more wholesome, platonic fics! Also, sorry these are short D:
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Wait, crap, you’re tearing up? He just got you a present- are you okay?? He’s low key worried about you, unsure if this is just you being extremely excited about his (amazing) gift or if there’s something else going on. Either way, he’s quick to figure it out and reassure you as best he can. He’s torn between feeling bad about making you cry and being happy you liked his present so much. Either way, he pulls you into a hug and rubs patterns into your back until you feel better.
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You’re crying?! Ohhhh crap oh crap oh crap- he doesn’t know what to do! Was his present that bad-? Once you reassure him and tell him you love it, he relaxes a little bit but is still clearly distressed. He isn’t very good at figuring out why you’re reacting this way, but his genuine care for you shines through and helps you feel a little more comfortable in his own way.
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Wh-what?? Did he do something wrong-? He did a bunch of research, so he had assumed that this gift would be something you’d appreciate, not tear up over! Riddle is. Confused. And scared. He’s new to this whole “having friends” thing, and he thinks very highly of you, so the thought of messing up is pretty scary. He’s at quite a loss of what to do. When you reassure him and tell him you’re okay, he’s very relieved. He makes a note of how much you appreciated the gift and is determined to do more for you. If he has to get used to having friends, he wants you to get used to receiving the affection you deserve, too.
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Awh, come on. You’re seriously tearing up over this? He ruffles your hair affectionately, giving you space to process your emotions while staying nearby. He doesn’t quite get what all the fuss is about - all he knows is he got you something and then you “exploded into tears” (you did not, he’s exaggerating). He sits with you until you feel better and tries to think of ways he could give you stuff without you “freaking out” like this. Maybe some money left in your pockets would be a good idea…
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As soon as you tear up, he wants to go hide in his octo-pot. He knew it, it was a stupid idea. He should’ve gone with the other present idea, maybe then you’d be less disappointed. If you even still want to be friends with him after this. The moment you explain that you’re really happy, however, his mood does a complete 180, attempting to both comfort you and gloat a little at the same time. He would pat you a little awkwardly on the shoulder, wanting to express he appreciated your vulnerability. He’s definitely making notes on things he could spoil you with.
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He freezes. Dang, he thought it was something you’d like. If not, that’s okay, he did keep the receipt. You can take it back to the store and get a refund if you’d- oh? You liked it? He’s another one that would try to comfort you and feel smug at the same time. The thought of making anyone but particularly you so happy is a little jarring to him, and your way of expressing emotions is definitely unexpected, but he’s glad he got you this. Maybe he’ll get you something better next time.
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For once, Vil is speechless. For a moment he just kinda stands there in surprise, before sweeping you into his arms for a hug - completely ignoring how his clothes might crinkle. He didn’t think you would react that way, and - although he’s pretty sure you’re happy - he wants to comfort you anyway. Once you confirm you’re actually happy, he thinks your reaction is sweet and endearing and pure. He’s definitely buying you more things if this is your reaction to it,
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The moment you say “oh” and start to tear up he’s internally going say sike rn. Bro was not prepared for Emotions. He can hardly handle his own feelings, why’d fate dump him with someone else’s?! Especially since they belong to someone he cares about. He’s not real good with other people, let alone taking care of them. He wishes Ortho was here - he could google Top 10 Ways To Comfort A Friend Who Randomly Starts Crying. Idia kinda just ends up patting your entire head awkwardly and saying “there there” through his tablet. He knows it’s pathetic, okay?
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He’s utterly confused. He followed the Human Customs of buying a gift for someone you care about, why are you displaying a negative reaction? Was the gift not satisfactory? Lilia said this would be enough, although perhaps he should’ve gone with his original plan and bought you significantly more. Were you perhaps disappointed? Once you reassure him, he almost laughs. He thinks your reaction was very cute, he will be buying you significantly more things. Prepare yourself.
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♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
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earthtooz · 5 months ago
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jealous ratio because i really like him like that, fluff, reader is a menace
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“who gave you those flowers?” 
ratio’s voice is demanding and snarky, eyes ablaze with a similar kind of disgust when you walk into your home with a bouquet in your arms. putting your keys on the counter, you greet him with your usual smile and prance over to place a kiss on his scowling expression.
which softens momentarily at the feel of your lips on his skin.
“hi, veritas,” you greet.
“welcome home, love,” he murmurs in return, smiling when looking at you, but the scowl returns when he makes eye contact with the flowers. “who gave you these?”
“aventurine did.”
the world freezes over with ratio’s silent rage and you’re the only one untouched despite being the catalyst. searching for a vase nearby, you’re more than content to let his possessiveness simmer, in fact, it’s something you are used to now.
when you manage to dig up an empty vase from a cabinet nearby, ratio’s footsteps scurry towards you.
“you’re keeping them?” he asks.
“why wouldn’t i? they’re a gift.”
“a gift? 
he’s fuming, absolutely fuming now as he watches you fret over the bouquet, trimming the ends, putting water in the bot, arranging them to look nice and lovely, all whilst your lover stared at you hawkishly. you pretend not to notice the way his eye twitches occasionally, allowing him to watch you work.
his mind must be working at a million thoughts per second, so you’ll just let him be until he can talk to you again.
“why did he give you flowers? there must be an occasion that i am unaware of.”
after finishing your final touches, you turn around with all the garbage in your hands and walk past the scholar. he follows. “to say thanks. he recently consulted me for one of his projects and the results were fruitful, so he bought me a bouquet in gratitude.” 
pink roses. last time ratio read, they were supposed to symbolise gratitude, the ideal choice to send to someone who has helped you. 
“well. if that’s the case then he owes me a planet’s worth of flowers.”
“lighten up, veritas, he was just being friendly.”
“friendly?” he all but snaps. 
“yes, friendly. is there an issue with that?” 
“that gambler being friendly implies to him being up to no good.” he attaches himself to your hip, hovering over you as you make a mug of coffee. “he is a menace, an undesirable anomaly, a type one error, i advise you keep your interactions with him limited. only one of us should need to deal with his antics so i suppose i’ll have to bite the bullet on this one, darling.”
“you are so brave, my hero. are you done? anymore talk about aventurine and i might just think you’re in love with him.” ratio splutters at your wild accusations, missing the way you smile under your breath. then, you throw your arms around the scholar and he doesn’t return the embrace, still dumbfounded. “i missed you and the first thing you do when i come home is talk about another man.”
he scoffs, lifting you up onto the kitchen counter. there, he rests his hands on either sides of the counter beside you. “your mouth is twice as foul as his.”
“and yet you still love me.”
“marginally.”
“you!”
tomorrow, you return home to a luxurious bouquet of red roses sitting on the kitchen island.
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i'm writing this as a pregame to the diluc fic i have in the works.
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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mi55delulu · 17 days ago
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movie goers
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pairing: jungkook x fem reader
synopsis: starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.
genre: enemies to friends to lovers (e2f2l)
wc: ~16.4k
cw: not so cute meet, slice of life, slight angst, fluff, mature language, mean jk and mean oc — they get better though, cheating (not main characters), fwb (not main characters), mutual pining, oc is lowkey a hopeless romantic, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🛑, smut, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, love love love. if i got any rules/regulations wrong, i didnt. leave me alone, it’s fanfic 😇✨also written in lowercase bc that’s just how my phone setting is and i’m too lazy to go back to capitalize … ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
a/n: yuh … inspired by real life events. anyways, this is the first time i’ve posted a fic on this page. i’ve been an avid reader (still am) but i’ve been wanting to put something out too. so here’s my gift to close out 2024. also, i miss jk. I MISS BANGTAN. ;-; enjoy and lmk your thoughts!
if you had to describe your ideal neighbor in three words, it’d be: mindful, quiet, and kind. cause that’s what your neighbor, mrs. lee, was to you in the last three years you’ve lived in this apartment complex. she kept to herself, walked her small crusty (but cute) senior white dog, and brought you leftover cookies when she baked too much for her grandkids. you always had a feeling she made just the right amount with you in mind, but of course she’d never tell you.
so when she broke the news that she was going to move into her son’s home because they’ve been worried about her living alone, you were happy for her — happy that she’s going to get taken care of, but sad that you’ll be losing a great neighbor.
you tell her whoever moves in after her probably won’t be as good of a baker. she simply laughs and tells you to be nice.
three months pass and you hear footsteps outside your door one afternoon. when you try spying through your peephole to get a glimpse of the commotion, you see boxes stacked on the side of apt# 305.
finally, someone was moving in.
some of the boxes were spilling onto your welcome mat, but that didn’t really bother you. you were more curious about your new neighbor … er, perhaps neighbors. so any clue on whether it was going to be an individual or a family moving in would give you an idea of who you’ll be living next to.
unfortunately for you, all the boxes were neatly sealed off.
“dang it.” you mutter to yourself while squinting at the labels on the boxes. clothes, kitchen, shoes … workout? well, okay no indication of toys so you can safely assume there aren’t any kids … yet.
you look at your clock, it’s about time you head out to get your mail anyways. maybe you’ll bump into your new neighbor(s).
except, it wasn’t as easy to spot who exactly was going to be moving in with all the different movers. you sigh and sift through your mail as you walk up the stairs to your apartment. most of the boxes that were outside had already been moved inside the apartment by the time you returned from the mailroom.
as curious as you were of who your new neighbor could be, you had better things to do … like binge watch your kdramas before your shift starts. maybe if you’re feeling extra nice … you’ll say hi later. no one wants to start off on a bad foot with their neighbor. you fumble around your pockets for your keys and eventually hear your locks click open when you’ve successfully unlocked your door.
“hey, neighbor.”
you turn. now, in all your 28 glorious years of living, you can easily count the times you’ve been starstruck on one hand. seeing the northern lights by accident on your way home in 2024, meeting your favorite youtuber at a late night diner when you were 15 years old, and being noticed by one of the highest ranked players in maplestory’s world chat.
the person in front of you? a sight to behold. tall, killer smile, numerous piercings, and a forearm adorned in tattoos. yeah. you don’t think starstruck would fit for this occurrence, but what you do know is that they’ve gotten you tongue tied.
“welcome!” you blurt out and give a tight-lipped smile before barreling through your entryway. you don’t give yourself another second to study his expression once the door shuts behind you. were you lame to run away from your new neighbor? sure. will you regret this? well, the cringe is already seeping in. you’re probably branded as the weird girl now … whatever.
what’s done is done.
you don’t know if 305 is mindful, quiet, or kind.
but fuck, he’s hot.
305 was not quiet.
you know it’s a housewarming party with a couple of his friends. he didn’t have to tell you … you heard them loud and clear through the walls several times as they clinked their shot glasses for the 11th time that evening.
you’re texting your frustrations to dohwan, your boyfriend (?) er … someone you’ve been talking to (and fucking) these last 2 years. he hasn’t quite put a label on the relationship just yet and claimed that he is only seeing you. labels didn’t really matter to you but as time grew, you’ve come to like him a lot and wished for something more. he’s career-driven, great in bed, and knows how to whip up a good breakfast the morning after he stays for the night. he was supposed to come over tonight, but told you he got caught up with work. it’s times like these where you feel a level of uncertainty with dohwan. you spiral and don’t feel as secure as you want to be.
you shouldn’t feel hurt or disappointed … but you do, because hell, alright … maybe you didn’t just like him.
you love him.
you’re not embarrassed that you told him 9 months into seeing each other. has he said it back? no, but that’s okay! everyone has a different timeline when it comes to feelings. you could only hope he meets yours soon enough. why else would he stay for this long?
back to the situation at hand.
you’re not an irritable person, but the least 305 could’ve done was given you a heads up that he was going to have a celebration. you would’ve asked to stay over at dohwan’s in that case.
another round of laughter erupts through your walls and you grit your teeth in annoyance.
“fuckin’ hell,” you throw the covers off your body and march out of your apartment. you find yourself glaring at 305’s door — a juxtaposition from how you usually looked when mrs. lee used to reside here.
god, you missed her.
you knock on the door a few times, taking note how the chattering from the inside decreases and some footsteps grow close to the door.
again, you almost want to want to run back to your apartment when you’re face to face with 305’s handsome confused face.
realizing it’s you, 305 smiles, “oh, hey—“
“it’s nearly 12 a.m. do you mind?” you cut him off.
his smile drops and he leans one shoulder on his doorway.
“sorry,” he says, “we’ll wrap up soon.”
you’d usually drop something this trivial by now, but you’re in a foul mood. unfortunately for 305, this is will be his official first impression of you.
“how much longer is ‘soon?’ it’s been like this for 4 hours,” you really don’t mean for it to come out that way, but the damage is done.
little did you know, 305 wasn’t going to backdown either. he may be new to this complex, but he’s not privy to obnoxious neighbors. the only difference is that he thought you were going to be quiet and shy, much like the first meeting.
“don’t know.” he shrugs.
“i really don’t want to involve property management.” you cross your arms. it’s a half threat — you’ve never called because you never needed to … but you’ll flip through your 50 page rental agreement if you have to.
he mirrors your stance and looks out to your apartment’s door.
“well, sorry to burst your bubble, 307.” he says and you see red, “but management is aware of my get together. it’s not my fault they didn’t inform the other residents.”
“asshole.” you mutter under your breath.
he smiles again, a little less friendly and more condescending this time, “we’ll finish soon, 307. good night.” he shuts his door on you before you can formulate a sentence and you’re left outside in the dark.
“yo, jungkook … were we being too loud?” hoseok asks while popping a handful of m&m’s into his mouth.
“yeah, cause your laugh can be heard from all throughout korea,” jimin mocks, earning him a shove from hoseok.
“nah, don’t worry about it. just my neighbor saying hi.” jungkook plops down on the sofa with the rest of his friends.
“oh? should’ve invited them in. we have enough pizza to feed a village.” taehyung nudges his side.
jungkook laughs and shakes his head, “just scale down on the volume and we’ll be golden.”
jungkook loves good company, having lived with his friends for most of his college years, he was a bit reluctant to move out. it’s a little bittersweet, but all his friends are happy for him and his new journey in adulthood. he won’t have to deal with messy roommates and random guests … vice versa. as fun as it was to live in a house full of your best friends, at the end of the day, men will be men. gross, loud, and obnoxious.
not jungkook though, so he thinks.
“ha! called it,” jimin snorts, “you were being too loud, hyung.” this earns jimin a punch to the arm and hoseok’s booming laugh when jimin dramatically falls off the chair.
jungkook knew it was useless to request this of his friends, so he took it upon himself to give the property manager a heads up. lucky for him, the lady seemed more than happy to accommodate. she even left her business card with him after he signed the lease … something about calling her if there’s ever an issue with the apartment — any time of the day.
weird.
what’s weirder was his neighbor. from running away during the first meeting to demanding he end his housewarming on the spot. okay, to be fair, you didn’t, but you might as well have. it didn’t help that jungkook was hotheaded and gets a little irrational when something involved his friends.
so what if he thought you were pretty in your black pajama set? you called his friends loud, when in honesty, they could’ve been much worse. seriously. he knows jimin’s taunting held some truth. hoseok has been responsible for some noise complaints in the past. so this was considered manageable. plus, it’s not like he’ll be inviting them over every weekend.
but if it meant pissing you off, he might consider it.
alright, he wasn’t that cruel and he definitely doesn’t want to make living next to you unbearable. he’ll apologize first thing in the morning tomorrow, but for now, he just wants to enjoy his time with his best friends.
jungkook was going to murder you.
not literally, but he could if it wasn’t for the major hangover holding him back. he blinks twice, looks at the clock on his nightstand, reads 7:01am, and lets out a big sigh after another round of drilling vibrates against his wall.
fuckin’ hell.
it feels comical now that he’s in front of your apartment, face still swollen from sleep, but so visibly upset at being woken up at the ass crack of dawn.
“are you serious?” he asks, voice still laced with heavy sleep.
you, on the other hand, look put together and almost too happy this early in the day. jungkook can only rule you out as a psychopath — a pretty psychopath. your hair all in place, lashes kissing your cheeks when you smile at him, and not a single wrinkle on your clothing in sight.
“what’s up,” you peer outside your door just as he did last night, “305?”
he wants to let out a groan, but that’d give you too much power.
“drilling at 7 in the morning? that’s gotta be a violation.” his voice still laced with sleep, though, he’s sure to sound assertive.
“nope! here,” you smile and pull out your phone, the level of brightness makes jungkook squint, “county regulations allow work as early as 6:30am.”
“yeah, if there’s justification. there’s no reason for you to be drilling this early.” jungkook argues back.
you pout, evidently not sad at that revelation, “but my mental health. i was kept up all night by my neighbor and his friends … i need some wall decor to cheer me up. surely you could sympathize, right?”
you don’t allow him to formulate another thought as you’re shutting the door, “i’ll be done soon, have a good day!”
jungkook almost wants to laugh at how irritated he is, but all he can do now is try to get some shut eye before his shift starts. that is, if he can even go back to sleep.
should’ve asked his friends for some earplugs as a housewarming gift.
the drilling eventually came to a stop. only because you could not be bothered to wake up earlier than you had to and you think you made your point pretty clear to your neighbor — don’t fuck with me.
honestly, you’re not sure what came over you. you never liked causing issues for people and you’re also well liked by your work peers and friends, so this was out of character of you. it also didn’t help that your friends spurred you on and praised you for one upping him. as the rage dissipated from your system, you’ve come to the conclusion of why you acted out.
your new neighbor was a conventionally attractive man. he probably knows this too judging from the way he spoke to you — like you’d back down just because he said so. he probably was able to schmooze the lease manager into giving him a better rent deal and get pardoned for all the noise he made during his housewarming party. sucks for him; you’re not a fan of pretty privilege.
you had to set him straight, so drilling into a random piece of wood every morning right near his bedroom wall was the perfect revenge. you expected some backlash from him; surprisingly, he didn’t say a word to you after his first confrontation. so, you stopped the antics after the third day.
weeks later, you learned his name is jeon jungkook. not through a formal introduction … only because his mail got mixed in with yours and you tossed it onto his welcome mat. he eventually came to realize your name through the same way too.
though, he’ll always be 305 to you and you’ll always be 307 to him.
that’s fine.
you’ll scowl every time you see him and he’ll stick a middle finger up to you as well.
the feeling was mutual.
“so, are you still battling it out with your new neighbor?” dohwan asks one evening. his head was actually between your legs at the moment. you like having random conversations during sex, but talking about your annoying neighbor wasn’t on the top of your list.
“mm, yeah,” you moan lowly when he flicks his tongue on your clit. “well n-no, not anymore.” you correct yourself, “oh fuck, keep going.”
“good, i’m tired of hearing about him,” he chuckles against you and continues his ministrations between your folds. if you were caught off guard by his comment, you weren’t anymore. the pleasure coursing through your body is enough to make your head spin.
he moves away from your body once you’ve come by his mouth. without warning, he slips inside you and you hiss from the overstimulation, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.
“gonna fuck you so well.”he’s thrusting relentlessly, “it’s what you need, huh princess?”
you nod, too overcome by the power of his thrusts hitting all the right spots. dohwan is a little more vocal tonight — it makes you feel special but you’re also a little self conscious about your nextdoor neighbor hearing things. you’ve always kept it down even when mrs. lee lived next door, jungkook would be no exception.
people fuck, it doesn’t mean you can’t be courteous. you sure as hell don’t want to hear your neighbor fucking given that you’ve seen him bring back several different girls to the apartment these couple of weeks.
one thing you’ll commend jungkook for is not being a loud fucker in the bed.
“baby,” you whine as he pauses a little to listen to what you have to say, “we should keep it down.”
he tilts his head, reaches in between your bodies and circles slowly on your clit with his thumb while he resumes rocking into you. you keen and almost let out a moan.
“why? let the asshole hear.” he grunts when he picks up the pace again. dohwan kisses down your neck and leaves a red hickey on your collarbone. you let out a pretty sigh and wrap your legs around his waist.
“y-you,” he moans particularly louder and it throws you off slightly, “saw the way he looked at me today, right?”
you didn’t, but you definitely saw the way dohwan glared at jungkook and tightened his hold on your waist before entering your apartment. meanwhile jungkook had just come back from his evening run — at least that’s what you assumed since he was wiping away his sweaty hair from his flushed face coming up the stairs.
“baby, are you really going to talk to me about another man while we’re fucking?” you laugh and cup his face in your hands. he huffs in frustration but his eyes soften, it’s opposite to the brutal pace he’s set on your pussy.
“sorry,” he continues fucking into you and the room is filled with wet noises and his panting once again. even though he apologized, he does nothing to lower his volume.
knock-knock. the sound definitely did not come from the frontdoor, it was far too close to hear.
another series of knocks come and you realize it’s your bedroom wall. dohwan pays no attention to those sounds and is far into chasing his own high, but you move your hands over his mouth to muffle his grunts.
jeon jungkook is knocking on your wall.
he knows you’re having sex and you’ve become that obnoxious neighbor. if that wasn’t enough of an instant mood killer, you hear him blasting one of akon’s featured hits “i just had sex” to mock you and dohwan.
yeah, sexy time is over. you push dohwan off you and head into the bathroom to nurse your embarrassment.
shortly that night, dohwan leaves and it’s the first time you’ve gotten into an argument with him where you think he’s in the wrong.
people find it daunting to go to the movies alone. you’d agree until you were forced to go alone after no one wanted to go watch twilight with you in high school. it was awkward at first, but once the light dimmed and the movie started, no one cared about their surroundings.
that’s why you liked going alone. no one will pay attention to how alone you were. everyone in there will be focused on the big screen in front — you included. there was always something liberating about doing things alone too. ‘like yeah, stick it … i don’t need anyone.’ kind of energy.
the only thing you wished was to have someone to discourse with after the movie ended. it’s not a dealbreaker though. you could have easily asked dohwan to come with you, but you’ve been ignoring him since last week after the loud sex fiasco.
regardless, you’re watching moana 2 today. you’re sure it’s going to be a full house given that it’s the opening week. you can only pray that you won’t be surrounded by snotty (literally) kids. nonetheless, you’re excited and the theater was getting filled up as more movie goers come in during the preview. your row was nearly full, saved for the single empty seats on your left and right side.
score, no seat partners or snotty kids. you’ve won this time around.
you’re texting your friends and telling them your luck—
“ahem.”
you look up and you see two people standing in front of you. you’re sure it’s for the seats on your left and right side cause you double checked your ticket before sitting down and everyone else in your row has been seated for quite some time.
“can you move?” one person asks. weirdly enough, the voice is familiar.
even though the lights are low in the theater, you can see that it’s a man and a woman. and when you squint a little more at their figure, that’s when something catches your eyes. a tiger lily tattoo, the same one that your neighbor has.
no fucking way.
“hello?? can you move?” he asks again a little more aggressively. there’s no way he can’t recognize it’s you being that the movie screen is bright enough to shine a light on you. doesn’t matter. you weren’t going to move before and you definitely aren’t going to move now. hell, you’ve been asked plenty of times to move by both families and couples in the past — the difference was that they asked nicely. some were generous enough to offer you snacks when you did move for them.
jungkook? nah. no thank you. you’ll stay right where you are.
“nope.” you hold out your ticket to show your seat number and refocus back on the previews playing.
the girl behind him grabs his arm and gently asks him what seat numbers he got.
“k11 and 13.” he mumbles.
yeah, cause you had bought k12.
“oh, um, it’s okay! we wouldn’t even be talking during the movies anyways,” she reassures with a kind smile. “let’s sit so that we’re not blocking anyone?”
jungkook gives her a tight lipped smile and plops down on k11 while the girl takes k13.
“you’re fucking annoying for that.” he says only loud enough for you to hear. he’s angrily eating his popcorn and it makes you want to laugh mockingly. he’s dressed in all black with a silver chain dangling loosely around his neck. his hair is neatly styled and he smells nice. perfect for a first date … minus you being the factor to ruin it.
“i’m not the one that booked shit last minute. do better.” you shrug.
the previews are still playing and you look over at the girl. she’s so pretty and probably too sweet for jungkook’s good based on how she handled the seating situation.
you feel a little guilty, but that feeling leaves you the moment jungkook hands over the popcorn to the girl, spilling a couple on your lap. you glare, he smirks, and the girl unknowingly takes the bucket from him.
well, two can play that game.
“your nails are so cute, where’d you get them done?” you ask.
she beams and shows you her set, “a little shop called banger nails down myeong-dong! they’re great.”
“oh, your nails are so pretty though. where do you get it done?”
truth be told, you haven’t had your nails filled in over 3 weeks … you know they look rough, but you assume she’s just trying to maintain a conversation being that her actual date was a seat away.
you tell her your shop and she tells you she’ll definitely try out that location when she has the chance. she offers you some popcorn and you unashamedly take some, making sure jungkook sees.
he clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes, but makes no move to turn to your direction.
“oh, how rude of me. what’s your name?” you reach out to shake her hands.
“nayeon,” she answers and takes your hand in hers, “you?”
you tell her your name and she nods with a sweet smile. yeah, she’s definitely too good for jungkook.
the movie starts and you’re whispering commentaries and giggling with nayeon. you both held hands during the intense scenes and teared up at the ending. it felt really nice to connect with someone like this right off the bat. she was kind and funny throughout the entirety of the movie too.
you can’t say the same for jungkook. he had his arms crossed with a deep frown stamped on his face for two whole hours.
when the movie credit rolls, jungkook stands up and holds out his hand to help nayeon up. huh, chivalry isn’t dead you suppose. nayeon stands up and waves at you.
“it was so nice meeting you! we should definitely hang out. here, let’s follow each other on instagram!” she fumbles through her purse for her phone and you notice how jungkook closes his eyes in frustration behind her.
you and nayeon exchange contacts and as you’re reclining your seat upright, you hear jungkook ask her, “would you wanna get some froyo? my treat for messing up on the tickets.”
“aw, it all worked out though! i met a new friend,” she gestures over to you. jungkook doesn’t really acknowledge nor claim he has already met you.
why would he?
“i’m glad,” he replies, “still though, i feel bad that we didn’t really hang out. still up for that sweet treat?”
nayeon nods and looks back at you, “would you like to join us?”
unbeknownst to nayeon, jungkook looks at you in desperation this time and shakes his head pleadingly. you think you’ve tortured him enough this evening and you don’t want to subject yourself to hanging out with jungkook. seeing the couple link hands in front of you, you’re sorta missing dohwan a little now … so you’ll reach out to him and see what he’s doing.
“no, it’s okay. you both should enjoy that sweet treat together. i’ll text you on instagram!” you wave and jungkook lets out a breath of relief.
“let’s go?” now, what shocks you is his soft smile towards nayeon. it’s almost a 180 to the attitude you’ve experienced with him. then again, maybe it takes a special kind of person to bring that side out of you. nayeon can definitely do that.
she waves at you again and this time jungkook also waves at you (begrudgingly) too. it’s not a goodbye, but a ‘see you later … unfortunately.’ type of wave.
you come back from dohwan’s place a little after midnight.
nothing special happened, just hung out like normally. he didn’t bring up the argument and you didn’t feel like talking about jungkook either. this was a regular occurrence in your relationship with him. fights were always difficult, but the mend was easy … cause you guys tend to just sweep the issue under the rug.
clean slate.
“jesus christ!” you jump at the sight of a tall dark figure when you reach the top of your floor. your hand flies to your chest to hold down your hammering heart.
“relax, 307. just me.” jungkook says.
“scared the shit out of me.” you murmur to yourself. you proceed to open your door just as jungkook gets his keys out too.
“fitting for a piece of shit like yourself.”
“excuse me?” you raise your brows in question.
“you heard me,” he steps back out from his door, “loud for no reason, fuck like you’re the only one in the complex, and don’t even have the decency to move a seat over. it’s no wonder the previous resident moved away.”
you really want to argue back, but he read you for filth. you really have been an asshole, still, the comment about mrs. lee hurt. you’re not what jungkook makes you to be, but you’ve given him every reason to perceive you in this manner.
“look, i’ll apologize—“
“nah, save it. i’m tired of being nice too. have the night you deserve.” with that, he goes into his apartment and you’re left contemplating how you let things get this bad and awkward with your new neighbor.
there’s no point in trying to talk to your neighbor now. it’s late. you’ll process everything first and try talking to him tomorrow.
the talk never happened.
because for the next 27 days, you’ve been woken up by a blender at 5 a.m. you let that slide for the first 5 days thinking it was jungkook’s way of venting out his frustrations, but by the end of the week, you were back on hating your neighbor.
today marks day 28. you’ve had a long day at work and dohwan has been dodgy with you this week. you call him during lunch to ask him why he’s been so distant and he immediately goes off on you saying that he feels suffocated and that he likes his space. it hurts. because you thought that when you really like someone, all you want to do is fill your day with them.
it’s the evening after your shift and you barely make it up the top of the stairs before you sit down and cry into your hands. it’s so fucking embarrassing crying over a man, especially for one that you really like. majority of the time, he really does make you feel like you’re on top of the world, but then take you down to the pits of hell.
highest of highs, lowest of lows.
it fucking hurts, but you also don’t want to be more alone than how you are.
you hear footsteps come closer and you immediately wipe away your tears and look to the other side of the railing. the person coming up doesn’t stop and walks up past you.
you know them. you know it’s him. you can tell by his cologne and the black converse he fancies.
when you think he’s far enough and in his apartment, you let yourself cry some more.
little did you know, jungkook stands at the top of the stairs, contemplating on whether he should talk to you. he thinks you’re crying because of the blender. or maybe you’re crying because you have to go home to a shitty neighbor. feels bad and guilty. hates to see women cry or anyone cry for that matter …
you hear footsteps from behind and sniffle into your hands.
“uh, 307?”
“what?” your tone is biting but that’s understandable. you’ve been under a lot of stress.
he sighs, sits down right next to you on one of the steps. his legs are long so his knees fan out a little to brush yours. you scoot away and look at him with your bloodshot eyes.
ah, shit. he feels even worse.
“i know i’ve been a dick to you from the start.” he begins.
you scoff and look away.
“you didn’t make things easy either, okay?” he rolls his eyes, “but if you’re crying about the blender …”
“oh for fuck’s sake! no, this isn’t about the blender, 305.” you huff.
“ah.” he opens his mouth and closes it to think what to say next, “lemme guess … boy trouble?”
“shut the fuck up.”
he does so this time for a few minutes until you start talking.
“look, i’ve been meaning to say this but i’m sorry for being an asshole to you. you’re new here and i gave you a bad impression of me. i don’t want to continue making this a hostile living situation for the both of us.” you meant every word you said and whether jungkook accepts your apology, that’s for him to decide. at least you were the bigger person to apologize and take accountability.
“thanks. i’m sorry for being rude too. clean slate?” he reaches his hand out for you to shake. you look at his tattooed hand and a part of you feels relieved at the prospect of a resolution. you shake his hand in agreement. his hand was warm, a little calloused, but the hold was firm and promising.
“you’ll stop with the blender now?” you muse.
“aw man, i was getting used to the daily fresh green smoothies … but i think the blender is on its last leg. i’ll spare you for now and buy premade smoothies,” he grins and winks jokingly. his smile was friendly, similar to the one he gave to nayeon that one date. speaking of which, you’ll have to text her when you get home … she’ll definitely want to hear this update. you’ve been religiously in contact with her since the movie date and she’s been your person when it came to complaining about jungkook.
you and jungkook stare out at the sunset and breathe in the autumn air. it’s nice and just what you needed.
“hey, 307?” jungkook breaks the silence after a while and you hum in response, “for what it’s worth, he sounds like a dying gorilla when he fucks.”
it was the first time you laughed all day.
things have gone back to normal between you and dohwan surprisingly. he apologized to you the next day and said he acted out because work has been on him lately. you accepted his apology.
on top of that, you and jungkook are … getting along? he’s actually not that bad. he greets you every morning and makes small talk with you about the weather when you are both at the mailroom.
oh, and the blender at 5 a.m. have stopped completely. he does complain that he misses his green smoothie, to which you reply that he can still make it … just not when you’re still in deep sleep.
“no thanks, the prep is annoying.” he brushes it off.
so one morning after grocery shopping, you pick up a cup of green smoothie from your favorite shop and drop it off at his door before he’s back from his usual run.
‘drink up, 305. - your lovely, sweet, favorite neighbor 307 ♡’
to which, he dropped off a matcha pastry to you the next day after you mentioned how you’ve been craving it lately.
‘peace offering to the demon. ps. you’re my only neighbor LOL - 305’
needless to say, this started a ritual between you and him dropping off snacks and drinks to each other.
so yeah, things have been good.
tonight, dohwan is taking you out on a movie date to watch wicked. it’s not your first choice, but you love a classic so you’re open to see this modern-day remake. plus, he’s been extra sweet to you too.
you’re standing near the ticketing area waiting for dohwan to get snacks when you suddenly hear, “307?”
you turn your head and it’s jungkook with a girl you’ve never met before. he waves and asks what you’re watching.
you point at a nearby wicked movie poster and he nods.
“we’re seeing the same movie too. sorry, forgot to introduce you both — this is jinah,” he gestures at the girl next to him and she nods at you in acknowledgment, “and this is my neighbor.”
“ohhh the one that drilled for a week?” she marvels at you and you flush at her question.
“three days,” he corrects, “but felt like an eternity.” jungkook looks back at you like it’s an inside joke and you feel warm under his gaze.
“he’s exaggerating. eternity is waking up to a blender for almost a month.” you fire back casually and it earns a laugh from everyone.
“well, you’re here with someone this time right?” he teases since he notices your makeup is done extra nice tonight and you have on a shorter beige skirt that cuts right at the top of your thighs. you looked beautiful whether or not this was for an actual date.
anyways, it’s all said in pure jest and he knows you take no offense in it when you laugh. knows he can joke around with you now — you’ve both established a good rapport.
“mhm. you bought tickets right next to each other this time?” you retort and he snorts at your question.
jungkook stares off from a distance and his gaze changes. he takes hold of jinah’s hand in front of you.
“i’ll catch you later, 307. enjoy the movie, ‘kay?”
“oh, okay,” you stare at jungkook in confusion, “it was nice meeting you, jinah. hope you both enjoy the movie.”
they both turn and head to the the concessions first and you’re back waiting alone again, but not for long.
a hand touches your lower back and you know it belonged to dohwan.
“ready?” he hands over your drink and you both head to the screening auditorium.
there’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you push it away once you’ve found your seats.
jungkook feels sick.
he’s seated behind you and dohwan. that was fine — wasn’t the problem.
the issue was seeing him be overly affectionate to you once he took notice of jungkook outside the auditorium. he doesn’t want to assume, but that’s the energy he gets from dohwan. it’s too much. though perhaps that’s how he usually was to you — he should be doting to you as someone you’re romantically involved with.
jungkook has a bad feeling about him.
jungkook has been on multiple dates this year, nothing ever leading to more because there wasn’t a spark beyond physical attraction. he doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time or hurt someone in the process if he were to continue something he sees no future with. which brings him to wonder why you still entertain that man when he clearly comes and goes as he pleases.
the sex can’t be that good … based on what jungkook was forced to hear that one evening. plus, he made you cry. that man can’t be good.
well, what does he know about relationships? he’s the “serial dater” while you’ve been with the same person. obviously jungkook is doing something wrong. maybe jungkook was just projecting.
he lets out a sigh when dohwan slips his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.
“you good?” jinah whispers.
“yeah, sorry. didn’t realize how long the movie was. ass is starting to go numb,” he smiles apologetically.
she nods and refocuses back to the big screen. jinah was nice, but a little too uptight for his liking … she would stare back blankly at him when he tells a joke and it makes him question his own humor. he’s sure he’s a funny guy — you always seemed to laugh at his remarks.
shit.
why was he thinking about his neighbor when he’s on a date with another person?
he shakes away those thoughts and zones in on the movie. just a couple more hours till he can go home and relax. a bitter part of him hopes he doesn’t have to see you and dohwan enter your place together tonight.
you and jungkook have this thing where you go on walks and get your mail at the same time on fridays. that’s the day you work from home and he’s off.
you never liked walks but jungkook called you out one day for walking extra stiff up the stairs. you can’t help it … sitting for long hours at a desk job wasn’t ideal for your body, but it got the bills paid. by the end of your shifts, you’re too burnt out to do anything. you’re not like him who goes on routine runs at the ass crack of dawn. not everyone was fortunate to have a … wait, you’re not sure what he really did for work.
“305.” you deadpan, trying to maintain your big steps to match his long strides.
“hm?” he takes notice of your walking form and slows down his pace so that you can catch up. his dimples are on full display when he looks at you and it nearly makes you forget what you were going to ask him.
“what do you do for work?”
“what’s it to you, 307?” his brows raise in question and he chuckles when you scowl.
“just wondering. you seem to have a good work-life balance.” you shrug. he has to be making some form of income to afford the cost of living in this part of the city, so if it’s not an office job like yours, you’re curious what his line of work could be in.
“currently a tattoo apprentice, but i do art commissions on the side.”
“oh?” it makes sense. he had this artistic aura to him … tattoo apprentice also made sense too with his sleeve of tattoos. you wonder how many of those he designed himself.
“that’s very cool,” you mean it. you wish you could draw but your art skills could only rival a preschooler at best.
“yeah?” he scratches his behind his head, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he gets a little shy or flustered. “parents were super against it up until they saw what i made on my first commission.”
“it’s always like that with parents, huh? if you’re not a doctor or lawyer, nothing is ever enough for them,” you shake your head. it’s a small revelation, but jungkook feels the weight of your words. he can relate.
“you like what you do?” he tries to change the topic.
“it’s okay, gets the bills paid but honestly i’m developing a shrimp back from sitting at the desk all day.” you confess.
“good thing we’re going on these walks, miss hunchback.” he quips and nudges your arm with his elbow.
you stick your tongue out at him and his smile widens. jungkook takes out his phone and shows you some of the tattoos he’s assisted with on some clients these past months. you zoom in and stare in awe — the line work and colors were beyond beautiful and clean.
“they’re amazing, jungkook.”
his nose crinkles when he smiles at your compliment and cheeks flush at the usage of his real name.
“whenever you’re free, you can come over to check out my commissions.” he offers.
“yeah? you promise this isn’t some secret invitation to get murdered?” you smile cheekily at him and he playfully rolls his eyes.
“no promises,” he says and grins when you dramatically stop in your tracks.
“come on, 307. your lunch break is almost over and i gotta get my mail.”
you and jungkook return from the mailroom with stacks of envelopes and coupon advertising from random companies.
he’s behind you looking through his stack. among his many bad habits, one is not having the patience to open his mail in the comforts of his own home. typically by the time you both get to your respective doors, he already has the majority of his envelopes torn open.
men.
you stick your key into your door and hear jungkook gasp.
“shit!” he lets out a string of curses and you glance over where he’s at in front of his door … absolutely decked out in glitter.
“what the hell is this?” he’s dusting himself off, but that only serves to worsen the damage.
all the lights in your head go off. fuck. you had forgotten about the glitter prank order you made during the time jungkook was being a little shit with his blender. you totally forgot to call the company to cancel it …
you feel bad, but you can’t help but let out a series of giggles.
“oh my … jungkook, i’m so sorry,” you say in between your fits of laughter.
he looks at you in confusion but it doesn’t take long for him to piece things together. he tips his head back and looks at you incredulously.
“you did this? 307 … this is too much. how the fuck am i gonna get rid of all this glitter?” he opens his arms out and it makes you laugh even more to see him in this state.
“‘m sorry, i …” you try to catch your breath, “forgot to cancel the request and you were being such a dickhead that time.”
“i fuckin’ look like edward cullen.” he groans, looking at you with a serious expression and that has you doubling over.
he eventually joins you in your laughter, hands clutching his stomach.
“h-here,” you say in between tears, “i’ll help you.”
you dust off some flecks of glitter on his shoulders and reach up to smear it over his cheeks. this has got to be the highlight of your week.
jungkook pulls away and laughs at your antics.
“you think this is funny, huh?” he opens his arms again and you nod while stifling away your giggles, but your demeanor changes when he smirks deviously.
his arms circle around you and presses your face into his hard chest. jungkook is cackling just as hard as you are. he’s rubbing his body on your frame and you’ve accepted your fate cause you’re no match for his strength. you’re both even now. all glittered up, laughing, and having so much fun with this “misfortune.”
you won’t admit you’re enjoying his embrace. you won’t admit you fancy his cologne and aftershave. you won’t admit how you feel so soft against the hard ridges of his torso.
you definitely won’t admit how starstruck you got when he finally lets up and stares at you cheekily, unknowing of his doings and how pretty the glitter flecks frame his cheekbones and nose bridge.
he really was perfection.
little did you know, jungkook was also completely enamored by the way your eyes sparkle despite the crazy amount of glitter now stuck on your face and body.
did time freeze? no one has said a word but you can hear and feel your hearts pounding against each other in this close proximity.
“what the fuck?” a voice pulls both you and jungkook out from that dream-like state.
you look and it’s dohwan. confusion and anger is etched and evident on his face. he’s holding a bag of takeout, for what you assume was going to be your lunch. he stalks over and grabs your wrist and yanks you away from jungkook.
“hey man, it’s not what it looks like.” jungkook says. jungkook’s expression is neutral with a hint of annoyance in his tone. dohwan pays no attention to him and looks at you instead.
“are you cheating on me?”
“the hell, dohwan?” you stare back in shock at his accusation.
realizing how awkward this situation was, you start pulling dohwan towards your apartment. you quickly turn to jungkook where he was still standing, he looks concerned for you, “sorry, jungkook. uh, i’ll catch you later.”
he nods and moves around you and dohwan to get to his apartment door.
when you and dohwan are finally in the privacy of your home, you turn and he’s setting down the takeout on your coffee table. you can tell he’s still upset because he makes no move to sit down — he leans against your wall with his arms crossed.
“well?”
“well, what? it really wasn’t what it looked like, dohwan.” you roll your eyes, making your way to your sink to wash off the glitter on your skin. glitter was a bitch to get rid of, but you’ll do just about anything to distract you of dohwan’s awful attitude. you have about 10 minutes till you have to get back to work and don’t have the time to be arguing.
“don’t fucking lie. you’re always raving about how nice he is to you now. and i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that’s not some ‘friendly neighbor’ shit,” dohwan raises his voice in frustration.
you toss the kitchen rag onto your counter and turn, “what’s so wrong about me talking about how someone is nice to me?! at least you know about the people in my life, but i don’t know jack-shit about yours. i don’t know what you’re insinuating, but you need to check yourself.”
“don’t try to spin this on me. whatever is going on with you and your neighbor, needs to stop.”
“literally nothing is happening between us??” you run your hand over your face, “i can pick and choose who stays in my life, dohwan. you can’t control that.” you try to level your breathing. you hated feeling like your partner laid claim on you as if you were some sort of property and had ownership.
don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry.
his eyes soften after realizing what he implied and he comes closer to you. he rubs your forearms and pulls you in for a hug. you let the tears fall now.
“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just … i was insecure.” he confesses.
you sniffle into his chest, “why?”
he chuckles, “my girl hanging around a good looking dude? who wouldn’t be insecure?”
his girl.
“wasn’t aware i was your girlfriend.” you pull away from his warmth and regret seeing the glitter you’ve transferred onto his clothing in the process.
“well … i mean, you’re technically not. who needs labels?” he brushes you off and sits on the couch now. you’re left standing there, another wave of uncertainty washes over you. 5 minutes till you need to start working … do you really want to open the can of worms right now?
fuck it.
“i don’t know. people who love each other?”
he snorts then rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re back in serious mode.
“here we go again. we’ve been through this plenty of times—“
“do you even like me?”
“yes, of course.” he answers quickly.
“do you love me?”
he’s silent.
“then what are we doing, dohwan?” the real question was … what were you doing? it’s hitting year three of this situationship and nothing more has progressed.
“hey, hey … i thought you enjoyed spending time with each other … we agreed that it was just me and you,” he comes close to you again, but you hold a hand out to keep some distance.
“i need to get back to work. can you give me some space?” you mumble, “thanks for the food.”
the fallout between you and dohwan was anything but amicable.
you both boiled it all down to two things: you want more. he wants things to remain the same.
you requested for space and a break in the meantime while you figure things out. during that time, you felt yourself distancing from jungkook too. he tried to greet you like normally after dohwan’s confrontation, yet every time you see him, you make a beeline into your apartment.
guess old habits die hard.
you took this time to focus on you. you spoke to a therapist, got in contact with some girlfriends, visited your family, and busied yourself with work. self improvement, if one could call it. your therapist recommended to decentralize men in your life for a while so that you can focus on yourself. which meant no dohwan.
… and no jungkook.
you’ve been keeping nayeon posted on your life and she calls you out for being inconsiderate to jungkook. funny, because she was on your side when he was being rude to you and immediately ghosted him after the movie date (you still haven’t told jungkook you’ve been in contact with nayeon because things have gotten a little crazy). you promised to her you’ll talk to him soon though. he was just unfortunately caught in the crossfire of your messy relationship.
honestly? you missed your neighbor — your friend. but you needed to get your head sorted out and you’d be terrible company either way.
jungkook didn’t deserve that.
the break between you and dohwan meant that you don’t talk to each other till you figured things out.
breaks meant for a reset.
he kept texting you and telling you how much he missed you.
you had to keep reminding him of the boundaries.
he eventually obliged.
thinking you were finally ready to talk weeks later, you went over to his place after work, only to find him in shock, hair disheveled, red scratch marks all over his chest and shoulders.
“oh, um, i—“ you panic, feel your heart drop to your stomach when the realization settles in after you hear another voice call out his name from behind.
dohwan took that break and fell into bed with another woman.
“w-wait, let me explain,” he follows you out his door and nearly topples over you when you turned abruptly to face him.
you feel betrayed — so much for ‘me and you.’ the anger bubbling in your chest has a way of migrating through your body. you tremble, tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and your teeth dig hard on your bottom lip … you can taste metallic.
“we’re on a break,” he says as if you weren’t aware of the terms you originally initiated.
“okay? so that means you go and fuck someone else?” your voice is shaky but you push on, “you cheated.”
“no! i mean, fuck, what did you expect me to do? we stopped talking and it was fucking lonely … i— you can’t put all the blame on me,” he stammers.
so, it was your fault?
“i didn’t make you sleep with someone else. a-all—,” you choke on a sob, “all i asked was for some space and time. you couldn’t even give me that.”
the thing is, dohwan hasn’t given you anything beyond what he was willing to get from you. he liked your company, thought you were a sweet and funny girl, and god were you good in bed. he didn’t feel ready to settle down in a relationship … felt that being with someone officially took the spark out, but he also wasn’t willing to let you go.
so he held out for as long as he could. as a result, you did too in hopes that he could find it in himself to change his feelings for you.
love is patient, love is kind.
you’ve been patient, you’ve been kind. if this is love, why does it break you down?
maybe this love wasn’t for you; but rather, he isn’t for you no matter how long you wait and the number of pennies you’ve thrown into the wishing well.
“goodbye, dohwan.”
jungkook hates overly loud sex.
it’s the reason why he takes the extra precaution to put socks on his bed frames to muffle any potential noises. if his partner was a huge moaner, he’d do what any sensible person would … stuff his fingers into their mouth. what? the girl usually doesn’t mind and it minimizes the noises. plus, it was hot.
win-win.
sex didn’t have to be over the top to show that you’re passionate. jungkook knows that very well.
it’s also why he originally lost a lot of respect for you when he overheard you and dohwan having sex that one time. well, mainly dohwan.
fuckin’ gorilla.
jungkook has been worried for you ever since that awkward glitter situation. he wanted to apologize and even talk to dohwan if it’d make things less stressful on your end.
you’ve ghosted him for weeks. no more walks, small talk, snack trades, or trips to the mailroom.
he has a feeling it has something to do with dohwan.
just like how he knows the sobs emitting through his walls tonight has something to do with him.
jungkook hates overly loud sex, but more than that, he hates the sounds of your cries.
‘cheer up, 307. you deserve some sweetness in your day. ps. i’m gonna make you run if you keep missing our walks. also? stop avoiding me, it’s annoying - jk’
you smile and sip the banana milk jungkook left outside your door.
he always had a way with cheering you up despite being a headache for some time in your life. your therapist recommended to decentralize men from your life for a while … sure, jungkook fits in that category, but he’s also your friend.
you slowly let him back in.
he’s been good to you. though, you can’t say the same for yourself. you’ve been a shitty neighbor and a shitty friend.
yet jungkook shrugs it off and treats you normally.
you’ve been mending a broken heart and jungkook has been a great company meanwhile.
“you really need to work on your conflict avoidance, 307.” jungkook says one evening. he’s sprawled out on your couch with a bag of chips in his hands. it’s movie night — a tradition he forced upon you because you’ve apparently never watched the movie trolls.
you peel your eyes from the screen and tilt your head, “what do you mean?”
“any time something gets tough, you run away. gotta stop that, say what’s on your mind and work it out.”
“hm.”
“what?” he presses.
“nothing.”
“see? you’re doing it again. just say what you wanna say,” jungkook rolls his eyes.
“fine,” you chew on your bottom lip, “i hate this movie.”
jungkook had picked trolls 2 and it was so much more awful in comparison to the first one you were forced to watch last weekend.
“fuckin knew it. you’ve been spacing out all night,” he laughs, “see, doesn’t it feel good to be honest bout your feelings?” he reaches for your remote to switch to another movie. you watch him. really take him in and almost want to laugh at how horrible your first couple of months was with him and now he’s in your apartment watching awful movies with you to nurse your brokenheart.
you really had read jungkook wrong. he wasn’t just some conventionally attractive man that used his pretty privilege to get his way. he was genuinely a good person.
which makes you think … why the fuck is he hanging around someone like you on a friday night? he could be hanging out with some friends or going on a blind date with a pretty girl. better yet, why isn’t he in a relationship with someone?
was he just like you?
his voice brings you out of your thoughts, “alright, spill it 307. you look like you have something else to say.”
you sigh.
“how are you still single? just … i know you’re always dating different people. it can’t be that bad for you right? i mean, if you’re struggling … i feel kind of hopeless for myself.”
jungkook looks at you, dimples on display as he contemplates on what he wants to say next. the thing about jungkook is that he looks like he belongs in your circle — fits perfectly, actually. has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable about asking hard questions. he may tease you, but he’ll never judge you.
he ruffles your hair.
“just haven’t found the right one. it takes time and i’m in no rush. you shouldn’t either.” you feel yourself soften from his remarks until, “or else you’ll end up with a gorilla again.”
jungkook is treading in dangerous territories.
aside from trying to potty train his new doberman puppy, bam, he’s faced with another issue.
he may have developed a small crush on his neighbor. he can’t pinpoint exactly when he started getting that fuzzy warm feeling around you. it was a telltale sign when he’d wake up and sleep to the thought of you.
you can’t really blame all of this on him though. you’ve been a little more open about hanging out with him since your breakup with dohwan. jungkook has gotten used to your presence as a result. some people would see it as using jungkook as a rebound, but he feels anything but that.
you’re a breath of fresh air to hang around after a long day of work. which is funny cause there was a period of time he considered hexing you. now? he longs to see you and fill in gaps of his day with you. when he doesn’t see you, he thinks of you.
that just might be his demise.
even bam has taken a liking to you and often refuses to let you go back home when you are over.
like dog, like owner.
“aw bammie,” you kneel down, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”
bam whines and follows you to the door.
“you can stay if you like, the guys won’t mind.” jungkook reasons. he’s having a small get together with some of his friends and extended the invite to you. you declined, telling him you don’t want to intrude and he should spend some quality time with them.
“just say that you want to be with me 24/7 and go,” you joke. jungkook won’t admit to you he does.
“nah, just need someone to watch bam while i have some bro time.” he teases back.
“hire a dog nanny then,” your hands automatically reaches down to scratch behind bam’s ear. there’s no need to hire one cause you’d willingly take care of bam for free. it’s all fun and jokes, jungkook knows this. he laughs and holds bam back from following you out the door.
“be on your best behavior tonight for your daddy, ‘kay?” you talk to bam like you’re his mom and jungkook’s stomach does flips at the mention of ‘daddy’ leaving your lips, “if it gets too much, you can sleep over at my place.”
bam has a sleeping mat at your place too. you’ve gotten it for him when jungkook comes over to watch movies — insisted that the pup should have a comfortable space in your home.
jungkook feels like he’s sharing custody with you. everything feels more domestic and it’s fucking with jungkook’s head and heart. which is why he asked you to dog sit bam while he goes on a date next weekend with some client’s friend he met at the tattoo parlor. thinks this date would be a good reset from you.
you wave goodbye to him, a playful grin adorning your lips, “have fun tonight, 305. if it gets too much, you can also come to my place too.”
he hates when you tease like this. makes him feel like he holds a space in your life more than he already should. knows you’re joking, but can tell there’s some truth in your statement. you’re attached to him just as much as he is to you.
“also, try not to be too loud tonight.”
“no promises,” he laughs, “hobi-hyung will be over.”
you giggle, you’ve met hoseok in the passing and also teased him too for causing a ruckus at the housewarming party. all his friends like you — it’s no surprise jungkook would eventually too.
so yeah, he’s treading in dangerous territories.
you’ve really been focused on yourself and your friendships. on your hardest days where you yearn for intimacy, you force yourself to be okay with the idea and concept of being alone. there’s a lot of bad days, but they get better.
it’s not always about being in isolation though.
it’s about not being dependent on someone to fill a void.
with dohwan, you realized you fell in the pattern of needing to be around him and when he wasn’t there, the world crumbled beneath your feet. over time, you realized he wasn’t good for you.
wrong person, wrong time.
because the right person will always make you feel safe and seen.
jungkook was right. it’ll take time to find that person — there’s no rush.
yet, you have this disquieting feeling when you see him rustling through his home to get ready for his date tonight. what do you do when you feel like the right person might be slipping away under your nose?
right person, wrong time, you suppose.
bam, his not so small puppy, lays his head on your lap and would occasionally lift it when jungkook walks close. if bam is doting with you, he’s completely devoted to jungkook.
doesn’t realize that his dad is gonna leave you both until he puts on his shoes at the door.
“ah-ah, bammie, stay,” you hold him and he whimpers for jungkook.
“well? how do i look?” jungkook does a quick 360 and you wanna poke fun at him, but you can tell he’s on edge for whatever reason. he has no reason to be. he’s charming, handsome, and knows exactly what to say or do to make someone’s heart skip a beat as he’s done so to you numerous times — you’d never admit it.
he’s your neighbor and most importantly, your friend. it’s a sacred relationship and boundary you’re hesitant to break. so you swallow down whatever you’re feeling and smile reassuringly to him, “you look great, jungkook.”
he beams and extends his hands out for a high-five, “thanks, wish me luck.”
your hands make contact with his and it feels electrifying.
“no luck needed, mr. 305 worldwide.” he absolutely hates the new nickname you’ve given him, doesn’t argue back though, simply scoffs and looks at the time on his phone.
“now go before you’re late and bam bolts out the door for you.” you shoo him out his own apartment.
he reaches down to pat bam on his head and give him some tender smooches.
“call me if there’s an emergency or if you’re bored.” he tells you with his hands shoved in his pockets and some of his bangs fall onto his forehead. there’s something so boyish about his mannerisms … you swallow thickly when you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. a part of you wonders if you tell him to bail on the date, would he? you’re not cruel enough to do that to him and his date. they could be soulmates for all you know.
“and what? you’ll come entertain me?” your eyes squint, “go enjoy your date, 305. we’ll be here.”
before you know it, he’s out the door and you’re left wondering what if.
jungkook didn’t realize how much of a disaster the date was going until his date seated across from him rolls her eyes.
“i’m sorry … am i boring you with my story?” he was telling her how he had to help you break into your own apartment because you forgot to bring your keys in the middle of the night.
“it just seems like you’re wasting both our times.” she says and places her drink down. her red manicured fingers circle the rim of her cup.
he’s confused. jungkook has been doing his best to keep the date afloat by talking and asking questions. he thought it’s been going well, minus the couple of times he checked his phone to see if he got any emergency texts from you about bam.
“i mean, why are you here when you clearly like someone else?”
“i don’t get—wait, what?”
“your neighbor 007 or whatever.” she says. it’s the wrong number and she knows it, but wants to see if jungkook reacts, “you’ve been talking about her all night.”
has he? he was just making light conversation … you’re a part of his life so slipping your name here and there feels natural.
“look, you seem like a nice guy. you’re obviously good looking too. if you’re not looking for anything serious, we can go back to my apartment right now for some fun. but long term? it feels like you have someone waiting at home for you.”
and the mood goes sour. jungkook is used to this. used to his dates objectifying him as a quick and good fuck — granted, he’s played this to his advantage when he was younger. now? it feels meaningless. he isn’t upset at that.
it’s the utter realization that he does have someone special to him and you’ve been right under his nose all this time. he’s always telling you to be honest with your feelings, yet he can’t even bring himself to uphold that advice for whatever reason.
jungkook apologizes to his date again, pays for the tab, and rushes home.
home can be a place, but for jungkook, it’s seeing you on his couch and greeting him with a sleepy smile.
bam jumps off your lap to nudge jungkook’s leg for attention.
“has he been good?” jungkook asks while scratching bam’s head, though he stops momentarily at the sight of you stretching and your shirt lifts a little to reveal the curves of your hips.
“mhm, an angel. how was the date?”
he contemplates on lying, but knows better. needs to practice what he preaches.
“bad.”
“oh? wanna talk about it?”
“uh, i kinda fucked it up,” jungkook toes off his shoes and avoids your eye contact.
“classic, first impressions have never been your strongest suit.” you put on your jacket and jungkook panics at the thought of you leaving early. he exhales a breath he’s been holding when you plop back down on his couch where he soon joins you.
“i’m not always that bad.” he mumbles.
“i know, i’m just teasing you.” you reach over to pinch his cheek.
when he doesn’t reply, it gets you a little worried. you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.
“sorry—“
“i kept bringing you up during the date.” he cuts you off.
“oof, no girl wants to hear about another girl …” technically, you’re hoping jungkook doesn’t talk about this one … let alone his previous dates or exes.
“i know,” he murmurs, leans his head back, and sighs, “she … called me out on it.”
“good, as she should.”
jungkook hesitates with his next words, but pushes forward, “said it’s cause i liked you.”
you pause. you could hear a pin drop in the room, minus bam’s paws making contact with the hardwood floor.
“oh … um,” you’re not dumb, you understand what he’s implying. you just don’t know how you’re going to run away from this conversation.
“i know you’re already planning your escape, 307,” he chuckles. his laugh sounds a little melancholy and an instant flood of guilt rushes through you.
“what! no! i-i just don’t know what to say,” you nibble on your lips. you’re fucking scared for what’s to come.
“just hear me out, okay?”
you nod, listen to him clear his throat and exhale a shaky breath.
“i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. maybe it’s cause i’m a creature of habit or whatever … well no, i don’t think it’s that. i like being around you and i’m thankful you’re in my life.” he looks and smiles at you fondly, as if he is preparing himself for the biggest rejection, “i like you … a lot. you don’t have to accept my feelings nor do anything with it. these feelings are mine and i just wanted to be honest with you. at the end of the day, i’d still like to remain friends as long as you’ll allow me.”
you want to fucking cry. he’s always been better at words and expressing himself. you see it in how he treats his friends, his dog, his profession and art … most importantly, you. you also want to be honest with him, but it already seems like he’s accepting the fate of nothing more.
you owe him the truth at least.
“jungkook … i—“ you begin, “i like you a lot too.”
jungkook lets out an exasperating grunt — he thinks you’re pitying him.
“please don’t feel the need to sugarcoat, 307. i just wanted to be—“
you press your lips to his. the kiss was too quick for anyone to process anything. you’ll remember though. you’ll remember his strawberry flavored chapstick, the cold lip piercing barrels, and the way he leans in slightly to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon. jungkook’s eyes widen at the realization that you just kissed him. all too short and he doesn’t think he can stop thinking about you after this anymore even if he tried.
“your feelings are yours,” you hold his hand, “but these are mine too.”
he whispers your name lowly and you shake your head.
“i’m no good with words,” you confess, “i just know that i like you too. but … i’m also a fucking mess, jungkook.”
“huh? no, you’re—“
“yeah, i am. i just got out of something long term … it wouldn’t be good for me to jump into another relationship. i don’t think it’s fair for you to deal with all my baggage when i haven’t sorted myself out.”
he nods, a little dejected but he understands what you mean.
right person, wrong time.
“okay,” he finally says, “nothing will change. friends?”
“friends,” you agree.
it’s a promise out of respect for you. will you regret this? possibly. though, everything feels normal when he walks you to your door later and wishes you a goodnight.
“don’t be fucking weird after tonight. if you avoid me, i’m making you run 10 laps every friday, 307.”
“rude,” you roll your eyes, “i should be saying that to you. don’t be fucking weird or else you’re getting another glitter bomb in the mail.”
“that shit was the worst to get off.”
“funny as hell though.”
“yeah, for you.”
everything feels so natural and safe with jungkook. how he looks at you, laughs at your jokes, eyes twinkle when you do the same for him. you don’t need the night sky when you got galaxies staring back at you.
“with all due respect, you’re being stupid.” nayeon says through the speaker.
“how? we both agreed that staying friends would be the best.” you reply a little louder over your sink. your kitchen was overdue for a cleaning and the weekends were the perfect time to catch up on chores.
you’re on the phone with nayeon and it’s a good distraction while you busy yourself with other things at the same time. though, you’re sort of regretting the call now with nayeon berating you for your decision to remain friends with jungkook a month ago.
“people can still date and work on themselves. it’s not a linear thing.”
“yeah, but—“
“you’re just scared. i know you.”
“nayeon …”
“jungkook and dohwan aren’t the same. anyone can get hurt in a relationship, but you shouldn’t deny yourself of something out of fear.”
“yes, but … i don’t think i’d be able to face jungkook if something bad does happen.” you’re serious. running away is your strong suit and you’d move out immediately if shit hits the fan.
“so you’d have no regrets staying like this?”
you don’t reply and that was an answer in itself.
“why are you so hellbent on me and jungkook? i thought you hated him …” it’s sort of funny to be talking to nayeon of all people about jungkook. hell, it’s thanks to jungkook’s mess up on their first tinder date that helped you land your friendship with nayeon.
everything happens for a reason.
“i only hated him cause you did. that’s what friends do, silly. also, if you’re feeling awkward because he and i dated … don’t. there wasn’t anything more. anyways, stop avoiding. you always do this.” she’s right. you’re the queen of avoiding hard conversations.
“i don’t want to lose a friend, nayeon.”
“you won’t. but you’ll lose your chance at experiencing something beautiful, sweetie,” she says, “you owe it to yourself. but hey, i gotta go to my pilates class. i’ll text you later, okay? i love you!”
“okay, love you too. i’m sorry for being difficult. don’t pull a muscle in class!”
“if i do, will you give me a massage?” she laughs, “and no, you’re never difficult. just you being you.”
the call ends and you’re left alone once again with your thoughts. things haven’t really changed between you and jungkook. he’s still his chipper self. you just yearn for more time with him these days. every subtle touch … whether it be his hand on your lower back guiding you upstairs, his fingers brushing yours during the walks, or when he massages your feet upon request sends you into a place where you feel yourself succumbing to your deepest desires.
you want more.
you can tell jungkook does too. he’s unashamed in his affections towards you but he’ll never pressure you or cross that boundary you’ve set.
you realize it hurts to deny yourself of wanting someone who wants you just as equally.
you’re at jungkook’s place again one evening. bam is all tuckered out from his walk and jungkook is fixing a bowl of popcorn to snack on while you search through netflix for something to watch.
it’s your pick tonight and you wanted to watch a crime documentary. ghost and thrillers don’t interest you, but crimes? yeah, full body chills because they’re real.
you turn to see jungkook in a big white t-shirt with grey sweats — he looks so comfortable. he’s seasoning the popcorn and catches you staring at him. he shakes his head and smiles back down bashfully at his bowl.
he looks like home … no, he feels like home.
fuck.
you really are torturing yourself.
when jungkook settles onto the couch and the documentary starts, you scoot closer to him. you don’t know if you’re making a fool of yourself, but jungkook pays no mind. his arm circle around you effortlessly and you nestle your cheek into his chest.
so warm — he smells so nice. jungkook sports on a lax expression, yet you can feel and hear the rapid thumps of his heart.
“you sure friends cuddle when they watch shit together?” he mumbles, eyes trained on the television.
“no,” you look up at him, “do you not want to?” you start to move away, but jungkook holds you in place.
he feels your smile through his shirt. yeah, you’re torturing him and he’s enjoying it.
as the documentary plays, jungkook gets immersed in the story. he looks a little silly with his big eyes and mouth slightly ajar as he soaks in all the crime details and backstory. his hand involuntarily moves to massage your scalp and you feel yourself lulled to sleep under his touch.
after a while, he calls your name and gently shakes you awake.
“hey sleepyhead. had a good nap?” he muses.
“mhm, sorry … was so tired from work. did i miss a lot?” you look at the dark television screen and feel guilty.
“just the entire documentary,” he teases, “it’s alright, you wouldn’t be traumatized like me now. i know i’m going to be having nightmares.”
“‘m sorry,” you snuggle closer to him and his breath hitches, “anything i can do to help?”
“hmm …” he holds his thinking pose, “i don’t know, maybe a kiss?”
“just kidding, 307. it’s late, so let’s get you hom—”
“yeah? think a kiss will make you feel better?” you press on.
you knew he was joking, but there’s a surge of confidence coursing in you when you push up on him and he swallows hard. he says your name in warning but he makes no effort to move or push you away. he wants this badly too. been thinking about you and your lips since you last kissed him — never stopped.
“don’t do something you’ll regret.” his hand cradles your cheek.
“i’m not,” your nose brush against his, “i wanna kiss you. please, will you let me?” you ask with pleading eyes and jungkook lets out a shuddering breath and nods.
you look down at his parted lips and back at his hooded eyes. you’re not sure who moved first — it doesn’t matter.
when your lips meet, it’s like heaven and hell collided and made earth — waves crashing onto land, blue horizons, and the smell of pinewood after rain. you don’t think you can let go of this feeling any time soon and when you finally do give into your longings, life feels a little more salvageable … freeing.
jungkook slots his lips between yours, pulling you up to straddle his lap. he moans when your hands tangle in his hair and pulls you in closer if that was even possible.
you lick into his parting mouth when he pants, indulge in the way he sounds as he’s kissing you back. the kiss is hard and passionate — so much more different than the first one you had. there’s a sense of urgency here … like there’s a time constraint or limitation to your affections. you wish you could reassure him; though the best you can do at this moment is to drink him in as much as he allows you to. his hands roam all over your body and you shiver in pleasure when one of his hand travels to the front of your throat possessively. there’s no pressure in his hold, but it’s telling you that you belong here with him.
when you finally do pull away, you plant dainty kisses on the corner of his lips and jaw. he giggles at the tickling feeling and brings your face back to his to give you a much gentler kiss. though you are no longer kissing, your foreheads stay connected in place.
“there, much better, right?” you say breathlessly.
“mhm,” he replies, “should’ve used the trauma card earlier if i knew i’d be getting free kisses.”
your brain is going a mile a second, but you’re sure of this.
“you don’t need to,” you say a little uncertain. jungkook straightens himself in his seated position when he realizes you’re about to say something serious.
“you can kiss me whenever you want … if you want! i know i said we should stay friends, but i think i like you too much to just stay that way. i want to see where things go and i’m fucking scared. i mean, fuck, am i making any sense? please say something,” you’re rambling and jungkook can only smile as you unravel through your confession.
of course he wants more with you.
“just say you want me and go, 307.” he laughs when you pull away cutely. he has no intentions of letting you go and you had no intentions of leaving. it’s too comfortable in his embrace.
“we’ll take things slow, okay?” he kisses your nose in reassurance.
“okay.”
fast forward three months, you and jungkook have been dating each other — slow and steady as promised. no official title (yet) but you know he’s exclusively seeing you. you’re enjoying his company and there’s no rush. when there’s something special and secure, it’s all smooth sailing and calm tides. you never have to guess with him.
he feels the same with you.
this marks the 13th weekend date with you and he’s going to do it. jungkook is going to ask you to be his girlfriend. he’s fucking nervous … has a whole date planned: dinner, movies, then back to his place where he’ll officially ask you.
part of him wants to wait for the next weekend because the number 13 was bad luck, but he’s felt nothing but luck with you. luck in the chances of meeting you in this apartment complex, luck in your friendship, and now luck with the prospect of love.
so when your door swings open to reveal you in a short black satin dress, hair done prettily, and your skin dewey and sparkly from your makeup, he knew was going to make 13 lucky no matter what.
“you look beautiful,” jungkook compliments and holds out his hand to walk you down the stairs.
“you don’t look half bad too,” you taunt, taking his warm hand. there’s no malice cause jungkook knows how you feel about him. notices how your eyes rake over his form, has caught you checking him out plenty of times before, felt the way your lips moved on his skin to praise how hot he looked one evening despite him coming back looking like a sweaty hog that’s been run over by a train.
if you’re curious … aside from making out and heavy petting paired with some dry humping sessions here and there, no, they haven’t had sex. probably for the better, it’s already hard enough to separate from each other after every hangout.
slow and steady. you are both fine with that.
“sooo, you gonna tell me where we’re going or is this where you murder me?” you check your lip gloss in the rear view mirror. jungkook’s right hand naturally find its way to your thighs while he drives.
“you’ll find out soon,” he gives you a little squeeze and it sends a little tingle to your core.
it’s going terribly.
traffic was absolutely ass for no reason, so they get to their first destination 45 minutes later than anticipated. the restaurant he had reservations for let him know that the kitchen caught on fire the moment he parked in the lot.
okay, fine. to the movies it is.
except, the movie stopped halfway through due to some technical difficulties. he was going to lose his mind, but you were a good sport through it all. jungkook still had one final trick up his sleeve for you.
when you both finally get back to his place with bags of takeout, jungkook lets out a wail of frustration.
“bam, no!”
all the balloons he blew up have been popped. you look past his shoulders to see a torn up sign with the words: wil u e my fren?
bam prances to you and jungkook with his wagging tail, unaware of jungkook’s inner anguish and turmoil. jungkook runs his hands over his face and freezes in place.
“aw baby,” you try comforting jungkook, “it was an accident. bam didn’t know.”
“i know, i just … fuck, gimme a minute.” jungkook stalks over to his bedroom and closes the door. you place the bags of food on the dining table and crouch down to pet bam.
“you really upset your dad, bammie. he worked really hard on this,” you know bam doesn’t understand a single word you’re saying, but you’re disappointed for jungkook too. jungkook really put in the effort and you’re touched by it all. he really wants you and you want nothing more than to be his.
you feed bam his dinner and set the takeout in the fridge, unsure of when you and jungkook will be ready to eat.
hesitantly, you knock on jungkook’s door. know you don’t need his permission to come in — you’ve slept over plenty of times, but still do it out of courtesy.
“can i come in, kook?”
a moment of silence ensues before you hear a little, “… yeah.”
jungkook was on his bed, feet still on the floor with his arms sprawled out. poor boy.
you climb onto bed next to him and lay your head on his shoulder.
he’s visibly upset — not at you of course. he just wanted to make this special.
“that was fucking cute. no one has ever done that for me before.” you say. the best you got from dohwan were a bouquet of roses sent to your workplace. jungkook’s efforts superseded your expectations.
“which part? no dinner, no movies, or the shit show of a sign?”
“all of it.”
“pff, don’t lie.” he sulks.
you throw your leg over his torso to straddle his waist.
“i’m not! you’re so fucking sweet,” you move down to kiss his cheek when he doesn’t look up at you.
“come on, don’t you want my answer?” you place his hands on your hips, wanting him to touch you somewhere.
he cocks his brow at you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“fine fine, i’ll be your ‘fren’ if that’s what you want.”
he covers his face in embarrassment, “ugh, that shit was so humiliating. bam isn’t getting any treats for the next three days.”
“hey! don’t punish my baby. it was an honest mistake.” you reassure him, “plus, i gave him an earful.” yeah, and his dinner right after. it’s no wonder bam likes you a lot more these days.
“okay, okay … i’m still sorry about today. nothing went accordingly.” jungkook sighs and rubs soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.
“you’re not allowed to punish yourself either,” you say a matter of fact, “did you mean it though?” you look at him through your lashes.
“hm?”
“want me as your girlfriend?” when you finally say those words, it sets off a bundle of butterflies in your stomach.
jungkook quickly sits up, holding you securely so you don’t topple over, “of course, i do. just wanted to make it special for you.”
you felt fucking special.
so fucking special in how you said yes, saw how he beamed at your answer, kisses you silly, tongue running down your neck, the little bites on your collarbone — you’re on cloud 9.
he involuntarily drags your hips over his clothed length and you whimper upon contact.
“you hungry, baby? we didn’t have dinner yet,” jungkook asks innocently through his heavy breaths, but you’re too busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt. how could he possibly think about food at a time like this? then again, you have to remember he’s the biggest foodie known to earth. he’s caring of your wellbeing so of course he’d worry if you’re hungry.
he’s also your boyfriend now.
you shake your head. you don’t just want him — you need him.
you slide off of him and are on your knees in between his legs. he looks at you through his heavy lids when you clock your head to the side, waiting for the green light to take off his pants.
“you’ve been so good to me, planning this date … lemme show you how thankful i am.”
jungkook loves being praised and rewarded. he especially loves it even more coming from you. he lets out a moan when you run your hand down his clothed bulge. yes, jungkook has had sex before — honestly, don’t ask him about his body count … he’s not sure either. what he’s sure is that he loses all senses when you touch him — like a virgin touched for the very first time.
his pants are down and kicked off to the side, shirt unbuttoned haphazardly, and head thrown back when you settle between his legs to give his hard length a squeeze.
he’s so fucking big in your hand and your mouth nearly waters at the sight of his precum leaking from the slit of his cock. fuck, you don’t know how he’s going to fit in your mouth, but it doesn’t matter. you’re going to make him come undone one way or another.
“baby, i’m literally going to nut if you keep squeezing me like that.”
you laugh, “how long are you going to last inside me then?”
“fuck, you can’t say shit like that.”
“why not?” you press a small kiss on his hip bone and pump his cock with your hand. his eyes closes and mouth drops open at the change of movement.
“gonna nut even faster,” he chuckles.
jungkook hisses when you lick a long stripe underneath his shaft without warning. one of his hand reaches behind your head for support while the other one grips his bedsheets.
“oh god,” he lets out a small moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to bob your head at a pace that has him seeing stars.
his cock was lathered with your spit and his precum. the sounds you made while you sucked him off were nearly pornographic. his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when his cock hits the back of your throat.
“shit, oh f-fuck,” his fingers are caught in your hair and your moans vibrate against him when he gently pushes your head down while he fucks up into your mouth.
if you keep going like this, he wasn’t going to last long and he really wants to … can’t bring himself to cum in your mouth just yet. he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to nut quick, so he pulls you away when he nearly cums. you breathe heavily through your swollen lips. jungkook runs his thumb on your cheeks where some mascara has smeared as a result of your doing.
you’re still so fucking perfect.
he lifts you from your kneeled position back onto his lap and kisses you slow and tenderly. jungkook whines into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. your dress has ridden up on your waist, the the thin straps are loose and off your shoulders.
“i somehow fucked up the entire night and you still decided to give me the best head? must really like me or something,” jungkook looks at you endearingly and takes notice of how you’re rutting yourself onto his length.
“you know i do. my boyfriend deserves the best.” jungkook’s heart soars at hearing the word boyfriend leave your lips.
yes, he’s yours.
you shake in pleasure as you roll your hips deliciously slow on him. you’re practically soaked through your thin panties.
“did you get this wet just by sucking me off, baby?”
you nod and trail kisses on his cheeks and jaw, “all for you, kook. you always make me this wet.”
he takes so much pride in how he’s able to get you all worked up like this.
jungkook wasn’t expecting to have sex with you tonight, but it’s like you said … it’s special. the rest of your clothing join his in a pile on the ground. he rolls you onto your back and drinks in your naked form. you shy away from his stares and kiss up at him.
your hand reach between you both while he continues to kiss you and you position his still-hard cock in between your folds for that additional friction. the wet clicks mixes in with both your pantings and synchronized moans. every time the head of his cock slides and catches onto your swollen clit, you shudder and arch your back in pleasure.
“want you to fuck me,” you kiss his pouty lips and down his neck, “please?”
jungkook leans back a little, sits on the heels of his feet, and pushes your thighs close to your chest. the angle lets him move and slide your hips up and down his length even more. you gasp and call out his name in wanton.
he drops your legs down and closes the distance between you both again. his bare chest brushes against yours and he lines his cock at your entrance.
“you’re so perfect,” his breath fans over your face, “so lucky to have you.” jungkook swoops his arms under you in a tight embrace. you look at him through your glassy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck.
your heart swells at his words.
there’s little to no resistance when jungkook finally enters you.
it’s a mixture of sweet, nasty, loving, and primal desire how jungkook fucks you into his sheets. he hates loud sex, but he wants to hear all of you. the way you mewl, whimper, cry, and breathe — all of it.
and when you wrap your legs around him and coax him into cumming inside you while your fingers trace the planes of his back, he knows he’s done for.
you giggle, nudge your forehead on his, hold his hand, and kiss all over his face. the afterglow on you both is stunning.
“you’re right, you didn’t last long at all.” you hum. jungkook raises one of his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. it’s a fucking lie since jungkook knows he made you cum at least twice in the span of fucking you, but who would you be if you didn’t try challenging him a little?
he doesn’t have to say anything before slipping down your body and burying his face in between your legs. he licks up your slit tentatively, watches your brows furrow and mouth part, and moans into your heat when your hand travels to his head to push him down as he did to you.
“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere,” jungkook means it both literally and figuratively. doesn’t understand how anyone could part from you. it’s their loss.
he continues lapping up your mixed essence, nipping at your inner thighs on occasion when your hips jerk away from the pleasure.
“kook, mmph- yes! just like that,” you encourage when he wraps his lips around your clit. he sucks, soothes, and makes out with your messy cunt. he wanted to draw out the night longer, toy and dangle your pleasure in front of you as a punishment for your teasing. knows he’s the reason you’re this wet, can’t bring himself to edge you on a special night like this — maybe another time when he’s feeling more mean. he has all the time in the world with you; there’s no rush.
tonight is all about you, his girlfriend — his.
“so close, baby,” you look down, hips stuttering under his hold as he doesn’t let up with his ministrations on your clit. he trails his fingers at your entrance, coating them with your juices before entering you slowly.
“yeah? won’t you give me another one? come on, i know you can do it,” he says between bated breaths. you shake and arch your back, mouth parts open but no sound comes out as you let the waves of pleasure ride over. the squelching sounds increase as his fingers fuck into you faster.
“i-i’m fucking cumming,” you cry out and jungkook nods in acknowledgement, moaning with you to draw out your orgasm. when you come for the third time that night, he wants to paint the image in his memory and revisit it on a rainy day. no promises that he won’t sport a hard on every time. the sight of you quivering, hands squeezing your chest and rolling your nipples between your fingers to prolong the pleasure, has his head spinning. jungkook trails kisses down your pussy, takes his fingers out and licks them clean before spreading you wider to clean you up with his tongue. he only part ways with your cunt when you whine for him.
he comes back up your body slowly, presses his lips on your tummy and giggles when you squirm from the sensation. however, when he is finally face to face with you again, jungkook has on this determined look.
he can’t seem to get enough of you and your body. addicted, he is.
“you’re not done with me, aren’t you?” you give him that pretty post-orgasmic smile.
never, he thinks.
jungkook was about to reply until the rumbles of your stomach cuts through the silence. it should be embarrassing but you feel close enough to jungkook that you both laugh at how unserious the situation is.
“come on baby, let’s go eat our dinner.” he pulls you up and puts you in one of his oversized t-shirts.
you still believe your ideal neighbor should be mindful, quiet, and kind. jungkook was certainly not mindful, quiet, or kind with how he entered into your life.
though, he wasn’t just someone who’d be your neighbor by the law of attraction and the cosmic pull of the universe.
love is patient, love is kind.
you know you’ve found your home — you just never expected it to be right next door.
fin.
a/n: tadaaaaaa. what’d you think? 😜
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blockedbykei · 6 months ago
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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 !!
— haikyuu men as your boyfriend (ft. tsukki, tobio, hinata, kuroo, osamu, oikawa, & ushijima)
— a/n: in the midst of writing another fic (spoiler alert: it's kageyama), i've decided to rest my brain and give you an insight as to how the haikyuu men will be your boyfriend lol (lets pretend i didn't just insert my boyfriend's attitude in some of these dudes bc he is as sassy as tsukki and as obsessed with vball as kageyama)
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tsukishima kei
- the type of boyfriend to close his fist when you try to hold his hand
- pretends he doesn't know you when you do something embarrassing
- greets you like he's annoyed but he actually isn't, he'll give your forehead a kiss after
- he's very supportive of your clothing, wear a bra and an underwear wherever you go– he wouldn't care. but when he senses the crowd isn't safe, he would constantly remind you to put a hand on your chest when you bend, or put a hand on your knee when you sig
- he gets flustered easily when you giggle whenever you see him use his phone without glasses and look like this -.-
- everyone says he's shy when it comes to pda. and that is so true. he would hold your hand but most of the time, you wrap your hand around his fucking pinky. he would occasionally wrap an arm around your shoulders, or you'd wrap your hands around his arm. kisses in public are chastised into cheeks or temples
- whenever you fight and you go to your room to sulk alone, he walks in without knocking, scooches on the bed beside you, and spoons you. it hurts him to see you cry even if you don't see it in his face, and he'll hold you in silence until you've gathered the courage to face him and talk about it
- biggest gift giver EVER
- he would literally get you anything that you want. you send him a pic of a dress and tell him you want it? he'll buy it for you even if you don't tell him to
- remembers every date of a special occasion, like first kiss, when you said yes to being his boyfriend, all that stuff
- when you're together for a long time, you don't talk that much yet you do your hobbies together. not because nothing's new and fun anymore, but because you've gotten so used to each other that the silence between you was comforting and filled with so much love.
- when you do talk though, you'd think he wouldn't indulge in whatever topic you ensue, but he would actually talk to you like it is the hottest tea in the century
- is a small spoon when he's so needy
- because of his love for strawberry shortcake, he actually knows how to bake it. you have it every weekend. and if he isn't so busy, you'd have it everyday.
- he taught you how to bake it *swoons*
- he smells like strawberries because he uses your perfumes all the time
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kageyama tobio
- he smells the ball from far away
- like when you're both on a date or just hanging out outside, the minute he hears that exact sound of a volleyball bouncing on the ground, he will snap his head towards that direction
- LIKE A DOG
- i hc that he knows how to play the piano, so he has one in his room. when you hang out, you lay on the bed and he plays whatever song that comes into his mind
- he's so awkward even if you guys have been together for a long time
- on the court he's all badass but he's actually a loser LMAO
- biggest loser ever but he's so cute though
- like when he asked you out on a date, he was bowing and yelling "PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME" like he's so desperate and pathetic it's so adorable
- he's a good bf tho even if sometimes he's too preoccupied with volleyball. it's you above everything else so if you called him in the middle of practice, best believe he's running to you in a minute
- he's such a heavy sleeper. he sleeps with his eyes open sometimes and it creeps you out to wake up in the middle of the night with him staring at you with half lidded eyes
- when you fight he sometimes cries and will ask u to hold him
- doesn't know social cues sometimes you feel like you're mothering him but in a good way
- awkward kisser too sometimes he forgets to close his eyes
- when he takes a shit, it's always hard. like his poop is hard, so you hear him grunting in the bathroom
- he smells like metal sometimes but when he's at home he smells like markers its kind of addicting
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hinata shoyo
- fucking TONE DEAF
- sucks at cooking, prefers your food over anyone else's
- loves cuddling he's such a tiny clingy baby you just want to eat him up and keep him in your stomach
- when you're sad, he goes out of his way to make you smile, even if it includes him hetting hurt
- compliments you ALL the time like he's all "wow baby you're so good at this and that you're so amazing please marry me"
- sticks to your side at every social gathering and will hold your hand the whole time
- he will feel like a literal baby if you're taller than him, and he LOVES taller women i so believe that
- when a match lasts for more than 3 sets, hinata is extremely tired and will pass out the minute he steps foot into your home
- he smells really good, like his skin smells amazing
- will do skincare with u bc he's sometimes as overdramatic as you when he sees red bumps on his face
- loves to give and receive a massage
- he's so chronically online too bc he's influenced by kenma so he's always up to date with all the trends and music. but he's also incredibly stupid with technology
- his phone always overheats
- twitches randomly in his sleep and sometimes he's so messy in bed he ends up pushing you off
- loves to take baths with you and let you play with his hair hehe
- the softest boy ever too like you would both always have a kitten staying in your home until someone can foster or adopt them because there's always a lot of sick strays outside of your home
- has a sweet tooth. his favorite is cotton candy
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kuroo tetsuro
- he's actually emo sometimes
- sometimes because not only with his stupid bangs, but because when you're not giving him attention, he will play loud music that will get your attention, sit on the couch, and cross his arms and pout until you look at him
- he's one of those people that will get mad when you touch his hair
- smells like soap
- he treats you like a princess though like when he brings you to his parties he will bring you EVERYWHERE
- like a bodyguard too, will bring all your stuff even if they're heavier than his gym bag
- you're the one to always patch things between him and kenma when they fight because they're like literal children
- asks for your help to get kenma to eat when he plays too much
- a whiny bitch too like he's the type of person that's actually so clean so when he encounters a room that's dirty or a bathroom he thinks is too wet or has too much grime in the tiles, he will gag and pinch his nose (same goes for tsukishima)
- has a good sense in fashion, he dresses you A LOT
- puts your bag on your shoulder and scolds you like a mom
- scared of cockroaches
- literally would climb up a wall and sob when he sees one
- and he's such a good captain too like sometimes you'd see him talking to his teammates and give them advice outside of volleyball. he's their big brother
- he's your study buddy all the time. when he's not too preoccupied with volleyball, you're both studying together
- he cherishes your accomplishments and is always present at your events
- he's close with your friends that sometimes you see him playfully hump your boy-space-friends and moan like he's riding them
- used to be kenma's discord kitten too
- one time, in his drunken state, he showed you a picture of him and kenma in maid outfits during one of kenma's gaming streams, because they were both drunk and in lock down
- whenever you see the matches or hinata, tsukki, or kageyama, kuroo feels proud and tears up at how much they've grown
- loves kids. wants to plant a baby in you.
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miya osamu
- when you wake him up in the middle of the night and ask for food, he WILL cook for you
- smells like fried chicken but its alright it smells good either way
- when you go to work, he always packs your lunch
- when you fight, he knows just what to cook to cheer you up
- he loves food so much that you can't remember the last time you haven't eaten, because he ALWAYS feeds you
- when he cooks at home, he wears a pretty pink apron just for you
- listens to music when he cooks, and even when he showers too
- when you have a big social event, he'll volunteer to give a portion of food in your event or actually cater for them
- when he cooks something that you don't end up liking, he is DISTRAUGHT; will do anything for you to like it again because there's no way that he can't feed you something delicious
- sometimes, when atsumu comes over, they both play volleyball INSIDE the house and atsumu sometimes gets too much, but before you could scold him, osamu's already on his ass
- as aforementioned, always expect midnight snacks
- he's like that dude on tiktok who can make everything out of chocolate, except his is onigri. or, well, he can shape anything made out of rice
- one time, on your anniversary, you woke up to a rice shaped like a life-sized teddy bear and it was actually so cool
- you have your own spot in his shop
- and he actually let you design the blueprint for his shop because he wants it to be yours too :(
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oikawa tooru
- sometimes you don't know if he's your boyfriend or an opponent at a beauty contest
- he values skincare more than you do like he's buying face masks and exfoliators and everything and you caught him one time sleeping in one of those peel off mask things
- and he cries when you take off those peel off masks
- smells like rich perfume that hurts your nose
- but oikawa takes volleyball seriously. when he lost to karasuno, you caught him sobbing in his bed when you came to check up on him, and he let you hold him until he fell asleep
- that was also when he fell in love with you lol
- before you guys dated, you two were so close that tne girls actually stopped approaching him one time because they thought you were officially his girlfriend after he held your hand during a field trip to the museum because you almost got lost
- sometimes oikawa doesn't know who he's more scared of: you or iwaizume? bc both of you are always on his ass making fun of him and scolding him
- but he cherishes you so much though like he's treating you like his certified baby girl all the time— you're getting fucking princess treatment every single day. you don't remember the feeling of a bag in your hand because he's always CARRYING it
- oikawa is proud to take up the role as your assistant
- and he's also just as sassy as you are
- he's also rich so like you're always on adventures and on dates outside. but sometimes he likes to stay at home and cook for you even if it tastes like shit
- a jealous bitch
- one time a guy asked you for directions and oikawa told him to "turn right and then you'll see a mirror that tells you you're a piece of shit"
- you scold him after that. he doesn't care
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ushijima wakatoshi
- bad at social cues
- he's like an old man and you're his social media manager bc why is he texting everyone through EMAIL when sms exists already
- there was that time when he sent you a nude and it went "was thinking of you. I miss you — Ushijima Wakatoshi" AND LIKE??
- he's literally "i'm so happy for you" o_o
- and he is though its just that he's always so dazed sometimes you think he's a robot
- he's a living baby though like he's one to be honest about something that he doesn't realize what he says and you feel embarrassed for him too so you're just kind of like sweetly telling him that it's not nice to say that someone smells like cigarettes or that their breath stinks
- one time, when you and tendou surprise him, you're both caught off guard when he actually jumps– but the thing is that he accidentally hit you with his arm due to his reflexes and you swear you got a concussion after that
- he LOVES CUDDLES and he loves sniffing you and sometimes hes a sub
- smells like rich cologne that actually smells good
- takes you with him everywhere and he has to be with you all the time or else he'll cry his ass out
- decides to be matrilocal too and take your last name when you get married bc he just loves you so much
- before you guys got together, he was always so stoic and silent. and he's so silent that sometimes he suddenly appears in front of you and talks to you like he didn't just almost make you shit your pants
- he also doesnt switch out his phone so when you're in the year 2024, he still has an iphone 7 that's too big for his hand
- his bff is tendou so he's always at your home too and they're watching a bunch of animes and you're just sitting between wakatoshi's legs like you're his stuffed animal
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cheolhub · 1 year ago
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BABY FEVER — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL ࿐
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summary. after a picnic date at the park goes horribly wrong, all choi seungcheol wants for his birthday is to fuck a baby into you.
wc. 3.4k+
warnings. established relationship, kinda ? dom!cheol, f. reader, pussy-drunk-bitch-in-heat cheol, breeding kink, literal baby making, marriage kink if you squint, reader referred to as mommy (x2), unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), light body worship (f. receiving), vulgar language… heavy praise, pet names [baby, angel, princess] — MINORS DNI 18+
note. it’s an international holiday (aka cheol day) hehehe HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LVRBOY <333 forgive me bc this is actually so rough… i forced myself to finish it in time for his bday 😍 please be gentle!! i promise ill make it up to all of u with a MUCH better cheol fic -3- happy coupsie day 2 u all x (thank yew @jeonghantis for reading this for me TWICE and always encouraging me <3)
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you have to admit, this is not how you thought seungcheol’s birthday lunch would pan out. 
no, you definitely did not expect to end the day with your legs wrapped around your beloved boyfriend’s waist while he split you open on his cock, breathily promising that he’ll give you a baby. a ring. a life for the both of you.
because when you took said boyfriend out for a picnic in the park, you did expect a serene lunch date with him and his favorite food. you even wore the sundress he bought for your birthday. it was supposed to be the perfect gift. 
but you hadn’t realized how busy it’d be. how could you have known? it was just a random tuesday afternoon in the midst of august– arguably the hottest month of the year. who, besides the two of you, would want to be out on a day like this?
rowdy, unrestrained children. that’s who. 
it seems that children and parents have nothing better to do than crash birthdays and cause you massive headaches. 
when you looked over at seungcheol on the blanket halfway through your food, you discerned the faraway look in his eyes. he hasn’t said much. much less of how he feels about his “gift.” he wasn’t there– probably disassociated because of the noise. you realized then that you probably should’ve picked a different spot… or stuck to the homemade candlelit dinner you had initially planned. or done literally anything else. 
“cheollie… do you wanna leave?” you asked, concern laced in your voice. “we don’t have to stay, we can go home and do whatever you want.”
his jaw clenched and unclenched at the sound of your voice. he offered a shuddered breath and gave you a curt nod. “yeah, let’s go home.” 
and so you did. you felt defeated as seungcheol bruisingly gripped the steering wheel the entire ride home. you felt defeated as you sat in the passenger seat thinking of ways to fix his now-ruined birthday. you felt defeated as you two rode away in silence. complete silence. 
when you arrive back at your home, you dejectedly drop the basket off in the kitchen without bothering to unpack it. cheol stays on your tail the entire time, following you back to your room after throwing the keys on the island next to the picnic basket. 
and when you reach your destination, you let him in before closing the door behind you and then he pounces.  he has you pinned to said door in an instant. 
completely thrown off by his change in behavior, you splutter out, “ch-cheol, what the fuck?!”
“baby,” he mutters breathily, his eyes scanning your features. the faraway look in his eyes has been replaced, both of them filled with something completely different. lust. it’s like the last hour never even happened.
he has you caged in. one of hands pressed flat against the door and the other gripping your waist. there’s a mere inch of a gap separating the two of you and you can feel all the heat radiating off of his body. 
still wide-eyed, staring up at him, you softly– apprehensively– ask, “cheol? are you okay?” 
admittedly, seungcheol is not okay. not in the slightest. he doesn’t want to scare you, but watching kids run around– hearing how happy they were– had him thinking thoughts. thoughts of having a kid of his own. 
it had his heart fluttering at first, the idea of having a mini him running around the house. it filled him with the utmost joy.
then his thoughts escalated. thoughts of having a kid turned into thoughts of having a kid with you. thoughts of getting you round and pregnant with his child rotted large portions of his brain away.
and it progressively got worse and worse. with every passing minute, the images in his brain became more clear till the only thing on his mind was folding you in half and fucking a baby into you while you begged for it. 
he’s not sure how to relay said thoughts to you. the two of you have been dating for years and you’re in a really good place, both financially and emotionally.
but dropping the ‘i want a kid’ bomb? before he’s even proposed? it’s taboo…untraditional… it’s something you potentially don’t even want, so he should ease into the conversation of children and marriage.
but…choi seungcheol thinks he’s lost the ability to think and speak clearly. that’s why he blurts it out without logically thinking it over, lost in a haze of lust and need and burning hot desire. 
“wanna have a baby,” 
your stomach drops and the air in your lungs vanishes, leaving you breathless.
“w-what…cheol? a baby?” you ask slowly. “you… wanna have a baby?” 
a small growl bubbles in his chest when you repeat his words. “wanna give you a baby.” 
heat creeps up your neck and within seconds– when you realize the intent of his words– your entire body burns as arousal courses through your veins. seungcheol doesn’t just want to have a kid… he wants to fuck one into you. 
you can’t say you’ve never thought of having one before, but it was always farther down the line. after marriage and settling down.
even still, your stomach swirls in anticipation, imagining seungcheol as a father. as your husband. 
so you reply, “do… do you think we’re ready for that? we’re still pretty young and… we aren’t married…”
your words trail off and you look away, eyes trained on his chest instead. 
“i’m gonna marry you.” he says as a matter of factly. “look at me.” he demands, the hand next to your head moves to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “there’s no doubt in my mind. i’m going to marry you, baby.”
hearing that is surreal. he’s said it twice and the words are still rattling around in your empty brain. he’s gonna marry you. there’s no doubt in his mind. 
you’d think your heart is about to lurch out of your chest the way it pounds against your ribcage. your palms are dripping with sweat, your knees are buckling about ready to give out on you, your stomach is in knots because, fuck yes, you want this. you want him. and– you guessed it– you want to bear his child. 
you don’t know how long you’ve been standing, blankly staring at him. before you can even speak up, seungcheol is dropping to his knees in front of you, both of his hands on your waist now.
you almost think he’s going to propose, leaving you even more speechless, but he leaves a soft kiss on your tummy. he’s gentle, kissing you through the fabric of your dress right above your navel. his lips venture down, though, and his pleading eyes look up at you waiting for your okay. 
you let out the breath you were holding, nodding your head.
and cheol swears he would lose it if he hadn’t already. 
he reaches for your panties under your dress, yanking them off your body and letting them pool at your feet. his hand moves to hold your dress up, wrinkling it in his grip. the other lifts one of your legs and drapes it over his shoulder before he finally dives into your cunt.
“cheol!” you gasp as you feel his tongue lay flat against your folds. your hands thread through his hair, gripping at his locks as he laps up your arousal. “sl-slow– fuck, baby– slow down,”
seungcheol is a giver, that’s always been common knowledge.
but you tend to forget that he is exceptionally greedy when it comes to eating you out. he can never get enough of you, slurping at your hole and sucking your clit till you’ve cum countless times on his face. a glutton for pussy, you could say.
it’s why he can’t slow down despite your request. his tongue digs into you while he noses at your clit, moaning against your cunt to bring you closer to the euphoric feeling you’ve been craving since he asked to fuck a baby into you. 
and it works. it always does. your moaning and whining and begging and it’s fucking music to his ears. 
“tastes so good, angel,” he moans against you, words coming out muffled. the vibrations shock your body and you can’t help but jolt, back arching off the door. your hands tighten their grip on his hair, pushing him further into your cunt. 
and that’s the thing about seungcheol being insatiable. you always end up greedier than him. it’s like an orchestrated plan. 
“more,” you beg through a whine, grinding your pussy into his face. “please more, feels s’good, cheollie,” 
he groans against you again, digging his nails into your thigh eliciting your pretty mewls. he tightly wraps his lips around your clit, flicking the swollen bud with his tongue. you throw your head back against the door, eyebrows knitting together as you’re overcome with pleasure. 
it hits you before you can even blink. you’re letting out a breathless mantra of seungcheol’s name, your stomach knots up, your breathing increases and you completely lose control as you let go all over his face. 
he keeps eating you out, whining while lapping up your release as if he’d been deprived of the taste of your cum for weeks. as if he hadn’t eaten you out just last night. and the morning before that. and three times in a row the day before.
when he’s finally done, he gently sets your leg back down. he observes the way you tremble, struggling to keep balance so his hands are back on your waist, releasing the wrinkled fabric and letting it fall back over your legs.
he stands to his feet, towering over you once again. his hard cock strains in his jeans and he gives you a look that screams ‘i need you’ to which you look up at him with hooded eyes. the sheen of your arousal on his skin, his disheveled hair is quite the sight.
“baby…” he pants, inching closer to you. 
“put one in me,” you whisper. you, too, have no doubt in your mind about this. about him. you want everything he’s offering to you. “fuck a baby into me, cheol, i want it. i want you.”
seungcheol thinks his life flashes before his eyes when he hears your words. he thinks, maybe, he mishears you for a second, but when you keep that expectant look on your face, he knows that this is very real. that he’s gonna fuck you full of cum and pray it takes. 
he closes the gap between you, pressing his lips against yours.
it’s not your average kiss. it’s hot and heavy and, fuck, you think he just might eat you alive. his body is flush against yours now and you feel his bulge digging into your tummy. 
feeling him like this has you craving the weight of his cock on your tongue, but you know cheol has no plan of relinquishing any type of control tonight. even if it does mean he’s missing out on the world’s best head.
you kick off your shoes and fumble with the button on his jeans while whining into his mouth. you eventually give up after the button doesn’t budge, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against his clothed bulge instead, basking in the way he groans back into your mouth.
he pulls back, swollen lips turning down in a cute pout, “baby, need to fuck you right now…”
you tug at his shirt, whispering, “then fuck me, cheol.” 
a guttural groan bubbles in the back of his throat. he pulls your dress up by the hem, growling a soft, “off.” 
“you first.” 
he raises an eyebrow at you but doesn’t say anything else, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it on to the ground. his hands are back on your dress, but you shake your head. 
“pants, too,” you whisper with a cheeky smile. 
“didn’t realize this was a strip tease,” he grumbles passively, stepping out of his shoes while his hands easily pop the button of his jeans and yanking them down his thick thighs. 
your eyes flit down to his boxers and your saliva pools in your mouth, threatening to spill past your lips at the mere sight of his clothed hard-on. 
he interrupts your gawking, gruff, stern voice filling your ears, “take your fucking dress off.”
you giggle, raising your arms. he’s not slow and he’s most certainly not gentle when he practically rips the dress up and off, discarding it into the pile of clothes that lay haphazardly on the floor.
he doesn’t even give you a second before grabbing– manhandling– you and guiding you to the bed. 
he lays you down and internally melts. “you’re so gorgeous, baby,” he mumbles, spreading your legs open and eyeing your pulsing cunt. “you’re perfect.”
you don’t know how it’s possible at this point, but you grow even hotter. feverish. you always love his praise and you know he’s well-aware of the fact because he smirks as you squirm and clench around nothing. 
“cheollie,” you whimper. 
his hands splay over your bare stomach and his cock throbs as an array of dirty thoughts re-enter his mind. 
“you’re gonna look so cute when i put a baby in you, isn’t that right?” he murmurs, hands ghosting over your skin before they land on your tits, fondling them through your bra without a care in the world. “gonna be such a pretty mommy…” he tells you, voice dropping an octave. 
you moan at the contact and his promiscuous words. arousal drools from your hole, surely soaking a puddle into the sheets under you. you’re not sure how much longer you can wait for him to impale you on his cock before you become a weeping mess. 
you whine, eyes threatening to close, “please make me a mommy, cheollie.”
seungcheol lets out a sharp breath, quickly removing his hands from your tits, opting on using them to push his boxers down. 
when his length slaps against his abdomen, he lets out a soft groan. he doesn’t wait for anything else, grabbing his cock, spitting on it, stroking it a few times and, finally, pushing his angry red tip against your hole. 
when the head of his cock gets trapped between the warm walls of your cunt, seungcheol curses. “tightest fuckin’ thing,” he mutters, shoving himself deeper and deeper, listening to your high-pitched whines and whimpers. 
and when he’s finally balls deep inside of you, his eyes flicker up from your pussy swallowing him whole to your contorted, fucked out face that he loves dearly. 
he’s breathless, asking, “you good, baby?”
you offer a broken nod and a weak, “s’good.”
it’s all he needs to hear before standing all the way up on his knees, grasping at your waist, and lifting your lower back off the bed. 
you squeal, “cheol! what are you–” 
you’re cut off by your own yelp when he pulls out and slams back into you without much of a warning. his cock reaches deeper than you think you’ve ever felt and it has your eyes rolling back and your hands pulling the sheets off the bed. 
his hips are relentless, continuously driving his cock in and out of you at an impressive speed while groaning out words of praise. you feel his tip bruisingly kiss your cervix and the pained pleasure brings tears to your eyes. 
“s-seungcheol–” you sob, arching further into the air. 
“i know, baby,” he moans in response. “but, fuck, you’re taking it so well. look so fucking pretty taking my cock like this.” he wants to throw his head back in pleasure, but he can’t bear to tear his eyes away from you. 
tears helplessly fall down the sides of your face and your mouth is cracked open, letting out the most gorgeous sounds. your tits spill from your bra, bouncing with every thrust and it’s too good. you look too fucking good. 
and you’re going to look even better with his cum leaking out of your cunt. 
you ache with the partial bridge seungcheol has you in. you’re not sure if you want to focus on the profound pain or intense pleasure, but when he drops your body back on the bed and his thumb catches your clit, you have no other choice. 
you gasp, crying out and clamping around him with an iron grip, “fuh-fuck! cheol– cheollie!”
he growls, rubbing the sensitive bud faster and faster. “you gonna cum for me?”
you pant, chest heaving as you nod your head vigorously. your eyes screw shut and your jaw drops further as you feel the familiar knotting in your tummy. your impending orgasm bubbles in the pit of your belly, a stream of whines and moans leaving your mouth. 
“cum f’me, angel.” he coaxes breathily, cock twitching and throbbing inside of you. “s’gonna feel so good, just cum for me.” he practically begs and you think it’s because he’s just as close. 
you can’t even find it in you to care because the onslaught of pleasure wracks your body. you clench around him once, twice, three times– and, before you know it, the knots in your tummy come completely undone and you’re left a shaking mess under him.
“that’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” he nearly whines, fucking you through your orgasm while you jerk and thrash on the bed. “god, i love this pussy, your body, everything, baby– i love you.”
you cry, silently praying he’ll press his lips against yours because, god, you love him, too. so much. but your voice is hoarse and you don’t think you can conjure up the words to give him. 
it’s like he reads your mind, slipping his hand in between your tits and pulling your body up by the material of your bra and wraps his arms around your body. his mouth presses against yours, swallowing all of your sounds as you swallow his. 
your arms wrap around his neck, sobbing in overstimulation as he kisses the life out of you.  when he pulls away, you wrap your legs around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into his lower back. you continue to whine, burying your face into his sweaty neck to muffle the noises. 
he holds you tighter, pounding into you without any regard to your sounds. “gonna fill you up, princess. gonna fuck you full of my cum, give you a baby, marry you,” he grunts loudly. “everything. gonna– fuck– gonna give you everything.”
you nod, sinking your teeth into his neck. 
and seungcheol can’t hold back, moaning your name before pressing his cock as far as he can go and stilling there. ribbons of his release coat your bruised walls and you feel the warmth radiate throughout your body. 
cheol’s pants slowly morph into breathy chuckles as he comes to terms with what he’s done. 
you shudder, feeling full in more ways than one. you pull your head from the crook of his neck, looking at his gummy grin and dazed eyes and you give him a lopsided grin. you look so content, even after he nearly fucked the life out of you. 
“was it too much?” he asks gently after a few minutes of silently staring at each other.
“a lil…” you whisper, weakly clamping around him. “you know i love it when you get like this, though.”
“i know.” he mumbles, unraveling himself from you to marvel at his work. he pulls out of you and watches the way his cum slowly dribbles out of your hole. he can’t help but groan at the sight. “you think this’ll be enough, angel?”
“a few more rounds probably wouldn’t hurt.” you giggle. 
“that can probably be arranged.” he hums cheekily. “but, seriously, baby. thank you… for today. you always know how to surprise me.”
“really? i kinda… thought you hated the whole picnic lunch date,” you murmur. “thought i ruined your day.”
“no, baby, i loved it.” he says through a smile, kissing the corner of your mouth. “it was great, i swear… i just thought about fucking a baby into you a little too hard.”
“i’m really glad.” you smile, “and, now that you hopefully did… how would you rate year 28?”
“10/10. truly the best birthday ever.” he says. “i got everything i ever wanted.”
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© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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rinasauruss · 1 month ago
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magnetic mishap | bucky barnes
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summary: you bought magnets for Bucky's arm, forgetting that vibranium is not magnetic
warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, gn!reader, drunk!reader, alcohol consumption, tears, bucky in love™ (if i missed any pls lmk!)
word count: 0.8k
A/N: (i'd previously posted this on another account but i decided to just post it here instead, so if you've read this before, pretend like you didn't :P) i saw a post about this and i couldn't help myself! this is my first ever bucky fic! i hope i did him justice :) English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammar/ spelling mistakes. feedback is appreciated!
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The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the floor lamp casting a warm ambiance. Bucky Barnes sat on the olive-colored couch, resting his head on the taupe throw pillows you'd fawned over at the flea market, obsessing over the embroidered leaves on the pillows, exclaiming how well they'd match with the couch you'd bought when you first moved in the apartment. That was a memory he was fond of. It was after your first year together- when you moved in together, deciding to look for apartments in Brooklyn.
His legs were propped up comfortably on the other end of the couch. A copy of The Hobbit you gifted him sat in his hands, his eyes flitting over each word, totally engrossed in the worn-out book with deckle edges and a spine that can barely hold up itself he'd read many times.
He looked up from his reading as muffled giggles and the clinking of keys sounded from outside, along with a few curse words as you tried to fit the keys into the lock. After a minute or so, the front door creaked open, and in you came, a stumbling, drunken mess. Bucky's heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, his heart constricting at the bright look on your face as your eyes zeroed in on him.
"Hi, baby!" You called out, your voice slightly slurred with the telltale signs of a fun night out with your friends.
Bucky closed his book, placed it on the coffee table, and waited for you to reach the couch, a smile spreading across his face. He loved these moments- when you returned home all giddy and carefree. You were a ray of sunshine, lighting up his dark, lonely world.
"Hey, sweetheart," Bucky replied, his voice filled with affection, and adoration, as he watched you walk towards him. His eyes were twinkling with love as you finally reached him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, guiding you into his lap, and you immediately snuggled up, like it was second nature for you- which it was. "You had a good time tonight?"
You nodded enthusiastically, your head all but bopped up and down and swayed from side to side, your face flushed. "The best time! We danced, and- and we... oh! I have something for you!" You reached into your purse, retrieving a small package wrapped in colorful paper.
Bucky's curiosity was piqued as he took the package from you, carefully unwrapping it, and revealing a set of magnets. His eyes widened in surprise. "Magnets?"
You nodded again, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "For your arm!" Your words slurred slightly as you laughed, your intoxication making the idea seem absolutely brilliant.
You took out a heart-shaped magnet, trying to stick it on Bucky's arm, to no avail. It kept falling; you huffed, annoyed, and took out another magnet from the set, this time, one shaped like a rocket ship. Aggravation was quick to take the place of your excitement when it kept falling as well.
Bucky chuckled softly, his heart melting at your drunken enthusiasm. He glanced down at his vibranium arm, knowing that the magnets wouldn't stick, he felt kind of guilty having to break the news to you. "Doll, vibranium isn't magnetic."
Your smile faltered, and your brows furrowed in disappointment. Your intoxicated glee quickly transformed into genuine heartbreak, as tears welled up in your eyes. "I... I didn't think about that," you murmured, voice laced with sadness and disappointment.
Bucky's heart ached at the sight of your distress. He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped. "Hey, hey, it's alright," he whispered soothingly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You didn't know. It's the thought that counts." 
You sniffled, lower lip trembling. "But I wanted to your arm to look even cooler. Imagine how cool it would look with magnets, Buck." 
Bucky's heart swelled with love and adoration. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing at your antics. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you sighed at the feathery touch of his lips, seemingly content for the time being. 
"I love you, Bucky," you whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, your eyes shimmering with affection.
"I love you more than words can express," Bucky confessed, his voice filled with sincerity.
At that moment, everything else faded away. Sat in Bucky's lap, wrapped in his arms, your love for one another radiating throughout the room. 
"C'mon," Bucky ushered, "let's get you to bed, honey." His voice was gentle.
"Next time, I'm getting stickers," you mumbled to yourself, a very serious look on your face.
Bucky smiled blissfully, a blush adorning his face. As he held you, he knew that his love for you was unbreakable, even in the face of small disappointments. Your bond was stronger than any magnet could ever be.
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i hope you liked it, pls let me know what you thought of this. likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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machveil · 3 months ago
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Simon “Ghost” Riley Fic Recommendations🎀✨
this post will contain sfw and nsfw content - nsfw below the cut! please support the writers!! they deserve a lot of love for sharing their fics with us<3 comment, reblog, and like their posts - there are over thirty (30+) authors here! I feel like I assembled the Simon Riley writers Avengers haha
SFW:
from our lovely @dmitriene, domestic kisses with Simon
@go-go-gadget-autism kindly gave us SuburbanDad!Simon
@manicrouge wrote water gun training with Dad!Simon, Dad!Simon and his nails, and Dad!Simon drawing
wonderful @ink-n-shadow wrote SoftDad!Simon
@novasintheroom gave us body comfort with Simon
@drop-cherries wrote birthday comfort with Simon
@sunni-stuff wrote Simon gifting you a sketchbook
a fun one from @feralforfrank, TikTok binge with Simon
@starsofang wrote a cute fic about LittleSpoon!Simon
@qwimblenorrisstan wrote about cuddling with TF141 (+ Roach)
@lxvvie graced us with blowing raspberries on Simon’s tummy
@fishsinsareacknowledged wrote Simon staring at you
@gothghostiie gave us Simon taking care of his sick little
three sweet fics from @urmomschocolatemilk - TF141 with a Reader that likes coloring books, Biker!Simon, and AnimalLover!Simon
@ghostsangel wrote QuietYapper!Simon, low-key really funny
@the-palelady posted this Simon coded video
a personal favorite author, @writersdrug posted Bartender!Simon taking care of mean customers - from their collective Bartender!Simon works!!
and, to end off on wedding bells, @the-whispers-of-death gave us slow dancing with Simon
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please make sure to read content warnings (CW) and/or trigger warnings (TW)! your comfort comes first, check the fic before you read it<3
NSFW:
rounding back to dmitriene!! Simon creaming your pussy, Simon eating better, and Simon’s jeans
back at it again with ghostsangel - catching Simon’s eye and Simon playing with you
@void-my-warranty blessed us with OlderBF!Simon waxing you
four fics from @nighttimealone - oral with Simon, waking up before Simon, reader living with the 141 men, and GymOwner!Simon
@gazlightmehardergazzy wrote about TF141 and their favorite positions
followed up by @devil-in-hiding with goofy moments during sex with TF141
@amaranthinespirit gave us soft oral with Simon
our lovely @evilgwrl wrote Munch!Simon, Simon popping a boner, Possessive!Simon, somno with Simon, and period sex with Simon
@feralgoblinqueen wrote Simon giving oral
@moldycigarette gave us a little size kink
@last-starry-sky also giving us some Short!Reader
gothghostiie, back again, with SoftDom!Ghost
very sweet, @sherriesherbet gave us rough and tender Simon
@skyrigel wrote Simon fucking you dumb
back to writersdrug, a fan favorite, Bartender!Simon getting off
@sunsetsimon popped off and wrote BlueCollar!Simon
a handful of fics from @simonsrileyhusband - Simon x Glasses!Reader, one more Glasses!Reader, cnc and somno, PervyNeighbor!Simon, and PervyBF!Simon
reblogged from a deactivated account, MeanBF!Simon
@konigslittleliebling wrote a stunning piece on Simon getting a noise complaint
to contrast that, @bi-writes wrote Mute?Simon
a blog that specializes in fics and links, @codnasties gave us a video exchange with Simon, cnc, driving Ghost, and a size kink
and, icing on the cake, @tacticalprincess wrote Ghost and König
888 notes · View notes
blog-o-meter · 1 month ago
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Room 5 - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader
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summary: (Y/N) escapes to a quaint little hotel by the beach for a few days. On the first night, she realizes that the hot guy in the neighboring room is a... loud guy, and she finds that she can't seem to escape him no matter where she goes.
warnings: 18+, voyeurism (auditory), self-masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v, cursing
required listening: 24 Hours by Sky Ferreira
word count: 17,415
a/n: sorry this one is so long (compared to my other fics), but I just had too much fun writing this one. I honestly could've gone writing more. If anything, I can just add on, but I think I wrapped a nice, little bow on this one. I hope you guys like it, and I would appreciate any and all feedback!! pls enjoy :) edit: I continued the story in a sequel of sorts, which you can check out below!
Making Room (Part 2) | Room On Fire (Part 3) | Room To Breathe (Part 4)
reblogs and likes are appreciated and lets me know if you'd like to see more!
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The boutique hotel looked absolutely adorable, white brick on the outside and only two stories — a tiny café and gift shop downstairs and the rooms up top, just steps away from the ocean. It sat between two tall condo buildings, which mostly housed an older crowd of out-of-state tourists.
I was in search of the perfect place for a weekend getaway, and this place seemed to check all the boxes. It wasn’t near any of the busy beach accesses where all of the rowdy high schoolers seemed to hang out at, and the pictures of the café seemed like it was straight out of an interior designer’s Pinterest board. This place, The Pearl, seemed perfect.
Actually, I had been looking forward to this weekend for a long while, having booked this trip about a month ago. Funnily enough, I lived just 30 minutes away from the beach but never had the time to just get away for a couple of days — until now.
After I checked in, I carried my weekend bag and backpack up the narrow staircase to the second floor, the wood creaking underneath my sandals. When I turned on the mid-level landing, that’s when I heard a second set of footsteps coming down from above. I turned my head up, my eyes falling on the drop-dead gorgeous man carefully shuffling down the steps.
Our shoulders brushed as I squeezed by with my luggage, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver that branched out from where our arms grazed.
“Sorry,” I whispered without missing a beat.
The guy smiled politely as he turned his head back, his big, brown eyes inviting, “You’re good.”
My heart skipped a beat hearing his warm, low voice. The stranger was ridiculously attractive, his muscles bulging out of the wife beater covering his torso, his tousled brown hair elegantly falling over his eyebrows. His smile, though, was what made my skin prickle — a wide, genuine grin that showed off his perfectly white teeth behind his pink lips.
I returned a polite smile, continuing my journey up the stairs before he could notice my blushing cheeks. When I arrived to the top of the landing, I saw that the second floor was T-shaped, the rooms in ascending order the further I walked down the hallway.
I turned the corner, immediately sensing the change in atmosphere compared to the row of rooms I had just passed. This section of the hallway seemed much more secluded, quiet, possibly because, indeed, it was in its own corner of the floor away from all the other rooms.
I passed by the one other door in the hall, reaching my room — 6 — at the end where a singular window accented the softly-lit hallway. Setting my bags down, I fumbled for my phone, scrolling through my text messages with the hotel manager for the code to my door. I appreciated the fact that the rooms had a code to enter instead of a plastic key card that I could lose in the sand.
As I input the code into the lock, the wooden staircases creaked as a set of footsteps became louder and louder making their way toward me. It was the same handsome man I had brushed shoulders with earlier, a backpack slung over his shoulder as he approached the only other door, room 5.
Our eyes met briefly, a flicker of recognition in his. “Good night, neighbor,” he said with a slight nod, that same smile that made my chest warm flashing across his face as he made his way inside his room, the heavy door falling closed behind him.
I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. What are the odds the hot guy and I were staying next to each other? 1 in 5 it seems.
Shaking off the butterflies fluttering around my stomach, I finished inputting the code and dragging my bags inside the freezing room, stopping to admire the details of what my hard-earned paycheck had managed to spoil me with. The room was quaint, a neutral island color palette — the large bathroom and queen-sized bed to my right and the 70” flatscreen tv and closet on the shared wall to my left, a built-in marble counter all along the bottom.
The bathroom was my favorite: an art-deco flair with hints of coastal influence. The full shower was astounding in the best way possible — a beautiful mosaic pattern along the whole wall, double shower heads on opposite ends, and with enough space to possibly fit maybe 5 people. I could literally walk about ten steps between the two shower heads.
I walked back out to the room, setting my bags on the counter and starting to unpack, not in any particular rush to venture outside. As I organized my stuff — bikinis, pajamas, toiletries — I turned on the tv, flipping through channels and settling on HBO, Black Swan playing a few minutes in.
Enthralled by the movie and remembering I had a few snacks in my backpack, I changed into my pajamas and dug out a box of Lady Godiva chocolates from my backpack, climbing into bed and stretching out my arms and legs, excited to start my weekend getaway.
At some point, I had drifted off with a chocolate in my hand only to be awoken by a sound. I didn’t know what it was at first, choosing to ignore it and keeping my eyes closed, hoping I’d drift back to sleep. But it persisted, and it wasn’t a sound I had expected to hear — a woman’s moans.
My eyes fluttered open, thinking it might’ve been coming from the tv. After all, Black Swan did have a sex scene. However, I found the tv to be off. Maybe I had forgotten I turned it off myself before drifting off to sleep. Then, a low, drawn-out groan rumbled through, clear as day.
Oh.
Oh.
My cheeks flushed, burning at the realization of what I was hearing. I mean, I know a boutique hotel might not have the same amenities as a more established hotel chain, but you’d think thicker walls would have been a forethought. How could somebody planning to open a hotel not have thicker walls?
Again, I heard the moaning, and there was only one other room in the hallway that they could be coming from — room 5, the hot guy. I sat up in bed, heart pounding as I processed what was happening in the room behind the tv. The sounds were so clear you’d think they were having sex in the hallway.
In fact, I thought just that. There was no way that was happening right? I walked up to my room door and carefully peeked my head out, finding the hallway empty.
I retreated back into my room, my heart racing. Any other person would’ve probably turned the tv back on, or put on some headphones, something to block out the sounds, but what I did, I couldn’t tell anyone else about. I stood frozen, listening. I listened past the rhythmic porn-like moaning of the faceless woman, instead focusing on the low rumble of the hot neighbor guy’s voice.
The closet that shared a wall with his room beckoned my name, tempting me to inch closer. Before I knew it, my bare feet were shuffling toward the closet door, quietly swinging it open. The space was small, just big enough to fit a luggage rack and a few hangers up top, but the rhythmic thumping and guttural groans just behind the plaster called out to me.
Carefully, I leaned over the luggage rack, pressing my cheek against the cold, white wall. Every sound was clearer now — the creak of the bed slowing to a stop, the huffing coming from my neighbor, and the yelps coming from the mysterious lady. I could even make out some words.
“Bend over,” my neighbor spoke, his voice deep and seductive.
My stomach twisted hearing him speak in such a commanding yet intimate manner. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that a stranger so polite in passing could be so primal behind closed doors; though, wasn’t everyone?
“You’re so huge, Nicholas,” the mystery lady spoke back.
I know I shouldn’t have been listening, but I was just so enthralled. Did they know just how thin the walls are, assuming they’d block out most sound like I did? I couldn’t imagine someone knowing the walls were thin and still choosing to have sex, especially knowing there was an occupied room next door.
The plaster was cool under my cheek, refreshingly so as I could feel myself becoming warmer and warmer. The sounds of their erotic encounter seemed to vibrate through the wall, through me. Without noticing, I had squeezed my thighs together, my hand finding its way at the band of my pajama pants. As soon as I felt my fingertip slip under my underwear, I was jolted out of my trance. What was I doing?
Before I could feel any more guilty for lingering longer than I should’ve, I pulled myself away from the wall and scampered back toward the bed, choosing to ignore what was going beyond next door, my heart racing. Grabbing my headphones from my nightstand and slipping them on, I threw myself into the sheets and turned on my white noise playlist. But as much as I forced myself to focus on the therapeutic noise, my imagination wandered, picturing the faces my neighbor — Nicholas — might be making right now as he pleasured the woman accompanying him. Before I knew it, though, I had managed to fall asleep.
In the morning, I made my way down the staircase to the hotel’s tiny café, eager to start my day with a light, sweet breakfast. As I descended down the last few steps, I looked over to the sea of tables, hesitation in my heels as my eyes landed on Nicholas sitting by his lonesome as he enjoyed a cup of steaming coffee in one hand and a beat-up book in the other.
Swallowing the thought of what I did, and listened to, last night, I walked past him and approached the café counter, the smell of warm croissants and muffins enveloping my nostrils, a temporary distraction that I was grateful to experience.
“Hi,” I politely smiled to the employee, “Can I just get an Italian crème croissant with a hot green tea, please?” I quietly asked, not wanting to interrupt the quiet, calm atmosphere for the patrons of the café. 
The barista nodded her head, inputting my order into the tablet register, “We’ll send it over to your table,” she smiled.
I slipped her the money for my breakfast, smiling, “Thank you so much,” and making my way through the slew of empty tables.
I settled in at the corner table on the opposite end of the room, wanting to be as far away from Nicholas as possible to avoid any awkward conversations. Though, I may have chosen the worst table for my plan, accidentally giving myself a clear, unobstructed view of Nicholas from across the room.
His hair was damp, not purposefully styled in any particular way but still somehow falling over his eyebrows in such a perfect manner. He wore a loose flannel with a few buttons loose, the shirt billowing open to tease just enough of the gold cross chain draping over the sculpted valley between his chest.
He hadn’t noticed me yet, completely enthralled by what he was reading — Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller. I was stunned by his choice of literature. There was an old fellow a few tables down reading the newspaper to get his local news, meanwhile this guy, Nicholas, was probably on some page where the author is describing, in excruciating honesty, a night he had with a prostitute just as easily as one could describe their morning routine. In a way, I was impressed, curious.
As I waited for my breakfast, fiddling with my fingers, occasionally looking at my phone, my eyes would glance over toward Nicholas, my gaze lingering just a beat too long. The way he achingly turned the page, the tip of his finger playing at the corner of the paper, or the way he’d carefully bring the mug of coffee up to his lips — it was all so titillating.
Thankfully, though, the barista came over with a small pot of piping hot tea and my croissant, interrupting my trance and carefully setting down the items in front of me. Just as she left, my eyes flickered up to Nicholas to find that he had glanced up from his book, a polite smirk at the corner of his lips when his eyes met mine, lifting his mug in a silent, “Cheers.”
Not sure if I should wave or say hi or flash a toothy smile, I settled for a polite closed-mouth smile, lifting my mug back at him before quickly focusing my attention to the food in front of me as my cheeks grew warm. The greeting wasn’t graceful at all, but how could I focus on being graceful knowing I eavesdropped on his privacy just last night? If I was awkward at all, I figured it was my subconscious trying to punish me.
I served myself some tea and picked at my croissant as I looked out the window to the occasional family or couple walking down the street, all carrying their beach items and taking their time to get to the sand. I’d even glance around to the other patrons at the café. Though, I think part of me wanted to see if any of the girls would join Nicholas at his table and reveal herself to be the high-pitched moaner from last night. However, nobody ever did join him. Was he here alone? Or maybe she had taken the morning to be by herself.
Every impulse in me was begging me to take just one more look at Nicholas, to savor his image one last time, but I fought it. Everything except anything in Nicholas’s direction became intriguing to me. The checkered tile on the ground, the promotional poster on the window that I could barely read because of the sunshine striking through it, the older fellow enjoying his newspaper — I didn’t think I’d find myself focusing on the details of such things trying to avoid the gaze of some guy I had talked to for no more than 10 seconds, maybe less.
When I finished up, I quietly tidied the table, collecting all of the dishes and brushing off any crumbs, making my way out of the café and toward my car.
The breeze was refreshing, a nice whisper against my cheeks. I opened the trunk, staring at all of the beach gear I had to carry by myself. It was a struggle, but I managed to carry everything in both my arms — umbrella, picnic, basket, beach chair, headphones, blanket — using every crevice of my upper body to anchor something to me so it wouldn’t fall on the way over.
Thankfully, the beach access was right next to the hotel, and the path to the open sand wasn’t too long. When I got to the end of the path, I was grateful for having woken up early for the opportunity to pick a spot in an otherwise empty beach, a few umbrellas and chairs here and there from the condo occupants. I chose a spot that didn’t have any people too close by for maximum relaxation, carefully setting everything down on the sand.
I stabbed my pink, frilly cabana umbrella into the ground, laying out my beach blanket and beach chair in the shade, sliding everything else onto the corners of the blanket so the breeze wouldn’t pick the fabric up and blow sand toward me.
The water was calling my name, the light green water perfectly sparkling against the morning sun. But before I could strip my clothes off and jump in, I looked around to see if anybody would be looking as I pulled off my clothes. I didn’t see anybody particularly interested in my arrival, so I quickly pulled off my jean shorts and tee to reveal my glittery brown bikini set underneath. Before I became too hyper aware of my body, I walked toward the water, instead letting the feeling wash over me just as the waves of deliciously cold seawater did.
The occasional squawk of seagulls, the sun warming up my skin as it rose higher and higher in the sky and the sound of the waves crashing was all perfect. This moment was all I wanted out of this weekend. No distractions, no work — just me and the ocean. Needless to say, I was very excited to be able to repeat this routine for the next couple of days. 
I continued walking into the water until I was chest-deep to let the ocean devour me whole. The feeling that a wave could crash over me entirely was exhilarating. The water slowly picked me up by my feet as I hopped around.
I lingered for a few more minutes in the water, splashing water around or searching for little fish before stepping back out once my fingers started to wrinkle. As I strutted out of the water, though, I saw the familiar shape of somebody relaxing in a chair just a few feet next to my umbrella — Nicholas.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, he was a guest in the hotel, too, after all. Why else would someone book a room in a hotel by the beach if they wouldn’t find themselves relaxing in the sand? But did he have to set up next to me when there was an entire football field of available space?
Meekly and careful not to trip or stumble on the way over, I walked toward my umbrella, fighting the urge to steal a glance at Nicholas, but from the corner of my eye I could see he sat there with his chest exposed. I had to let myself give in; what was the harm in a little peek?
He sat reclined in his chair, his skin deliciously glistening under the killer sun as he took it in. His hair was lightly brushing across his face from the sea breeze, like Mother Nature herself was playing with his hair. Nicholas’s long legs stretched out in front of him, his feet digging slightly into the sand. Both hands rested lazily on the arm of the chair, open. It was like he wanted to take up as much space as he could. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes; I couldn’t tell where he was looking or if he was looking anywhere at all. He radiated a kind of tranquility, as if the ocean had washed away any burdens he carried, something I hoped to experience myself this weekend.
I realized I was staring, my breath caught somewhere between awe and curiosity. I darted my eyes away, afraid I might be caught, which is absolutely the last thing I want.
Growing cold from the breeze brushing my wet skin, I grabbed my towel, drying myself off and squeezing the water out of my hair, mindful of turning myself from Nicholas so as to not flick any water droplets his way or have him think I was trying to grab his attention deliberately. Maybe he just sat there without knowing he had set up next to me. After all, I was in the water this entire time.
As I settled in, I brushed my wet hair over the back of my chair and reached for my picnic basket, pulling out my headphones, sunglasses, and my current read, White Oleander. I didn’t want to distract myself with any energetic music, instead opting to listen to the White Oleander movie soundtrack for the perfect accompaniment to the book.
I read through the chapter I had left off in, but I found myself having to reread some paragraphs, even entire pages, every time I saw Nicholas shift in his seat from the corner of my eye every few seconds. Even the way he jittered his knee up and down was distracting, almost like he wanted to grab my attention. After some minutes, he stood up from his chair, letting out a groan as he slowly stretched his arms and walked toward the water, and I silently thanked the universe for finally letting me have a few minutes to myself.
Though, I couldn’t help but occasionally glance up from my book to observe Nicholas in the water. The sun accentuated his muscles in an almost picturesque way, the stark shadow falling under each crevice of his body perfectly. He cut through the water like a knife as he walked deeper and deeper in the water, splashing water over his chest and shoulders, eventually dipping himself under the water to wet his hair. When he reemerged, the surface broke with a powerful splash, Nicholas throwing his head back and brushing his hair back with his hands.
Shaking myself out of Nicholas’s trance, I buried myself back in my book, trying not to look back up to him and letting myself get lost in the story, and for a while, I did. However, the universe seemed to like playing cruel jokes. About two chapters later, a shadow crossed my face. Curious to know if it was a bird or somebody’s umbrella flying away, I looked up to find Nicholas standing in front of me with a small grin.
“Good book?” He asked, drying his hair with a towel.
Shocked, I almost couldn’t form any words, but I managed to spit out a normal-sounding sentence, “Uh, so far, yeah, but I’m more familiar with the movie.”
“I’ve never seen it,” he confessed, dragging the towel up and down his dripping torso, almost deliberately. “Do you recommend it?”
I was quiet first, trying to clear my head of any thoughts of the night before that kept replaying in my mind. My eyes drifted up from his torso to the smile on his face, his straight white teeth in full show. Thank god I had my sunglasses on
“Totally. The dialogue in that movie is…” I trilled my lips, searching for the right word, “poignant.”
“Sounds raw,” he threw the towel over his shoulder, resting his hands on his hips, his lat muscles flexing outward like wings. “Is it your favorite movie?” He asked as he sat down in his chair, shifting until he found a comfortable position.
“One of,” I replied, turning my head to face him.
“I’ll check it out then,” he smiled, grabbing Tropic of Cancer out from under his chair and spreading it open.
“There’s a movie on that one, too,” I pointed to the book in his hands.
“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow, looking at the cover of the paperback, like he had forgotten what book he was reading. But then, a cheeky grin grew on his lips, “Did you like it?”
I couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle, knowing what Nicholas had meant. “I wouldn’t know; I’ve never seen it,” I smiled, turning my head back to the book in my hands, having almost forgotten about it.
All I heard back from him was a quiet chuckle before he settled back into his chair, the both of us reading their respective books.
After a half hour, I tossed the book and my sunglasses back into the basket and walked out over to the water. I paused at the dry edge of the sand, letting the water nip at my toes, trying not to picture Nicholas behind me. He could have been glancing at me as I made my way over, but he could also be looking at the sky, or the book in his hands, or maybe even his phone. As much as I wanted to peek over my shoulder, I continued forward, letting the sea swallow me.
I lingered, brushing my fingertips over the surface as I planted myself in knee-deep water, clutching the sand underneath my toes as it dissolved under me. As the water hugged my calves, I searched the water for anything I could find — maybe a lost pair of sunglasses, some little fishes, or maybe a conch laying at the bottom of the ocean floor. To no avail, I slowly started to retreat from the water, picking my head up to find Nicholas was looking forward, hiding behind his sunglasses again.
I didn’t let the fact he was looking over to my direction affect my ability to walk properly. After all, he could be looking past me. Maybe under those sunglasses he had his eyes closed. I wouldn’t know. However plausible any of those situations were, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.
Upon approaching my chair, I wrapped myself in the damp towel, deciding that my time at the beach for today would be over for now. Slowly, I started to pack up my things, but I honestly didn’t know how I was gonna carry everything back now that I was damp and shivering. I tried juggling some of the things in my arms, but occasionally something would slip from my grasp. I really tried not to seem so helpless, but when the umbrella slipped out from under my arms with a loud thump, I knew keeping up that ruse wouldn’t work.
“Need help?” I heard Nicholas’s voice behind me.
I turned around, catching him push his sunglasses to the top of his head to show off his crinkled eyes, smiling. It seemed to be more from amusement at watching me struggle, not smiling from politeness.
I struggled to hold onto everything in my arms, “No,” I shook my head, laughing nervously. “I mean, I managed to bring everything over in the morning.���
An exhale escaped his lips before he tossed the book to the sand and stood up from his chair, making his way over with a satisfied look, “Let me help.”
I bit my lip, debating if I should let him help or to just push him away so I wouldn’t have that constant reminder of hearing him have sex in my head. Before I could answer, though, Nicholas grabbed the beach chair out from under my arm and picked the umbrella up off the floor.
“Thank you,” I mumbled as I adjusted the remaining items in my arms, now much more manageable without having to carry the bigger things.
“No problem,” he spoke in a low tone, that same tone I overheard when he said ‘Bend over’ to the woman in his bed last night.
My breath caught in my throat. Suddenly, I felt inexplicably warm, like the back of my neck was on fire. His expression was soft, casual, like the same man I had run into in the hallway yesterday, not at all like the man I heard in his room in a false sense of privacy.
We walked back toward the hotel, the sand kicking up behind us with every step. I was too afraid to say anything to him at all after remembering the way he spoke to his late night companion.
“So, are you from around here?” He spoke up, his voice cutting the tension that only I seemed to be aware of.
“Kind of,” I replied, hiding my face behind my damp hair, “I live 30 minutes out. I just came here on a solo-trip for a few days to escape. You?” I didn’t expect the question to slip from my lips, but in a way, I guess, I wanted to coax information out of him. Maybe if I knew more about him, that pang of guilt in my stomach would leave on its own.
He stifled a chuckle, “Not at all. I’m from Colorado, actually.”
I raised an eyebrow, surprised at the answer, “Wouldn’t California beaches be closer to you, maybe even look better than this old shore?” I looked back out into the beach, admiring its charm, but even then, I know it wouldn’t compare to a California beach.
“Actually, I live in LA, so I go out there all the time. I guess, I just wanted to visit a different place,” he answered.
I was surprised at his honesty, but I scoffed, not believing that any person from out of town would want to come here willingly, “Well, you picked a different place, indeed. Not much goes on around here, except when it’s spring break.”
Nicholas stifled a warm chuckle, “Yeah, I think I read that online.”
A part of me wanted to prod. Was he single? Who was that girl from last night? Another guest? The only appropriate question that I could think of that didn’t sound too suspicious was, “Are you here on a solo-trip, too?”
He nodded his head, “Yeah, I do a lot of solo travel. There’s a certain freedom in not having to worry about anyone else except yourself.”
I glanced over to him and saw a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he looked over to me. Something fluttered in my chest, or maybe it was just the droplets of water trailing down from my head.
“Sounds liberating,” I managed to spurt out before the long pause became too awkward.
“It is, but sometimes it’s nice to share it with someone else, even for a little bit,” he said, his words hanging in the air.
I didn’t dare reply. I wasn’t sure if he was alluding to our current moment or maybe to the similar encounters of last night he has with women during his trips. Of course, there’s no way he’d know that I knew what he did behind closed doors, but what if he did?
“Yeah,” I absentmindedly agreed to his statement, eager to cut the conversation short.
We arrived at my car. I opened the trunk with my keys that were in my picnic basket, watching as Nicholas bent over to place the umbrella and chair inside, then grabbing everything from my arms and setting them beside each other, closing the trunk.
“My name’s Nicholas,” he held his hand out for me to shake.
That’s when I realized that he had never introduced himself. The only reason I knew his name was because I had my ear pressed against the wall just as his lady friend from last night had moaned it out of her lips.
I hesitated for just a fraction of a second before breaking through that one-sided tension and reaching out to shake his hand, his warm palm sending a shiver up my arm, “(Y/N),” I introduced myself, meeting his gaze for a second or two before looking down at my feet.
“Pretty name,” he smiled.
Blushing, I shyly said, “Thanks,” retreating my hand from his grasp and whipping back a strand of wet hair behind me.
Nicholas lingered a moment longer, the soft curve of his smile inviting me to hold his gaze. “Any chance you’d wanna get a drink later?”
I blinked, my mind scrambling for a response as the question hung between us. This stranger, Nicholas, was never meant to be more than just some nameless blur that happened to also be a guest at the same hotel I was staying. We were only supposed to bump into each other a few times in the hallway, never going into conversation and being fine with that. Now, here he was, asking me if I wanted to have a drink with him.
I kicked my feet nervously, looking down, afraid to look him in the eye as I turned down his offer, “Actually, I have plans.”
His brow lifted slightly, an amused look on his face. “Solo plans?” he asked, clearly poking fun at my earlier words.
I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, despite my nerves. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Fair enough,” he said, his tone casual but with a glimmer of understanding. “But if you change your mind…” he leaned in the tiniest bit, some tiny droplets from his hair dripping onto my skin, “you know where I’m staying,” a mischievous smirk at the end of his lips.
I felt my stomach jump at his words, catching the double meaning. He lingered a bit too long, like he was testing me, before he pulled back, still smirking.
I nodded, “Yeah, I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
I watched as he walked past, sauntering back toward the beach. The way his shoulders shifted as he walked, relaxed yet deliberate, made it impossible to look away. The nerve of him, the audacity to be this calm, this magnetic. Maybe it’s because I’m never forward with people I just met, especially if I think they’re attractive, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the swagger Nicholas oozed. It was like he was aware of the effect he had on me.
Desperate to wash away the sand in my crevices, I trotted toward the hotel entrance, going up the stairway and to my room. I felt relief when the cold air of the room hit my face, pulling my hair away from the back of my neck so the air could creep its way and bring some relief to my flustered self. My head buzzed, replaying anything having to do with Nicholas — the way he dried his towel in front of me, his soft chuckles, even the way he walked.
Get it together, (Y/N). He’s just a guy. Just a guy you won’t see ever again after this weekend. Ever.
I sighed, dragging myself to the shower and stripping the wet bikini off my body and letting it fall to the floor without a second thought.
I was grateful the shower was huge, that way I didn’t feel as suffocated with the warm water steaming up the glass. However, each time I closed my eyes to let the water fall on my face, all I could picture was Nicholas’s charming smile, all I could hear in my head was the way he said ‘Bend over’ to the girl in his bed last night, and suddenly, I could feel a tension pool low in my belly.
Fed up, I turned the faucet knob to cold, shuddering and gasping loudly the moment it fell down my spine. It might’ve been drastic, but it did help. All I could focus on was trying not to tremble under the cold stream of water enveloping me instead of focusing on a certain man.
Once I was done with my shower, I wrapped my hair and body in a towel each, padding out into the cold room, my ankles shuddering at the cold floor beneath me. I changed into a casual set of clothes, thinking I’d probably go out for a walk later. As I dried my hair with the towel, I made my way over to the window, looking out toward the beach to see Nicholas still lounging out in the sand. He was splayed out on the chair, legs wide open as he leaned back and looked out into the water.
Tired of my mind drifting to him, I jumped into bed and put on my headphones, opening up Hulu to catch up on shows. Before I knew it, hours had gone by and it had become nightfall.
I walked to my luggage resting on the built-in counter, zipping it open to pull out a bag of chips I had bought before arriving. That’s when I heard a light knock on my door. I froze at the sound, too scared to shuffle over and check who it was.
“(Y/N), you there?” I heard Nicholas’s voice call out. I didn’t answer, standing still, my heart almost pounding out of my chest. “If you are, I’m heading over to the bar across the street, if you wanna join me,” he calmly spoke through the door, his voice cool and collected.
After a bit, I heard his feet shuffle away, becoming fainter and fainter. I still didn’t dare move an inch, paranoid he might’ve pulled a fake-out and is actually still standing outside my door. I sat on the counter, debating his invitation, but I decided against it. I’m not exactly sure why; any other girl would already have been out the door by now. I just had to trust my gut on this.
Later that night, at about 1:30AM, I found myself still awake, quietly scrolling Instagram on my phone. That’s when I heard the loud giggles of a woman outside in the hall, followed by a deep shush, the giggles falling to a quiet mumble as I heard a door open and quickly fall closed. I ignored the sounds, continuing to scroll and catch up on posts I missed during the day.
Some minutes pass by, about 10. That’s when I heard the bed on the other side begin to thump against the wall, a lady slowly starting to moan. The moans sounded different, belonging to another woman. Then, the all-too-familiar grunts coming from Nicholas started to join in.
I couldn’t reach for my headphones to drown out the sounds of sex coming from the other side; my headphones had died just 30 minutes earlier, now charging on the outlet above the counter. Tossing and turning in bed, I burrowed myself under the covers, hoping it would make some barrier, but to no avail.
Irritated, I walked over to the counter, checking to see if my headphones had any juice that I could use even for just a few minutes until I fell asleep. Just as I reached to disconnect them from their charger, that’s when I heard Nicholas’s voice rumble through the wall.
“You’re so hot,” he said, his tone thick with pleasure.
I stood there frozen, my hand still hovering over my headphones. The more I heard Nicholas speak, the more I found myself inching closer toward the closet. My heart was racing, beating faster the moment I opened the closet doors, carefully stepping inside and resting my cheek against the shared wall.
I knew I shouldn’t have been listening in, again, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was this urge that I had to follow through with. I closed my eyes for a moment, listening past the girly moans and searching for Nicholas’s voice. My chest grew tighter, my thoughts beginning to spiral.
“Just like that,” he growled.
Had I said yes to drinks, would that have been me in there? Would I be the one moaning under him instead of the mystery girl inside? My stomach tightened at the thought, frustrated. I’m not sure why I was letting it get to me like that. Maybe because hindsight is always twenty-twenty. But just knowing that it might’ve been me Nicholas said all those things to had I just agreed to drinks… It drove me crazy.
“Say my name.”
My body tensed at his words. Somewhere between spiraling and intrigued by the events happening on the other side, I had closed my eyes, achingly moving my hand to my shorts, slipping it under the waistband. What if I just pretended it was me he was saying all those things to?
I clenched my teeth, feeling a heat bubbling low in my belly as it slowly rose up to my chest. The sound of Nicholas’s voice; he sounded so close yet we were separated by this thin wall. It was maddening. I slipped my fingers under my underwear, grazing them over my damp self. I covered my mouth with my other hand, proactive about not wanting to be heard from the other side just as I heard them.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Nicholas groaned on the other side.
My breathing became deep, my nostrils pushing out all the air that couldn’t leave my mouth. As my fingers found my throbbing bud, I quietly whimpered out, pretending Nicholas was saying those words to me. I rubbed myself in small circles, bucking my hips into my fingers.
On the opposite side of the wall, Nicholas’s groaning had become guttural, primal. The more the headboard thumped against the shared wall, the more powerful his movements had become. At one point, I thought something might fall off the wall from my side of the room.
As I slipped a finger, then another, inside myself, my breathing became erratic. I imagined Nicholas taking me, right now as I am, hard at the thought that I had been listening in on his sexual escapades. Maybe he’d push me up against the wall, cornering me so that I might not escape him. He seems like the type to want to be in control, and I’d be happy to give it to him.
I pumped my fingers slowly, at first, but then picked up the speed to match the thumping on the wall. The tension in me began to build tighter and tighter. I was so close to collapsing in pleasure, but the moment I heard a loud moan escape the woman’s lips from the other side, I was taken out of my imagination completely, remembering that it wasn’t me he was having sex with.
My eyes ripped open, realizing what I had been doing. I pulled my fingers out and collected myself, shamefully walking out of the closet and reaching for the headphones on the counter. I couldn’t believe that I had been pleasuring myself to the sounds of somebody else having sex. Even more embarrassingly so, I didn’t even arrive to a climax, so I couldn’t even say it was worth it.
I climbed back into bed, trying hard to ignore the sounds coming from the other side and slipping on my headphones, putting on anything that would distract my mind.
The next day, I didn’t wake up as early as I had liked. I ended up falling asleep pretty late, almost 2:30 in the morning, which was not my usual bedtime, clearly. But it was 12PM, still enough time to enjoy a light brunch before officially starting the day.
I changed into some loose clothes, making my way down to the café. Even though I felt guilty about last night, I felt ok enough to confidently walk into the café knowing Nicholas wouldn’t be there. Either he’d be too tired from his late night drinking and stayed in, or he would’ve started his day earlier and already had his coffee for the day. And when I entered the area, I found myself to be correct. He wasn’t there.
Comfortably, I ordered the same meal from yesterday, a croissant and a pot of tea, taking my seat at the same table. What can I say, I’m a creature of habit. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Almost as soon as I sat down, the barista came over with my things, setting them down with a polite smile. Tired and hungry, I pulled a chunk out of the croissant and placed it into my mouth, savoring its sweet taste. I enjoyed my first meal of the day calmly and slowly, relaxed to know I wouldn’t bump into Nicholas right now. Maybe I’d have a few hours to myself before I did. But of course, my peace was short-lived.
As I picked at my food, the front door to the hotel chimed. I was too focused on pouring myself the last few ounces of tea into my mug to look up, but I didn’t have to. A familiar presence approached my table, “Mind if I join you?” Nicholas asked.
I looked up, my eyes locking onto his. He had that oh-so charming smile plastered on his face — innocent, as if he wasn’t the one partially responsible for keeping me up late.
“Sure,” I said, pulling the pot away from my mug.
He pulled up a chair from the neighboring table, sitting down across from me while his gaze flickered down at my half-eaten croissant. “You like taking your time, don’t you?”
I felt a rush of heat creeping up the back of my neck at his casual teasing. He was wearing a faded tee, not from age but one that looked like it had been drying out in the sun too long, his gold cross chain hidden under the collar. I’m sure he looked good in anything he wore.
“Don’t you?” I asked without missing a beat.
Nicholas stifled a smirk, tapping his finger against the table, “So what’d you do last night?”
I almost choked on my own spit at the question, clearing my throat. Dear god, please let me not stumble over my words. “Not much, why?”
He sharply inhaled, like he was unsure if he should answer, “I had knocked on your door to invite you out to the bar again, but you didn’t answer.”
I stifled a chuckle, shrugging my shoulders, “Why? Were you afraid I was doing something better?”
Nicholas’s fingers played at the edge of my plate, smirking. “I figured you were out walking or something,” he smiled.
“Well, I planned to,” I picked at my croissant, ripping off a tiny piece and placing it in my mouth, “but I ended up staying in.”
“Oh? You stayed in?” He shifted in his seat, thinking about his next words. “Sleeping?”
I calculated my answer. I didn’t want him to be embarrassed about the fact that I could hear him having sex the past two nights. “Yeah, early night,” I kept it short, hoping he’d drop the subject or, at least, change the topic.
I wasn’t sure if he believed me, but I didn’t care to elaborate. His presence was disarming enough without dredging up last night’s… intrusive thoughts. Instead, I took another sip of tea and focused on not meeting his gaze.
“So, then why’d you come down here so late in the morning?” He asked, a grin playing at his lips.
I stumbled on my words, trying to find an answer, Nicholas becoming more amused and entertained the more I stumbled. Was he waiting around for me? Did he know his proclivities had kept me up? Did he know I could hear through the walls?
“Lazy morning,” I shrugged my shoulders. He stifled a chuckle, accepting my answer without too much kickback. “What about you?” I asked, turning the tables on him. “What did you get up to last night?”
His grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew sharper, and he leaned forward just slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Me? Nothing much,” his finger twiddled near my croissant, pushing around the tea spoon next to it, “I had a drink or two. A little company.” His eyes flickered up to meet mine.
I swallowed hard, the tension between us thickening. His choice of words hung in the air, deliberate and calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing dangling that tidbit of information in front of me, seeing if I’d bite, but I wasn’t going to.
Taking a sip of my tea, I pretended to brush off his words, “Sounds like you had fun,” I spoke casually, keeping my expression neutral.
Nicholas tilted his head, watching me closely. “I would’ve had even more fun, but I had some plans fall through,” he paused, “I had to improvise.”
Oh, the calculation in his words were driving me mad, especially because I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of baiting a specific reaction out of me. Was I right? Could that have been me in his room last night if I decided to go out with him?
I set the cup down as calmly as I could manage, but inside, I was shaking, “Doesn’t seem like you had any trouble improvising, then.”
For a moment, Nicholas’s fingers stopped tapping against the plate, that infuriating smirk returning. He leaned back into his chair, amused, “You heard, didn’t you?“
My eyes nearly fell out of my head, but I tried to keep it cool, "Heard what?"
His laugh was soft but full of certainty. "Come on, (Y/N). I heard you watching a movie the other night. These walls,” he gestured lazily toward the ceiling, “are paper thin; it was like I was in your room watching it with you.” He leaned toward me, resting his arms on the table again, “That’s why you woke up late, isn’t it?"
God, I wanted to shrivel up and die right then and there. It was absolutely infuriating how he could figure me out so easily. But my suspicions were confirmed — he did know, this entire time, and he still decided to have loud sex knowing anybody in the neighboring room could hear. And he had no shame about it!
My face burned with embarrassment, and l avoided his gaze like my life depended on it. "I didn't hear anything," I stammered, lying so poorly I might as well have just admitted the truth. “I’m a deep sleeper.”
Nicholas tilted his head, that insufferable smirk deepening. “A deep sleeper, huh?” His voice dripped with amusement. He rested his chin in his palm as he studied me like I was some kind of puzzle. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”
My grip tightened on the edge of the table, desperate to regain some semblance of control.
“For what it's worth...” Nicholas pushed back his chair and stood, smiling down at me. He leaned down toward me, his tone softening just enough to send a shiver down my spine. "If I'd known you were listening, I might've put on a better show." He took a small bite of my croissant, dusting the crumbs off his hands and making his way toward the door, winking at me before he exited.
Unable to fathom what had just happened, I stayed planted in my seat. Did he seriously just say that? My thoughts spiraled. Was this a game to him? Could he tell just how truly flustered I was by his teasing? Was I really that easy to rile up?
I pushed my plate and mug away from me, hoping to regain some space to avoid feeling suffocated by the remnants of his presence that Nicholas had left behind in his wake. And yet, I couldn’t deny the pull he had on me. No matter how hard I tried to push it down, to deny the heat in my cheeks and the butterflies in my stomach, it was there. Nicholas was under my skin.
I tried to avoid running into him the rest of the day, to suffocate him out of me like one would a parasite, but to know you’re avoiding someone, you’d have to be on the lookout, on your toes. Every corner I turned, I checked to see if he was there. Every room I entered, I scanned around looking for his distinct tousled hair. On the beach, I hid behind my sunglasses, scanning the shore for the familiar build of him. Finding him nowhere, I relaxed a bit, choosing to free myself and going for a short walk along the water.
I let the water lap around my ankles, rhythmically enveloping them as I slowly walked along the borderline empty beach. I picked up a few shells that caught my eye — only the colorful, unique ones. In fact, I kept walking, walking, and walking until it became evening, the sun setting over the beach, slowly but surely.
I returned to my spot, sitting back and admiring the colors of the sky. In fact, I was so relaxed, huddled under my towel, that I may have yawned once or twice. As I continued to look out into the horizon, I felt a cold tap on my shoulder, turning my head up to see who was interrupting my moment of relaxation. Of course, by now, I already knew who.
Nicholas stood there, towering over me with a pair of beers in his hand, holding one out for me. “Pretty, right?” He asked with a smile, looking out into the purple water.
I glanced at the beer in his outstretched hand before shifting my gaze to his face, the fading sunlight casting an orange glow over his sharp features. I kept my expression neutral, taking the beer from him without a word. He took that as an invitation to plop down in the space next to me, stretching his legs out and taking a sip from his can.
We sat there in silence for a while, the only sounds being the gentle crash of waves and the occasional chatter of distant beachgoers. It was… oddly peaceful, almost enough to make me forget about the tension that seemed to follow us — or should I say, me — like a shadow. Maybe, also, because I was a little sleepy.
“So, did you find what you were looking for today?” Nicholas asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”
“You were walking up and down the beach for hours,” he said, motioning toward the small pile of shells I’d collected.
My mouth grew to a smile, cocky, “You were watching me for hours?”
For the first time, Nicholas stammered on his words, and it was a sight I was incredibly amused by. His head fell as he chuckled, maybe flustered that I had finally caught him in a moment instead of the other way around, “Yeah,” he nodded his head, his cheeks pink, “I was.”
I couldn’t help the smirk tugging at my lips. Watching him falter, even slightly, was a rare treat, one I planned to savor. “I can see why you like pushing people’s buttons now.”
“I don’t like pushing people’s buttons,” he said as he brought the beer to his lips, “just yours.”
It was insane just how quickly Nicholas could turn something back onto you. The admission was so casual, yet it hit me like a rogue wave. I stared at him, half-expecting him to laugh or brush it off as a joke, but he simply leaned back on his hands, eyes on the horizon like he hadn’t just set my pulse racing.
“I’m sure you say that to all your company,” I turned to face the water, sipping on my beer and trying to hide my flushed cheeks. I chose my words carefully, wanting to see how’d he react.
Nicholas let out a low chuckle beside me. “I don’t,” he said simply, his voice drawing me in despite myself. “Only you.”
I stole a quick glance at him, but he was already looking ahead, the way his profile caught the last rays of the setting sun, casting long shadows across his features. There was something magnetic about him, and the more time I spent around him, the more I couldn’t ignore it. He was confident, teasing, but there was something underneath, something deeper that made it hard to read him completely.
A part of me wanted to challenge him, maybe even keep him on his toes. But there was another part of me, the part I kept hidden, that wanted to give in to the tension, to see where it could lead. My mind raced with the possibilities, each thought contradicting the last, until I was sure I was overthinking every moment, every word we exchanged.
I cleared my throat and shifted my position in the chair, facing toward him completely. “Indulge me. What makes me so different that you just can’t help but push my buttons?”
He smiled, like he had an answer prepared since the moment we met, “You don’t give in easily, but you seem like the type to give yourself completely once you do.”
Nicholas’s words lingered in the air, making my pulse quicken. It was strange how effortlessly he could unravel me with just a few words. I tried to maintain my composure, but the quiet between us seemed to stretch longer than I was comfortable with. His words felt like a challenge,  but also like a promise. My mind kept drifting back to the night before, to the sounds of him on the other side of the wall.
“I’m not so sure about that,” I replied, keeping my voice steady, though it didn’t quite mask the undercurrent of uncertainty I was feeling.
Nicholas raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he shifted closer. “Really? Because there’s only so much pressure somebody can take before they start to crack.”
I wanted to say something sharp, something that would put distance between us, but his confidence was suffocating, almost intoxicating. I couldn’t seem to gather the words to shut him down. So, instead, I took another long sip from my beer, pretending to focus on the view ahead of me, though my mind was anything but at ease.
His smile widened, “Aren’t you cracking?”
For a moment, it felt like time stopped. The world seemed to fade into the background, and it was just the two of us, sitting there in the fading sunlight, with nothing but the sound of the waves and the sudden weight of his words hanging between us.
I cleared my throat, finishing my beer, “I don’t think so,” I said lightly, trying to mask the effect his words had on me.
“We’ll see about that then,” he finally said, his voice low and casual, though I could tell there was a hint of challenge in it.
I was almost afraid to look at him, afraid of what I might see in his eyes. But I couldn’t help it. Slowly, I turned my head, and our eyes met, the connection between us palpable. My head slowly started to move forward by itself, millimeter by millimeter, toward Nicholas. My heart raced faster and faster, it was practically thumping out of my chest when I realized that he was leaning in, too. Right as I was about to close my eyes to welcome whatever was about to happen, I heard a group of people loudly laugh as they passed by behind us. I quietly chuckled to myself, thinking that may be my cue to leave.
Satiating my dose of Nicholas for the day, I dusted myself off and stood up from the beach chair, handing him my empty beer bottle, “I guess we will,” I said, not too much of a challenge behind my words. I grabbed my chair and looked back at Nicholas with a friendly grin before walking off.
I couldn’t shake the feeling of Nicholas’s eyes on me, but I powered through, making my way to my room. The second I entered, I went to the bathroom and stripped off my sandy clothes, turning on the shower to warm myself up from sitting in the cool, evening breeze. The hot water streamed over my skin, washing away the lingering chill from the beach. I let out a deep breath, closing my eyes as the steam began to fill the space.
My mind wandered back to the conversation with Nicholas. His words replayed in my head, their weight sinking in a little deeper with each memory: We’ll see about that.
After my shower, I slipped into a cozy tee and shorts, feeling a bit more grounded. I sat by the window, towel drying my hair, watching the moonlight dance on the water. The calm of the night settled around me, but my mind was still restless.
To distract myself, I turned on the tv, not caring what was on but making sure to keep the sound at a reasonable volume to not disturb Nicholas but just loud enough that I might not hear tonight’s mystery woman moan through the wall.
As the night stretched on, I tried my best to focus on the random show playing on the screen, but my thoughts kept drifting. Every sound outside my window, every muffled thump from the hallway, made my heart race just a little faster thinking it might be Nicholas arriving to his room.
The hours ticked by. I hadn’t heard anything from his side of the wall yet — not a voice, not the creak of a bedframe, nothing. It was almost worse than the alternative. The anticipation was maddening. I half-wondered if he knew I was waiting, if he was deliberately drawing this out just to mess with me.
Finally, around midnight, I heard the faintest sound of a door opening and closing. My stomach twisted, though I wasn’t sure why. I told myself I didn’t care, that whatever he did wasn’t any of my business. There were a few thumps followed by a silence on the other side. I tried to focus on the tv but my ears seemed to be tuned in on what was going on the opposite side of the wall.
Minutes passed, and the silence persisted. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Nicholas had turned over a new leaf tonight, or maybe he just couldn’t hook himself a lady tonight. But just as my focus started to drift back to the tv, the silence was broken by a clear, unmistakable groan — Nicholas. I half-expected it to be followed by the high-pitched moan of a woman, like it was both nights prior, but it never came. 
I should’ve turned the volume up, drowned it out, or grabbed my headphones. Instead, I sat there, frozen, as the groaning grew louder — his voice, unmistakable and far too close for comfort. I hated how my body reacted. The heat in my cheeks, the way my chest tightened with every noise, the throbbing sensation between my thighs. I shook my head, trying to dispel the thought, but I let my curiosity get the best of me.
I slid off the bed and crept toward the closet, my heart pounding in my chest. My rational side screamed at me to stop, to mind my own business, but something about the sound of his voice pulled me in. But the little devil on my shoulder told me that I had already eavesdropped twice before, what’s one more time?
Opening the closet doors quietly, I leaned over the luggage rack and pressed my ear lightly against the cool surface of the wall, listening. The groans continued, low and guttural, accompanied by the light sound of a rhythmic wet slapping, sending an uninvited warmth through my body. It took a moment for me to realize there was no second voice, no telltale feminine giggle or breathy gasp. It was just Nicholas.
My breath caught in my throat. He's alone. The realization sent a shockwave through me, equal parts relief and something else I didn't want to name. He wasn't with anyone tonight. He was... taking care of himself.
I pressed my forehead against the wall, closing my eyes as his voice — raw, unguarded, and achingly intimate — filled my ears. My hand instinctively moved to my chest, clutching the fabric of my shirt as I fought the conflicting feelings that raced through me. However guilty I felt for listening in, I couldn’t pull myself away. I was entranced.
His groans deepened, interspersed with uneven breaths, and I felt my knees weaken. It was maddening how his voice seemed to reach right into me. My lips parted slightly, my breath shaky as my body betrayed me, responding to the sounds with a heat I tried desperately to ignore.
The wet slapping quickened, a whimper escaping his lips followed by erratic heavy breathing. I lost all inhibitions, slipping my hand under my underwear. I exhaled shakily, my head resting against the wall, feeling the vibrations of his voice travel through me. My fingers moved instinctively, slow and hesitant at first, matching the rhythm of the sounds spilling from him. Each groan, each sigh seemed to draw me deeper into a haze I couldn't escape.
My mind was a mess of contradictions: shame, desire, and something more dangerous — an unspoken connection, even if he didn't know I was there. I bit my lip, trying to stay as silent as possible, but the tension within me built with each passing moment, threatening to undo me entirely.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” Nicholas quickly whined out, followed by a loud moan.
I slipped my other hand under my shirt, kneading my breast, as my fingers worked my throbbing clit. I felt the rapid beat of my heart as it matched the rhythm of his breath. The heat between my legs intensified, and the sound of his voice grew louder in my ears, pulling me further into the spiral. His groans were rough, almost frantic now, and I could feel every pulse, every heavy breath reverberating through the wall like it was echoing through my very bones.
I tried to focus, tried to pull myself out of this situation before it became something I couldn't undo, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't pull away, couldn't shake the pull of him. I closed my eyes tightly, my fingers rubbing harder against my clit in frantic circles, then moving them lower and slipping my middle and ring finger inside of me. Desperate, I pulled my shorts off me, letting them land at my feet.
My own breathing became erratic, escaping through my nostrils as I tried to keep myself from making any sound, biting the inside of my cheek and shutting my eyes closed as I pleasured myself.
His voice broke through the haze of my thoughts again. "God... need you..."
The words, the desperation in them, sent me into a frenzy. I couldn’t hold in my voice any longer — a quiet, whimper escaping my lips as I pumped my fingers inside me, pretending they were Nicholas’s. I could feel the tension in me coiling tighter and tighter the more I heard him talk through his pleasure.
A high-pitched groan slipped out of him, the wet slapping quickening even more. I could almost picture him on the other side — laying down in the middle of his bed, shirtless. his legs dangling off as he tugged at himself, his eyes shut as he grabbed at his hair, giving in.
My breath hitched at the vivid image in my mind. It was a dangerous thought, but one that I desperately wished I was there to see.
I could almost hear the strained breath in his throat, as if he was on the edge, about to break. The thought alone sent an electric charge through me, spurring me to move faster, my fingers pressing deeper, matching the intensity of his own rhythm.
"Please," he moaned, his voice broken, raw with need. "Fuck..."
The vulnerability in his voice, so exposed, so real, made me lose all control. I found myself unable to think or reason anymore. I was lost in him, in the sound of his pleasure, and in the dangerous path I was walking.
His voice faltered, his groans growing more frantic, and that's when I felt it — the sudden wave of warmth, the rush of sensation sweeping over me. But just as I was reaching my peak, so was he. Nicholas let out a sound so intimate and raw that it sent a shiver down my spine. Then came a low, guttural groan followed by the unmistakable — my name.
“(Y/N)- fuck!”
It happened just as I was about to reach orgasm, but I was so startled to hear my name that my eyes shot open and I stumbled back from the wall, knocking over the luggage rack below with a solid thud as it tipped over. I tried to catch it before it hit the floor, stumbling to reach for it, but my effort was for naught. A deafening silence filled the room after the loud noise quickly settled. The only thing I could hear was the loud thumping coming from my chest, becoming faster as I realized my predicament.
My breath came in shallow gasps, my body stiff with tension, caught somewhere between shock and embarrassment. On the other side of the wall, there was a beat of complete silence. I held my breath, waiting to hear something — anything — but nothing came. Not a footstep, not a sound. My mind raced, praying that Nicholas might’ve not heard the ruckus through his climax. Don’t orgasms dull one’s senses?
And then, as if the silence was suffocating me, I heard it. A faint creak — Nicholas’s door, opening then closing with a heavy thud. My chest tightened, anxiety coursing through my veins. I stood there frozen, my legs completely unable to move as if I had stuck them in buckets of cement. I felt every inch of my skin burn with humiliation. That’s when I heard a knock at my door, not light like the day before. It sounded desperate. I couldn’t run; I couldn’t hide. Nicholas knew I was in here.
Slowly, I inched closer to the door, my hand trembling as I reached for the doorknob. I tried to swallow my nerves, but I couldn’t fight the fact that I felt like I wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I breathed heavily as I opened the door, clutching at the edge as my eyes fell on Nicholas’s heaving bare chest.
He stood there, his chest rising and falling, glistening from the thin layer of sweat that he had worked up. A slight satisfied grin played on his lips as his eyes trailed down my body, lingering on my bottom half as I stood there in nothing but my shirt and lacy underwear.
He didn't wait for an invitation, stepping inside as soon as the door cracked open, closing it behind him with a deafening click. We stood there, facing each other, the silence hanging thick in the air. I could barely meet his gaze, my cheeks still burning with humiliation. I stammered, hoping to explain myself with a pathetic excuse of a reason, but he interrupted me with a quiet shush, still smirking.
He placed a finger gently over his lips, his eyes dark with something unreadable. "No need to explain," he whispered, stepping closer, his presence dominating the space between us. My breath hitched as he closed the distance, cornering me against the wall, his body heat enveloping me, making my pulse race.
The air felt thick, suffocating, as if the room was closing in on me with every breath. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn't quite figure out what to do with my hands, so I held them behind my back, pressing them against the wall.
“Were you listening in?” He asked, brushing his hand up my sides before it settled on my hip, my body trembling under his touch. It was everything I wanted him to do to me, and yet, I still felt nervous under him.
Too ashamed of myself to open my mouth to answer, I nodded my head hesitantly. Nicholas's smirk widened, but there was no mockery in it. No teasing. His hand slid to my chin, tilting my head up so that our gazes locked. There was no escape now — no way to hide.
“I hoped you were,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, sending shivers down my spine. His thumb traced the line of my jaw slowly, deliberately.
He was so close now that I could feel his breath against my skin, and I was painfully aware of how badly my body was reacting to him. His thumb brushed over my lips, and I instinctively parted them, my breath hitching as his gaze softened, darkened. I could feel the tension between us, so thick that I could almost taste it.
His other hand slid around to the small of my back, pressing me into him, the heat of his body sending waves of electricity through me. His eyes never left mine, and I could hear the rapid beat of my own heart in my ears, drowning out everything else.
Nicholas murmured, his voice dark and full of intention, "Did you enjoy what you heard?" His fingers tightened ever so slightly on my waist, as if testing my response, and I couldn't help the small, almost imperceptible nod that escaped my lips.
Nicholas's smirk deepened, and he closed the gap between us, his lips barely grazing mine. His breath was hot and intoxicating, and the world seemed to disappear around us.
“Were you touching yourself?” He questioned, his hand moving down to my hips, my body squirming the moment his finger hooked itself under the band of my underwear.
I closed my eyes, my lips parting at his touch, nodding my head again. My hands clenched behind my back, the urge to touch him overwhelming. But I couldn't seem to move, too caught up in the magnetic pull between us.
Nicholas's thumb traced the outline of my lips again, the action slow and deliberate. His gaze never left mine, and I could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he studied me like I was something he wanted, something he couldn't resist.
His voice was a whisper, low and intoxicating. "You can touch me if you want to." It was a quiet command, but there was an invitation in it.
I hesitated for a moment, but then, as if drawn by an invisible force, my hand slid up his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the soft skin. My fingers traced the lines of his collarbone, skimming down to the waistband of his pants before I pulled away, suddenly embarrassed by the boldness of the move. Nicholas didn't give me time to retreat too much, though. With a gentle but firm grasp, he pulled my hand back to his chest, guiding it lower, urging me to feel the hard planes of his body.
His lips parted slightly as he lowered his head, his breath hot against my ear. “Don't be shy,” he whispered again, his voice thick with desire.
I swallowed hard, my pulse racing as I let my hand roam over his body, feeling the heat radiating from him. The muscles of his chest were solid under my touch, his skin warm and soft in contrast. My fingertips trailed down to the waistband of his pants again, this time without hesitation. He didn't stop me, didn't pull away. Instead, he let out a low, approving sound, his body shifting closer to mine.
The closeness was dizzying. His scent filled my senses, sharp and intoxicating, and I couldn't help but pull him toward me by his belt loops and lean in, my lips just inches from his.
He took charge, his lips brushing mine softly at first, teasing, testing, until the pressure grew, and I found myself kissing him back without hesitation. The kiss was electric, hungry, full of that same tension that had been building between us for days. His hand slid around my back, pulling me closer, as I tangled my fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss.
My body responded to him, betraying all the resistance l'd tried to put up. I felt his hands everywhere — on my back, on my hips, his hands softly squeezing my ass, pulling me closer as if he couldn't get enough. A groan rumbled low in his throat as his lips moved to my neck, trailing kisses down the curve of my collarbone. I tilted my head back, surrendering to the sensation, every nerve alive, every thought clouded by the pull of him.
His hands slipped under my shirt, sliding along my bare skin, and I gasped at the coolness of his touch against the heat of my body. The intimacy of it all, the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch, how to make me shiver, was overwhelming. But I wasn't the only one lost in this; it was clear from his ragged breathing, from the way his hands shook slightly as they explored my body, that he was just as desperate as I was.
"Everything I did this weekend was to get your attention," Nicholas murmured against my skin. His lips pressed against the curve of my jaw, trailing to my ear, where he nipped at the lobe gently. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you in the stairwell. I can't get enough of you, (Y/N),” his voice rough, almost pleading, “I want you.”
His confession hit me like a tidal wave, and for a second, I couldn't breathe. His words, his desire, everything he was feeling was laid bare before me, and I couldn't deny that I wanted him just as much.
"I want you, too, Nicholas," I whispered, my voice barely audible, but the raw honesty behind it made his body freeze. His hands paused where they rested on my back, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, as if he was trying to read my soul.
I, however, didn't hesitate. My hands found the sides of his face, pulling him back toward me as I kissed him fiercely. The kiss became frantic as our bodies collided, desperate, as though we were both starved for this connection. His hands moved quickly, pulling my shirt over my head and discarding it on the floor. I felt the cool air hit my skin, but it did nothing to dampen the fire building inside me.
I couldn't pull away. My body, my mind, all of it was consumed by him. His lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing lightly over the sensitive skin of my collarbone as his hands roamed lower, finding the waistband of my underwear again. I gasped as he gently tugged them down, his fingers brushing against my skin with an intimacy that made me tremble.
Nicholas was steady in his movements, never rushing, always making sure I was with him, always checking, always asking if I was okay with everything. But there was a fire in his eyes, a need that mirrored mine, a hunger that couldn't be ignored.
"I want to make you feel good," he whispered against my skin, his voice thick with desire. All I could do was nod my head at his statement, ready to give myself to him.
He wasted no time, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around him, hooking them behind his lower back. The feeling of his jeans grazing my bare center was enough to trigger a quiet mewl out of me. Nicholas groaned at the sound, his lips crashing back onto mine as he carried me toward the bed. When my back hit the soft mattress, I felt the weight of him settle over me, his hands bracing either side of my head.
His gaze bore into mine, his chest rising and falling heavily as he paused, his face hovering just inches above mine. For a moment, everything stilled, the only sound was the rhythmic beat of our breaths mingling in the air between us. As he settled down in the space next to me, propping himself up by the elbow, his free hand reached up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my flushed skin with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. The both of us laid there, face to face.
His lips parted as if to say something but no words escaped his lips, the hand on my cheek slowly making its way down, down. It lingered, at first, over my sensitive breast, tracing slow circles around my nipple. I bit my lip at the sensation, digging my head into his chest as I quietly moaned.
Nicholas quietly giggled, amused to see me squirming under him, as he slithered his supporting arm behind my head and pulled me closer to him. His lips rested on my forehead as he slid his hand further down, enveloping my center. “God, you’re soaking,” he whispered; I could feel his smirk against my skin.
His fingers massaged my throbbing bud, then slipped his fingers into me, his touch deft and confident. I loudly gasped and clutched at his arm, arching into him. “Oh, fuck,” I quietly breathed, nibbling on my bottom lip to bite back my moans.
He smiled, “Don’t hold yourself back. Be as loud as you want,” he whispered as his fingers continued to coax me, his thumb massaging my clit.
Digging my nails into his shoulder, my chest violently rising and falling as he pumped his fingers, I shook my head. “Somebody’s gonna hear,” I stammered out through my labored breathing.
“So?” He questioned, slipping a third finger in. Nicholas's confidence was maddening, his tone both teasing and commanding, making it impossible to resist him. “Let them hear how good I make you feel," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple.
My body arched involuntarily, my head falling back into the pillow as a moan escaped me despite my best efforts to stifle it. Nicholas was not having it. He quickened his pace, quickly slipping in and out with ease, as his thumb continued to circle around my clit. His lips kissed at my neck, his tongue licking my skin before gently sucking. I turned my head, my hand clutching at the back of his hair as I passionately made out with him, softly moaning between kisses.
I was unraveling beneath him, my body trembling as the heat coiled tighter and tighter in my core. My moans slowly became louder and louder, filling the room, and I knew there was no hiding how he was making me feel. The pleasure that I was feeling was so great that I couldn’t focus on kissing Nicholas anymore. I had to pull my head away, glancing down at his hand pumping in and out of me before shutting my eyes and burying my head into his chest again. I could barely find the strength to call out to him, my voice faltering as I moaned out, “Nic…” 
"That's it,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl. "Say my name, baby,” his fingers reshaping themselves inside me to reach further
My breathing became erratic hearing him call me baby, my nails raking across his shoulder as I clung to him, "Nicholas," I cried, louder this time, no longer caring who might hear.
The sound of my voice seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more precise, more relentless. His words, his touch, the heat of his body — it was all too much. "It’s ok; I’ve got you," he murmured against my neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along my skin. His gaze locking with mine, his fingers never faltering.
His words were my undoing. I shattered around him, my body arching as a wave of pleasure crashed over me, pulling me under. My cries of ecstasy filled the room, and I clung to Nicholas like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. He held me through it, his embrace steady and reassuring as I rode out the high while his fingers continued to coax every pleasure out of me, slowing to a stop.
When I finally came down, my body limped against his, Nicholas pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his hand leaving my core and coming up to his lips. I watched in awe as he licked at his fingers, wrapping his lips around them as he savored every trace of me with a deliberate slowness that made my breath hitch. His eyes never left mine, their intensity sending a shiver down my spine. I buried my face against his shoulder, my breathing still uneven.
He brushed away the damp hair from my face with the back of his pinky, “You taste even better than I imagined,” he spoke softly, his voice velvety.
The weight of his gaze was almost too much, but when I looked into his brown eyes, all I saw was warmth, tenderness, and something deeper that made my stomach ache. My stomach wasn’t the only thing aching, either. The entirety of me did — my hands, my core, my soul. I ached for him.
Desperate to have him at the end of my fingertips, I trailed my hands across his chest, settling on the nape of his neck as I captured his lips in a kiss. Nicholas replied with a soft groan, his hand finding my waist and his fingers delicately digging into my skin. The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling as I pulled him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me. My hands wandered, exploring the contours of his back, his muscles taut under my fingertips.
I pulled my lips away, pressing my forehead against his, “I hope you’re not done with me yet,” I whispered.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, “Far from it.”
He cradled my head in his hand, angling it slightly as his lips moved with mine, urgent yet tender. Nicholas shifted his weight, moving slightly up on the bed, grabbing me by my hips and rolling himself over on the bed as he pulled me on top of him.
My legs straddled his hips, my bare skin brushing against the rough denim of his jeans. The friction sent a jolt through me, and I bit my lip, my eyes locking with his. His hands slid up my thighs, gripping them firmly as if grounding himself in the moment. His gaze roamed over me with unrestrained hunger, making my skin flush under his scrutiny.
His hands continued their slow exploration, sliding up to rest on my waist. "I could look at you like this forever."
His words sent a thrill through me, and I couldn't help but smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. He met me halfway, his hands tightening their grip as he deepened the kiss. I let my hands roam, tracing the lines of his chest and shoulders, marveling at the strength beneath my fingertips. His muscles flexed as he moved beneath me, his hands sliding up to cradle my back, holding me close.
My hips began to move instinctively, grinding against him, and Nicholas groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as his eyes fluttered shut. His reaction ignited something in me, a newfound confidence that made me bold. I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, "Tell me what you want, Nicholas."
His hands gripped my waist tighter, guiding my movements as he let out a low growl. "I want you," he said, his voice rough with desire.
The intensity of his words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't hold back the smile that spread across my face. Leaning down, I kissed him again, pouring every ounce of my own desire into it. My hands tangled in his hair as our lips moved together, our breaths mingling as the space between us disappeared entirely.
Nicholas's hands slid down to my ass, his touch firm yet gentle as he guided me to move against him. The friction between us was electric, each movement sending waves of pleasure through me. His lips left mine to trail down my neck, his teeth grazing over my skin in a way that made me gasp.
"You drive me crazy, (Y/N)," he murmured against my collarbone, his voice raw, “you know that?"
I smiled, my hands bracing against his chest as I moved against him, my confidence growing with every reaction I drew from him. "I do now," I replied, my voice breathless.
Nicholas groaned, his hand digging into my skin as he bucked his hips upward, meeting my movements. His control was slipping, and I could feel it in the way his grip tightened, the way his breathing grew ragged. I continued to grind against him, trying to coax out the whimpers I had heard escape his lips when I was listening through the wall.
Nicholas's hands slid up my back, his fingers tracing along my spine as he tried to steady himself. His head fell back, his eyebrows tied together as his lips parted in a quiet moan that sent a rush of heat through me. But it wasn’t enough. I brushed my thumb against his bottom lip, slowing to a stop so he could feel the loss, teasing him with the occasional grind, “I want to hear you, Nic.”
He nodded his head, pressing me down against him as he bucked his hips upward repeatedly, desperate for me to continue. “Please, (Y/N),” he shut his eyes closed as he ground himself against me, quietly whining.
Smirkingly, I obliged, slowly continuing to grind against him. I rested my palms on his tense chest, bringing them down to the waistband of his jeans. His fingers curled into my thighs the faster I worked, moaning louder and louder.
“Fuck, I can’t—“ he threw his head back, raggedly moaning.
Looking at him in such a vulnerable state underneath me after days of having to deal with his cocky confidence, it made my blood rush. I played with the button of his jeans, undoing them and shimmying his pants and boxers off just enough for his hard length to free itself under me. I spit my hand, gently stroking him as I positioned his member at my entrance.
Nicholas let out a guttural groan, his hands gripping me firmly as I hovered over him, teasing him with my slow movements. I lowered myself onto him, taking him in inch by inch, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure coursing through my body. A sharp gasp escaped my lips, and Nicholas’s eyes rolled back, his head falling back onto the pillow again. The connection between us was electric, every movement, every sound amplifying the intensity of the moment. Nicholas's hands roamed over my body, his touch both tender and possessive.
As I rode him, I grabbed Nicholas’s hands, leading them to my chest. Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, he understood what I wanted, beginning to knead and pinch at my breasts. I moaned at his touch, bringing one hand of his up to my lips to kiss his fingertips before placing it back on my breast.
Suddenly, I felt him tense under me, arching his back toward me, "Don't stop," he pleaded, his voice becoming an octave higher, his grip on me tightening. "Please, baby, don't stop.”
I didn't. I couldn't. The rhythm between us was intoxicating, building to something that felt almost otherworldly. My name fell from his lips like a prayer, and the sound sent a surge of pleasure through me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
Nicholas's hands fell to my hips, guiding my movements as his breathing grew erratic. "I'm close," he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and pleasure.
I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, “Come for me, Nic." My words seemed to break the last of his restraint, and his hips bucked up into me with an urgency that sent shockwaves through my entire body.
“Fuck, (Y/N), I —“ His words cut off as a guttural groan escaped him, his body arching beneath me as he came. The intensity of his release sent me spiraling over the edge with him, my body trembling as the product of his pleasure filled me completely, some of the creamy liquid slowly dripping out me.
The aftershocks of our climax left us both trembling, our breaths mingling as we tried to regain control of ourselves. I collapsed onto Nicholas's chest, his arms immediately wrapping around me, holding me close as though he couldn't bear the thought of letting go.
For a while, we just lay there, our bodies pressed together, hearts pounding in unison. His fingers traced lazy patterns along my spine, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath me, the steady rhythm lulling me into a serene haze.
He caught his breath, “That was….” a hint of a chuckle at the end of his words, “That was fucking incredible,” he said as he kissed the top of my head.
I pulled myself off of Nicholas, lying down next to him and covering myself with the bed sheets. I thought about what he had said earlier at the beach — I may not give in easily, but when I do, I give in completely. It felt nice to finally be seen by someone who could understand me even after only knowing me for a few days compared to other people who have known me for years and still manage to get things wrong about me.
I rolled over to face Nicholas, my hand finding his. He smiled softly, intertwining his fingers with mine and kissing the back of my hand. A smile curled at the end of my lips seeing him so affectionate, “When do you check out of the hotel?” I asked, playing with his hand.
“In the morning. You?” He asked, caressing my cheek with his other hand.
“In the morning,” I replied, my eyes flickering up at him to see his reaction.
He was quiet, not saying anything at first, however, he rolled me over and pulled me closer to him, spooning me and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “We’ll have tonight, then,” he whispered, wrapping his heavy arm around my waist and nuzzling his head into the pillow.
My chest tightened at his words, and I couldn't help but smile softly. I rested my hand above his, intertwining our fingers. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep to the sound of Nicholas’s soft, rhythmic breathing.
A few hours later, which felt like minutes, I stirred awake to the soft light filtering through the curtains. The remnants of the previous night were scattered around — my shirt and underwear and his jeans and boxers strewn carelessly across the floor, the faint scent of Nicholas's cologne mingling with the crisp hotel room air.
The weight of his big, beefy arm draped over my waist anchored me in place. For a moment, I stayed still, savoring the warmth of his body against mine and the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek before I rotated in place so I could admire Nicholas as he rested. 
We were so close that I could count the beauty marks on his face. There was one on his cheek and another on his chin. His lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones, his lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply. I softly grazed my fingers over the scar on his forehead, wondering how he might’ve gotten it, though I’m not sure if I’d ever find out. He looked peaceful, vulnerable even, and the sight tugged at something deep within me.
I let my fingers trail lightly over his chest, tracing the faint outlines of the muscles that had pressed against me so urgently just hours ago. He stirred slightly, a low hum escaping his throat as his arm tightened around me instinctively.
His eyes fluttered open, landing on me before he closed them again for a few seconds, “Morning,” he murmured, smiling, his voice thick and husky from sleep. He opened his eyes again, gazing at me longingly.
"Morning," I whispered back, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze despite everything we had shared. His hand slid up my back, his fingers tangling in my hair as he leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss.
“Are we staying in?” he asked, shifting his body to face me.
I smiled, running a hand through his messy bedhead. "Oh, I wish," I admitted, my cheeks flushing as the memories of the night before flooded back, "but we have to check out.”
Nicholas groaned, his forehead pressing gently against mine. “Don’t remind me,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “We should get some breakfast together before we leave.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, pushing myself up and sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching my arms. I let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of the moment settle on me. The night had been incredible, but the thought of leaving was already filling me with an unexpected ache. “Breakfast sounds perfect,” I said softly, faking a small yawn.
Nicholas and I didn’t waste any time. I changed into a clean set of clothes and packed up my things, my body slowly waking up the more I walked back and forth in the room. Nicholas put on his boxers and jeans and retreated to his room for a bit, quickly throwing all his stuff into a backpack before coming back to my room and helping me carry my bags to the car.
I think I was too somber to say anything, knowing if I did, that a “goodbye” might be attached to the end of whatever I say.
The silence between us felt heavy but not uncomfortable as we made our way to the café, our movements synchronized without the need for words.
As we entered, the delicious smell of freshly-baked pastries beckoned to us. The morning sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting soft rays across the inside. The sound of light chatter and the occasional clinking of cups and forks against the ceramic plates filled the air, but it all felt distant compared to the warmth between Nicholas and me.
He slithered his hand into mine as he led us to the register, politely smiling to the worker. He ordered his meal, a coffee and a Belgian waffle. I was about to order for myself when he interrupted. “She’ll have the Italian crème croissant and a pot of green tea, please.”
I couldn’t help but smile. That first morning in the café, I could’ve sworn Nicholas was so focused on his book that he didn’t realize what was going on around him; I had no idea he was paying attention to me the entire time.
He paid the worker for our food, letting her keep the change, and waked us over to the same table I had sat in both days prior. We sat close, our knees brushing under the table as we picked at our food, the conversation flowing easily despite the unspoken weight of the situation hanging in the air. After some minutes, the worker came over with our food, and we continued to converse while enjoying our breakfast.
Nicholas looked at me, his expression soft but with a hint of something more playful. “So, at what point are you gonna give me your number?” he asked, taking a bite of his waffle.
I paused, chuckling softly as I chewed on my croissant for a moment before meeting his gaze. “What?” I asked confusedly, trying to keep my tone casual, though my heart rate had sped up slightly.
“What, you thought you’d get rid of me so easily?” He took a sip of his coffee, shaking his head and smirking.
I laughed, the sound a little nervous but genuine. “I just didn’t want to assume anything or get my hopes up,” I admitted, giving him a sideways glance. There was a warmth spreading through me that I couldn’t quite place, something between affection and the lingering thrill of uncertainty.
Nicholas’s eyes softened, and he leaned back slightly, his hands wrapped around his cup. “Well, get your hopes up,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something deeper. “because I don’t plan on letting go of you anytime soon.”
I swallowed, feeling my heart rate quicken at his words. There was something about the way he said it — so casually but with an intensity beneath the surface — that made me realize just how serious he was. And maybe how serious I was about him too.
“Alright, alright,” I said, smiling, trying to shake off the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside me. “Let’s trade phones.”
Nicholas’s smile widened, and he handed me his phone without hesitation, his fingers brushing against mine as we traded devices. I typed my number into the phone app, adding myself as a contact.
“Just remember we’re in different time zones before you decide to call me in the middle of the night,” I joked as I handed his phone back to him.
Nicholas laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made my heart flutter. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, slipping the phone back into his pocket then handing me mine, the screen off. “Though I won’t make any promises I can’t keep.”
I rolled my eyes playfully, but the blush creeping up my neck betrayed me.
We finished our breakfast. Nicholas quietly walked me over to my car. He walked close to me, his hand occasionally brushing against mine before finally capturing it. He leaned casually against the car with his arms crossed. He looked so effortless, so at ease, but there was something in his eyes — a softness, maybe even a hint of reluctance — that made it clear he felt the weight of the moment, too.
We both stood there silently, knowing this was our goodbye. Nicholas uncrossed his arms, stepping closer until he was right in front of me. His fingers tilted my chin up, and he searched my eyes, his brows knitting together slightly as if to say something. However, instead of resorting to words, he inched his face closer and closer until our lips grazed. 
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if we were both trying to hold on to the fleeting moment. But then, as if we both couldn’t help it, the kiss deepened, more urgent now, the electricity between us undeniable. My hands found their way to his shirt, pulling him closer, while his arms wrapped around me, his fingers pressing into my back as if he wanted to keep me there forever. Though, we pulled away slowly, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breath. Neither of us spoke immediately, both of us reluctant to break the spell.
Nicholas stepped back, “How about next time you have a free weekend you treat yourself to a trip to LA and come visit me?”
My heart skipped a beat at his words, the weight of his offer sinking in. I couldn’t tell if it was the sudden openness of his invitation or the quiet sincerity in his voice that made it feel so real. It wasn’t just a passing comment; it was an open door between us.
“I’d like that,” I said softly, surprised by how easily the words came out.
He smiled, his expression softening. “Good.” He reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering as his eyes locked onto mine.
I wanted to say more — something that could make this moment last longer, something to ease the ache already starting to form in my chest. But the words didn’t come, and instead, we stood there, wrapped in silence, our connection hanging between us like an unspoken promise.
He gave me one lingering kiss, brief but filled with everything we couldn’t put into words. When we finally pulled away, he looked at me, as if taking one final mental picture of me standing there, before speaking. “I’ll call you.”
I nodded, feeling the flutter of anticipation start to rise inside me. “You better.”
He squeezed my hand gently before opening my car door and slyly rolling down the window, watching me climb inside and closing the door for me. He leaned on the door, softly smiling, “To be continued.”
I couldn’t help but smile and give him one final kiss through the open window so I could savor his taste before starting up the car. He stepped back, hands in his pockets, to give me enough room to back out of the parking space. I slowly reversed out, waving my hand at him and driving out into the street.
The quiet hum of the engine filled the space, but the silence didn’t feel empty. There was something between us, something that went beyond just a weekend. It was more than I’d expected, more than I’d thought I was ready for, but as I drove away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end.
I don’t think I even left the neighborhood before a phone call interrupted my thoughts. My car’s entertainment screen lit up with the contact name in big, bold letters — Room 5.
I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I tapped the answer button on the steering wheel. “Hey,” I teased, my voice light and playful, though my chest felt warm at the sight of his contact name lighting up my screen.
“Hey,” Nicholas’s voice came through, smooth and familiar.
It was just the beginning.
Continue the story with 'Making Room' here
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