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itneverendshere · 1 month ago

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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - THREE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x Sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, of abortion, health risks & death. chapter one ┆chapter two ┆ chapter four

Two lines.

Two bold, definitive lines.

You blinked. Once, twice, but it didn’t change. It wasn’t going away.

Two lines, clear as fucking day, staring back at you like they were taunting you.

The universe was laughing right in your face. You felt everything plummet to the very bottom of the earth—the room, the floor, your stomach—it all just plummeted, like you’d been pushed off a cliff with no warning.

The test fell from your grip, clattering onto the marble countertop, but you didn’t care. You backed away from it like it was something radioactive, something dangerous that could destroy you if you got too close. But it already had, hadn’t it?

You were pregnant.How could this happen? How the fuck could this happen?

You knew how, obviously. You weren’t that dumb. All you could see in your head was Rafe’s stupid fucking face. His name alone made you want to punch something, preferably his balls.

You were pregnant? With his kid? You were so careful with your life, with your image.

You could feel the resentment rise in your throat again, the taste of acid making you want to scream. He didn’t get to do this to you. He couldn’t ruin your life twice, fuck you up this bad and then just leave. You wanted to hate him. You did hate him. You hated it. And worse, you hated yourself.

There you were, stuck with this. Alone with a baby you didn’t even want to think about. The thought of it growing inside you—of carrying some piece of him, some reminder of everything he put you through these past two months—it was loathsome. He wasn’t part of this, not anymore. And you weren’t that girl—you didn’t want to be. You weren’t the one who begged for him to care, who waited around for him to come to his senses, who made excuses.

You weren't going to cry. You couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you physically couldn’t. Not with your makeup done so carefully. Your eyes were lined so meticulously, your foundation blended like a dream, your lips painted in that bold red everyone said you pulled off effortlessly. You couldn’t afford to let your mascara run. He wasn’t worth it.

You weren’t going to ruin all that hard work over him again. No way.

You pressed a tissue to your eyes—not to cry, but to catch the stray moisture that threatened to ruin your eyeliner—and took a deep breath. You smoothed your dress, and made sure everything was in place.

You didn’t have time to figure it out, or wallow, or throw shit around. You straightened your back, lifted your chin, and forced yourself to feel nothing.

Not the panic, not the nausea, not the rage. Nothing.

You could push it all down, shove it into that deep hellish place in your guts where you put everything else. Later, maybe you’d have to let it out.

Just as you were spiraling deeper into the pit, there was a knock on the door. Loud. It made you jump, pulling you out of your head for just a second.

“Hey!” It was Lily, her voice bright, oblivious. “It’s time. We need you out there. You’ve got like three minutes.”

Right. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was.

You stepped out of the room, every movement rehearsed, the smile expertly placed on your lips. You were a master at this—faking it, pretending like nothing in the world could touch you. Not after seeing those two fucking lines.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked through the hallway, down the steps, and into the ballroom. It was filled with kooks being kooks. Fake smiles, fake compliments, fake friendships. You weren’t even listening to a word anyone said to you.

“Hi, darling, you look stunning as always,” someone said, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. You smiled, said thank you, maybe even added a you too, but you couldn’t hear yourself. Your body knew exactly what to do at these things.

Pretend like you gave a shit.

“Your dad would be so proud,” another woman gushed, and you wanted to throw up. You laughed.

If he knew what was happening. Pregnant? By a man who didn’t put a ring on your finger?

And there they were, of course—Topper, Kelce and Ruthie, standing in the middle of it all, grinning like idiots. Well, Topper grinning like an idiot.

Ruthie? That girl was giving everyone her signature snake sneer. Of course she was. The bitch had this superpower of sensing everyone's business before they even knew it themselves.

A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne flutes, and you reached out instinctively, but the waiter, somehow, just missed you. The tray floated right past, and before you could even realize the fact that you didn’t have a drink in your hand, her eyes were on you.

“Oh, you're not drinking?” she asked, voice dripping with fake concern. Her eyes flickered, like she knew something, and you swear to god, your eyelid twitched.

“Not yet,” you replied with the same faux smile.

Ruthie just kept watching you with those too-knowing eyes, like she was looking for a crack, some little tell. Because she always did.

You had to be so careful around her.

One wrong move, one second, and she’d be all over it, spreading it around the entire town before you even had a chance to breathe.

Your cousin, completely oblivious, was babbling with Kelce about something—probably golf, or the new boat his dad bought, or some other thing you couldn’t care less about. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but you were mentally still in the bathroom, staring at those two lines.

“So, you invited Rafe?” Kelce said it like it was nothing, like bringing up your ex-boyfriend was the most casual thing in the world.

“What the actual fuck did you just say?” You all but growled out, enough to make him choke on his champagne.

He looked genuinely confused, as if he didn’t just mention the one person you’d rather hurl off a bridge at the moment. “Yeah, Rafe. He’s on the list, right?”

Your whole body went rigid. You blinked, trying to keep your face from giving anything away, but inside? You were dying. Ruthie’s eyebrows shot up—oh great, now you had her attention too.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Kelce, of course, had the nerve to chuckle.

If Rafe had spoken to them about being taken off the guest list, you’d lose it. The insolence of him mentioning your name—like he still had any right to talk about you? He should’ve buried the memory of you right along with whatever feelings he claimed to have had.

But then, if he hadn’t said a word about it to his best friends—that meant something worse. That meant he didn’t care. He was over it. Over you.

He hadn’t even bothered to tell them that he wasn’t coming to the gala because he wasn’t thinking about it. Or about you.

You hated either possibility.

Kelce like the asshole he was, "I thought you two were—"

"Don't." You cut him off so fast, so hard, he had to take a step back.

You wanted to grab Top by his clueless shoulders and demand answers. Did Rafe care? Was he coming tonight? You didn’t like any option—every scenario made you want to get on a plane to the other side of the world. If he was planning to show up despite being cut from the list…Shit, what would you even do? You could feel the headache starting already.

That would be so him, though.

The arrogance. The entitlement, ignoring boundaries because he never thought the rules applied to him.

Ruthie, of course, was still watching you like a hawk. Her eyes darted between you and Topper, and you could practically feel her mind working, trying to piece together whatever she thought she was seeing. She loved this. She lived for other people’s drama, and you knew she’d sniff out anything that didn’t look flawless.

You did out without even thinking, grabbing Topper’s ear between two manicured fingers like you were his mom dragging him out of Sunday school, pulling him away.

"Ow, Jesus—what the hell?!" he yelped, stumbling to keep up with you in his shiny loafers as you all but hauled him into the nearest corner of the ballroom, out of sight, but still within earshot of the crowd.

You didn’t care. Let someone see. Let them all see.

You turned to him, barely letting go of his ear, your nails tapping impatiently against your crossed arms. He looked at you like you’d lost your mind, and maybe you had.

“Spill it.”

He was still rubbing his ear. “What are you talking about?”

“Rafe,” you snapped, eyes narrowing. “Is he coming tonight? And don’t you dare lie to me, Top.”

He gulped. Actually gulped. You swore you could see the gears turning in that pretty, empty head of his, trying to figure out if he could weasel his way out of this.

“I— I don’t know, okay?” Topper stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t talked to him today, but I figured… I mean, he always comes to these things, so I assumed—"

That meant Rafe didn’t tell him. That your little stunt hadn’t phased him in the slightest.

“You assumed?” You leaned in closer, eyes burning holes into his skull. “After everything, you thought it was a good idea to just assume he’d show up and not even bother telling me?”

“I can’t put him on a leash!” His voice rose defensively, eyes wide like he was the one under attack. And yeah, maybe he was. Maybe you’d gone full psycho mode. Rafe always turned you into this—this furious, spiraling, out-of-control version of yourself.

Your cousin was just collateral damage.

“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe someone should.” You said it slowly like you were explaining something to a child. “Do you even know what it’s like?” you hissed, leaning in closer, your voice dropping , “To sit here, wondering if he’s gonna show up like some ticking time bomb?”

Topper’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He didn’t know shit about what you were going through. How could he? He wasn’t the one with a whole life-changing secret burning a hole in his brain, wondering if the father of the child growing inside him was going to ruin everything—again.

“I—I didn’t think it was that serious,” Topper stammered, hands flying up in surrender. “I mean, he’s always been a dick, but—”

You remember the first thing he texted you after weeks of radio silence.

“No,” you interrupted, “He’s more than just a dick. He’s—” You stopped yourself before you said too much. God, you were on the edge, and you needed to rein it in.

Topper, still looking like a kicked puppy, shifted on his feet.

“Look, I’ll text him. I’ll ask if he’s coming or not, okay?” He pulled out his phone, typing something quickly. You watched him, arms crossed, tapping your foot against the marble floor like your life depended on it. If you saw his face—his stupid, beautiful, infuriating face—you didn’t know what you’d do.

Punch him? Scream? Run? The thought of him being here, so close, when you hadn’t even processed what was happening to you…

“Okay, he says—” He paused, squinting at his screen, “he’s not coming.”

The relief. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, shoulders sagging for just a second before you caught yourself. He’s not coming.

But why did it hurt? Perhaps a small part of you wanted him to show up—just to see you, just to care. The other part, however, didn’t. You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or this... this thing inside you.

“See?” Topper said, holding up his phone like it was some peace offering. “He’s not coming. Crisis averted.” He gave you this awkward, nervous smile, like he thought you might hit him again.

You forced a laugh, even though nothing about this was funny.

“Great. Awesome. Perfect,” you said through gritted teeth simultaneously smoothing your dress, and pushing your hair back over your shoulder, “Thanks, Top. Really. You’re a real lifesaver.”

He looked at you like he wasn’t sure if you were being sarcastic or not, but you didn’t care. The moment was over. You’d survived.

You rolled your eyes as you turned away heading back toward your original group. Of course, Ruthie was still standing there her arms crossed, that smug little smirk on her face. She’d been watching the whole thing, no doubt about it.

You could feel her nosy ass dissecting every single move you made.

“He’s not here yet,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing just enough to piss you off. “Weird, right? Maybe he’s busy with Sofia.”

Of course, she brought up that fucking name.

She was sniffing out blood in the water, as if she wasn’t just another Sarah Cameron knock-off. You could already picture it—the headlines, the whispers spreading through the audience, everyone talking about you. The legacy who ruined her own gala.

Kelce snorted, not even bothering to hide his amusement, because of course he thought this was all a joke. He never got it. None of them did.

You wished, for just a second, that you weren’t born into this pristine, high-society life. You felt so smothered by these expectations. If you were anyone else, if you weren’t some debutante raised on champagne and etiquette, you’d have punched her right there. You’d have knocked her straight to the floor and wiped that pretentious smile off her face with blood in front of every stuck-up rich asshole in the room.

“I didn’t realize we were talking about her,” you said, voice like sugar, even though you knew Ruthie could sense the underlying warning in it,“But thanks, Ruthie, for always keeping me updated on things that don’t concern you.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t back down yet.

“Just making conversation. I mean, it is weird that he hasn’t shown up yet, right? Considering how close you two used to be. I’m sure it’s nothing, though.”

Kelce, that asshole, leaned in, "Come on, don't act like you’re over it." His eyes glanced down to your hand. "You’re shaking."

You were. You hadn’t even noticed.

But instead of acknowledging it, you shot him a look that could've killed. "Fuck off, Kelce."

They were trying to get you to admit you didn’t invite him. Well, they’d have to try harder. You’d been swimming around sharks since you were born, no one was going to fuck you over so easily.

“Uh-huh,” Ruthie said, not buying a word of it. Her eyes flicked between you and Topper, and you knew what she was doing. She was fishing. “You sure about that? You were giving him a look.”

You glanced at your cousin, who was still rubbing his ear like a toddler. “Just sorting out some... logistics for the gala,” you said, voice saccharine, but it felt like chewing on glass. “It’s nothing. Really.”

She arched a brow, her lips curling up in a knowing grin. She knew something was off. She always did. “Right,” she said slowly, drawing the word out like she was savoring it. “Because for a second there, it looked like you were about to explode.”

She was monitoring you so closely, you could feel it crawling up your skin.

“You know,” she sighed, like she cared. “If something’s going on you can tell me. I won’t say a word.”

That was rich. Ruthie, keeping a secret? You’d sooner trust a thief with your jewelry. “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” you said, not keeping the sarcasm out of your voice. “But trust me, there’s nothing to tell.”

Ruthie’s pursed her lips, annoyed that she hadn’t managed to dig anything up, “Are you—”

You were two seconds away from shoving her into the nearest fountain. But instead, you took a deep breath, “You should worry less about me,” you advised her, “and more about that atrocious dress you’re wearing.”

The smile fell off her face so fast, it was glorious.

You didn’t wait for her to recover. You turned on your heel, and grabbed Topper by the arm.

As soon as you were far enough away, he let out a breath he’d been holding. “Jesus, I thought you were gonna deck her.”

You grinned, but there was no warmth in it. “I still might.”

He sighed, “She’s still my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, downgrading seems like a thing for you boys.”

Like a guardian angel sent from above, Lily appeared, stepping between you two with a concerned expression.

“Hey, hey,” she interrupted, glancing between you, “What was that about?”

You could see the caution in her eyes. She wasn’t stupid—Lily knew things between you and Rafe had been rocky, and she’d probably been sensing the tension the entire night. But right now, she was doing her best to defuse the earlier situation before it got any worse.

“Nothin’, just Ruthie being herself,” You dismissed, as you grabbed onto her forearm, “Let’s go.”

Lily blinked, startled by your urgency, but she didn’t argue. “Yeah, we should head backstage, the speech is coming up.”

“Bye Top. Stay the fuck away from the chocolate fountain.”

You could hear him whine in the back, “I did that shit once!”

Lily pulled you along through the ballroom, her arm linked with yours, quickening her pace to keep up with you as you nearly bolted toward the back of the venue. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you bit out, though your voice didn’t even convince you. “I’m fine. I just need to get this speech over with.”

“Uh-huh,” She replied, clearly not convinced, but smart enough to drop it for now. “You got it, don’t worry.”

Finally, you made it to the side entrance that led backstage. The thick drapes and low lighting created a shield, giving you a small moment of privacy before the world demanded your attention again.

Lily stood next to you, gently touching your arm, “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. We can stall, or—”

“I have to,” you stopped her, rubbing a hand over your face, “I can’t—” You didn’t finish your sentence because you didn’t know how to say it. You had no choice.

Lily’s fingers squeezed your arm a little tighter. “Okay,” she said quietly, nodding. “But I’m here if you need me.”

You forced a smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks,” you whispered, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth.

You appreciated her being here, really, but she was blissfully unaware of the pregnancy test in the trash can.

Taking a deep breath, you adjusted your posture, straightened your dress, and ran a hand through your hair, reminding yourself that you’d been here before. You’d stood on that stage so many times.

This wasn’t new. You just had to get through it.

One more speech. One more night. You glanced at Lily, gave her a quick nod, and stepped through the final curtain. Back into the spotlight. Back into the role you’d perfected so well—put together, poised, untouchable.

The low murmur of the gathering hummed in your ears, growing louder with every second. You weren’t ready. You were never going to be ready.

You just needed to remember how to breathe.

The speech was printed and sitting in your hands, it felt like dead weight. You hadn’t even read through it since you’d finished it hours ago, and now, the thought of standing in front of all those people, pretending to have it together—it felt impossible.

Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Rafe.

He said he wasn’t coming. Topper said he wasn’t coming. But there he was, standing there, watching you just like he always had.

You hadn’t even meant to look. You didn’t do it on purpose, perhaps it was muscle memory, always searching for him. He was standing in the same spot he usually took. Like nothing had changed.

As if he hadn’t ripped you apart.

You tried to focus, but your heart was racing, thundering in your ears.

How dare he? How fucking dare he? Instantly you were back there, that messy, intoxicating space you swore you’d never return to. The one where he controlled the air you breathed. He looked so good. Too good, really. He was wearing a crisp navy suit that hugged his frame perfectly, hair buzzed again.

You should’ve guessed he’d find a way back here, even after everything.

“Are you ready?” Lily whispered beside you, her voice pulling you back from the brink of a breakdown.

“Yeah.”

Your heart raced as you forced yourself to look back at Rafe.

He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even pretending to look interested. He just stood there, his eyes locked on you, unreadable, unfathomable.

He was still watching you. It felt like could see through your polished exterior. He probably did. He knew you better than anyone else. You wondered what he saw—the confident girl who had always pulled off these events with ease or the terrified woman who was about to pass out from the pressure.

Then, he’s lips lifted slightly. That infuriating, devil-may-care almost there smirk that had made your heart stutter long before everything went to hell. It reminded you of nights spent tangled in sheets, whispers pressed against your skin under the cover of darkness, moments that felt like they belonged in a dream.

You wanted to throw the speech away and storm off the stage, leaving this whole night behind.

Instead, you cleared your throat and gripped the edges of the podium, the cool wood bringing you back to the world.

The words were on the paper in front of you, but you didn’t need to look at them. You knew the speech by heart every year. You’d written it yourself, after all—crafted it with care, knowing exactly what people needed to hear to make their checks bigger, to keep your father’s legacy alive.

It was just a matter of saying it without breaking.

A deep breath, and then you began.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you so much for being here tonight.”

Your voice sounded better than what you felt, and you leaned into that, letting it carry you through the first few lines.

“We gather here every year for the same reason—to celebrate the incredible work this foundation does, and to honor the legacy of those who came before us. This foundation isn’t just a charity; it’s a tribute. A way to remember those we’ve lost and to carry their dreams forward. It’s about giving back to a community that gave so much to us.”

You paused, just for a moment, glancing down at the speech in your hands, feeling the overwhelming crush of what you’re about to say next.

“For me, this has always been personal.” Your voice softened as you continued, “Most of you are aware I lost my family a few years ago. My father started this foundation. His vision was always to make sure that no one was left behind, that we take care of our own. My mother helped build it. And my sister…” You hesitated, remembering how faultless she’d been, “She was always the heart of it.”

The room was utterly still now, everyone listening intently.

“Tonight, as I stand here, I can’t help but think about how proud they would be of what we’ve accomplished. At least, I hope they’d be proud.”

You allowed yourself a small, bittersweet smile.

“My dad would’ve been in his element, making sure everything was spotless. And my mom, well, she’d probably tell me that the curtains were horrid and needed to be replaced immediately.”

The crowd gave a light laugh, the tension in the room dissipating just a little. You smiled, a real one this time, for the first time in weeks, picturing your mother in her no-nonsense way, criticizing every decoration like it was the most important thing in the world.

“I miss them every day,” you added, “And I’m certain I’m not the only one in this room who’s experienced that kind of loss. It changes you. But it also reminds you to live in a way that makes them proud. And that’s what tonight is about, continuing their work, continuing their legacy, and making sure we do right by them.”

Your grip on the podium loosened, and you looked up, making eye contact with the audience.

“So, to everyone here tonight—thank you. Thank you for believing in this cause. Thank you for your generosity, your support, and your kindness. And thank you for helping me keep their memory alive.”

With that, you stepped back from the podium, the applause swelling around you, but all you could hear was the sound of your heart breaking.

It was over. You did it.

Automatically, your eyes flickered up toward the back corner, the spot where Rafe was standing. You never needed to look before; you’d always just known he’d be there. It was his silent promise to you since you were sixteen. Every gala, every speech—no matter what happened between the two of you—he was there.

But he wasn’t there anymore. The space was empty.

This was what you wanted, you didn’t need him anymore. You were going to get through this on your own. It was the first time he wasn’t there to catch you like he’d always been.

You stood taller, and forced a smile, but as you started to step down from the stage, you felt it.

That stupid fucking warmth.

His hand found your elbow as you and every nerve in your body screamed bloody murder. The applause was still buzzing in your ears, cameras flashing—none of it registered.

All you saw was him.

Three seconds. That was how close you were to snapping. Who the fuck let him in?

You yanked your arm away, the touch burning your skin like it was staining you. You didn’t say a word—just turned and headed straight for the back exit.

Behind you, you heard his footsteps.

Of course, he never knew when to stop, when to let you breathe.

“Can we just—” he was practically jogging after you, his voice strained. “Can we talk like fucking adults?”

You were already halfway down the hall, pulling off your earrings as you stormed toward your suite.

The fucking sheer audacity of this man. You couldn’t even process it—how he could stand there, with his fake-ass calm tone, chasing after you like you were the one being unreasonable.

You threw open the door to the suite you got ready in, the one that was supposed to be your sanctuary for the night and stepped inside, not bothering to close it behind you; you knew he was going to follow you in any way.

He was relentless like that.

You tossed the earrings onto the vanity and glanced up to see he was right behind you now, lingering in the doorway, as if unsure of how much further he could push before you exploded.

He looked at you like he was the victim in all this.

“Can you at least listen to me for a second?” It sounded like he was forcing himself to stay calm.

But that bite was so Rafe.

You spun around, your breath coming out harsh.

“Listen to you? Listen to you? You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you were already pulling off your heels, the sharp tug at the straps doing nothing to calm your frustration.

He stood there, his eyes on you, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him for more than a second without feeling the betrayal flooding your chest.

Rafe was rubbing the back of his neck in that agitated way he did when he was frustrated. “I came here because I didn’t want to leave things like that. I thought we could be civil—”

“Civil?” You nearly laughed, “You seriously think you can walk in here and be civil after everything?”

His eyes narrowed just a fraction. He moved on his feet, stepping further into the room, and you saw it—the way he rolled his shoulders like he was already preparing himself for a fight. “I came to apologize.”

He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, the same agitated motion you’d seen a thousand times as if he was trying to smooth out the mess in his head.

Your hands stopped mid-motion, your necklace halfway off. You looked at him like he’d lost his mind. "Apologize for what, exactly?"

“For calling you dramatic.” He exhaled like he was doing something noble by saying it. As if he was doing you a favor. “For that text. I was drunk, didn’t mean it.”

He wasn’t apologizing for ghosting you. He wasn’t apologizing for her.

You stared at him, completely floored. He was serious, he thought this was some kind of peace offering. The fact that he thought an apology for that would fix anything? Insane.

“You think this is about that?” You cackled, chucking one shoe to the side, not caring where it landed, and the other followed right after. “Oh my god, Rafe, you are so fucking clueless.”

His expression changed then, brows furrowed, “I’m trying to make things right,” he mutters. “I don’t want you out of my life, okay?”

You threw the necklace somewhere on the ground, your patience gone. “You were the one who pushed me away. You don’t get to waltz in here and act like we can just fix things because you finally feel bad about it.”

He stepped closer, looming over you now, his lips curling into that sneer. “I’m trying to give you a chance to be friends—”

Give you? Like you were some charity case to him? As if you should be thankful.

“I don’t want to be your friend!” You growled in his face, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his chest, “I’d rather set myself on fire than be your friend, so you can take that chance and shove it up your ass.”

His hand came up to run along his head again, and you saw the way his fingers curled into his scalp like he was trying not to give in to his impulsive thoughts. His breathing was heavier now, too, chest rising and falling quickly.

“Why are you being so difficult?” he snapped, and there it was—the familiar, accusatory edge in his voice. “After what you said about my dad—”

The reason.

The thing that broke you two this time, the thing he’d been holding over your head. You saw the hurt in his eyes, the one thing he hadn’t let go of.

You told him the truth and now it had become the scar he wouldn’t stop picking at. He was hurt. And he was angry, because you’d finally told him the truth about his dad, and it shattered that fake picture he had in his head.

“You’re gonna bring that up right now?” Your voice was so quiet it nearly scared you. “After all the shit you’ve put me through, that’s what you’re mad about?”

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” he growled, stepping forward. “That’s why we broke up. Because you don’t fucking get it.”

But Sofia did, right?

That was fucking hilarious. She didn’t grow up listening to Ward’s bullshit. Didn’t see the kind of things he’d say or did to his oldest child.

Of course, she would take his side. She didn’t know better.

You shook your head, “No, we broke up because you didn’t like me telling the truth. Your dad was a piece of shit, and you know it.”

For a moment, the air went deadly still between you. You could sense his hurt, the way it sneaked between every bitter word.

Then, he did it—the thing you knew he would, that thing that made your blood boil.

Rafe pulled at the back of his neck again, looking like he might’ve ground his teeth to dust. “Oh, I get it now,” he says, his voice thick with condescension. “You’re jealous.”

Your whole body went borderline rigid, like a door, locked in place.

He was standing there, offering you friendship like a pity prize, calling you jealous when you were standing there broken, trying not to fall apart because of him.

“Jealous?” you repeated, in disbelief. “Of your little pogue girlfriend? Please, fucking spare me. You want me to throw a penny at her?”

He stepped closer, his breath quickening. "She’s real, okay? She’s not some polished barbie pretending in front of everyone, just to fall apart behind closed doors."

Ouch. But you could do worse.

"Real huh?" You scoffed, the bitterness in your chest taking over. "Is that what you call it? Someone who doesn’t know the difference between caviar and fucking canned tuna? That’s the 'real' you’ve been slumming it with?"

"At least she doesn’t care about any of this," he snapped, gesturing to the glittering gala that surrounded you both. "She’s not obsessed with keeping up appearances.”

A cold laugh escaped your lips. He must’ve forgotten to look in the mirror today.

"God, you’re so delusional. Do you think I wanted any of this?” You shot him a look that could cut through steel. "I’m not the one faking it. You are. You are still so desperate for Daddy’s approval that you can’t even see what a fucking mess you are."

Rafe's hands flexed at his sides, his fingers twitching. His nostrils flared, and he tilted his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth like he always did when he was trying to stay calm.”

"I’m not afraid of who I am," His lips barely moved as he spoke, rolling his shoulders back again, standing to his full height. "You spend so much time trying to be perfect, you don’t even know who you are anymore."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin, like a predator sizing you up, his eyes locked on yours. You could see his jaw clench, his chest rising and falling with every shallow breath as he tried to keep his composure.

You took a step closer, your chest brushing against his, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. His gaze flicked downward, scanning your face.

"Is that a joke? You spend so much time trying to be your father, you’ve lost yourself. Do you think I don’t see it? You’re so fucking empty without his approval,” Your voice dipped lower, “You’re so pathetic it’s almost sad."

He clenched his jaw again, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He took a sharp breath through his nose, staring you down with a look that was all Rafe—volatile, unreadable, on the edge of breaking.

Right then and there, Lily burst into the room, her wide eyes taking in the scene like a bomb had just gone off.

"Okay! What is going on in here?" she demanded, her voice sharp but layered with concern. “I could hear you two in the hallway. If something happened, this is not the place to deal with it.”

“You wanna know what happened, Lily?” you started, almost laughing with disbelief. “This motherfucker started seeing someone behind my back. Two months—two fucking months—with no real closure, no answers. And he’s off fucking some pogue.”

“It’s not like that,” He scoffed, pointing a finger in your direction as he took a few steps back, "Don't drag Sofia into this.”

His posture screamed defensiveness, and all you could think was how much you hated the way he said her name. It made you want to throw up, it felt like someone was taking a rusty nail and dragging it down your spine.

He said it so casually, so carelessly, as if it hadn’t ripped you apart. It was the way he said it, with that hint of affection, like she was this delicate, shiny little thing he was protecting, and you—you—were just a threat he had to deal with.

"I'll drag the fucking Pope into this if I have to.”

You were the one who had been there through all his bullshit, you were the one who held him together when everything in his life was falling apart. Now, suddenly, she was the one he spoke about softly. Like she mattered.

It was insulting.

“Guys!”

Lily stepped between you both, throwing her hands up as if she were separating two wild animals about to rip each other apart.

“Please, please calm down. Rafe, I think you should leave. Now."

He looked like he wanted to say more, you knew he had a million things screaming at him beneath the surface, but for once, he stayed silent. Maybe it was the fact that Lily was there, or maybe he finally realized you weren’t going to bite into his bullshit excuses and provocations.

Whatever it was, he took a step back, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, storming past Lily and out of the room.

You could hear the distant sound of the door slamming as he left.

The moment he was gone, you felt your breath coming out in shallow gasps. Your heart dropped to your stomach, your pulse racing.

Lily turned to you; her face full of concern. She reached out and grabbed your shoulders gently.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice soothing, “Breathe. Just breathe.”

You pressed a hand to your chest, your breath hitching. Pregnant. You were pregnant with his kid, and this was what you got in return.

No peace. No calm.

Your chest tightened, your vision blurring.

“Hey, hey,” She cooed again, her hands on your arms, grounding you. “You’re okay. We’re going to figure this out. Just breathe, okay?”

You couldn’t believe you’d let it get this far—couldn’t believe you were even in this situation.

There was no way you were having his kid.

Absolutely not.

You didn’t even have to think about it. The decision had been made the second he’d defended her and insulted you like you were sidewalk littering.

Tomorrow, you’d take care of it. You’d book the appointment and that would be that. Clean break, no more ties to Rafe Cameron, no more staying in that fucked up twisted cycle with him.

“I really think you need to sit down and breathe for a second. You’re scaring me sweetheart, and honestly, this isn’t good for you.”

Once again, you pondered telling her everything—about breaking down and spilling every ugly detail. But that would make it real.

Your designer dress clung to you in all the wrong ways, as if even the fabric could understand the order going changes in your body.

“Whoever let him in, I want them fired.”

You spat suddenly gaining momentary strength to ruin lives. It wasn’t just a demand; it was an execution order.

The quiet threat of it was more terrifying than your screaming would have been.

Tomorrow, you’d make sure this nightmare ended before it could begin.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

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fullsunstrawberry · 2 months ago

Text

Falling for the Enemy (M)

Synopsis: Caught in a toxic relationship with a manipulative and cheating boyfriend, you find solace in his enemy, Donghyuck. What starts as a vengeful fling turns into something more, and old feelings start to re-surface.

Genre: enemies with benefits?, childhood friends fallout, slice of life, angst, a lot of fighting, fluffy end, SMUT MDNI!!

Warnings: swearing, haechan getting into a fight, please guys don’t fight lol, helping clean up after a fight, jealousy, cunnilingus, blowjob, teasing, ex knowingly watching, no condom mentioned (stay safe yall), the pull out method (pls be safe), use of the words hot seed, cum, cock.

Word Count: 18.5k

A/N: Shout out to my lovely 💚anon for this one!! After some internet troubles, it’s finally out now :) Please let me know if there is anything funky about this (I write on google doc and copy and paste it on Tumblr and sometimes it fucks up the format or doubles paragraphs)

Marketing would be a fun class if it wasn't for the pain that decided to sit next to you every single class.

"You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend!" Donghyuck's voice cut through the air, his tone filled with disgust.

"Just shut up!" you snapped, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Why did he have to make things so awkward?

Donghyuck, or Haechan as he insisted on being called now, was someone you hadn't seen in years. You used to be close friends back in middle school, basically best friends. But then life happened, and you had to move away. You two were so young that you couldn't even stay in touch through social media. Only a promise that you two would find each other later on.

Now here you two were, reunited in college, but things were different. Haechan was no longer the sweet boy you once knew. He had turned into an arrogant jerk, who wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

Throughout the class, you couldn't shake off the discomfort of sitting next to Haechan, especially after his rude outburst. But beneath the cocky smirk on his face, you couldn't shake off the feeling that missed your friend that was long gone.

You would never tell anyone that you missed your childhood friend. Especially not any of your new friends, who also hate him. Chenle, Jeno, and Jaemin all would jump at the chance to wipe that little smirk off his face.

Your best friend Chaeryeong was the only one who knew about your past with him. She's the only person who you could never lie to. She always had your back, so you will always have hers. Even if she hates your boyfriend, Jay.

Well, most of your friends hate your boyfriend... Jaemin has even tried to talk you into breaking up with Jay. But “pussied out” as Chenle would say when he saw you were starting to tear up.

Jay was your first boyfriend. You learned how to deal with all of his flaws…Everyone has flaws so why is it so bad for him to have some…okay a lot of flaws. But he’s sweet to you!

You sat through the rest of the class with clenched fists, trying to focus on anything but the awkward tension that clung to the air between you and Haechan. His outburst still echoed in your mind, chewing at you. “You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend”.

Once everyone started to pack their bags, pulling you from your thoughts, you quickly gathered your things, hoping to escape before Haechan could throw another mocking remark your way. But, as expected, he would always be a little shit.

"Running away already?" Haechan’s voice was teasing, but there was something beneath it, something sharp that cut through the cocky tone. "Gonna run back to your little boyfriend."

You spun around, eyes glaring, ready to fire back, but then you caught Haechan's expression. It wasn’t that usual smug grin he always wore. Instead, there was a hint of vulnerability that almost made you stop. Almost. But just like that, it disappeared, and he was back to his old self, smirking like nothing had happened. Typical.

"Maybe you should shut up for once, Donghyuck," you shot back, emphasizing his old name, hoping it would sting.

His smirk faltered. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you saw it. Something about calling him “Donghyuck” felt like a small victory. You were pretty sure the boy you once knew was entirely gone.

You turned on your heel and walked out of the classroom, leaving Haechan behind. As you made your way to the dining hall, you spotted Chenle and Jeno lounging on one of the benches, chatting. Seeing them made you feel more at ease. You needed a distraction. Anything to get your mind off that annoying encounter.

"Y/n! Over here!" Chenle called out, waving his arms dramatically. "Where's Jaemin?."

You shrugged, still shaken by your fight with Haechan. "I haven’t seen him. He’s probably sleeping through his class again."

"Or he got into another fight because of your boyfriend," Jeno added, his eyes holding a seriousness that made your stomach twist. You knew your friends didn’t like Jay, but you wished they could just let it go.

"Can we not do this today," you muttered, dropping your bag next to Chenle and sinking onto the bench. You didn’t have the energy to get into another debate about Jay right now.

Chenle nudged you playfully. "Come on, we’re just looking out for you. You deserve someone better than that guy."

"Yeah, someone who's not a total asshole," Jeno chimed in. "Like, seriously, what do you even see in him?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you stared off into the distance, your thoughts spiraling. It wasn’t just about Jay—it was everything. The awkwardness with Haechan, the tension with your friends, the pressure to hold everything together when you felt like you were starting to unravel.

“He’s sweet…” You trailed off, your words sounding weak even to yourself. Was Jay sweet? Or was that just the version of him you had convinced yourself to see?

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Sweet? You’re joking, right? The same guy that has to approve your outfits when you go out."

You shot him a look, but he continued, persistent. "I’m serious, Y/n. There’s ‘sweet’ and then there’s whatever Jay’s doing to you. You deserve better."

Jeno, who had been scrolling through his phone, suddenly locked eyes with you. “You think this is what love’s supposed to feel like? Constant stress? Us having to break up fights Jaemin gets into because of Jay? You don’t look happy.”

That last comment stung more than you expected like an arrow hitting its mark. Were you happy? Or had you just grown used to the chaos?

Your silence was telling, and your friends exchanged worried glances. Chenle let out a dramatic sigh and pulled out his phone, probably ready to change the topic, when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Jaemin's voice was casual, but when he turned to you, his expression hardened a little bit. “Jay’s looking for you again, Y/n. He’s upset about something."

You felt your stomach drop. Of course, he was upset about something. Jay was always upset about something. And it was always your job to fix it, to calm him down, to make everything right.

Chenle clicked his tongue in disapproval. “See? You can’t even breathe without that guy hovering around. He’s suffocating you.”

Jaemin sat down next to you, his tone softer now. “We’re not trying to gang up on you, Y/n. But this… this isn’t normal. It’s not okay.”

You clenched your fists, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on you. You wanted to defend Jay, to tell them they didn’t understand him the way you did. But deep down, you couldn’t deny the truth of what they were saying.

“I’ll talk to him,” you muttered, standing up. You didn’t wait for their response as you walked away, feeling their eyes on your back. You knew they were worried, and maybe they had every right to be. But you couldn’t just walk away from Jay. You didn’t know how.

As you made your way toward the campus courtyard, your mind wandered back to the class with Haechan. You couldn’t shake the image of his face when you called him Donghyuck. But you couldn't let it affect you. He probably did it on purpose so you would overthink and feel bad.

Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice when Jay appeared in front of you, his face twisted in frustration.

“Where the hell have you been?” he snapped, his voice low but harsh. “I’ve been calling you.”

Your stomach turned, and you immediately braced yourself for whatever fight was coming next. "I was in class. What’s wrong?"

Jay let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "You didn’t tell me you were sitting next to him again." He spoke with clear disapproval, his gaze burning into yours.

“Him?” It took a moment before you realized he meant Haechan. “Jay, it’s just class. The professor didn’t let us pick where we could sit.”

“That’s not the point, Y/n.” He stepped closer, his expression darkening. “I don’t trust that guy, and I don’t like you being around him.”

“Jay, it’s not like that—”

“It better not be,” he cut you off, his voice laced with an edge that made your skin crawl. “He’s a shitty person, he’s just trying to get to me.”

The words hung in the air. You knew Jay had a jealous streak, but this felt different—darker, more possessive. And for the first time, you felt a tinge of fear.

"I—I have to go," you said quickly, your heart pounding as you stepped back. You didn’t wait for Jay to respond. You couldn’t. Your feet moved on autopilot, moving away from him.

But as you hurried through the campus, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You didn’t know where you were running to—only that you had to get away from yet another fight.

Choosing to buy some coffee, you push open the local café on campus. The familiar chime of the café door was a welcome sound, cutting through the fog of your jumbled thoughts. The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries welcomed you as you stepped inside. You spotted an empty table in the corner and made a beeline for it, craving to be away from everything. You ordered a simple iced latte, hoping the cool drink might calm you down.

As you waited for your coffee, you buried your face in your hands. Why did it always have to feel like this with Jay? Why did every conversation leave you feeling smaller, and more insecure about yourself? Your friends were right but you didn’t know what to do.

But what could you do? You couldn’t just walk away. You loved him… didn’t you?

Before you could spiral any further, the barista called your name, pulling you from your thoughts. You grabbed your coffee and took a seat, letting the ice clink against the cup as you swirled it absently.

The door to the café swung open again, noticing it was Haechan you hid your face with your hands. Not wanting to deal with him again.

He walked in, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. For a moment, he hesitated, then made his way over to your table.

“You’re in my spot” he stated, his tone sharp. You stared at him, unsure of what to say.

You hesitated for a moment, did you really want to start a fight right now? “I don’t see your name on it.”

Haechan slid into the seat across from you, leaning back in his chair as if trying to gauge your mood.

“I’ve never seen you here,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t the Haechan you were used to—the cocky, arrogant guy who seemed to enjoy making your life miserable. Where is the teasing?

“None of your business,” you muttered, staring into your coffee cup, avoiding his gaze. The last thing you wanted was to bare your soul to Haechan of all people. You didn’t need his pity, and you certainly didn’t need him to insert himself into your problems. He would use any information to torment Jay, which would just start an even bigger fight between you two.

But Haechan wasn’t easily deterred. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m not an idiot. You look like a kicked puppy.”

There he goes, mocking you even at your worst. But he caught you off guard by how well he could read you. To most people, you probably look like a tired college student, normal. But for some reason, Haechan could tell there was something wrong.

You shook your head. “Why do you care, Haechan?”

He rolled his eyes, leaning forward on the table. “Maybe because it’s not fun to tease you when you’re already miserable.”

You flinched. His words struck deeper than you expected. Did it show that much? Did everyone see it—how exhausted you felt, how tightly you were hurt from trying to keep everything together? You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out.

Haechan sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

“Haechan.” The barista called out.

Haechan got up and grabbed his drink before asking something you couldn’t make out. You watched him as he left, not sparing you another glance.

You sighed out, of course, he doesn't care. He’s probably high on seeing you this miserable.

But before you could throw yourself another pity party, the cafe doors slam open and a concerned-looking Chaeryeong comes rushing in.

“Y/n!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through the noise of the café as she rushed over to your table, her face a mix of concern and urgency. You barely had time to brace yourself before she slid into the chair across from you, eyes scanning your face for answers.

“What’s going on? Haechan just said you needed me.” Her tone was low but insistent, probably thinking this was a plan made up by Haechan, trying to get under your skin again.

You exhaled slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s… nothing. Just another argument with Jay.”

Chaeryeong frowned, her brows knitting together. "Another argument? Y/n, you’ve been having a lot of those lately."

You shook your head, trying to dismiss her concern. "It’s just a misunderstanding. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan again. He thinks it’s some big deal, but it’s not."

"Jay seriously has issues if he’s getting worked up over something like that." Chaeryeong’s voice was firm, but there was a softness in her eyes like she was trying to tread carefully. "You know this isn’t normal, right?"

You looked down at your iced latte, feeling the familiar swirl of guilt and confusion rise. You loved Jay—at least, you thought you did. But lately, everything felt like a battle, and you were always on the losing side.

"It’s fine," you said weakly, though the words felt like they were collapsing in on themselves. "He’s just... protective."

Chaeryeong let out a sigh, her frustration barely concealed. "Y/n, there’s a difference between being protective and being controlling. I hate seeing you like this. It’s like you’re always walking on eggshells with him."

You didn’t respond, unable to meet her gaze. The weight of the conversation was suffocating, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jay’s jealousy had started to bleed into every part of your life, and it was exhausting.

After a moment of silence, Chaeryeong leaned forward, her voice softer. "You don’t have to keep defending him. I know you care about him, but... is he making you happy?"

That question lingered in the air. Was Jay making you happy? Or were you just holding on to the idea of what you thought love should be?

Before you could answer, Chaeryeong reached out and squeezed your hand. "You deserve better than this, Y/n. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel safe, not stressed out all the time."

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Can we switch the topic, I don’t want to talk about this right now," you whispered.

Chaeryeong’s grip tightened on your hand. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just know that you’re not alone, okay? I’m here for you."

You nodded, grateful for her support, but still feeling lost in the mess of your emotions. The tall barista came up to your table with a plate of red velvet cookies.

“Um, here you go….” He sat them down on the table in front of you.

“Wait! I didn’t pay for this.”

The barista gave you a small, almost shy smile. "Don't worry about it. They're already paid for." Before you could ask any more questions, he walked away, leaving you and Chaeryeong to exchange confused glances.

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to examine the cookies. "Who do you think...?"

You didn’t have to guess for long. So that’s what he was asking the barista. You blinked, processing the moment.

Chaeryeong noticed too, her eyes narrowing. "Did Haechan just... buy you cookies?"

You shrugged, feeling more confused than anything. "I guess?"

Chaeryeong leaned back, a mixture of amusement and suspicion crossing her face. "Weird, right? I thought he was a jerk."

"Yeah... he is," you muttered, still trying to piece together Haechan's sudden act of kindness. It didn’t fit with the person you’d been dealing with all semester.

But for right now, you weren’t going to overanalyze it. You had enough on your plate with Jay and the constant pressure you were under. Haechan's behavior would have to wait.

You broke the cookie in half and offered a piece to Chaeryeong, hoping to shift the focus back to something lighter. "Want some? Might as well not let them go to waste.

She accepted the piece with a small smile, though her gaze remained thoughtful.

"You know, maybe he’s not as bad as we thought. Or maybe he's just a confusing guy."

You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. "That’s putting it lightly."

But as the sweetness of the cookie melted in your mouth, the door to the café swung open again, and for a moment, your heart jumped, fearing it might be Jay.

But instead, it was Chenle and Jaemin, both of them scanning the room until they spotted you and Chaeryeong.

"Hey, there you are," Chenle said, sliding into a seat next to Chaeryeong. Jaemin followed sitting in the seat next to you, giving you a concerned look. "Everything okay?"

You forced a smile, trying to shake off the heaviness of the conversation. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... needed some space."

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he gave a playful nudge. "Well, we’re here now, so no more pity parties. Let’s get you out of this mess.”

Jaemin studied you for a moment before speaking. "We’re here for you, Y/n. Whatever you need." You nodded, feeling a small sense of relief.

“Ooo cookies!” Chenle grabbed one without asking.

“You even ordered yourself some of your favorite cookies…oh no this is bad” Jaemin continued, shaking his head with exaggerated seriousness. "Cookies are your comfort food."

Chenle, mid-bite, paused and raised his eyebrows.

"Wait, did something happen with Jay again?" His usual playful tone shifted slightly, concern creeping in as he glanced between you and Chaeryoung.

You sighed, feeling the weight of their questions. "It's nothing. Just... the usual stuff. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan in class again."

Jaemin’s face hardened. "Y/n, that’s not nothing. He’s been doing this for a while now. Getting jealous and picking fights. It’s not normal."

Chenle, despite the cookie in his mouth, nodded vigorously. "Exactly! Why does it even matter where you sit in class? You’re not his property."

You glanced away, not wanting to meet their eyes. The conversation was heading in the same direction as before, and you felt that familiar knot of guilt tightening in your chest.

After a moment of silence, Chaeryoung spoke up, “She didn’t even buy these cookies…guess who did.”

Chenle blinked, pausing mid-chew as he looked between you and Chaeryoung.

"Wait, are you bragging about buying cookies for a heartbroken girl?" His voice was laced with teasing. She shook her head ‘no’ and Jaemin’s eyes narrowed in curiosity.

You hesitated, feeling a twinge of discomfort as you answered quietly, "Haechan."

Jaemin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Haechan? He bought you cookies?" His tone was a mix of disbelief and a little bit of protectiveness.

Chenle stared at the cookie in his hand, then at you, then back at the cookie. "So, you’re telling me I’m eating Haechan’s cookies? They’re probably poisoned!"

"It’s not like I asked him to," you muttered, feeling the tension rising again. "He just… did."

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in her eyes. "He didn’t say much when he saw me outside of the cafe, just told me that Y/n needed me."

Jaemin’s frown deepened. "That’s weird. Since when does Haechan care about anyone but himself?"

You shrugged, still unsure of what to make of the gesture. "I don’t know. Maybe he’s just messing with me, trying to get under my skin."

Chaeryeong smirked. "Or maybe he’s trying to get you under him!"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah right. He’s just... being Haechan, weird."

Chaeryeong’s energy shifted immediately, her smirk softening into a more playful grin as she leaned forward, practically buzzing with excitement. "Alright, enough of this! We need to get you out of here. You’ve been drowning in all this drama for too long.”

Chenle’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, already nodding in agreement. "Yes! A night out is exactly what you need. No Jay, no Haechan—just us having fun. There is a party at Mark’s place tomorrow night." He winked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Jaemin, though quieter, gave a nod of approval. "It could be good for you, Y/n. A break from everything."

You hesitated, a part of you wanted to curl up at home and avoid the world, but another part knew that maybe they were right. You needed a break from all the chaos.

"Alright, fine," you sighed, feeling the weight on your chest lighten just a little. "I’ll go to Mark’s party tomorrow."

Chaeryeong clapped her hands together, practically glowing with excitement. "Yes! It’s going to be so much fun, I promise! Just good vibes, and you’ll finally get a chance to relax."

Chenle grinned, "That’s the spirit! Plus, you know, it’s always a good time at Mark’s. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new…"

Jaemin shot Chenle a look, silently warning him to tone it down, but Chenle just winked at you, clearly trying to keep things light.

You chuckled, feeling a small flicker of relief. "I’m not going to a party to meet someone, Chenle."

"Maybe not," Jaemin said with a small smile, "but at least you’ll be there with your friends, and that’s what matters."

The next evening, the air was buzzing with excitement as you stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the mixture of outfits Chaeryeong had scattered across your bed. She was currently looking through your closet, tossing out options as if she were styling a fashion shoot instead of just picking something for a party.

“You need something bold but effortless,” Chaeryeong declared, holding up a black, form-fitting dress before shaking her head and discarding it. “Something that says, ‘I’m here to have fun, not to impress.’ But, you know, still impressive.”

You laughed, sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched her being dramatic. "Chaeryeong, it’s just a party. I’m not trying to walk a runway."

Chenle, lounging in the corner of your room, raised an eyebrow. "No, but you’re going to Mark’s, and there’s a difference. You’ve gotta show up looking good.”

You groaned as Chaeryeong shot you a knowing look. “You don’t want to walk in looking anything less than your best. Trust me, it’ll help you feel more in control." She pulled out a green silk dress from your closet, holding it up against you. "This. It’s perfect."

You looked at the dress, hesitant. It was beautiful. "I don’t know… it’s kind of a lot."

"Exactly," Chaeryeong said with a grin. "You need a lot. Let’s remind everyone—including you—that you’re the main character tonight."

Chenle laughed, getting up from his spot. "You heard her. Tonight is your night to shine, Y/n."

Sighing, you finally stood up and took the dress from Chaeryeong’s hands. "Fine. Let’s do it."

An hour later, you were slipping on the last of your jewelry as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. The green dress hugged your curves in all the right ways, and the satin shimmered under the soft lighting of your room. Chaeryeong had helped style your hair, soft waves falling over your shoulders, and Chenle, surprisingly, had given his input on your makeup. A bold lip to contrast the simplicity of the rest of your look.

"Wow," you whispered, half in disbelief at how different you looked.

Chaeryeong stood beside you, grinning from ear to ear.

"Told you. You look amazing."

Chenle nodded, leaning in the doorway. "Everyone is gonna wish they were with you."

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder. Would they? Would Jay? Or would you finally not care?

With a final glance in the mirror, you grabbed your bag, feeling a rush of determination. Tonight was about you.

As you made your way downstairs, the sound of music and distant chatter already filled the air. Chenle and Chaeryeong followed close behind.

Chaeryeong linked her arm with yours as you stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. “Don’t let it get to you, Y/n. Just have fun tonight. Remember, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

You nodded, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts of Jay and Haechan, and all the drama that seemed to follow them like a shadow. Tonight wasn’t about them—it was about you.

The drive to Mark’s place was filled with lighthearted chatter, Chenle and Chaeryeong alternating between playful bickering and hyping you up for the night ahead. But the closer you got to the party, the more you felt the familiar nerves creeping in.

“We’re here!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, and you blinked as the car pulled up to Mark’s house. Music thumped from inside, and the soft glow of lights poured from the windows, illuminating the big crowd already gathered outside.

You took a deep breath as the three of you stepped out of the car, Chenle offering you a quick thumbs-up for encouragement. “Remember, main character energy. Let’s go.”

As you approached the front door, Mark himself appeared, grinning as he waved you inside. “Y/n! You made it!”

He gave you a quick, welcoming hug before greeting Chaeryeong and Chenle. “The party’s just getting started. Drinks are in the kitchen, and the backyard is open if you want to chill.”

You thanked him and followed the crowd into the house, trying to shake off the remaining nerves. The music, laughter, and the buzz of conversation washed over you, helping to melt away some of your worries. Chaeryeong handed you a drink, her eyes already sparkling.

“Let’s go find somewhere to sit!” she said over the music, pulling you toward the living room, where a few familiar faces were already lounging.

But before you could get comfortable, your eyes caught a familiar figure leaning against the wall near the kitchen—Haechan.

He was chatting with someone, but his gaze shifted just as you entered the room. For a split second, your eyes locked, and there was a flicker of something in his expression, though you couldn’t quite read it.

“Focus on having fun,” Chaeryeong whispered in your ear, snapping you out of your daze.

You smiled at her, grateful for the reminder, and nodded. Tonight was about fun. About letting go.

Jaemin and Jeno moved to form a spot where you could sit between them. You settled down, feeling a wave of relief as the two of them immediately began chatting, creating a comfortable bubble around you. Jeno handed you a drink with a reassuring smile.

"Looking good, Y/n."

Jeno, always the more laid-back one, nudged your shoulder. "We’ll make sure you have a good time. No drama, no distractions."

You took a sip of your drink, nodding. Their presence was calming, a much-needed escape from the whirlwind of emotions you’d been feeling lately.

Chaeryeong and Chenle were already engrossed in a conversation across from you, laughing about something Chenle said, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel at ease.

Jaemin leaned in slightly, his voice low so only you could hear. "You look amazing tonight, by the way." He smiled.

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, and before you could respond, Jeno chimed in, as if reading the moment. "Jaemin’s right. That green dress is doing wonders."

You laughed, grateful for their compliments but not wanting to dwell on it too much. "Thanks, guys. I needed this.” You took a chug from your drink.

Jaemin smiled softly. "We’re always here for you, Y/n."

You nodded, then stood up, smoothing down the hem of your dress as you glanced around the room. The music thumped louder as more people began to fill the space, and for a moment, you just stood there, letting the beat pulse through you.

"Then let’s dance," you said, gesturing toward the group of people already dancing.

Jaemin grinned, standing up and offering you his hand. "Thought you’d never ask."

Jeno followed close behind, already moving to the rhythm of the music as you all made your way to the center of the room. The bass of the music vibrated through the floor, the lights flashing in time with the beat, casting colorful patterns on the crowd around you.

As soon as you hit the dance floor, the energy shifted. The three of you fell into the rhythm easily, laughing and letting the music take over. You spun around, arms raised, carefree.

"Now this is what I like to see from you," Jaemin said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. You laughed, spinning around again, letting the moment take over.

Your heart skipped a beat when your gaze locked with Haechan from across the room. He stood near the edge of the dance floor, leaning against the wall with his usual confident smirk. His eyes were focused intently on you, watching your every move. For a moment, everything else faded—the music, the crowd, even Jaemin and Jeno’s presence

Haechan didn’t look away. Instead, his smirk deepened, almost like he knew something you didn’t, a silent challenge hanging between you.

Jaemin nudged your arm, breaking your concentration. "Hey, you good?"

You blinked, forcing a smile and nodding. "Yeah, I’m good!”

The spot where Haechan had been standing was now empty, leaving you momentarily confused.

Jaemin noticed your brief flicker of confusion. “Looking for someone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shook your head quickly. "No, just... thought I saw something."

Before Jaemin could say more, Chenle swooped in, pulling you by the wrist and pulling you towards him and Chaeryeong. “Come on! No more standing around, let’s get moving!”

You let yourself be pulled into the crowd, trying to shake the image of Haechan from your mind.

Feeling a bit drained, you excused yourself from your friends and made your way to the kitchen in search of another drink. The party was packed, and the energy was starting to get overwhelming.

After a few moments of being bumped and nudged, you decided it was best to escape the chaos. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out to the backyard, hoping for a moment of peace away from the noise and crowd.

The cool night air greeted you as you stepped outside, the sounds of laughter and music fading into the background. The backyard was a welcome contrast to the chaotic energy inside. Strings of fairy lights hung above, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating a few scattered chairs around a fire pit.

You walked toward the edge of the patio, leaning against the railing and taking a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs. The stars twinkled above like tiny diamonds, and for a moment, you lost yourself in their beauty, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

As you took a sip of your drink, you heard the door open and someone rushed out. Turning you saw Haechan. He was searching the backyard until his eyes met yours and he sighed, walking over to you.

“What do you want?” You rolled your eyes, already knowing he wasn’t the best company.

“I know you don’t exactly like me” You scoffed as he put his hands up, telling you to wait, “But I hate cheaters, so I needed to tell you.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism written across your face. “Tell me what, exactly?”

Haechan leaned against the railing beside you, his expression serious, a stark contrast to the usual playful demeanor. “No, seriously. I just saw Jay go into a room with another girl.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words crashing down. You took a moment to process what he was saying, anger and disbelief swirling within you.

“Are you sure? That sounds like something you would say to mess with me.”

“I get why you’d think that, but I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Haechan replied, frustration creeping into his tone.

“I may not be your favorite person, but I wouldn’t do that. You deserve to know the truth.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening around your drink. The reality of the situation settled over you, and you could feel your heart racing.

“Which room?”

Haechan hesitated for a moment, his gaze steady. “I don’t think you want to go in there.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, the kind that felt hollow. “Just tell me which room.”

Haechan glanced at you, a flicker of empathy crossing his features. “Upstairs, the second one on the right.”

You put your cup down and started to make your way back into the party in search of the stairs.

“Are you sure about this?” Haechan, who you didn’t even notice was following, asked you.

You nodded and moved quickly, your heart racing as you made your way through the crowd. The lively music and laughter faded into the background, drowned out by the storm of thoughts in your head. The dim lights seemed to press in, making your thoughts feel even more stressed.

As you reached the stairs, you hesitated for a brief moment, the weight of what you were about to confront hitting you like a ton of bricks. But the image of Jay with another girl flashed in your mind, fueling your determination. You needed answers. You needed to reclaim your dignity.

Going up the stairs, you felt your breath quicken. Each step seemed to echo with the anxiety of what lay ahead. Reaching the second door on the right, you paused, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You could hear muffled voices from inside, giggling mingling with the soft kissing.

Throwing open the door you felt the air leave your lungs in a rush, your heart dropping as the scene unfolded before you. Jay was on top of another woman, his hands tangled in her hair, their lips inches apart.

Time seemed to freeze as Jay’s eyes shot wide open, and the laughter from the girl faltered into a shocked silence.

“Y/n! I—” Jay stammered, scrambling to sit up, the realization of your presence crashing over him like a wave.

You didn’t let him finish. “What the hell is this?” Your voice trembled, a mix of anger and disbelief swirling within you. The hurt was too much, twisting your stomach into knots.

The girl, wide-eyed and uncomfortable, quickly shuffled away from Jay, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “I didn’t know—” she started, but you cut her off.

“Save it,” you said, directing your fury back at Jay.

“After everything I’ve done for you.”

Jay stood up fully now, his expression shifting from shock to guilt. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” he began his voice low, almost pleading.

You turned your back towards him and rushed down the stairs. You could hear him following you. So you looked for any of your friends but couldn’t find them. Instead, your eyes connect with Haechans near the bottom of the stairs.

Rushing over to him you pull him down by his shirt and whisper “sorry” before pulling him into a heated kiss.

Haechan’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he responded, his hands finding your waist as he kissed you back with an urgency that matched your own. The chaos of the party faded into the background, the pounding music replaced by the sound of your racing heart.

But before it could get any farther, you were ripped away from Haechan by the sudden appearance of a familiar voice.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jay’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and accusatory. You turned to see him standing there, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger.

Haechan stepped back, his demeanor shifting instantly from passionate to defensive.

“Just what you were doing with that other girl,” he replied, his tone challenging. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you—”

“Don’t!” Jay interrupted, stepping toward you both.

“You have no right to act like the hero here. You don’t know what’s going on.”

“I know exactly what’s going on, so if you don’t mind we were kind of doing something”, Haechan shot back, his eyes narrowing as he stepped slightly in front of you, shielding you from Jay.

You could feel the tension in the air thickening. “Haechan, stop,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. You could see the fire in his eyes, but you didn’t want this to escalate any further.

Jay’s expression twisted with frustration. “You think you can just come in and play the knight in shining armor? She’s my fucking girlfriend!”

“And you think I care?” Haechan replied, crossing his arms defiantly. “You had your chance to treat her right, and you blew it.”

Jay shook his head, thinking about what to say next, but Jay was never good with his words so he stepped forward and swung.

Haechan barely had time to react. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back. You gasped, instinctively stepping between them, your heart racing at the sudden escalation.

“Jay, what the hell?!” you shouted, adrenaline rushing through you. “This is not how you handle things!”

Jay’s face was flushed with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. “He’s a fucking piece of shit!” he snapped, breathing heavily.

Haechan regained his composure and moved around you, delivering a swift punch to Jay's jaw. The impact echoed, and Jay staggered back, eyes wide with surprise.

As they started to throw punches back and forth, you didn’t know what to do. A group of people gathered around them.

You saw Jaemin and Jeno pushing through the crowd, their expressions a mix of alarm and confusion. “What the hell is going on?” Jaemin shouted, his voice rising above the commotion.

“Y/n, get out of the way!” Jeno called out as he reached for your arm, pulling you back. You didn’t want to move, didn’t want to feel powerless while the two of them fought over you like you were some trophy for their ego.

“Stop it!” you shouted again, trying to push through the gathering crowd, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of fists connecting and the murmurs of onlookers.

Jaemin managed to get closer, stepping between Jay and Haechan. As Jeno grabbed Jay from behind to stop him from throwing any more punches.

“Both of you, enough! This isn’t the way to handle it!”

Haechan, breathing heavily, stepped back, his fists still clenched. “He deserves this, Jaemin! He cheated on her!”

Jay looked furious, “This is all his fucking fault!” He spat at Haechan.

You could see his expression begin to harden again, that familiar mask of arrogance threatening to resurface. Without thinking, you reached for his hand, gripping it tightly as you attempted to pull him away from the chaos of the crowd.

Haechan looked momentarily shocked, his eyes widening at your sudden gesture, but he didn’t resist as you led him out into the cool evening air, away from the noise. As you stepped into the front yard, you pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber.

“What are you doing?” Haechan asked, his voice low, and filled with confusion. His hand was still in yours, but he made no move to pull away, his gaze locked on your face.

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat as the reality of the moment started to sink in. What were you doing?

“I needed to get out of there,” you admitted quietly, your grip loosening slightly, but you didn’t let go.

His eyes softened, just a little, the hardness from earlier fading as he studied you.

"Okay."

Haechan sat down on the curb of the road and gestured for you to sit down next to him.

You hesitated for a moment, then quietly sat beside him on the curb, the cool pavement grounding you.

“So, how are we going to get back at him?” you asked, your voice low but edged with determination.

Haechan turned toward you, eyes narrowing in surprise. “What?”

You met his gaze, a fire igniting within you. "Jay. How are we going to make him regret everything?"

Haechan blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He studied your face for a long second as if trying to gauge whether you were serious. Then, a slow, knowing smirk curled on his lips.

“Are you sure you’re ready to play that game?” he asked, voice dripping with amusement.

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of his question sink in. Was this really what you wanted? A part of you knew it was reckless, that using Haechan to get back at Jay could only make things worse.

“I need to hurt him,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “If he wants to treat me like I’m nothing, then maybe it’s time I show him I don’t need him.”

Haechan's smirk deepened, a glint of something dangerous flickering in his eyes. “Alright, then. Let’s make this interesting.”

Before the two of you could come up with an actual plan, the Uber showed up. You exchanged a quick look with Haechan before giving the driver your address.

The ride was quiet, you could feel Haechan’s gaze lingering on you but you didn’t want to say anything so you settled for looking out the window.

When the car finally pulled up in front of your apartment, you stepped out, turning back to wait for him. Haechan, still sitting in the backseat, raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, his voice casual, but his eyes searched yours.

You gestured for him to follow. “Come on.”

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing his options. Then, with a slight shrug, he climbed out of the car, closing the door behind him.

“Is there a reason you’re taking me back to your house?” Haechan teased, his tone playful as always, though his eyes held a hint of curiosity.

You shot him a glance, rolling your eyes. “Look at you. You look awful, and I know you’re not smart enough to clean an open wound.”

Haechan smirked, following you toward your apartment door. “I didn’t realize I was so lucky to have a personal nurse.”

You ignored his sarcasm, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Just sit down and let me handle it before you get an infection.”

As he walked in, his usual cocky demeanor softened slightly. He never thought you two would be talking again. Not after he was such a huge jerk to you.

He sank onto the couch, watching you as you moved through the small space, grabbing your first aid kit from under the sink. There was an awkward quiet that hung between you two, but you didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Returning to the living room, you set the kit on the coffee table and crouched in front of him, carefully opening it up.

“You know, I can do this myself,” Haechan said, but his voice lacked its usual teasing bite.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, reaching for the antiseptic.

“Like I trust you not to make it worse.”

He chuckled, though there was an unspoken tension behind it. As you gently cleaned the small cuts and scrapes, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become, his gaze occasionally flickering to your face.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer than you expected. "I didn’t punch him because of you, I did it because he’s a jerk."

You paused for a second, looking up at him, your hands still resting on him. “It’s the least I can do,” you admitted honestly. “Since you told me.”

Haechan sighed, his eyes drifting around your living room. His gaze lingered on the little details—pictures on the wall, the books stacked messily on the coffee table—before he turned back to you, something softer in his expression.

"Done," you said, pulling your hands away after finishing with his wounds.

He flexed his hand, testing the bandages, and gave you a small, almost appreciative nod. "Thanks..." His voice was low, the teasing gone entirely.

You just shrugged, trying to brush off the weight of the moment. "Don’t get used to it," you said with a small smile, but there was no real bite to your words.

Haechan met your eyes, something unreadable passing between you before he looked away again. "I owe you."

“I will remember that!” you laughed, getting up from the floor and brushing off your pants. “I’m tired, you can sleep on the couch. I’ll bring you some pillows.”

Haechan watched you with an amused expression, his eyes glinting. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to crash on your couch.”

“Too bad,” you shot back playfully, heading toward the closet. “You look like you need the rest after everything. Plus, I don't want to be responsible for you bleeding out.”

“Fair point,” he conceded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

You returned with a couple of pillows and a blanket, handing them to him. “Here you go.”

“Wow, you are going all out,” he teased, settling into the couch, clearly enjoying this.

“Do I get breakfast too, or is that pushing it?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you replied with a mock glare.

“You can make yourself breakfast. Just don’t burn the place down.”

Haechan quietly laughed before getting comfortable on the couch, sinking into the pillows you had brought him. His relaxed posture seemed to shift the atmosphere in the room, making it feel more relaxed.

“Just so you know,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow, “this isn’t going to become a regular thing. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Right, the infamous Haechan, the bad boy who no one can take seriously.” you teased, rolling your eyes as you left to go to your room.

As you closed the door to your room, you leaned against it for a moment, allowing yourself to breathe.

You tossed your phone onto the bed and plopped down beside it. After a moment, you set a timer for the morning, letting exhaustion pull you into sleep.

Morning light filtered through your curtains, you stirred as your alarm beeped. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you stretched and glanced at the clock. You had meant to wake up early, but the memories of last night lingered in your mind, making it hard to move.

You climbed out of bed, the floor cool against your feet, and made your way to the bathroom. After quickly brushing your teeth and throwing on some comfortable clothes, you headed toward the kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the room.

You found the blanket neatly folded on the couch and the pillows stacked up next to it, but no sign of Haechan. A small frown formed on your face. But what did you expect? You weren’t friends just because he fought your ex. He said it himself that it wasn’t for you. He just wanted an excuse to hit Jay.

Pushing the thought aside, you took a deep breath and focused on getting ready for class. You stepped into your bathroom, splashing your face with cold water to shake off the remnants of sleep. After putting on some makeup and brushing your hair, you throw on a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized sweater.

As you walked back into your bedroom, you noticed your phone lighting up with a message. You grabbed it, and messages from your friends filled your phone.

Chenle: THAT WAS CRAZY!! ARE YOU OKAY??

Jaemin: Hey, let me know when you’re home!! <3

Jaemin: You probably fell asleep, let me know when you are awake <3

Jeno: Are you okay? Jaemin and I took care of the problem (⪰∀⪯）

Chaeryeong: I saw you leave with Haehcan!! GURRL YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!!

After a moment, you replied to everyone letting them know you were okay.

With your bag slung over your shoulder. You walked towards campus, your mind still racing with thoughts about Haechan.

When you arrived, you navigated through the crowd of students, your mind drifting between the classes you had lined up for the day.

As you made your way to your first lecture, you spotted a familiar face across the quad. It was your friend, Chaeryeong, waving enthusiastically. You quickened your pace to meet her.

“Y/n! There you are!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming to class!”

“You know I can’t afford to miss a class,” you laugh.

“Okay, I’ve waited enough! Tell me everything!” she said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as you both walked towards the lecture hall.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “Well, Haechan stayed over last night after everything that happened with Jay.”

Chaeryeong raised her eyebrows, a teasing grin spreading across her face. “Oh? Look at you getting cozy with the enemy!”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide your smile. “It’s not like that. I felt bad, dragging him into all of this.”

“He was always in this,” she said, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You nodded, the weight of her words settling in your mind. “I know, but this doesn’t mean we are friends.”

Chaeryeong shook her head, and the two of you entered the lecture hall, finding your seats. As the professor began speaking, you turned to whisper to Chaeryoung, leaning in slightly to keep your conversation discreet.

“Let’s not tell the guys about me going home with Haechan... I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

Chaeryoung nodded and turned back to focus on the lecture.

“I’m going to go eat something, I didn’t get to have breakfast,” you said, rubbing your stomach lightly to emphasize your point.

“You’re so lucky to have a break between classes” Chaeryoung groaned, “I have two more classes before I can even get food.”

“You’re the one that wanted all morning classes”

“Yeah because the night is for parting not for studying.” Chaeryoung rolled her eyes.

You shoved her playfully before splitting up and heading towards the café and sitting in the same spot you did last time.

“Okay, you have to stop stealing my spot,” an annoyingly familiar voice said, breaking your focus from the menu. You looked up to find Haechan standing there, an amused smile on his face.

You raised an eyebrow, faking annoyance. “Still doesn’t have your name on it. This is a public café.”

“Sure, but you know it’s my favorite spot,” he retorted, sliding into the seat next to you. “I always sit here to people-watch between classes.”’

You couldn’t help but laugh at his mock-serious expression. “I don’t care right now, I’m starving.”

He chuckled, glancing at the menu before leaning back in his chair. “What are you getting?.”

“I was thinking about a bagel and some coffee,” you replied, glancing over the options again.

“Boring,” he declared dramatically, shaking his head. “Get the avocado toast. It’s amazing here.”

You rolled your eyes. “So you can steal it? You’re not even hiding your motives.”

He shrugged, an innocent look plastered on his face. “What can I say? I have exquisite taste.”

“Exquisite taste?” you repeated, unable to suppress a laugh. “That’s a big word for you.”

“You’re supposed to be nicer to me now!” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I did rescue you from that jerk, remember?”

“Rescue is a strong word,” you countered, trying to keep a straight face. “You threw a punch….and then I had to pull you away.”

“Details, details,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider. “I’ll get an order for two avocado toasts.”

“Really?!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up with excitement.

You gestured for him to get up so you could slide out of the booth. “Yeah, but only because you’re annoying and I don’t want to hear you complain. But you’re coming with me to order it.”

“Yay!” Haechan stood up and followed you to the counter, the playful banter continuing as you both approached the register.

As you placed the order, he leaned against the counter, watching you with a teasing smile. “What if I said I wanted extra everything? You’re still paying?”

You laughed, shaking your head as the barista rang up your order. “Is that all?”

You nodded your head, “Yep, that’s all.” You reached into your pocket for your card, but before you could find it, Haechan pulled out his and handed it to the barista.

“Hey, what are you doing?” you protested.

“Just treating you to breakfast,” he said nonchalantly, leaning against the counter as if it was no big deal.

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “For what? You were the one who punched my ex, remember?”

“Exactly,” he replied with a smirk. “I’ve been wanting to mess up his face for a while!”

The barista handed Haechan back his card, and he turned to you with a victorious grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, I’ll let you have this one. But only because I’m starving.”

As you both moved to the side to wait for your order, the door to the café bell rang. You looked to the side and saw it was Jay and his friends.

“Shit!” you mumbled under your breath, your stomach sinking as you tried to think of an escape plan.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as Jay’s laughter echoed through the café. He spotted you almost immediately, his expression turning sour.

You could see him making his way to you, so you did the only thing that felt like it would hurt him.

You grabbed Haechan’s shirt, pulling him closer to you as you leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a quick, aggressive kiss.

Haechan froze for a moment, clearly taken aback. But he quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you back.

The reaction was immediate. Jay’s expression shifted from confusion to fury, his friends exchanging glances as the tension in the room skyrocketed. You could feel Haechan smirking against your lips, clearly enjoying the situation.

As you pulled away, Haechan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Didn’t know paying for your lunch would make you want to kiss me,” he asked, while a grin tugged at his lips.

“Jay is here,” you whispered, low enough so no one else could hear you.

Jay’s glare burned into you, and he scoffed, crossing his arms. “You think that’s going to make me jealous? You’re pathetic.”

You felt a rush of boldness. “If you’re so over it, why do you care?” you shot back, feeling bold because of Haechan’s presence.

Jay opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything further, Haechan stepped in front of you, his posture protective. “You really should find a new hobby, Jay. This isn’t working for you,” he said, his tone calm yet firm.

Jay’s face turned a shade redder, his boldness faltering. “Whatever. I don’t need this.” He turned on his heel, storming out with his friends trailing behind, their laughter fading as they exited the café.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glancing up at Haechan. “He was so mad.”

Haechan chuckled, his eyes still sparkling with amusement. “I have a plan!”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but curious. “Oh no, should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” Haechan replied, that mischievous grin still playing on his lips. “But if you want to make him furious, we’re going to have to turn it up a notch.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” you asked cautiously, folding your arms.

“Simple,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “We pretend that we are hooking up. Just for a little while. You know how much it’ll eat at him.”

Your eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Haechan shrugged, clearly enjoying the drama of it all.

“It’ll be fun. And the look on his face when he realizes you’ve completely moved on? Priceless.”

You paused, considering it for a moment. As ridiculous as it sounded, the idea had some appeal. Jay seeing you with someone else, especially Haechan, would drive him nuts. And the more you thought about it, the more tempting it became.

“Okay, let’s say I go along with this,” you began slowly. “What’s in it for you?”

Haechan’s grin widened. “I get to have the time of my life watching Jay go insane.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’s genius,” Haechan said, leaning back against the counter with a self-satisfied smirk. “

We’ll be the hottest ‘couple’ in the room, and Jay won’t know what hit him.”

You bit your lip, still hesitant but intrigued by the idea. “Fine,” you finally said. “But don’t get any ideas. This is strictly for show.”

Haechan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Of course. Strictly business. But trust me, this is going to be fun.”

After finishing lunch with Haechan, you went through the rest of your day—attending lectures, trying to focus, but your mind kept drifting back to the café incident.

Haechan’s ridiculous plan echoed in your head, and you couldn't help but replay Jay's angry expression over and over again.

By the time your classes were over, you were mentally exhausted. Having dinner with your friends sounded like a nice break after a hectic day. As you approached the dining hall, you spotted Chaeryeong waving you over to the usual table where the others were already gathered—Jaemin, Jeno, and Chenle.

You slid into the seat next to Chaeryeong, who immediately gave you a curious glance. “So, how was the rest of your day?”

“Eventful,” you said with a sigh.

Jaemin perked up, overhearing the exchange. “Eventful?”

You hesitated, not sure how much to share. “Just... ran into Jay and his friends at lunch.”

The table went quiet for a second before Chenle raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And... Haechan was there,” you added, not wanting to dive into all the details.

Chenle laughed, breaking the tension. “Oh man, I bet that was awkward.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, exchanging a glance with Chaeryeong, who seemed to already know there was more to the story.

Jeno, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. “What did Haechan do?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Jaemin cut in.

“Wait, wait—are you guys friends now?”

You paused, unsure how to answer that question, especially with Haechan’s ridiculous plan in the back of your mind. “Not... exactly,” you said vaguely.

Jeno looked confused. “What does that even mean?”

Chaeryeong, always the perceptive one, smirked slightly but stayed quiet, watching the situation unfold.

You shrugged. “It just means things are complicated. Let’s just eat.”

But you could tell from the looks on your friends' faces that this wasn’t the last you’d hear about Haechan and Jay.

Your phone rang, and you glanced down, spotting Haechan’s name on the screen. You sighed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos he was about to bring into your life.

“What do you want?” you asked as you answered, your voice laced with mock annoyance.

“Party this weekend,” Haechan's voice was full of excitement. “We need to go! Everyone’s going to be there.”

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “And why, exactly, do I need to go to this party?”

“What, you don’t want to kiss me again,” he said with a teasing tone. “Plus, everyone is going to be there so it’s perfect.”

You could already imagine him grinning on the other end of the line, fully expecting you to give in. “Haechan, I’m not exactly in the mood for another party.”

“Come on,” he whined. “It’s not just any party. Jay’s gonna be there.”

“Fine, okay,” you finally said, giving in with a sigh. You could practically hear the grin in Haechan's voice.

“Perfect! I’ll pick you up at eight on Friday. You’re not going to regret it, trust me.”

“I’m already regretting this,” you muttered, but a small part of you was excited. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad—if nothing else, you’d get a chance to make Jay uncomfortable, and that was starting to sound more appealing.

“Just make sure you’re ready,” Haechan added. “And wear something… you know, sexy.”

“Sexy?” you repeated skeptically.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “See you then!”

As the call ended, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and unease. This party could either be a disaster or the perfect chance to move on from Jay and get a little revenge. Either way, things were about to get interesting.

The week flew by in a blur of classes, assignments, and quick meals with friends. Before you knew it, Friday had arrived, and you found yourself staring at your closet, trying to figure out what Haechan meant by "something sexy."

You groaned, pulling out outfit after outfit, none of them feeling right. Tonight wasn’t just any night. If Jay was going to be at this party, you wanted to make him regret cheating on you.

You gave up, settling on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. As you finished getting ready, you glanced at the time. Almost eight.

Just as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you heard a knock on your door. Taking one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your jacket and opened the door.

“Took you long enough!” Haechan teased, eyeing your outfit with a dramatic shake of his head.

“What?” you asked, already sensing the criticism coming.

“This won’t do,” he said with exaggerated disappointment. Before you could protest, he sighed and gently pushed you back into the house. “Where’s your closet?”

“Haechan, I’m not changing!” you called after him as he made a beeline for your bedroom.

“You are if you want to make everyone jealous,” he insisted, already rummaging through your clothes as if he owned the place. “Jeans and a black T-shirt? Come on, Y/n, we’re supposed to be putting on a show.”

You rolled your eyes, half-amused, half-annoyed. “My outfit doesn't matter.”

He grinned, pulling out a sleek black dress you had tucked away. “This is perfect.”

You hesitated for a second, glancing at the dress. It was short, definitely not what you had planned, but you had to admit, Haechan had a point.

You sighed, eyeing the dress Haechan held up. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replied, his grin widening as he shoved the dress into your hands. “Come on, Y/n. You want to show Jay what he’s missing, right?”

You hesitated for a moment longer, looking between Haechan and the dress. You wouldn’t ever wear that if you were just going out with your friends. You didn’t have the confidence, but Haechan somehow gave you confidence.

“Fine,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you snatched the dress from him. “But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” Haechan smirked, plopping down on your bed and crossing his arms. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

You disappeared into the bathroom, slipping into the dress and staring at yourself in the mirror. It was outside your usual comfort zone, you couldn’t deny you looked good.

Stepping out, you found Haechan waiting, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, there was no teasing grin, just a flicker of surprise before he quickly masked it.

“See? Now this is how you get everyone’s attention,” he said, standing up. “Jay’s gonna be so jealous.”

His eyes lingered on you a little too long, and the sudden intenseness made you feel exposed. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to shield the self-consciousness creeping up.

Haechan reached out gently, his fingers brushing against your wrists as he pulled your arms away from your body.

“Hey, none of that,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly tender. “You look amazing. Own it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. His usual playful arrogance was replaced with something… different, almost like he wanted you to feel confident tonight. The teasing smirk was still there, but his eyes held something deeper.

“You think this is gonna work?” you asked, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

Haechan grinned, his usual swagger returning as he let go of your arms. “Oh, it’s definitely going to work. Jay’s not going to know what hit him. And more importantly, you’re going to have the best time.”

You took a deep breath, trying to match Haechan’s confidence. “Okay, let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Relax, we’re gonna have fun.” Haechan shot you a wink before opening the door.

“Trust me.”

And for some reason, in that moment, you kind of did.

The party was in full swing by the time you and Haechan arrived. The music was loud, the lights were flashing, and the air was thick.

“Hold on for a moment, I need to find Mark really quick” Haechan immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving you on your own. You should have known you two wouldn’t have stayed together the whole night.

You made your way to the kitchen, needing a moment to collect yourself before facing Jay. As you poured yourself a drink, a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Well, well, well, look who it is.”

You turned to see Jay leaning against the counter, a smug smile on his face. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Surprised to see me?” you shot back, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not at all,” Jay replied, his eyes trailing over your figure. “Although I must say, this wasn’t exactly what I expected.”

“You don’t get to have any expectations,” You snapped, trying to sound confident despite not feeling it. “I wear what I want.”

Jay chuckled, leaning in closer. “You never wore that when I was with you.”

“Past tense,” you emphasized, setting your drink down with more force than necessary. “Things change, Jay. Clearly.”

His smile paused for a moment before he masked it with a shrug. “Finally got bored of that douchebag.”

“Yeah, but I guess he hasn’t taken the hint since he’s right here, talking to me.”

Jay's smug expression deepened, but you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down.

“Y/N?” His tone was dripping with arrogance. “Do you think Haechan is any better than me? He’s just having fun with you until he gets bored.”

You felt the sting of his words, but you weren’t going to let him get to you. You leaned in slightly, your voice steady.

“Maybe. But at least he’s better in bed.”

Jay's jaw tightened, clearly not expecting that response. He opened his mouth to say something, but a voice cut through the tension.

“This is just sad,” Haechan's voice rang out as he walked over, a cool smirk playing on his lips. “She already found someone better.”

Jay straightened up, glaring at Haechan, but didn’t say anything. The silence between the three of you was heavy, but you could sense that Jay was weighing his options. After a beat, he scoffed and stepped back.

“You’re not worth my time,” Jay muttered, giving you one last look before turning on his heel and storming out of the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Haechan gave you a sideways glance, his smirk softening into something almost... concerned.

“You alright?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter as if nothing had happened.

You nodded, still feeling the adrenaline from the confrontation. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Good. Because I have a better idea for the rest of the night. Let’s make him regret ever speaking to you.”

You blinked at him, intrigued. “What are you planning now?”

Haechan grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’ll see. But first, we need more drinks to loosen up.”

Haechan’s grin widened as he grabbed two cups from the counter, handing one to you. You hesitated, still feeling the lingering tension from your run-in with Jay, but something about the way Haechan looked at you made it impossible to say no.

“Let’s party,” he said, raising his cup.

You clinked your cup against him, taking a sip before following him back into the crowded living room. The music pulsed through the space, people dancing and talking in tight clusters. Haechan was already scanning the room, clearly looking for the next move.

“What exactly is this plan of yours?” you asked, trying to read his expression.

He shot you a playful look. “Oh, it’s simple. We just need to make it look like we’re having the best time ever—together. You know, give Jay a little show.” He winked, clearly enjoying himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So, you plan to make Jay jealous again?”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, pulling you closer to him as a new song began to play. “Let’s see how he likes watching us have all the fun.”

Before you could protest, Haechan spun you around, guiding you into the makeshift dance floor. The bass vibrated under your feet as he moved effortlessly, a confident smirk still plastered on his face. Despite yourself, you found yourself laughing, his energy contagious. You couldn’t deny how easy it was to get swept up in the moment with him.

As the two of you danced, you noticed Jay standing across the room, watching with a clenched jaw. It was clear that Haechan’s plan was working. You caught Jay’s eye for a split second before deliberately looking away, focusing entirely on Haechan. The warmth of his hand on your waist and the way he smiled at you as if no one else mattered, made you forget about everything for a moment.

“See?” Haechan said, leaning close to your ear, his voice barely audible over the music. “Told you it would work.”

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Jay pushing his friends away and keeping his eyes on you two, clearly frustrated. You grinned. “Maybe you’re right. But don’t let it go to your head.”

Haechan chuckled, spinning you again before pulling you close. “Too late for that.”

Haechan leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Are you ready for the real show?” You nodded as Haechan started to lead you out of the crowd.

As Haechan started to lead you up the stairs, your heart was pounding. The noise from the party below faded slightly with each step, leaving just the two of you in a quiet bubble. His hand remained firmly on your hips, his grip surprisingly reassuring despite the teasing smirk still playing on his lips.

”He’s following us.” Haechan whispered as he led you into a room, purposely leaving the door slightly open.

Your heart skipped a beat as Haechan whispered those words, confirming what you had suspected. Jay was trailing behind, just as Haechan had expected.

Once inside the dimly lit room, Haechan stood in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. He motioned for you to stand near the bed, his smirk fading into something more serious, though his playfulness never completely disappeared.

“We're putting on a show, right?” he murmured, keeping his voice low. "Might as well give him something to really lose his mind over."

Your breath caught in your throat as you processed his words. This whole thing was a game—one meant to drive Jay crazy—but there was something in the way Haechan was looking at you now that made it feel a little too real.

The faint sound of footsteps approaching the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Jay was getting closer, tension growing thicker with each passing second.

Without thinking, you took a step toward Haechan. He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting to see what you would do next.

You reached up, touching the side of his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. His eyes locked with yours, full of unspoken words. At that moment, you knew this was more than just a plan to him.

"You're right," you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. "It's time for the real show."

Haechan's eyes widened slightly at your words, his breath hitching in anticipation. Without another word, you took a step closer and then another, until you were just inches apart. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it was intoxicating.

As Jay reached the door and saw the two of you so close together, he froze, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before him. It was clear that he had never expected things to go this far.

You felt a surge of adrenaline as you leaned in, closing the gap between you and Haechan. His lips met yours in a rush of heat and urgency.

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist and pull you into him even closer, deepening the kiss even more.

As your lips moved together, you could sense Haechan's eagerness, his fingers trailing along your skin as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist a little harder than before as he pushed you softly onto the bed.

The room seemed to spin around you as Haechan hovered over you, his gaze intense and filled with a raw hunger that sent shivers down your spine. Jay's shocked silence from the doorway only added to the adrenaline.

Haechan's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he peppered more along your collarbone.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Haechan's hands roamed over your body.

Haechan pulled away slightly to look into your eyes. Once he saw that you weren’t uncomfortable, he grabbed the bottom of your dress and moved it up slightly to expose more skin.

Haehcan groaned slightly as he saw your panties were starting to get wet.

“Mmm all for me?” He traced his fingers along the edge of your lace underwear before looking back up at you with a teasing smile that made your heart race even faster than it already was.

You nodded slightly in response and bit your lower lip nervously.

“Use your words, princess. Haechan murmured, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible above a murmur. "All for you."

The words sent a wave of pleasure through Haechan's body as he leaned down, his lips just brushing against your neck, sending more chills down your spine.

"You’re such a good girl for me," Haechan growled, his voice low with lust.

Before you could respond, he pulled your dress up further, exposing even more of your body completely to him. His eyes lingered on your panties for a moment before he pulled them aside, gently tracing the outer edges of your folds with his finger.

A soft moan escaped your lips as Haechan’s finger brushed against your sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Haechan,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Haechan smirked, his eyes never leaving yours.

He leaned down, slowly tracing his tongue along the outline of your panties before pulling them off completely.

You shivered as he gently blew on your heated skin.

“You ready?” Haechan murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, but you nodded quickly, desperate for more of his touch.

Haechan gently pushed your legs apart, revealing yourself to him completely. He stared at you for a moment, taking in every detail of your aroused body before leaning down to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips were warm and soft, sending shivers through you with every touch. As he trailed kisses higher and higher, your breath hitched.

A soft moan escaped from between your lips as Haechan's tongue flicked against the sensitive lips. He continued to tease you, his touch never quite reaching the place you desperately wanted him to be.

You squirmed beneath him, desperate for his touch, but he refused to give in. The teasing was almost unbearable. Your heart raced as you felt him moving closer, but still, he denied you.

Finally, just when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, Haechan pushed your legs further apart and dove between them without holding back. His tongue danced across your heated skin as he explored every inch of you.

Your back arched off the bed as you felt him start to get hard on your leg. You threw your head back, gasping for air as a wave of pleasure hit you.

Haechan continued, his tongue never faltering in its job to bring you to a place of pleasure. You felt amazing.

It wasn't long before the pleasure became too much to bear. A strong climax exploded through you.

You moaned his name, the sound echoing through the room as you came apart in his arms, your entire body shaking uncontrollably.

Once your body has relaxed, your breaths came in ragged gasps as you tried to catch your breath.

Haechan laid beside you, his eyes locked on your face as he continued to pant softly.

As you came back down to earth you got up from the bed, making Haechan sit up to watch what you were doing.

You got onto your knees right in front of him.

"Now it’s your turn," you said softly, your eyes meeting his. You could see the hunger in Haechan's eyes, causing you to squeeze your thighs together.

Haechan raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief lurking in his expression.

As he sat there, his gaze locked on yours, he slowly undid his jeans, letting them fall to the floor.

You couldn't help but gaze at him as he stood there before you, every inch of him screaming for your touch.

Your heart raced as you reached out to touch him, your fingers tracing a path down his chest and onto his stomach.

He shivered as your touch reached his stomach, but he didn't stop you. You continued to explore every inch of him, your fingers tracing the definition of his muscles, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

As you reached the waistband of his boxers, you hesitated for a moment, uncertainty playing in your mind. But Haechan's eyes never left yours, urging you on.

With a deep breath, your hand dipped beneath the waistband, your fingers brushing against him. A soft moan escaped his lips, his eyes flickering shut for a moment before he opened them again, meeting yours once more.

You wrapped your hand around him gently, feeling him grow harder in your grasp. The warmth from him was intoxicating.

As you began to stroke him slowly, his eyes searched yours.

With a soft nod, you conveyed your permission through your eyes. And Haechan's gaze darkened, and his hunger became more pronounced. He reached out and slid your dress up and off, his fingers tracing down your arms as he removed it.

As the garment fell away, Haechan pulled you closer and gently moved your hair away from his face.

You moved closer to him as you licked the tip of his length.

Haechan let out a soft groan as your tongue flicked against him. You took him into your mouth slowly, savoring the taste of him. Haechan's eyes fluttered shut as you moved your tongue.

Haechan let out a small gasp as he hit the back of your throat, enjoying every second of it. You swirl your tongue around him.

He watched you intently, his eyes drinking at the sight of you on your knees before him, your hair falling down your back.

You lapped at him gently, your tongue tracing circles around his head. Haechan's hands gripped your hair tight, his knuckles turning white as he tried to hold onto something in this moment.

As you felt him start to thrust into your mouth, you took him deeper, your throat contracting around him as he began to lose control.

Haechan groaned loudly, his hands gripping your hair tighter, pulling you deeper into himself. His hips bucked uncontrollably, every muscle in his body tense as he was looking for his release.

You could feel his arousal growing more intense within your grasp. The sight of Haechan losing control above you sent shivers down your spine.

Finally, with a loud groan, Haechan thrust deep into your throat, a wave of pleasure washing over him as he came.

You felt his hot seed fill your throat, and the sensation was overwhelming.

Your body shook as Haechan's release flooded your senses, and you savored every moment of it. As he began to soften, you gently withdrew from him, the evidence of what happened dripping from your lips.

Haechan's eyes fluttered open, and he pulled you into his arms, his mind blurred with pleasure. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tracing the contours of your mouth, tasting himself on you.

As the two of you pulled away from each other you looked at the door and noticed Jay was gone. Not even noticing that he left.

You exchanged a knowing look with Haechan, both of you smiling. It seemed like the plan worked.

As you disentangled yourselves from each other, Haechan glanced down at your still-dripping lips. "We should probably clean up," he said, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, feeling heat in your cheeks as you headed back to the bathroom that was connected to the room.

As you cleaned up, you couldn't help but start to feel a little embarrassed. But Haechan's gentle touch and reassuring words made you feel at ease once again. He helped you clean up, his hands moving gently over your body as he wiped away the evidence of what just happened.

As the water ran into the sink, the two of you stood close, your eyes meeting in the mirror above.

When you were finished cleaning up, Haechan led you back to the bed, making sure to shut the door this time before making himself comfortable in bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. You could feel his heart beating against your back, his breath warm on your neck.

"Get some sleep," he whispered, his voice barely a murmur.

“We can’t stay here.” You whispered back, your voice laced with a hint of anxiety.

Haechan's arms tightened around you, his grip comforting and reassuring. “It’s Mark’s room, I already asked if we could use it.”

You sighed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. It wasn't the most ideal situation, but it was better than going home this tired.

As you snuggled closer to Haechan, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

"Thank you," you hum.

Haechan whispered back, “Shhh don’t thank me."

Soon after, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and drifting off to the sound of each other's breathing. And as you slept, the two of you knew that whatever was going on between you just got a lot more serious.

As you slumped into your seat at the dining hall, Chenle grinned at you from across the table. “Why do you look like you just went through hell?”

You glared at him. “Thanks, Chenle. Needed that today.”

Before you could respond, Jaemin chimed in with a smug look. “She went to Mark’s party last night.”

Your eyes widened, taken aback by how he knew. “Wait, how did you—?”

“Life360,” Jaemin said, cutting you off with a proud grin. “I check everyone’s location before I go to sleep.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Of course you do.”

Chaeryeong, who had been quietly listening, suddenly leaned forward, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Hold up…are we just going to ignore the fact that you went to Mark’s party without us?”

You sighed, already sensing the upcoming interrogation. “Guys, it’s not a big deal—”

“Please tell me you didn’t go with Jay!” Jaemin interjected, shaking his head like he couldn’t even believe it.

“No!” you snapped back, fed up with hearing his name.

“Then who?” Jeno asked, leaning in with curiosity.

You hesitated, looking around the table before mumbling, “Haechan…”

The silence that followed was loud. Chaeryeong’s jaw dropped while Chenle and Jeno exchanged glances. Jaemin was the first to break the silence, raising an eyebrow.

“Haechan? Seriously?”

The table went silent again, all eyes turning to you as your last word hung in the air.

“Haechan?” Chaeryeong echoed, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You went to a party with Haechan and didn’t tell us?”

You groaned, running a hand over your face. “It wasn’t like that.”

Chenle smirked, clearly entertained. “I don’t know… going to a party together, leaving us out of the loop—seems kinda suspicious.”

You groaned again, feeling their eyes on you like a shot light.

“It’s not what you think!”

“Then you better start explaining,” Chaeryeong said, crossing her arms. “Because we all know how this sounds.”

“I didn’t even plan to go! He convinced me at the last minute,” you defended yourself, glancing around the table. “And then Jay showed up, so Haechan… helped me avoid him.”

Jeno let out a small laugh. “So Haechan was your knight in shining armor, again?”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “He just wanted to mess with Jay. It wasn’t about me.”

“Still,” Chaeryeong leaned in, lowering her voice dramatically, “Did you spend the night with him?”

Instead of responding, you groaned and buried your face in your hands, too exhausted to deal with the flood of questions.

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically. “Oh my God! You did sleep with him, didn’t you?!”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “I promise it was all part of a plan!”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “A plan? What kind of plan involves you sleeping with Haechan?”

Chenle leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, I’m dying to hear this one.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “We knew Jay would hate it, okay? It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”

Chaeryeong’s eyes widened even more. “Wait—So how did Jay know you two slept together?!”

“Well— um, he was right outside the door…”

Chaeryeong’s jaw practically dropped to the floor. “Wait. Wait. Jay heard you two through the door?!”

You squirmed in your seat, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares. “Not just heard us...”

Jaemin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He watched you two have sex?!”

Chenle, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t know you were into that,”

”I’m not!” You tried to defend yourself, “and it wasn’t even full-on sex!”

Chenle let out a high-pitched laugh, and Jeno shook his head, “Let me get this straight…You gave Haechan a blowjob while Jay was watching…”

“I mean if you put it like that it sounds weird…”

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide with shock and amusement. “Oh my God, Y/n!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands again. “It wasn’t like that!” you tried to explain, your voice muffled by your hands. “It just… happened!”

Chenle was practically doubled over with laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. “Honestly, this is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

Jeno sighed, trying to hold back his grin. “Okay, but seriously, what are you going to do now? You can’t just pretend nothing happened.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I know.”

Jaemin looked at you sympathetically, his voice softer now. “Do you like him?”

You took a deep breath and didn’t answer.

The table fell silent, everyone waiting for your response. You could feel their eyes on you, especially Jaemin, as he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to speak.

Finally, you exhaled, avoiding their gazes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice quieter than usual.

“It’s all so confusing. I didn’t expect any of this to happen, and now… I don’t know how I feel.”

Chaeryeong, always the first to jump in, sighed dramatically. “Well, if you don’t know, that’s already saying something. Maybe there’s more to this than you think.”

Chenle, now composed from his earlier laughing fit, added, “Honestly if it was just to get back at Jay, you wouldn’t be this torn up about it.”

Jeno nodded in agreement. “He’s right. You’ve got to figure out if this was just a one-time thing or if there’s something between you and Haechan.”

Jaemin stayed quiet, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to not have all the answers yet,” he said gently. “But don’t ignore how you’re feeling just because it’s complicated.”

You groaned, “I’m just going to pretend like nothing happened and avoid him.”

The group groaned in unison, making you roll your eyes.

“That’s what we said not to do, Y/n,” Jeno said, shaking his head. “You can’t just avoid the guy forever.”

Chaeryeong crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “And you know Haechan. He’s not exactly the type to let things go.”

Chenle leaned forward, grinning mischievously. “Plus, avoiding him will just make him chase you even more.” You sighed, slumping in your chair.

Jaemin gave you a soft smile, his eyes kind. “Whatever you decide, we’re here for you. Just… don’t run away from it. If you need time, take it, but don’t bury your feelings.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of their advice. “Okay, fine. I’ll talk to him… eventually.”

The group exchanged knowing looks, but no one pushed you further. At least, not yet.

It’s settled, you're going to avoid him. But of course, that didn’t go as smoothly as you hoped. Every time you tried to slip past him, he somehow spotted you first. It became a game of cat and mouse.

The awkwardness grew with each interaction, especially when you’d catch his eyes from across a room and immediately turn to flee. And as if that weren’t bad enough, your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Texts, missed calls, even voice messages. Haechan was relentless.

“Y/n, can we talk? This is ridiculous.”

“Avoiding me isn’t gonna make this disappear.”

“At least hear me out before running.”

You groaned every time your phone lit up with his name. The tension built up so much that even your friends were getting fed up with your avoidance tactic.

“I told you he wouldn’t just drop it,” Chenle teased, scrolling through his phone as you sat together in the library.

Jaemin, who was sitting next to you, gave a gentle nudge. “You can’t keep this up forever, Y/n.”

You knew they were right, but the idea of actually facing Haechan—after everything—felt overwhelming. What would you even say? What did he want to say? The questions kept swirling in your mind, making it harder to act.

A small cough interrupted your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. You glanced up to see Haechan standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and a determined look on his face. The library was quiet, and it felt like the world had paused at that moment.

“How?” You looked back at your two friends who tried not to make eye contact with you.

”Traitors…” You mumbled.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice steady but it was laced with a hint of vulnerability.

You felt your heart race, the urge to run was almost overwhelming. “Not here,” you managed to reply, glancing nervously at your friends who were pretending to be absorbed in their work.

Haechan stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I’m not trying to make this awkward, but avoiding me isn’t helping either. Can we go outside? Just for a minute?”

You hesitated, torn between wanting to confront your feelings and wanting to run away. The library felt suffocating, and with each passing moment, it seemed you had no choice but to face the situation head-on.

“Fine,” you said, the word slipping out before you could second-guess yourself. You stood up, feeling your friends’ eyes on you as you walked past Haechan and out of the library.

Once outside, the crisp air hit you, momentarily clearing your head. Haechan followed closely, and you turned to face him, arms crossed defensively.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound braver than you felt.

“I want to explain,” he said, his expression earnest.

“What happened that night… it wasn’t just a plan to get back at your ex for me.”

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. “Then what was it?” you challenged, unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.

“It was confusing. You’re confusing,” he replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you…”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy. You felt your heart flutter despite your better judgment. “One chance,” you said finally, your voice steady but low.

“You get one chance.”

Haechan’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features. “One chance? That’s it?” he asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and hope.

“Yeah,” you nodded, crossing your arms defiantly.

He took a step closer, “All I need is one date, and you will be hooked,” he stated, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is that so? You think it’ll be that easy to impress me?”

He leaned in slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I know it will be.”

You couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity at his challenge. “And what if you can’t?”

“I will,” he replied, his tone turning serious, “Meet me at my apartment tonight around seven.”

“Tonight?” you echoed.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Haechan responded, determination clear on his face.

“What do you have planned?” you asked, trying to mask your excitement with nonchalance.

Haechan smirked, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “You’ll just have to trust me. I promise it’ll be fun.”

“Fun? Sounds like you’re setting the bar pretty high,” you challenged, trying to maintain your composure.

“Trust me,” he repeated, his voice low and enticing. “I’ll make it unforgettable.”

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to smile. “Fine, But if this goes bad, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, his grin widening. “Just be ready at seven. I’ll pick you up.”

“Thought I was supposed to meet you there,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I’m a gentleman,” he replied, his voice smooth and confident, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. “A gentleman, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Only for you,” he shot back, leaning in a little closer.

“Okay, Mr. Gentleman. Just remember, I’m expecting something impressive,” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“Trust me, you won’t be disappointed,” he promised, his tone sincere.

Haechan stepped back, breaking the moment slightly.

“Just focus on being ready. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Fine. Seven it is,” you agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves racing through you.

“Perfect,” he said, a playful spark in his eyes. “I’ll see you then.”

As the hours went by, you kept yourself busy getting ready. You were excited, yet you still felt a little sick from your anxiety. You didn’t know what to expect.

By seven o’clock, you stood in front of the mirror, nerves filling your stomach. After applying the final touches of makeup, you gave yourself one last look.

A knock on the door startled you from your thoughts. Taking a deep breath before opening the door.

Haechan stood there, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted shirt and jeans. “Wow, you look incredible,” he said, his eyes full of awe

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Taking you back to my place,” he said with a playful smirk, extending his hand to you. “Let’s go.”

“As you walked together, the playful banter made it feel comfortable, just like it had before everything changed.”

Once you reached Haechan’s apartment, two guys walked out, exchanging casual greetings with him as they passed.

“Who were they?” you asked, curiosity growing.

“Just my roommates,” Haechan replied, “The tall one is Jisung, and the short one is Renjun.”

You nodded, glancing at the duo. Jisung gave you a friendly wave while Renjun shot you a playful grin before they disappeared down the hall and leaving you two alone.

“Come on in,” Haechan said, leading you inside. The apartment was cozy, decorated with posters and fairy lights that created a warm atmosphere. In the middle of the living room stood a makeshift pillow fort, complete with blankets draped over furniture and twinkling lights strung inside.

“No way, You remembered?” you asked, a laugh escaping your lips as you took in the sight.

Haechan shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Of course, we used to always make pillow forts as a kid.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the nostalgic sight. “I can’t believe you went through the trouble of making a pillow fort just for me,” you said, stepping further inside.

Haechan grinned. “I thought it would be fun. Plus, who doesn’t love a good pillow fort?”

“True,” you replied, chuckling. “I’m already impressed.”

He led you inside the fort, where soft cushions and blankets awaited. The twinkling lights added a magical touch, casting a warm glow around the space. Haechan settled down next to you, leaning back against the pillows.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, eager to know what he had in store for the evening.

“Well,” he began, leaning in closer, “I thought we could watch some movies, eat snacks, and just relax. But first, I have a little surprise for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A surprise?”

He reached into a nearby bag and pulled out a couple of your favorite snacks. “I know how much you love these!” he said, grinning as he held them up.

Your heart swelled at the thoughtful gesture. “You went all out, didn’t you?”

Haechan shrugged. “I try. Now, let’s pick a movie. Any preferences?”

You glanced at the selection he had lined up on his laptop. “How about a rom-com?” you suggested, feeling playful.

“Perfect choice,” he said, clicking on a title that caught your eye. As the opening credits rolled, you both settled in, the cozy atmosphere making you feel at ease.

Throughout the movie, you find yourself laughing and stealing glances at Haechan. He seemed so relaxed and in his element, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth growing between you.

As the film reached an over the top romantic scene, you felt your heart race. Haechan turned to you, his gaze searching yours.

“What do you think?”

“It’s cute,” you replied, trying to hide your flustered state. “But a little unrealistic.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, like how they always seem to have the perfect timing for their big moments.”

“Exactly! Who gets interrupted right before a kiss?” you joked, shaking your head.

“Maybe we should test it,” he suggested, his voice dropping to a softer tone.

You looked at him, your breath hitching slightly. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Haechan leaned in closer, the distance between you closing. Your heart raced as he brushed his thumb across your cheek, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your stomach flipped, and you nodded, unsure if you could speak.

Haechan closed the gap, pressing his lips against yours softly. The kiss was gentle at first, but as you melted into the moment, it deepened.

When he pulled back, a playful smile danced on his lips.

“See, no one interrupted us.”

You couldn’t help but grin back, feeling giddy. “You just interrupted your own kiss’’

"I guess I did," Haechan replied.

"So much for perfect timing." You teased.

Haechan's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Maybe we need more practice," he suggested, his tone light but laced with his usual teasing.

You felt your cheeks warm, torn between giving in to the moment and addressing the elephant in the room.

"Haechan," you started, your voice soft but serious,

"What are we doing here? Is this just... fun for you?"

His expression sobered, and he took your hand in his, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. "It's not just fun," he said, his gaze intense. "I meant what I said earlier. I can't stop thinking about you, Y/n. This... us... it means something to me."

Your heart raced at his words, but doubt still lingered. "But what about before? The plan, getting back at my ex..."

Haechan sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I know how it looked. At first, maybe it was about that. But somewhere along the way, it became real for me. You became real for me."

You searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity. "And now?"

"Now," he said, leaning closer, "I want to see where this goes. For real this time. No games, no plans. Just us."

The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch. You found yourself leaning in. "Just us," you echoed, your lips mere inches from his.

Haechan closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deeper, more passionate than the first. You melted into it, your hand finding its way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Haechan rested his forehead against yours. "So," he murmured, a smile playing on his lips, "Am I living up to my promise of an unforgettable night?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension from earlier dissolving into a warm, giddy feeling. "It's a good start," you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck. "But you still have a lot of work to do."

Haechan grinned, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Challenge accepted," he said with a smirk.

You watched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounded in your chest, wondering what surprise he had in mind next. "What are you doing?”

"You'll have to wait and see," Haechan replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes that had you both anxious and excited to find out.

As Haechan's whispers trailed off, you couldn't help but feel excited. Your heart raced in your chest, and you knew that whatever he had in mind, it was sure to be unforgettable.

He began trailing kisses down your neck, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and over your head. The sensation sent a shiver through your body, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Your hands found their way to his back, drawing him closer as his lips continued their trail down your body.

His fingers grazed the delicate skin of your stomach, making you shiver beneath his touch. He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, and you knew he was contemplating your next move. You saw the desire in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel aroused and eager to continue.

His hands drifted downwards, tracing the curve of your hips before gently tugging at your pants. He looked up at you again, seeking permission with his eyes. You nodded, giving him the green light to continue.

As Haechan's fingers danced beneath the waistband of your pants, you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. This was real.

His hands slid beneath your waistband, pulling your pants down slowly, revealing more and more of your skin to him. He kissed his way down your body, his mouth leave a trail of wet kisses.

His fingers trailed along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips soft and demanding, and you responded him with equal passion. You could feel him get harder through the fabric of his clothes, and it made you even wetter.

You pawed at his clothes, silently telling him to take them off.

Haechan followed your cues, his movements quick as he tugged off his shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and stomach. You couldn't help but moan at the sight. He then unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and let them slide down his legs, stepping out of them.

You stared at him in awe, your eyes locked onto him. His eyes caught yours and a smirk formed on his face. "Miss seeing me like this?" he asked teasingly.

"Mmmh," you replied breathlessly, your gaze traveling from his perfectly toned chest to the definition of his stomach, and finally to the hard bulge in his boxers.

Haechan chuckled and stepped out of the rest of his clothing, standing before you completely naked.

Without another word, he pulled you close to him, his erection pressing against your thigh. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the desire that kept growing with each passing second. It was intoxicating, and you felt yourself getting lost in it.

Haechan's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you even closer as he began to grind against you. The sensation was so good, and you could feel your body responding to his touch.

His lips found yours once again, slipping his tounge in your mouth.

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs, teasing your already wet folds. You gasped into his kiss, your body arching towards him.

His fingers explored deeper inside you. You could feel his erection pressing against you, begging to be inside you.

"Are you ready for me?" he groaned, his breath warm against your skin.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm ready."

Without another moment of hesitation, Haechan positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock rubbing against your sensitive skin. You let out a moan as he teased you.

He slowly pressed inside you, every inch of him filling you up. His eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the tip of his cock stretching you open, a feeling of fullness.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing each word.

"Perfect," you gasped, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer.

Haechan began to move, his hips thrusting into you with a rhythm that matched your own breathing.

Your hands clawed at his back, holding him close as he moved within you. The sound of his name falling from your lips was like music to his ears- a sound he never wanted to end.

Sweat began to trickle down Haechan's forehead, and the muscles in his arms tensed as he held you close to him.

As he thrust deeper into you, the walls of your body clenched around him, pulling him closer. His breath grew heavier, and he grabbed your face to look at him.

Your moans grew louder. The sounds of wet flesh meeting flesh filled the air, joining together with the hurried gasps and heavy breathing.

Your hips met his, matching his rhythm. You could feel your climax building.

"Donghyuck," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close."

The use of his real name felt different, he felt almost primal as he growled in your ear. "That's it. Come for me baby."

As your body began to tremble, an intense wave of pleasure washing over you, Haechan thrust into you with a faster pace. His eyes locked on yours, he groaned, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold back his own release.

"I'm—I'm close too," he gasped, his eyes almost black from the pleasure.

The sound of your name falling from his lips made you feel like you were on the edge of the world. Your body shook as your climax hit its peak.

Just the sight of you orgasming sent Haechan over the edge. With a final thrust, he pulled out and came all over your stomach, painting you with his cum.

Breathless and panting, you watched as he collapsed beside you, his breathing ragged and uneven. You could feel the slickness of your arousal, mixed with his cum, coating your skin

“Let’s get you all cleaned up.” Haechan pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead.

After cleaning up, you and Haechan settled back into the cozy pillow fort. The twinkling lights cast a warm glow as you cuddled close, wrapped in soft blankets. A comfortable silence fell between you.

Haechan gently took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and a hint of nervousness.

"Y/N," he began softly, "tonight has been amazing. Being with you like this, it just feels right. I know we started this in an unconventional way, but my feelings for you are real."

Your heart fluttered as he continued, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't want this to be just one night. I want to build something real with you, to see where this could go." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Would you be my girlfriend?"

A smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. "Yes," you replied, squeezing his hand. "I'd love to be your girlfriend."

Haechan's face lit up with joy. He pulled you closer, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Round two?" he murmured, holding in his laugh as you slapped his chest.

Commented/Reblog on preview: @chan-yeoldelling @iiilorii @sourrpatched @kynessa @x-jaehyunluvr-x @euphormiia @hyucksaint @sunghoonsgfreal @nessaassen02 @bunnychui @14juno @yewshi @beomgyusonlywife @ohmykwonsoonyoung @viciousdarlings @doejaejung @numberonekeehostan @t3kandson @yeosangteef @leejenoenthusiast @injunnie-lemon @hamstersprincess @jenjwi @0825-zip @neodreamzennie @buuuubbus @sthwaaberry

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verstappen-cult · 4 months ago

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PRAISE, M. VERSTAPPEN.

✶ SUMMARY. Max knows he’s good at his job, he was raised to be the best driver, the perfect son, and knows he’s talented. The bad thing is that he has to listen to people complimenting him almost everyday. He really thinks he’s good at hiding how shy and uncomfortable it makes him, and it’s just that Max can’t seem to take compliments from anyone but you.

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. lots of fluff. my favorite kind of max: flustered max. P in V. sub/dom dynamics. praise kink. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it kiddos. breeding kink. redbull racing slander because we are tired of them not doing their job. english is not my first language.

GWEN RAMBLES — i started writing this after the awful events of sunday, and finished it today! this was requested a while ago and to the person who asked for it – i’m sorry it took me so long! hope y’all like it. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Max gets uncomfortable when people compliment him. He knows he's good at what he does, knows he’s talented. And when people call him handsome? Compliment his hair? His arms? He has a hard time trying not to show how affected he actually is.

However, you know him in ways the rest of the world doesn't.

Max likes it when you compliment his cooking. It's not deserving of a five star Michelin rating, but good enough to eat and perfect the dish.

"How did you came up with this?" You ask, raising a spoonful of vegetables with a sweet and sour sauce.

Max can't keep his eyes off of you, waiting for your reaction patiently and anxiously. "I saw it in a video. But it was my idea to add the sauce to give it a little spin." He shrugs, his cheeks gaining a pretty pink color the second you make eye contact with him.

"It's delicious," You whisper, licking the rests of sauce from the spoon. Max's eyes glaze over and he forces himself to look away if he actually wants to make it through dinner. "You're such a good cook, Max. If you weren't a racing driver, I'm sure you would've had a restaurant."

Now, Max blushes furiously, the spoon falling from his fingers and on the plate. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes to mind, and you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing at his flustered state.

Max likes it when you jump into his open arms after a good qualifying session or podium celebrations, all happy and giddy as he still tries to shake off the adrenaline.

"You did such a good job!" He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground. He's still pretty much on cloud nine and with you in his arms it can't get any more perfect. "You were flying out there!"

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” You are not looking at his precious face, but you know he’s blushing for the way his voice falters. Once he puts you down, Max hides his face away by busying himself with getting rid of his champagne-soaked race suit.

His reluctance to accept your compliment doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, he always brushes them off. You thought he didn't like it at first, it was really awkward when you started dating and he would ignore you, but as time went on you learned that he just doesn't know how to react to them. His PR training has helped him a lot for when the press and the public in general praise him for his excellent driving and fast reflexes almost every day of his life, but Max still gets flustered when you are the one complimenting him. You love to tease him about it.

Max likes it when you praise him during sex.

Especially when he surrenders himself to you.

"Look at you," You coo at him, the back of your hand caressing his cheek ever so slightly. "being so good for me." Max draws in a sharp breath, your touch burning in the most delicious way even if you're barely doing it.

You press a kiss on his naked shoulder, his smooth and warm skin shining with sweat.

“I’m always good.” He rasps, leaning his head to the side and presenting his neck to you.

You laugh softly, moving away to look into the depths of his ocean blue eyes. “Of course you are.” The smile he gives you makes your heart hammer in your ears.

Max opens his mouth to speak but falls silent as you continue to kiss along his collarbones, running your tongue and creating a path down over his chest, your soft lips making contact with his nipples.

He arches his back when you capture a nub between your teeth, hands grabbing the sheets because he knows he can’t touch you unless you allow him to. And he’s good. He wants to be good.

Max bites his bottom lip as you pinch his other nipple with your fingers. He’s having a hard time trying to stay still, his whole body shivers at your ministration.

“Always so sensitive.” You say, swiping your thumb over the pebbled flesh. Max only nods, his blushed face twisted in pleasure. “Such a good boy, uh?”

You lift your skirt up to straddle his hips, sitting just above his hard cock, still tucked away in his trousers.

“You did such a good job today.” You say, rocking your hips and planting your hands on his stomach. Max groans, shaking his head. “What was that?”

“It was,” He sighs, closing his eyes to try and regain some control over his body, but he’s sensitive and can feel your slick dripping over his clothed cock. “It was awful today.”

You tsk, nodding your approval. “It was.” His face falls for a moment, expression somber. “They don’t deserve you, not at all.” His eyes shine again, just like that. “You’re practically doing everything by yourself, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes.” His knuckles are white from gripping the sheets trying to follow your earlier instructions, so you take pity on him. Your touch is soft as you take his hands and place them on your waist, and Max doesn’t waste a second on gripping you so hard you know you’ll have bruises the size of his hands tomorrow. The mere thought of walking around with his bruises makes you clench around nothing.

“No one is doing it like you, Max.” You purr his name, and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Max lets out a low groan, hips thrusting up with force. He needs release. He needs you.

“Please.” He whispers, and you lower yourself to be at the same level, lips grazing his.

“What do you need?”

“Please,” He says again, almost whining. “Please.”

“You need to use your words. I don’t know what your please means, Max.” You pinch his nipple and he gasps, tilting his head.

His pupils are blown wide when he opens his eyes to look directly into yours. “I want – please I want you to ride me.” His voice breaks in a moan.

“See?” You cup his jaw, thumb caressing his bottom lip. “That wasn’t so hard.”

Max’s mind is blank except for thoughts of you. You on top of him. You taking care of him. You fucking him. You, you, you.

You use his chest for support as you help him get rid of his trousers and your skirt. Now, both of you are completely naked and Max can’t fight the moan that slips from his lips when he feels the heat of your cunt against his hard and leaking cock. It’s painful.

Max gazes down and his mouth waters. The thought of laying you down and claiming his favorite spot between your legs to taste you is almost enough to send him over the edge.

You trail your hand down his chest, not breaking eye contact, not wanting to miss any of his reactions. Like the way his entire face twist in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth hanging open, when you wrap your hand around his cock.

Max still has a little of self control but it’s exhausting, he doesn’t know how much he can actually take before reaching his limit and spilling his seed. And he doesn’t want to waste it. He wants to come inside of you, wants to fill you up and stay there. So he says it.

And you shudder in response. You’re soaking wet, so it’s enough to not need prep, even though Max is big and he loves to prep you for it; you want it to hurt today, you want to be sore and feel him all day.

You guide his cock with trembling hands, feeling the tip fighting its way into your cunt.

You place both hands on his chest as he grips your hips as his life depends on it. You sink down on him, adjusting and pressing down slowly. It is torture for Max, you see it in the way his jaw tenses and sweat coats in his forehead. But he doesn’t protest, he takes everything you give him in silence.

“You feel,” You gasp at the sensation of finally having him deep inside of you. Max tosses his head back when he feels you clench around him. “so,” He moans louder, bucking his hips into you as you start riding him, fingernails scrapping his skin. “good.”

You take him deeper every time you raise your hips, letting yourself fall down hard, your clit grinding against his skin and making you moan loudly.

Max is mesmerized by the view.

And Max really doesn’t know where to look. If your contorted face and mouth open, moans and praises falling from your lips mixing with the squelching sounds of your cunt. Or your breast bouncing with every move. Or the connection between your bodies, how his cock disappears inside of you over and over again, driving him closer to the edge.

“Fucking me so good,” You start babbling, and Max knows you’re close to your orgasm.

He pulls you down against him and starts thrusting into you with urgency. You tuck your head against his neck and sink your teeth into his skin, marking him. Claiming him.

His cock digs deep inside, the tip rubbing against that sensitive spot that makes you tremble and see stars behind your eyelids.

Max reaches his climax with loud moans and calls of your name. He fills you up and continues to fuck his seed into you until your whole body goes still and the whole world cease to exist except for you and him.

Max doesn’t pull out until he’s certain you’ve taken every last drop. It is only when it gets cold and you want to cuddle under the blankets that you move off him, his pout at not having your weight on top of him making you giggle.

“Did so good.” You whisper, not recognising your own broken voice. “My sweet boy.”

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen smut #f1 fanfic #max verstappen fluff #f1 x reader

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snowballseal · 3 months ago

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How they react to you feeling insecure (LaDS)

Summary: How the Love and Deepspace boys react to you feeling insecure about various things. Includes Rafayel, Sylus, Zayne, and Xavier. Lots of fluff.

Word Count: they're all around 1000 roughly

Note: Warnings of different kinds of insecurity, ranging from physical to mental. I'm not sure of how well the Xavier one turned out, he's harder for me to write, but I couldn't leave him out!!! Anyways, hope yall enjoy!

Rafayel

His ended up being a lot longer, so it's posted separately.

here

Sylus

Being partners with Sylus is a…daunting position to be in.

You always considered yourself a fairly average person, more focused on who you are than what you look like. It’s not that you don’t like the way you look - you do - and you don’t like comparing yourself to anyone, but you don’t plan on being a model anytime soon. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Then you met Sylus, a man who looks like he was carved from the marble of ancient architecture. He could stand in a room of masterpieces and people would still look at him instead of the art. And since you’re by his side now, that means they’re also looking at you.

Being stared down by wanderers in one thing. Being stared down by the most powerful and prevalent members of the N109 Zone? You hate to admit that it gets to you. In fact, it gets so under your skin, that even when you’re dressed in the most extravagant dresses and decadent jewelry, you can’t help but feel…insecure.

Twisting in front of the mirror, you eye every detail of the dress Sylus bought you. It’s perfect, of course. The man has an annoying knack for getting you the most beautiful things and knowing exactly what fits you. The color compliments your hair and it’s comfortable to boot.

Still. You can’t help but feel like a kid trying to fit in at the adults table, wearing your mother’s heels even though they don’t fit. A bit ridiculous.

“Do you not like it?” Sylus appears behind you, dressed in a matching, lavish suit.

You jump a little, eyes flicking up to meet his in the mirror. His eyes burn into you, reading the hesitation on your face as you curl your arms around your stomach. There’s no fiery retort or witty comment like usual. You just look back at your dress, the tips of your ears tinging pink.

A frown pulls at Sylus’ lips, his voice softening, “What’s wrong?”

“...Do you really think people believe us? That we’re together?” You ask quietly, shuffling your weight back and forth. “That I’m a good match for you?”

You’re keenly aware that you’ve never had a conversation like this with Sylus. For the most part your relationship has been filled with teasing and playful bickering. It’s always light. Or about work. This is new, and while you trust him more than anything, you hate not knowing how he will react.

Sylus hums, low and thoughtful, as he curls his arms around you, “Does it matter to you what others think?”

You let out a sigh, leaning back into his touch thankfully. You want to say no. You want to keep up the air of confidence, but that quiet voice of doubt keeps worming its way through your thoughts.

“I just…I feel like I’m not what people expect. And…” you try to explain, hesitating. Sylus presses a kiss to your shoulder, offering a hum of encouragement. Taking a deep breath, you add, “It bothers me. It feels like I’m being forced into the spotlight but I’m not meant to be there. Like I don’t fit.”

“Hmm, so you feel like an odd duckling.” You give him a small jab, and Sylus chuckles. “My apologies. I think you misunderstand the attention though.” He pulls you closer. You shiver as his lips trace along the crook of your shoulder, pressing delicate kisses up the side of your neck, until he can murmur lowly into your ear, “You’re too humble, kitten. When you walk into a room, all eyes turn to you, not out of judgment, but out of jealousy. Afterall, you’ve tamed the leader of Onychinus. Even if you walked in with your uniform, they’d look at you the same. And I get the pleasure of walking around with the most powerful-” He presses his lips to your jaw. “-beautiful-” His lips trace against your cheek. “-woman of Linkon City. Don’t let the attention of those lesser than you make you doubt, otherwise I might have to find another way to show them just how well we fit together.”

Sylus’ eyes catch yours in the mirror again. They’re dark, like coals surrounded by flickering cinders. So intense you can almost feel the flames licking along your skin. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he’s being genuine. And that sets your heart racing. Along with the way he holds you so close, equal parts possessive and reverent. Like worship.

“Your devotion might scare some people, Sylus,” you whisper, glancing sideways at him.

He flashes a dangerous smile, “Does it scare you?”

You cast one final glance at your reflections before turning around in his hold and curling your arms around his neck. Sylus raises a challenging brow.

“I’m not. I like how you stand up for me, even when it’s against my own insecurities.” You draw him down, pressing a kiss to that carnal smile. Sylus softens immediately, cupping your jaw to draw you into a deeper kiss. The warmth that simmers in each and every touch leaves you a little breathless when you pull away. Pressing against his chest before he can drag you in again, you make sure to say one last thing, “Thank you, Sylus. I’ll make sure to remember all of that…especially the part about you being wrapped around my finger.”

“Hmm, such a cruel mistress, indeed.”

“And you love me.”

A chuckle rumbles through his chest, “Yes, I do. So, will you accompany me to this auction now?”

---

Zayne

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m going?” You ask, voice wavering with nerves as you straighten Zayne’s tie for him.

“Isn’t it natural to bring one’s partner to these kinds of events?” He tilts his head, brow perked ever so slightly.

You nod, but can’t seem to erase the frown on your lips.

A week ago, Zayne had asked if you would accompany him to his medical school’s class reunion banquet. He had been asked to give a special word, given the reputation he had developed in his time at Akso Hospital, not to mention winning the Starcatcher Award for his work.

At first, you were ecstatic to have an opportunity to learn more about his old life. He has such a thing about living in the present, you hardly get to hear any stories about his time in med school, or when he was doing rotations at the hospital. You were eager to meet the people who he used to spend time with and hopefully catch a few stories you could tease him with later.

But as the night drew closer, you started actually thinking about all the people you would be around, all of whom graduated from the same medical program Zayne did. You can only imagine how smart they all are. And how you’ll get lost the moment any medical jargon comes up.

The more you think about it, the more nerves you feel buzzing under your skin. You know you’re not the smartest, not compared to Zayne at least. He’s a genius, after all, and could probably outsmart most anyone. You’ve always been better at the physical stuff. That’s what makes you such a good pair.

It’s not like you can impress everyone by whipping your gun out and fighting, though. All you’ll have are your words, and you’re not particularly good with those…

You blink when a large hand suddenly circles your wrist. Glancing up, you find Zayne looking down at you, brows furrowed ever so slightly.

“While I appreciate your attention to detail, I believe you’ve been straightening my tie for five minutes now.” Heat creeps up your neck. You hadn’t even realized you had been lost in thought. Zayne’s eyes narrow inquisitively. “What are you thinking about that has your mind so preoccupied?”

His thumb brushes casually along the inside of your wrist, not so subtly checking your pulse. A strangely endearing habit of his when he’s worried about you. You let out a long sigh and hide your face against his chest, feeling the heat bleed across your cheeks.

How are you supposed to tell him that you’re insecure about how smart all his friends must be?

Zayne doesn’t push right away. He knows you’ll explain when you want to, and if you don’t, then he knows you’re not ready to. It was an unspoken rule between you, something you started with him because you noticed he likes to think his words out. It felt natural to offer you the same when you struggle to express yourself. Like now.

Ultimately, you figure it’s better to just be straightforward. That’s how he would do it, and it’s better than dancing around the subject.

“I guess I’m nervous because I feel like I’m going to be the dumbest person in the room tonight,” you mutter against his coat. Your fingers tap out an anxious beat against his abdomen. “It’s silly and I know it shouldn’t matter, but I just don’t want to make you look bad.”

Zayne remains quiet for a long minute. Your fingers move a little quicker, matching the stuttering rhythm of your heart. His hand slides up, gently trapping them against his body.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Physical tics are a common result of anxiety,” he hums dismissively, thumb smoothing over your knuckles. “As is your rapid heart rate. This truly bothers you.”

“Of course it does,” you sigh, a bit exasperated, ”You’ve worked hard to get where you are, Zayne. I love you so much, and I respect your work more than anything. I don’t, I don’t want to say something stupid and have it reflect on you badly.”

The doctor clicks his tongue, “First, I would prefer if you stop using that language to describe yourself.”

Your heart falters when his cool fingers touch your cheek, drawing your face up to his. He looks upset, but not exactly at you, the sharp line of his jaw contrasting with the softness of his eyes. Like it pains him that you think this way. Which it does.

“Those words don’t suit you. I wouldn’t allow another to call you them, so why would I allow you to?” He asserts, the corner of his lips twitching with distaste. “I don’t want to hear them again, do you understand?”

“Okay.” A thread of warmth curls around your heart when Zayne nods approvingly. His protectiveness really knows no bounds.

“Second, I do not agree with your diagnosis.”

Your brow furrows a little. What? What does he mean, he disagrees? He’s literally surrounded by geniuses, you can’t match up to any of them if they’re anything like him.

Seeing you start to overthink, Zayne shakes his head and gently pinches your cheek. You jolt back a little. The corners of his eyes crinkle, making you pout.

“Meanie,” you grumble, “Fine, explain your reasoning, Doctor Zayne.”

“It’s simple. Intelligence is made up of more than just academic knowledge, which, I assume, is what you are thinking of when you make such comments.” You nod. He’s not wrong about that, you guess. “Intelligence also includes the knowledge of how to use one’s strengths to achieve the best outcome. It is true that for some, this means using academic reasoning. However, it also includes those who develop the skills and discipline to maintain their bodies and fight for those who can’t, like…”

He pauses and gives you an expectant look.

“...me,” you finish slowly.

“Yes,” he hums, stroking the redness of your cheek, “I believe, under these standards, you are far more intelligent than most of the people you will meet tonight, darling. Though there is no comparison in the first place.”

His words sink in slowly but surely, filling in the cracks of your doubt. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he probably has some kind of healing magic, because you can already feel the burden of your insecurities melting away.

Leave it to Zayne to know exactly what to say, but in the most complex sounding way.

“You always know how to make me feel better, huh?” You ask, finally cracking that smile he loves.

“I am simply telling you the truth.” Zayne leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “There is not a lifetime in which my reputation will be more important than you. I would gladly throw it all away if it meant reminding you of that.”

You snort, “Don’t do that, please. I can only imagine the fit Doctor Greyson would throw. He’d be so mad at me.”

“I can handle Doctor Greyson, in the same way I can handle everyone tonight.” He slips his fingers between yours, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. You wiggle your fingers happily and Zayne can’t help but grin to himself. “If at any point you find yourself uncomfortable, just stay by my side and I will act as your distraction. Though, I’m sure they will all love you, just as I do.”

“...Thank you, Zayne.”

“Of course, my jasmine.”

---

Xavier

Working with Xavier is a blessing, as much as it is a curse. You couldn’t ask for a better partner. Someone who you know will always have your back, who can handle himself completely, who is probably the most talented hunter you’ve ever met in your entire life. He’s undeniably amazing.

On the flip side of that, though, you often fall into the trap of thinking about how he deserves better. Wondering if, maybe, the only reason he chose to stay with you was because of the aether core in your heart. If that’s also the reason you’re in a relationship now…

And some days, these thoughts win out over the rest. Like today.

“What’s wrong?”

You blink, eyes flickering up from the bowl of ramen in front of you. Early on, you had started a tradition of eating a meal together after a successful mission, to just enjoy the peace of your home and each other. But today, you weren’t feeling that hungry, just…tired.

Xavier tilts his head, concern furrowing his brow - he noticed your mood start to shift days before, but didn’t want to push since you didn’t seem to notice it yourself. Now, though, it’s too obvious for him to ignore.

“I’m fine,” you sigh, flicking your chopsticks back and forth to watch the noodles swirl around in the broth, a small frown capturing your lips. It’s a horribly obvious lie.

“Is it something I did?” His voice isn’t accusatory or upset. It’s just a rational question to help him figure out what’s wrong. Still, you feel guilt tug at your chest, and you set the chopsticks down with another sigh.

You don’t want him to think that. You’d never blame Xavier for something like this. That would be like asking him to be a worse person, which is stupid. It’s just you. Your problem. Dragging him into it will only make you feel worse.

“No, Xavier, you didn’t do anything, promise. I’m not upset…with you.”

“But you are upset.”

Chancing a glance up at him proves a bad idea, making it all that more difficult to keep your thoughts quiet. Behind his normal sleepy expression, worry gleams in the deep blue of his eyes, unyielding and undeniably calm, like waves lapping gently at the beach.

The sight makes your heart ache and the words are tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them, “Do you think I’m actually a suitable partner for you?”

Surprise flickers across the hunter’s face. Of all the things he was expecting you to say, that wasn’t even on the list. He doesn’t laugh though, or take your question lightly.

“Do you mean, as a hunting partner? Or as a romantic partner?”

You shift uncomfortably, eyes falling back to your ramen, “I don’t know. Both, I guess?”

He hums softly. You try to ignore the nerves fluttering in your chest as Xavier gets up, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he circles the table to stand next to you. The hunter drips his head, catching your gaze.

“May I see your hand?”

A small frown pulls at your lips, not exactly sure where he’s going with this, but you offer him your hand anyways. Xavier takes your wrist, touch featherlight, and moves it so your hand is held up flat, facing him. Your brow furrows.

“Xav-”

“Look.”

Pursing your lips, you let out a little huff. He really hates giving direct answers, doesn’t he? Still, you’re in no place to really judge him, or expect anything for that matter. He’s always been a bit of a mystery to you.

You watch as Xavier places his hand against yours. His palm is warm and you can feel the calluses from who knows how many years of hunting. Your hand looks tiny in comparison, his pale, delicate fingers long enough to curl over your own a little. The sight makes your heart squeeze, fondness competing with the feeling of being so…small.

“They’re pretty different,” Xavier hums, voice still calm, his own eyes fixed on your hands. “Your fingers are always cold, and your hands are small. You have a scar here.” His free hand grazes the side of your palm, along your pinky. “And here” He traces another along your knuckle. Your breath falters at the tenderness behind his touch, like you’re delicate porcelain. “Mine are in different places. Yours are skilled at weaving silk balls and mine can…open jars.”

You snort. Xavier’s eyes dart up to yours, sparkling with humor, a brow raised. You try to smother your laughter, rather ineffectively, and motion for him to continue.

“They’re different, but-” His fingers spread apart, and you mimic him instinctually, only for his fingers to slot between yours in one fluid motion. You inhale softly, laughter dying in your throat. It’s like two puzzle pieces fitting together, a perfect embrace that washes over you with a comforting warmth.

Xavier watches you, keenly aware of the way you squeeze his hand tightly, desperately, like you’re worried it might disappear. He gives yours a tender squeeze in return, thumb brushing over your knuckle.

“I think they’re a suitable match. Don’t you?”

God, how could you go without this man? The worries that have been pricking at the back of your mind all week seem to melt away. It leaves you with that warmth, the kind that only comes from Xavier, that he offers you over and over again.

You give his hand another squeeze, finally smiling, “Yah. I do…Thanks, Xavier.”

The hunter leans down, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. You can feel his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs, “Let me know if you ever feel this way again, angel. I’ll be more than glad to remind you.”

“I will.”

---

This was really fun to write!!! I really hope you guys like it! There are so many freaking tags on this puppy.

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rodolfoparras · 3 months ago

Text

And for you, I keep my legs apart (and forget about my tainted heart)

Pairing: Unspecified Male character x Male Reader

cw: 18+, age gap, (older man x younger male reader), anal fingering, riding, subtop male reader, dombot male character, size kink

Thinking about an old man going for a guy like you who definitely isn’t his type, with your scrawny frame, short height that barley reaches eye level on him, and with a meek presence that couldn’t even scare away a stray cat if you desperately tried to do so.

Yet you’ve somehow managed to gather the courage to buy someone like him- a man that could probably be your father or something, a drink. At least that’s what he thinks you’re doing. It’s hard to tell when you’re talking so much - well nervously rambling that is, about the interior choices made for the dingy bar and the nutritious value of their menu (fuck who cares?)

But he listens to you anyway while his eyes trail along your lanky frame, eyeing your every little reaction to him (What ? He’s bored and he has no interest in the mind numbing football game playing on the television nor the group of rowdy men who look like they’re on a mission to drink themselves to an early death)

So he watches; watches how you jump when your fingers accidentally brush, watches how you avoid eye contract when he leans in close to your ear to ask you something, watches how you stumble over your words when he laughs or smiles at something you said.

At some point he watches you start squirming around in your seat and that’s when he notices the outline of your boner showing through your ill fitting jeans (Jesus Christ, this is what you’ve been hiding kid?) Despite being in a dimly lit bar he can tell you’ve opted out of wearing briefs, cockhead firmly pushing against your jeans and casting a dark spot that’s probably the reason as to why you’re squirming around in your seat

Now it’s his turn to jump as your knees knock together, gaze avoiding yours because how is he supposed to look you in the eyes when he’d been shamelessly staring at your crotch? and now he’s the one who can’t get through a sentence without stumbling over his words because all he can think about is all the ways he could cum with the help of your cock.

It doesn’t take much before he’s inviting you back to his house.

For a moment you look surprised by the invite, probably haven’t expected that and truth be told he’s surprised himself since he usually isn’t one for one night stands and if he were to do one it would be in a cheap motel not in such an intimate space like his place. But something about you has him acting like a horny teenager who’d just seen their first pair of tits.

You’re quick to accept the offer though, even thanking him for inviting you into his home (such a strange thing to do but somehow he can’t help but be endeared by the gesture)

Well at his place you continue your nervous blabbering, talking about his choice of decor or lack there of (fuck you love to talk don’t you?) while he continues thinking about all the ways he’s going to cum tonight.

Eventually he leans in for a kiss, swiftly cutting off your blabbering, tongue slipping past your lips to and tasting the sweet drink you’d been sipping.

A breathy sigh escapes your lips, hips bucking against his and he can’t help but notice the way your hard cock is firmly pressing against him.

“Christ, take this off kid,” he breathes against your lips and tugs at the belt you’re wearing, watches in amusement as you practically yank it off of your body along with the pair of pants you’re wearing.

Once you’ve complety stripped down he can finally see what he’d been eyeing all night and yeah he was right, you’re big, bigger than anyone he’s taken before, cock girthy and curving past your belly button, with an angry vein protruding to the side and a heavy set of balls hanging between your thighs.

And in that very moment he can’t help but thank everything under the sun for having decided to wear a plug to the bar, hole twitching in anticipation at the thought of all the ways he’s going to be skewed onto your cock.

Just as he’s about to tug his own shirt off, you go to speak before swiftly halting yourself.

“What? You’re not about to tell me you’re a virgin are you?” He says, in a joking tone something that quickly fades into something more serious as you continue to stand there staring at him without saying a word.

Suddenly he feels like he’s been splashed with a bucket of ice cold water and the first thing on his mind is to tell you take your clothes and get out because he’s not fucking a virgin tonight, that’s for damn sure. However just as he’s about to utter those words you manage to splutter out a response.

“Nonono I’m not but-,” you try to say, hand aimlessly flailing in the air before you continue speaking . “…I just I- won’t last long.”

That’s when he laughs, a long hearty laugh, that has his head tipping back, hand clutching onto his stomach and he knows he should feel bad for laughing so much but he just hadnt expected those words to come out your mouth

When he finally manages to gather himself you’re looking absolutely flustered, hands fisting your clothes and looking like you’re about to sprint out of here and he can’t help but want to take you out of your miserry

“don’t worry about it kid, just sit down for me yeah?”He says, nods his head over to his worn out blue couch: the one he usually sits in to drink his morning tea, the one he usually falls asleep in while watching reruns of some forgotten tv series , the one that is now adorned with a pretty boy with sugary sweet lips, cock hard and weeping between your legs, just patiently waiting for someone like him to come sit on it.

The thought itself is enough to kick him into gear and as he proceeds to strip the clothes off him he can’t help but notice the way your gaze follows him closely, an observation that stirs something foreign inside of him

It’s been a while since someone looked at him like this -like really looked at him, not with pity in their eyes because they know death’s patiently waiting at his side but with pure hunger, as you trail your gaze over every mark, every scar, every inch of skin he uncovers as he slowly takes his clothes off.

He can only take so much before he feels compelled to speak “Easy there, if you continue on like this you’ll finish before we get to do anything “

That seems enough to snap you out of your trance, looking absolutely flustered and once again he can’t help but be endeared by you (Christ, he really needs to get get it together)

“Still sure about this?” he says, and busies himself with rummaging around for the lube and condom he keeps in a drawer.

He only gets a meek hum in response and when he turns his head to look at you he sees your gaze focused on his lower half, probably eyeing the plug he’s got on.

The realization has his hole twitching in anticipation before he’s walking over to you with lube and a condom.

“Seriously has anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” He asks with a small smile on his face.

“‘M sorry-“ you begin to say before he leans down and cuts you off with a kiss, even hears a moan of his own escaping his own lips. He’s kissed many men before, that’s for sure. Some kisses had been snuck in dark bars others have been done in a drunken haze while in cheap motels.

But they’ve never felt like this- hungry, frantic almost leaving him weak at the knees as you thrust your tongue into him, sharp teeth nipping at tender skin , and hands wandering all over his body as if you can’t get enough of him.

It takes everything in him to break the kiss , and he hears a sound of protest escapes your lips, hand desperately clawing at his hips to pull him back in.

“that’s enough,” he says voice all firm but there’s nothing but warmth in his gaze as he peers down at you . “Got to save some of the fun remember ? Gonna let this old man ride your cock?”

“Yes yes yes please I’ll do anything just please-” you cry out, practically choking up on your words, while keeping a vice like grip on him.

“Shh easy there” he says, and gently nudges you back into the chair, before swiftly pulling the plug out of him.

A gasp escapes his lips as the cold air blows on sensitive skin, hungry hole now clenching around nothing. “Christ!”

Despite the strong desire to jump your bones- especially with the way you’re looking at him right now, he knows that he isn’t stretched enough for your cock.

So he tosses the condom your way before he opens the cap to the lube bottle and pours the content into his hand, fingers making quick work of warming it up for him.

It doesn’t take much before he’s got his slick finger pressed up against his rim, pushing it inside without much resistance as a soft exhale escapes his lips “you’re - ah you’re so big kid, can’t ah can’t take you like this”

He only hears a strangled sound escape your mouth as the words roll off of his tongue, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he works a second finger inside.

“Fuck me,” he breathes out, head tipping back, as waves of pleasure start running down his spine, all while you closely watch him the entire time.

And as a third finger joins into the mix he turns his eyes to look at you, noticing the way you’re looking at him all teary eyed, poor neglected cock weeping against your stomach and his voice is all hoarse as he says the words “you can touch yourself son it’s alright ”

You don’t waste a second wrapping a hand around your dick, erratically stroking from rot to tip as you keep your eyes glued to him. “Ah fuck! Feels - feels so good sir please ! Need- ah fuck need to fuck you please sir please”

“God you should see yourself kid, so pretty like this, so eager for an old man like me,” he breathes out, continues moving his fingers in and out, almost matching the pace of your own hand.

He wonders if this is how it would feel being speared onto your dick, fat cockhead nudging against his prostate with every thrust of your hips, his hungry hole taking your size as if it were nothing.

“Sir- going to cum please-“ he hears you cry out and the sound of your words snap him back into the present moment.

“Stop,”

A strangled sob escapes your lips, almost reluctant to pull your hand away from your dick but obedient as you are you listen to him.

Atta boy

He walks over to you on shaky legs, hand cupping your teary soaked face, slick thumb brushing over your cheek as he says “Want you to cum inside me, that alright with ya?”

You furiously nod your head in response looking so ridiculous he can’t help but chuckle before he turns around for you.

And as he stands there caged between your legs he can’t help but notice the warmth radiating from your skin, the smell of your cologne that’s biting at his nostrils, and the sweet sounds you’ve been making all night that are now trickling straight into his ear.

It’s only then he realizes how very real this is and how this isn’t just another dream his lonely mind had conjured up for him.

“Go easy on me alright? Been a while since I did this with someone,” he says, feels your cockhead circling his entrance before you slowly push inside of him.

“Jesus Christ!” He says through gritted teeth, face scrunching up, and nails clamping onto the couch as his body gets accustomed to the feeling of being stretched around your dick.

“Is this ah- is this alright sir?” You say, under a shaky breath, body quaking as you continue to sink inside of him.

“Going to tear me in half kid” he barks out, as the burn persist. Every nerve in his body is practically screaming as you continue to push your way inside of him but despite all of that there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Eventually he gets used to the stretch, the burning sensation dulling a bit as his body starts to relax “Fuck just like that, going to make me feel so good aren’t you?” He murmurs out, hands loosening their grip on the couch as he shuffles around to get more comfortable.

“Yes yes yes please want to be good for you god please I need-“ you slur out, and he feels your body violently shaking beneath him.

“Shhh easy there,” he coos out, voice a bit wobbly as you finally bottom out.

He makes a point to ignore the way you’re buried so deep he can feel your ballsack kissing his ass, and can practically taste you at the back of his mouth, just so he can help you out “Breathe in for me yeah?”

Without fail you do as he says “now breathe out for me okay?” Just like before you do as he says, body now much less tense and head relaxing in the crook of his neck.

He gives you a couple of moments to catch your breath before he slowly raises his hips and pushes them back down again. “Oh- oh mpfh fuck!”

“Go-god- so- so good sir” he hears you cry out as his hungry hole continues to swallow your cock.

And fuck if he doesn’t agree, feels as if the breath has been punched out of him with every thrust of his hips, knees already screaming in protest but being way too addicted to the feeling of your cockhead continuously jabbing at his prostate.

“Mhp! Feels so good kid, think- ah think I can feel you here” he grunts out, hand blindly searching for your own before placing it on the slick skin of his stomach. “Feel it,”

“Ah fuck! Sir please please want to make you feel good please!” You sob into his neck, unable to do anything but take it as he bounces on your dick.

“But you are,” he says, makes sure to puncture every word with a thrust of his hips “going to make me cum just like this,” and he really means it, doesn’t need a warm palm around his dick with the way heat’s already coiling in the pit of his stomach.

“Going to cum too,” you whine out, hips now meeting his thrust which catches him off guard.

“Fuck! Just like that, keep going,” he says through gritted teeth, the fire in his abdomen growing stronger and overtaking everything in his body as you continue to slam into him.

“Think I’m gonna” you splutter out, hips stuttering.

“Yeah you gonna come inside this old man? Come on then want to feel you,” he manages to say, as the world around him starts to blur out, ears ringing loud and before he knows of it you’re cumming , a loud moan tumbling past your mouth as you clutch onto him for dear life.

It doesn’t take much before he too reaches his orgasm.

“Ah fuck!” He cries out, body quaking in your lap as hot white ropes of cum spurt onto his stomach.

For a moment there are no words exchanged as the two of you take the opportunity to catch your breath but when you finally decide to speak the first thing you say is “so how about round two?”

His eyes widen in surprise before he bursts into laughter “you’re going to kill me you know that kid?”

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arcadia345 · 24 days ago

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❃Astrology observations❃

Masterlist

Not a real astrologer just my observations:)

❃ Aquarius moon femmes tend to be more masculine/tomboyish whether it be their personality or fashion sense they prefer loose fitting clothes. They have this nonchalantness/offstandish energy about them, they also are very sensitive and receptive to energies around them esp after one on one interactions but surprisingly do very well w online interactions💀they could feel like their personality shines brighter online than irl

❃ 12th ruler in 7th natal partners could have animosity towards you esp if you prefer men they tend to have secret intentions/lives

❃ Sagittarius in your natal chart is where you tell the best stories, and gemini can show where others ask for advice/tell their best stories to you(and lowkey try to impress you)

♐︎ in 1st -you ARE the story, there’s never a dull moment ,so many memories are made w you, many stories where you had to be reminded that your that GIRL/GUY✨ (esp by your guides)

♐︎ in 8th- they articulate their trauma very well, the ones that talk openly about their abuse, lots of near-death stories, surgery stories that they almost didn’t make it out of, thieving stories

♐︎ in 11th- the type to bring their friends into every situation/story, most likely to do the best story time vids online, their stories can be eye opening for the collective, people love when they predict the future, stories about the future/goals of humanity, evolution stories, stories about you gaining independence(just like 1st)

♐︎ in 12th- they love to hear about your dreams and conspiracies, they love when you talk about your insecurities and spill your own secrets, your paranormal experiences and things about past lives

♊︎ in 2nd- they love to tell you how hard they work for their assets, “You know I haven’t told anyone this but I feel like I can trust you.” They don’t mind telling you about their illegal activities, people have a tendency to think you took something from them, they come to you for advice on how to approach situations

♊︎ in 5th- the type to have kids come up to them and all their parents business (4th house also), the best childhood memory stories, people try to impress you w their sex stories , they come to you for advice on sex and love matters also, asking for your opinion w fashion & aesthetics, you make them want to try new things🥵

❃ Taurus in the 3rd/4th find it hard to leave their family/home

Cancer risings (4°16°28°) their face and body fluctuate through life but their faces tend to get rounder/fuller as they age

❃ Sending love out to Venus in Pisces/12th house natals y’all are what fairytales are made of🥺 just being in your presence is healing even tho they feel sometimes their deepness and devotion isn’t reciprocated at times idk who needed to hear this but your loving energy transcends the physical barriers you could do a lot of energy work on the other side w/o even realizing it esp while sleeping🧡

❃ I feel bad for Chloe because w that Gemini mars baby everybody always gonna think you doing too much😭 unti you don’t do enough & they’ll still be mad

Finding out Lil uzi has a Gemini mars sent me💀 it reminds of them vids of their security guard trying to keep up w them while they jump all over the place🕺🏽

❃ Sag moon children mom was in her hoe phase when u were conceived. Partying/traveling/drinking/learning was prominent for her at the time

Venus in natal can show you why others envy you

♀ in 2nd- they envy how consistently you upkeep yourself, they see how much money you put into yourself to look good, they hate how materially abundant you are, how easily you make money from your talents/assets, they envy your sugar daddy/baby energy

♀ in 4th- they envy how abundant your family/ancestry is, they envy your mom/your motherly skills, how easily you make a house feel like home, how rich your inner world is, your decoration sense, how easily you’ll be remembered after passing/leaving home, how easily you make money from home

♀ in 8th- they envy how easily others trust you esp w their money & possessions, how beautifully you shed your skin in transformations, sugarbaby placement, how magnetic you are, how easily people become obsessed w you, your way of love making/showing love/spoiling others or vise versa

♀ in 12th- a lot of people don’t even realize that they envy you/ subconsciously send you evil eye, you provoke their hidden desires(this place def has lots of people in their circle wishing on their downfall) they envy how content you are with yourself /and how you’ve healed yourself , your music taste

I feel like prominent Pisces placements tend to lose their teeth more often than Capricorns, could also have dreams of teeth falling out/rotting

❃ Prominent Virgo in natal stay cleaning up other people’s 💩💀 like literally tho at some point in your life you’ve had to be some type of caretaker ie. animals, elderly, babies. But 💩 is more prominent/consistent in your life

But if ur a pet owner or caretaker in general you know that a lot of times the only way they can communicate what’s going on w their body Is through their bowel movements so it’s a blessing and a curse cuz it’s not like your obsessed with 💩 (unless👀) but you kinda have to be😭

Aphrodite in Gemini/3rd house natals have contagiously attractive laughs/smiles, delicate hand and arm movements, and beautiful hands and lips

❃ Every time I have prominent 8th synastry esp moon/mars we always have 🩸 sex eventually 🧍🏽‍♀️ they be feigning so bad for you that they can’t wait a few more days they need it now! But they always end up saying you put a spell on them like no bro u willingly put a spell on YOURSELF💀

❃ 7th house mercury could attract or prefer younger/pettie people or they are seen as such, also prone to have partners w prominent anxiety

❃ Eros/mars in Aries/cancer/scorpio in composite charts shows lots of crying during sex but for different reasons

Aries cries because ur f*cking/sucking them so good all they can do is take it like a champ and cry happy tears 🥲

Cancer cries because you truly touched their soul🥺 they never thought sex could be this satisfying and comforting at the same time (healing sex like Pisces)

With scorpio it’s kinda a mixture of both w sprinkles of trauma bonding✨

❃ Venus in 8th synastry- adoring eachothers beauty marks esp the house person @ Venus , the house person usually adores the Venus’s insecurities/stuff about themselves that they never picked up on which gives the Venus person a new prospective of their beauty

❃ Mercury synastry can tell you how you were first introduced/heard of each other

☿ in 8th- meeting while/before going through a transformational/traumatic period in your life, you could have problems w people owing you money or vise versa, catalyst for spiritual & sexual growth, meeting before/after having a major surgery

☿ in 9th- meeting through college/highschool,being introduced to/by a different ethnicity friend,meeting while traveling esp abroad, catalyst in spiritual journey, meeting through religious community

☿ in 4th- I have this w my mom while her ☿ is in my 1st so you could also share this w your parents, w cancer and Aries basically representing the womb her PUMPUM told her about me😂obvi she had no other choice but to learn about me I was coming weather she liked it or not😎 so w 1st house synastry I feel like they were kinda forced onto you they’re pretty hard to miss🥴with 4th her aunts/women in her family told her she was gonna have another baby before she even knew🤷🏽‍♀️

❃ Jupiter in 1st synastry -even the most stubborn person would hear planet person out w this placement 😏 Jupiter boost house persons ego/outlook on life, planet person just makes everything look good & exciting in house person eyes

❃ Pluto in 11th natal- unfriending someone could really feel like a divorce lmao telling people your not friends anymore and they react so crazy like “NO I NEVER WOULDVE THOUGHT💔💔💔” then splittng up your assets (friends/aspirations)

❃ Gemini Venus-girl next door vibe people watch through your window esp w some Pluto energy on your Venus, the song ‘She by Tyler the creator’ was made about us fr😭

❃ Taurus (2°14°26°)moons people think that they own you or that you’re some object they can use anytime they want whether it be your body or your possessions

Also having a Taurus moon could play out as feeling like you didn’t get the support that you needed in ur childhood, the type to have moms that say “I put clothes on your back, food on your plate, and a pillow to lay your head and you’re telling me I didn’t do enough for you??😠😤” like sorry I needed emotional support and understanding as a child that you couldn’t give me🥲 the mom could see the child as spoiled/ungrateful esp with harsh aspects on the moon, but they could also just feel like they have a right to your possessions esp if you live in the same house what is privacy?😀

❃ 6th house synastry is big on planning together,the type to count down the days till they get to see e/o 🥰

Now offering aura & synastry readings

That’s it for now, have a blessed day ✨

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yanderenightmare · 5 months ago

Note

soft boyfriend headcanons with Gojo plez🥺

Gojo Satoru ! Boyfriend Headcanons

TW: tons of fluff ig, Set in a real-life au

fem reader

EARLY STAGES OF THE RELATIONSHIP

He’s not joking when he says it was love at first sight.

But, obviously, you brush him off as a total player.

Not convinced by his confession in the slightest, you reject him multiple times.

Like, come on… that’s the school’s number one pretty boy, known for having a new girl on his arm every other week or so. You have absolutely zero ambition of being one of them.

You laugh at all his silly gestures—dumb pick-up lines at parties, flowers, chocolates, and letters in your locker, flirty passerby compliments to and from in between classes.

Oh, but then, cue the grandest of all gestures…

The public massive confession with banners, confetti, a lovesong in the background, and him with a megaphone in the middle of campus—professing his undying crush on you—down on both knees while begging you, “Please go out with me!”

You’ve never been more embarrassed in all your life. You feel like running away, but how could you say no in front of so many people?

And that’s how you end up on the first date with him.

He takes you to an amusement park.

You haven’t been in ages. It feels strange to be there on a date, older than any of the other kids you see running around with stressed parents on their heels.

It feels like a prank is being pulled. You’re waiting for the pig’s blood to fall. But halfway through, you somehow end up forgetting all about it.

To your surprise, Gojo actually seems like quite a genuine guy.

Sure, he’s more charm and flirt than deep conversation, but… you don’t know… there’s something really amazing about him too…

He doesn’t do anything inappropriate.

The farthest he goes is holding your hand when pulling you along to the next rollercoaster. And asks to have a taste of your ice cream. He tells you that you have to name the plushie he won for you, Satoru—then pokes fun at how he tricked you into finally calling him by his first name.

It's funny, but you’d always thought Satoru was a pigheaded jerk, but it turns out he’s actually just a silly boy.

And there’s something really endearing about it.

It scares you at first—how fast and easily you fell in love with him.

You hadn’t wanted to—scared he’d drop you like he’d done all those other girls who came before you.

But then you find out—he hasn’t really dated anyone at all—all rumors made by those obsessed with him.

Sure, he’s been confessed to plenty of times, but he’s not about to jump into a relationship with girls he’s never even seen before.

That would be crazy.

“In all honesty, girls like that kinda scare me…”

You realize your perception of Gojo Satoru couldn’t have been any more wrong.

And you only stand to be corrected again and again the more you get to know him better.

He’s the boy version of “I’m not like other girls”

He doesn’t like meat, he likes sweets—for every meal. It’s concerning. 2 am convenience store runs are a constant occurrence with him. It’s a wonder he’s got the body he has—it’s that boy metabolism.

At parties, he doesn’t drink beer, he’ll drink little syrupy things instead. Oh, and jello shots. If they’re all gone, bet that most of than are in Gojo’s stomach.

But he doesn’t need to be drunk to be clingy and cuddly and needy and not afraid to show it. However, he does get sloppier after drinking—all but draping you with his entire weight, kissing any part of you he can get his lips on.

He confesses his love for you every day, hugs you every time he sees you, then whines about how he’s missed you—even when it’s just been a handful of hours since the last time you saw each other.

When Geto tells the two of you to get a room, Satoru only looks at him sourly and sticks his tongue out—blowing raspberries like a child.

And probably the most surprising…

He loves anime and manga.

Which isn’t really too much of a surprise in and of itself, only… you didn’t realize the extent of his love. In fact, it’s better called an obsession.

He isn't a cool guy at all...

He's a total nerd!

The first time you see his dorm room—it’s a total mess!

Manga literally litters the floor and bed, even the tall bookshelf he has is prop full.

What’s even more surprising is that Shonen Jump isn’t in the majority. No, it’s Shōjo.

He tells you his favorite anime is Ouran High School Host Club and insists you watch it with him.

He sings the entire intro almost every single time—sometimes even the outro.

He says he identifies with the main character—which he obviously feels is Tamaki.

“You’d make a cute Haruhi, though—we should cosplay for Halloween~”

And he’s not even joking. He’s bought the costumes before you even agree.

Of course, no one understands who the two of you are supposed to be—dressed in the same school uniforms like two twins.

You also discover his harbored hatred for horror manga. Junji Ito gives him nightmares.

Though you managed to get him to read Death Note after pushing it on him for months.

He’s so cute—his only takeaway isn’t about the juxtaposing philosophies or any of the moral dilemmas but how “Suguru is so Light, and I’m definitely L.”

You find he’ll always do that—dib characters, almost always the main one.

It's a habit that reminds you of childhood, but it seems more than instinctual for Satoru. You don’t think he’ll ever grow out of it.

When he tells you he wants to be a teacher, you look at him with moon-big eyes.

He’s never seemed any interested in school—his grades are subpar, if not worse.

He never studies. There are no textbooks or the like on his desk, just more figurines and comics, as well as a dusty gaming station.

But when you take a second to think about it, the more it actually makes sense.

He's strangely great with kids. The girls all squeal over his charm, while the boys all cheer over his coolness.

You tell him he’ll be a great teacher, and he proposes to you on the spot.

SOME TIME INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

Obviously, you didn’t marry him back then. But you did finally accept being his girlfriend.

You live together now. Which is nice—not so different from living with your best friend.

Movie nights with candy and drinks—you’ve managed to sway him over to enjoy whine.

Rearranging things at home on a whim—often ending with a stupid layout—couch in the kitchen, where it will stay for a couple of days before you both find the energy to move it back.

You go shopping together and often end up buying things that don’t at all fit with the rest of the stuff at home—artwork, pillows, silly little decorations you just couldn’t leave the store without.

You share a lot of clothes too—hoodies, shirts, sweaters. Which he just loves.

He’s always gushing over you when you wear something he wore the day before.

He’s an ok cook. He can make the basics—wok, curry, ramen. His onigiri is never anything to post about, but hey, at least he actually cooks!

The clean-up is well… never small.

It doesn’t help that he’s always so sleepy after a proper meal, he just tugs you along to bed without putting the washer on.

Sleeping with you in his arms—all limbs tangled around you.

It’s funny, but you’d think with such a clingy lover-boy like Satoru, he’d come with a side of jealousy, but truly, you’ve never ever once seen that shade on him.

He’s excellent with all your friends and colleagues, even old friends and boyfriends you run into.

Instead of jealousy, he has this air of total ease—a certain smugness in a sense—as if there is nothing to worry about.

It's a trust that he puts in you—a quality that makes him seem so mature even when he often acts anything but.

Being with Satoru is strange. You often forget how old the two of you are. Somehow, he still acts the same way he did when he was in high school.

Taking you on amusement park dates, or to the movies to watch a children's film, or for ice cream in the park like you’re still teenagers.

He did end up becoming a teacher, though. Gojo Sensei.

Sometimes, he makes you call him that in the bedroom.

He teaches at the same high school you went to. He even brought home a girl’s uniform for you to wear.

You told him he was crazy if he thought you’d agree to that, but then… it was his only birthday wish.

“You’re just as cute as you were back then—I can’t believe you’ve stuck with me all this time—I love you so much—”

Ten years older, and he really hasn’t aged much at all...

Sometimes, he still cums in his pants after dry-humping.

Surprisingly, he really pulled his act together to teach both physics and gymnastics while sometimes subbing for philosophy.

It’s crazy, but he actually manages to make physics fun for the students. Several of them, even after graduation, still keep in touch.

It almost feels like the two of you already have kids.

But, of course, it’s nothing compared to when you actually see those two blue lines signaling your pregnancy.

You’re alone in the bathroom, rereading the instructions over and over.

You hadn’t wanted to tell Satoru—he’d only insist on watching you pee and being there for the entirety of it. But now that you know for certain it wasn’t just a hunch, you really wished he was in there with you.

“TORU!” you yell.

You hear the struggle of slippery steps as he rushes, coming bursting inside in seconds. “What!?! What is it?! Are you okay?!?”

You only hold up the pregnancy test you’d kept secret you’d bought.

His eyes are as wide as they’d been when you’d agreed to move in with him.

“We’re pregnant?” he all but cheers.

The smile that erupts on his face is nothing short of ecstatic as he kneels before the toilet you’re sitting on, hands holding your thighs as he buries his face between them, chanting “Oh my god, ohmygod, omigod—” between kisses. “You’re serious? We’re really pregnant?”

When he looks up, he’s crying. “That’s so great—”

You have to cup his face in your hands for him not to fall apart.

And the sight is all so reassuring, you have to laugh through the tears on your own face.

You spent the entire day in bed. Satoru with his cheek against your belly and arms wrapped around you, and you with your hands running through his hair as you both discuss baby names.

Surprisingly, it had come as a complete surprise. Not just being pregnant, but the entire gist of it—having kids.

Both of you have been so wrapped up in each other for the longest time—the thought of any other party had been completely lost.

On the other hand, you haven’t even gotten married yet.

Satoru doesn’t even have a ring, but he proposes to you then anyway.

And even though it’s so impromptu you have to laugh, you still say yes.

After all, you haven’t been able to imagine your life without Satoru for a long time.

Actually, you can’t even remember ever living a life without him.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

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muwapsturniolo · 1 month ago

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭

Headcanons

✘ fluff at the start, nsfw on the last part. sub!matt, big dick!matt, cuck!matt. mentions of hair pulling, overstimulation, nippple play, nipple clamps, degrading, being tied up, cum eating.

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who.... turns into puddy when you come around. There was something about your confidence and casual dominance that made him want to do anything and everything you asked of him

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who.... refuses to make eye contact with you, always looking off to the side or down at the ground, but he never fails to miss the smirk on your lips when you notice his nervous tendencies.

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who.... wasn't the one who asked you out, you asked him out - sort of. You told him one day he was your boyfriend and he didn't fight it. It was better you wore the pants in the relationship anyway.

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who....loves when you speak up for him. He always had issues speaking up for himself, so he adored the way you spoke up for him in any situation.

" 'Scuse me, he said no ketchup, you all made this wrong."

"Ok maybe you should get your own license instead of begging Matt to drive you around and getting pissed he said no! He'll drive you to the DMV since you're so eager to be driven somewhere."

"Nick stop calling him sassy when in reality he's overstimulated from you and Chris hollering every damn second!"

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who.... used to be too nervous to ask for your attention, now he's like a kitten, always whimpering and whining for your attention.

"Why are you whimpering?" You ask as Matt nuzzles his head into your stomach. He says nothing, simply lifting up your shirt and pulling it over his head. You smile softly and caress his head through the blue material.

"Such a baby," you coo softly, pulling another whine from him.

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who.... shys away from the affection you shower him with. it's not that he hates it, he just doesn't know how to react.

"You're so handsome, my pretty boy!" You mumble as you begin to kiss all over his face. His cheeks instantly warm, the skin turning a rosy color. "Stop it..." He mumbles as he does nothing to push you away, leaning into your assault of kisses.

"Mmm, no. Now shut up and let me love you."

「 ✦ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐋𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✦ 」

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who.... is sensitive everywhere, and loves that you use it to your advantage.

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who.... loves when you yank on his hair, his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip as his eyes roll back. He has a small thing for pain.

✧₊⁺ Speaking of pain....call him a masochist, but he loves the pleasurable pain you inflict on him. he loves the way you toy with his overly sensitive nipples, sometimes using nipple clamps or even trailing your manicured nails around the flesh in a teasing manner. He loves when you overstimulate him, his stomach clenching as his hand clench at the sheets. He loves everything about pain.

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who...has such a big and sensitive dick, that it hurts him when you deep throat.

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who.... has such a sensitive dick that the smallest touch has him creaming instantly. It was embarrassing, but he knew you loved it. You would purposely trail your hand over the front of his pants and he would instantly harden, flinching under your touch.

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who...ends up crying every time you two have sex. nothing is wrong, it just feels so good and he never wants it to stop.

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who...loves to be degraded. The harsh and filthy words compared to the praises he usually got from you made his dick jump.

✧₊⁺ Speaking of degradation....Matt would never admit it to anyone, but he was a cuck. He knew his place in the bedroom, always being on the bottom, he could never dominate you even if he tried. So the next best thing was letting another man dominate you, and he watches. Of course he's tied to a chair in the corner, his fingers clawing at the armrests as he watches your eyes roll back. It's only when you're spent on the bed, panting harshly, he's being untied by the other male.

✧₊⁺ Continued....Matt would rush toward you after being untied, instantly yanking you to the edge of the bed as he settles on his knees. He'd spread your legs apart and dive into your cum soaked cunt, lapping at your folds like a dehydrated dog while you and the other male watched with amused eyes.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt girl #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo headcanon #headcanon

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revasserium · 10 months ago

Note

Hey, can I request zoro x reader (established relationship) where the Strawhats end up going to reader’s home island (unknown to anyone in the group aside from reader), and the reader is super nervous and refuses to leave the boat, so the crew goes out and walk around and they find a missing/wanted poster of the reader and find out she’s a run away princess that needed to be. Later they coke to find out that reader ran away cause her parents and the servants mistreated and was about to marry her off to a violent prince

opla requests are: open

lips on every cross

opla!zoro; 5,989 words; fem!reader, semi-established?? relationship, posessive!zoro, strawhat!reader, no "y/n", reader gets kidnapped, fluff and angst, very brief! mentions of past familial abuse and trauma, nicknames ("Princess"), slow-ish burn???, more plot than not

summary: zoro has never thought himself a holy man. but he'd kiss every cross if it meant finding his way back to you.

a/n: idk why every opla fic i write is like... more plot than i bargained for but here we are. literally, this fic was just supposed to be "zoro calls the reader 'princess'".

01. when love arrives

(“Hey Princess —“)

The nickname starts, as almost all things do on the Going Merry, as a joke. And, as with most jokes made amongst the rag-tag crew, it sticks. He’d said it because he’s sure you’d mentioned your name once or twice already, but he’d been napping or eating and he didn’t feel like looking like an asshole right that moment.

The ribbon in your hair had caught the light in just the right way, pale pink satin — such a strange, soft color amidst the careening, careless ocean, and the word just… slipped.

“Why’dyou call her that?” Luffy asks, lounging back against the main mast as Zoro works through the umpteenth rep of single-armed pushups.

Zoro puffs out a breath and switches arms.

“Dunno. Seemed like it fit.”

Luffy slates you a long glance, blinking owlishly.

“Really? Eh — I guess… well, she is really pretty.”

Zoro only grunts, jumping up and stretching both arms over his head with a long, steady breath. His eyes flicker towards you as well, laughing with Nami on the foredeck, sipping on cocktails, Sanji probably simping somewhere nearby.

He thinks back to where they’d found you, hood pulled low over your eyes, the tell-tale signs of distress carved into every line of your body, from the curve of your spine to the bend of your shoulders.

Luffy hadn’t asked questions, so Zoro hadn’t either.

Curiosity, the fatal flaw that runs so sharp and obvious through the entirety of Luffy’s being, hasn’t always been rewarded well in Zoro’s experience. And he’s learned by now that “truth will out”, or so they say.

(“C’mon, Princess, I thought you said you could drink.”)

Caution, on the other hand, is Zoro’s oldest friend. You are cautious, if nothing else, and the first time he sees you relax in his presence, he wonders to himself if there’s a drug in this world strong enough to induce this feeling.

Later, he would learn that this is simply called falling in love.

He isn’t the only one who notices how you casually dip a silver fork or knife into every single drink before you take a sip, or that sometimes, you blurt out the word “no’ like a promise to yourself, and “sorry” like a plea for help.

And he’s spent long enough being a hunter to know what being hunted looks like. So he doesn’t ask, and you don’t answer, and somehow, you still manage to make yourself a home in the dark caverns of his chest, curling up there till he can’t count his heartbeats without it sounding like the shadow of your name on the midnight wind.

02. a study of light and dark

The drinking game starts off innocently enough (and don’t they always), but it takes half a round for the questions and subsequent answers to devolve into loud laughter and debauchery, delirium and debasement.

“Alright, alright —“ Sanji holds up a hand, tossing back his shot to raucous cheers, “worst thing you’ve done in a closet. Go —“

Zoro rolls his eyes and takes the shot, foregoing his answer. Nami simply grins, catlike, swirling her own drink around her glass.

“In your wildest dreams, cook,” she says before taking her shot as well. Sanji lets out a contemplative whistle, followed by a good-natured wink.

“Define worst, cause… I mean, I’ve puked in like… most of them back in Syrup Village,” Usopp says. Sanji only chuckles, shrugging.

“We’ll take it, we’ll take it.”

Luffy hums, frowning for a second before smacking a fist into his open palm, grinning, “I took a nap!”

Everyone laughs, helpless and buoyed up by the casual effervescence of a night like this — when the moon is dark and the stars are bright and thin wisps of silver clouds mar the sky like tendrils of lost daydreams, caught on the wrong side of sunset.

When the laughter settles down, everyone turns to you.

You purse your lips, feeling the weight of your answer pressing down on the tip of your tongue — I hid. And I waited. And I tried not to listen.

As the silence stretches on, Zoro leans forward and uncrosses his arms, reaching out to nudge a full shot glass towards you.

“Times up, Princess — drink,” and though there’s nothing soft or even forgiving in his voice, but you feel yourself relax as everyone boos and you take your shot.

The heat of Zoro’s gaze only lingers on your skin for a moment longer before he leans back again, that familiar almost-grin tugging lazily at his lips as he turns half-lidded eyes towards the rest of his crew.

(“Talk to me, Princess.”)

When you find him later, fumbling in the dark of the hallway just outside his room, you kiss him without saying “thank you” and he doesn’t question it when, pressed beneath him on the rough linen of his sheets, you ask to keep the lights on.

03. etymology

Princess — it’s a nice word, Zoro muses to himself. The light pop of the ‘p’ rolling into the warm, round ‘r’, thinning out into the sensual layering of the double ‘s’s, till you’re left with nothing but a hiss, a shadow, a memory.

It’s a regal word; a pretty word. Though its origins might be anything but.

From the Latin primus “first” and cept “catcher”, or so Robin had told him over the pages of an ancient book he hadn’t bothered to ask the name of, because Princes and Kings have always obtained their powers through taking, and never asking. Reaping, and never sowing.

Zoro thinks then that this, too, is a form conquest — you over him. The totality of your power stunning to behold, if only because he has to let you take it in the first place. And he does so willingly.

He wonders if you, too, are as multifaceted as his nickname for you — delicacy and desire wrapped around a darker something, lace laid over a knife’s unforgiving edge.

The first time he dares to kiss you, he feels you kissing him back, the sharp canines of your teeth catching on his lower lip, drawing out a soft grunt from him. You’d paused, and then you’d bitten down harder just to hear him gasp into your mouth.

He knew then, without ever having to ask, that you are.

04. tip of the iceberg

It is winter when they arrive — but then again, it is always winter here. Here, the cold runs so deep it drives frost crystals into the marrow of your bones. Here, the wind howls like a wounded animal and the night falls with a savage, carnal vengeance, all black velvet and a blood-tinted moon.

Here, the snow storms turn living, breathing heroes into song lyrics and poetry rhymes.

You inhale a single breath before turning and heading back below deck.

Zoro frowns, and at a single look from Luffy, he follows you beneath, only to find you rummaging around the kitchen, tugging a bottle of moonshine out from under the sink.

“Whoa,” Zoro says, reaching out to stop you from uncorking the bottle, an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t miss the way you shiver, “bit early, isn’t it?”

“Bit rich, coming from you,” you snap, eyes sharp, voice stinging.

Zoro only cocks his other eyebrow in tandem and pulls the bottle from your hands before turning and grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. He takes his time filling them both with ice, and then pouring a finger into each glass.

You don’t meet his eyes as you reach out for your glass, but he catches your wrist.

“A drink for an answer,” he says.

You pause, your lips pressed into a thin, white line. And he knows it’s unfair, to turn this game around on you, because he can tell from the hard set of your shoulders that this is so much more than a drinking game but if this is what it takes to get the truth — then so be it.

“Fine,” you say, glancing away, voice clipped.

You move to take a sip, but Zoro pushes down your hand again.

“No lying.”

You scoff, narrowing your eyes, “Obviously.”

He eases off, picking up his own glass and clinking it against yours before taking a light swig, “You know this place.”

This time, you’re the one who turns around with a cocked brow.

“Got a question in there somewhere?”

Zoro’s lips twitch, “Yes, or no.”

You sigh, tapping a finger against the edge of your cup, “Yes.”

Zoro hums, “Your turn.”

You chew on your lips before taking a sip, “Why do you care so much?”

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Stupid question. Next.”

You huff, “That’s not how this game goes.”

Zoro swirls his glass before setting it down on the counter with a loud clack, “Because I care about you.”

You pause with your own drink halfway to your mouth and look up. Zoro doesn’t shy away from meeting your gaze and for a moment, time statics to a halt around you.

Then, Zoro sighs, unclenching his jaw as he attempts a lopsided smile.

“Hey, talk to me,” he reaches out to trail a finger along the high of your cheekbones, up to the shell of your ear.

The ‘please’ hangs silent in the air between you; the ‘Princess’ is implied.

And for the first time, he thinks he sees you flinch. He makes to pull back but you tug his hand forward, pressing your cheek against his palm.

“This island,” you say, finally, the tremor in your voice like a hairline fracture snaking through a porcelain vase, “it’s… well, it used to be… my home.”

05. the secret history

It is the most beautiful place any of them have ever been.

The castle is made entirely of ice, the cold winter sun refracting the light into a million and one unseen colors. Giant ice-carved sculptures dot the crystal-flower gardens, and it takes them all a few minutes to realize that the gorgeous, delicate blooms are made of glass, blown and shaped to mirror real-life snowflakes — each unique, glittering, and eternal.

“Dude… how long do you think all this took to make?” Usopp asks, his head turning as if on a swivel, his jaw hinging off his face in awe.

Robin sighs, “Too long, perhaps.”

Zoro stays quiet, and beside him, so does Nami.

You’d insisted on staying back, to guard the ship, you’d said. But the space you usually fill in the group hangs solid in the air, a gaping hole of lack when there should be none.

Luffy hums and he marches out in front of them, ever the dubious, fearless leader. Though most of the crew has now come to terms with the fact that “courage” and “sheer bull-headedness” are often two sides of the same coin for him.

It’s Sanji who pauses first, causing Chopper to ram into the back of his knees.

“Ouch! What’dyou do that f —”

“Look,” Sanji says, pointing at a poster pasted to the slick outer wall of the castle gates.

And they do, leaning in, crowding too close. Zoro grunts as Chopper jumps and scrambles up his back to peer over his shoulder at the face plastered on the dew-soaked poster, the words LOST PRINCESS: 120,000,000 FOR ANY INFORMATION THAT LEADS TO HER WHEREABOUTS printed in giant, familiar block letters along the bottom.

Beside him, Zoro can feel Nami swallowing. Hard.

“A hundred and twenty million berry…” she murmurs, her breath going shallow as they all stare, dumbfounded at the poster of what is unmistakably you.

You, with your exquisite features schooled into something like solemnity, your usually wind-swept hair twisted up into a tight braid across the crown of your head, a diadem of ice-white silver and light-cut jewels jutting up from your severe updo like so many broken teeth, sharp and unforgiving as stalagmites.

If none of them had known, it’d be impossible to reconcile you with this cold, distant portrait, your eyes rendered lifeless and dull by the depthless black ink.

Luffy, however, only blinks and turns to stare at Zoro.

“Did you know?”

“What?”

Luffy continues to stare, “When I asked why you always call her ‘Princess’.”

Zoro sighs, turning his eyes back to the WANTED poster before shaking his head.

“No. Like I said… I thought it just… fit.”

06. eternal day

Zoro is itching to get back to the ship. There’s a fish-line sliver of worry tugging at the place behind his chest where his heart should be, and he knows implicitly that something is wrong.

“Don’t worry, she can take care of herself!” Luffy says, smiling bright, his confidence unwavering.

“No Luffy, Zoro’s right — someone should be with her. What if —” and here, Nami glances at Zoro before turning her attention back to Luffy, “— she might need the backup,” is what she finally settles with. And to Zoro’s great relief, Luffy agrees.

And then, to everyone’s horror, off in the distance, your voice rises over the wind in a blood-curdling scream.

07. endless night

By the time Zoro makes it back to the ship, you are already gone.

08. torn asunder

Gone, gone, gone. The word echoes like an ill-fated alarm bell, ringing through Zoro’s entire body as he catapults himself through the ship, slamming open every door, checking every nook, corner, and crevice. Signs of a struggle, that much is clear, scuffs on the freshly waxed planks of the aft deck, nail marks along the railings, and —

Zoro’s breath freezes in his chest.

A smear of blood that drips over the side of the ship, trailing down the ladder.

A flash of pale pink catches his eye.

Your satin hair ribbon lies abandoned on the wharfs’ boardwalk, the faintest splatter of red soaking its ends.

He picks it up between gentle fingers and tucks it deep into his pocket.

His vision blurs red as he thinks about the things your captors might’ve done to you before dragging you off. He’s seen you fight and it wouldn’t have been easy to bring you down.

And by the time the rest of the crew reach him, he’s already sprinting back towards the castle, his jaw set, his teeth gritted.

It takes the combined effort of Sanji, Luffy, and Robin to stop him from charging through the castle gates and tearing the whole place down.

“Runnin’ round like a headless chicken’s not gonna do her any good, mate,” Sanji says, a smoke already caught between his teeth. A pre-fight ritual of his.

Zoro jerks his arm out of Sanji’s grasp, stalking down the street with a huff.

Robin strolls after him, somehow keeping pace, looking unhurried as Zoro tamps down the blind urge to slash the entire island in half.

“We’ll find her,” Robin says, her voice level, even as her sharp eyes scan the white-specked horizon, the usually amused half-twist of her lips laid flat by worry, “and she’s stronger than you think.”

At this, Zoro whips around, “I know —” but he bites down the venom threatening to surge up the back of his throat with a sigh. Robin doesn’t flinch, and Zoro attempts a steadying breath before repeating himself in a slightly softer tone, “I know… I’m just…”

Robin nods, and Zoro is thankful that he doesn’t have to finish his sentence.

09. the tower and the throne

The cold greets you like a scorned lover— a spiteful, savage mistress. Tendrils of frost creep along the walls of your old bedroom to caress your cheeks. You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, sitting on familiar satin sheets.

“Dinner is soon, darling,” your mother’s cool voice calls from outside your bedroom door, “and make yourself presentable — we’ve got guests.”

The sadistic lilt of her voice as she says the word ‘guests’ makes you jerk your head up, staring at the door as if you might be able to bore through the thick wood with nothing but your eyes. And, almost as if she can feel you staring, you hear your mother’s cold, tinkling laughter.

“Hurry now… I had your favorite dress put out for you. It should still fit — and we don’t want to keep them… waiting.”

The slow, sanguine pause before her last word makes you want to rip out your hair and scream into the wind till your voice gives out.

Instead, you push yourself up and reach for the dress laid out at the foot of your bed with shaking fingers.

The dress fits you like a second skin, the delicate lace trim barely sweeping the floor as you adjust the bodice, grimacing at your reflection in the large, floor-length mirror. It is as if the last ten months had never happened, as if you’d never escaped this terrifying hellscape of a winter wonderland. As if you’d simply dreamed every single sun-filled afternoon, every star-strewn night spent laughing and singing amongst your new-found crew.

Here, in the fragile glass reflection, you are once again a girl trapped behind her own ribcage, with a destiny carved into stone and ice, with no hope of summer in sight. You take a long breath and tighten the ribbons of your dress.

You are still and silent as the maid slips in through the door after a single knock and begins to twist up your hair. Tighter and tighter, till it sets your teeth on edge. When she pins the crown in place, it takes everything inside you not to fall apart, to shatter at the weight, the sight of it sitting on your head. You swallow as the maid dips her head and backs out of the room with a murmured dinner is served, Princess.

For the first time, you wince openly at her words.

10. waiting for the rain

The hall is just how you remembered it, huge and cavernous, gaping like the empty maw of some petrified monster, the ceiling hanging with so many cold, sparkling chandeliers, ice-carved statues jutting up from the floors like teeth.

You’re marched in like a show animal, the great marble doors swinging open before you as you step forward and feel your breath freeze in your chest.

There, strung up on a massive statue of some long-forgotten saint, is Zoro, cuts and bruises marring his already scarred and puckered torso. But he smirks as he sees you come in, his eyes bright as he spits a mouthful of blood onto the seemingly endless white floors. Around him, the rest of your crew sits, tied and slumped over in chairs like so many sleeping mannequins.

“Hey there, Princess. Just in time for dinner.”

You nearly wince at the raspiness in his voice, the faint trickle of blood that leaks out the corner of his mouth.

“Silence,” your father’s voice echoes out from the high-backed chair at the head of the ludicrously long table. You don’t have to see to know his face is as smooth as just-applied plaster. But Zoro only has eyes for you — and he continues to talk as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

“If you’d told us we’d be welcomed like this, we might’ve packed differently.”

You bite down on your bottom lip so hard you almost taste the metallic tang of blood.

“Our daughter has always been a skillful liar — though it’s a habit we tried to… rid her of in her youth. The lesson never seemed to have stuck.” Your mother this time. And now, you can see the muscle ticking in Zoro’s jaw as he scoffs.

“Really? And here I always thought she was shit at lying.”

You swallow down a whimper as the maid wordlessly leads you to the far end of the table, where Zoro is still tied. You drop into the seat between a snoring Luffy and an eerily still Nami, and it’s all you can do not to turn around and retch onto the silk embroidered rug.

“Be that as it may…” your mother’s voice drops a few degrees — an admirable feat, as her voice is usually just on the other side of frigid, “it’s bad luck to kill on the eve of a royal wedding.”

At this, Zoro’s head snaps around and you shrink back in your chair, your eyes fixed on your fists, clenched in your lap.

“Mother,” you grind out, finally forcing your head up so as to meet her piercing, blizzard-bright gaze, “I’ve told you, I’ve no intention of getting married. At least not to the mongrel you’ve decided to set me up with.”

You spit out the last sentence, trying to remember all the snark, all the confidence that’d built up inside you over the past weeks and months. Away from this dreaded castle and on the sun-soaked bow of the Going Merry, it was the first time you’d begun to discover who you are — the things you liked, the ways of life that you yearned for.

Your father slams a hand on the table at the same moment that Zoro lets out a bark of laughter.

“Insolence!”

“Damn, Princess — you never told me you could bite.”

And, to your horror and perhaps deep-seated pleasure, a blush works its way into your cheeks at Zoro’s words. Your eyes snap towards him, catching his gaze as he smirks at you. And even though his shirt is slashed, his sword hilts hanging woefully empty at this hip, his hands twisted painfully behind him on the statue, he still manages an easy, condescending air.

You seize at this tiny tendril of normalcy as you force a wane smile.

“I might be persuaded to do more than that… if you ask nicely.”

Zoro’s snicker is drowned out by your mother’s sharp gasp. But you don’t look away, holding Zoro’s gaze for as long as you dare — in it, you find an entire abyss of barely concealed rage (and is that… amusement?), his entire body straining against the shackles that hold him. Then, his eyes slip from you to a point just over your shoulder.

It’s then that you realize: Luffy’s not snoring anymore.

11. to reap and to sow

You’re never quite certain of how the Merry’s crew seems to always just wriggle out of frankly gruesome and untimely deaths, but here you are, racing for the docks like your lives depended on it. Because, well, it kind of does.

“Remind me —” you shout between pants, one hand clutched firmly in Zoro’s, the other doing its best to lift the ridiculous dinner dress they’d put you in — a confection of lace and tulle, the bodice laced with pale pink satin ribbon, “how the hell did you guys manage to trick my parents into thinking you’d eaten the spiked food?”

Sanji flashes you a toothy grin, “Ah love… you know how it is — ask us no questions, and we’ll tell you no lies!”

Luffy, however, whoops as he launches himself from a pair of solid brick buildings, catapulting himself over your sprinting crew.

“We just — pretended to eat! I mean — I did kinda actually eat a bit — but — it wasn’t that bad!”

You resist the urge to pinch your nose bridge at the nonchalance with which Luffy is talking about consuming poisoned food, but you’ve only got two hands and both are equally occupied at the moment. You settle for an exasperated sigh.

“That was — really stupid! — What if — they’d — poisoned the food — with something — other than — sleeping medicine?!” you ask, forcing air into your lungs as finally, you all round the bend onto the bustling pier, the Going Merry’s unmistakable shape silhouetted against the misty horizon.

“We can talk when — we’re all back — on the ship!” Nami calls as she sprints passed you, reaching out a hand for Luffy, who’s elongated arm grabs her and slings her onto the deck of the ship. You barely have a second to breathe before Zoro’s arm loops around your waist and you’re being pulled tight into his side.

His breath is hot against your collarbone as he smirks, “Hold on tight, Princess.”

It’s all you can do to listen as you’re suddenly whipped through the air like a doll on a drunken marionette’s string. A bright peal of Luffy-tinted laughter later, you thud onto the deck of the Going Merry, the breath knocked clean from your lungs as the world spins and spins. You’d expected to hit solid wood, or maybe even the railing or the mast but —

Zoro groans beneath you, and it takes you a long second to realize that he’d cushioned your fall, your bodies pressed chest to chest, hip to hip, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders, his still steady around your waist.

“O-oh! Sorry —” you try to pull away but Zoro’s grip on you only tightens.

You freeze as he blinks up at you, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Crown’s crooked,” Zoro finally says, that tell-tale smirk twisting the edge of his lips as his gaze flickers upwards. Your hand jumps to the crown, somehow still clipped into your now disheveled hair, lopping to one side as the braids start to come loose. You purse your lips.

“I never liked it anyway…” You make to tug it out but Zoro reaches up to right it, though he lets his hand linger as he falls along the side of your face.

“Nah, looks good on you.” His voice is so low, and suddenly, air is such a language that you’re certain you’d forgotten how to speak. Slowly, he pushes up till you’re both sitting, you still pressed against him and him still pressed against you. Distantly, you can hear shouting, Usopp’s voice raised high over the wind as the Merry careens out of port and towards the open sea.

But strangely, no one makes to pull you away from him, or him from you.

“I should’ve told you guys…” you say, eyes casting down as you rest your palms against his chest. Beneath it, you can feel his heart — pounding, pounding, pounding. There’s a light sheen of sweat glimmering on his honeyed skin as you swallow, looking back up even as he chuckles.

“Sure, but we should’ve asked.”

You bite your lips, “I think you did.”

Zoro grins, shrugging as he helps you up, somehow managing to keep his arm slipped around your waist.

“Well. Should’ve asked better, then.”

12. lost stars

It takes you a while to tell them the story — the real story, the whole story. And there’s drinking involved, but it’s mostly just you clutching at your half-filled glass, Zoro’s knee pressed comfortingly against yours, even though his eyes are closed, his head leaned back, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

You tell them about the dark underbelly of royalty that everyone knows but no one wants to talk about — the blood and teeth beneath the silk and silver. You tell them about being raised a bargaining chip, of being sold and promised like a prized heifer on auction day.

You tell them about the moonless nights when the only thing you had to keep you company was the cold, about the “lessons” your mother would teach you, about how the maids would be instructed to hide the bruises just so, about the Prince who you were set to marry and the rumors that plagued his castle —

“They say that he’d take the prettiest girls from the surrounding town as his maids and that none of them ever walked out of his castle again,” you say. The moonshine burns on its way down your throat as you finish your drink.

Wordlessly, Zoro reaches over to pluck the glass from your hand and set it on the table. It’s only then that you realize your fingers are white and trembling.

“Did he hurt you?”

Zoro’s voice is not loud, but everyone turns to look at him. You shake your head, clasping your hands in your lap.

“No. I only ever… met him once, at a dinner party. It was after that that I… ran away.”

Zoro hums, leaning back again, “Good.”

Across the room, Sanji blows out a series of smoke rings and frowns.

“Were you about to offer to hunt him down?” Robin asks, sounding amused.

Zoro shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered — would’ve just done it.”

“He sounds like the kinda guy we should hunt down anyway, no?” Luffy asks, cocking his head as he looks back at you, “I mean, I’m glad he never hurt you but… he’s still hurting people!”

“Luffy’s got a point,” Sanji says, stubbing out his cigarette.

“For once, I agree with Sanji,” Nami says.

There’s a light squabble during which Sanji makes an aggrieved noise and Nami rolls her eyes, and then everyone is laughing and chatting and more drinks are being poured. Next to you, Zoro reaches out to wrap his arm around your waist again. It’s something he’s been doing more lately, and you can’t honestly say that you mind it much at all.

“We don’t have to,” he says, leaning forward, almost as if to brush his lips by your ear, “if… if you don’t want to.”

You shiver at the base rumble of his voice, at the way his eyes are so warm and full of some uncertain promise.

“No, I… I do want to. It’s just…”

Zoro’s fingers trace small, absent-minded circles into the skin of your waist and you fight down another shiver.

“I don’t plan on letting you get kidnapped again, Princess.”

Your gaze snaps up to meet Zoro’s, and there’s a faint smile kissing the line of his lips. And suddenly, the lightness of his touch doesn’t feel so thoughtless as heat curls out from the place where his palm meets your skin, radiating out till you’re breathless with it.

“Oh?”

“Never liked people trying to take what’s mine.”

And the dark possessiveness with which he says mine leaves little room for interpretation, even as you lick your lips and try to think of something witty to say.

“I don’t remember agreeing to be yours.”

It’s the best you can come up with; Zoro’s only response is a soft, contemplative grunt.

“What’s that saying? ‘Actions speak louder than words’?” he flashes you a satisfied grin as you narrow your eyes at him, swatting at his chest as he laughs.

“I meant it though,” he says, a moment later, as the rest of the crew all chatter around you, “about calling it off if you don’t want to. But…” he reaches up a free hand to tug a strand of your hair free from the ponytail it’s tied up in.

“Figured you might sleep better at night knowing he’s gone.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding, your whole body softening as you lean into him, pressing your palms to his chest as he looks at you.

“Yeah… I think I might. And… like you said… it’s not like I’m gonna get kidnapped again.”

You smile, letting your eyes flicker down to Zoro’s lips. His smile is pleased and just a little jagged as he tugs you up by the hand and the pair of you slip from the room.

Above deck, the sun is setting, and the warm, slanted light casts the entire ship in a glaze of gold that looks almost gilded. You lean against the railings, closing your eyes and letting the warmth of the sun seep into your skin, chasing away the chill that’d been lingering at your fingertips since you’d all made your spectacular escape from your home island.

You feel rather than hear Zoro join you. You take your time breathing in the salty tang of the humid sea air before opening your eyes and slating him a side-long look.

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

“For coming after me.”

Zoro scoffs, turning away from the roiling waves to lean back against the railings, his head cocked as he looks you over.

“Like I said… I don’t like it when people try to take what’s mine.”

But this time, you laugh, nodding, “So you’ve said. But still… thanks.”

“Hn.”

Zoro closes his eyes, seemingly enjoying the last vestiges of the setting sun as it sinks ever-lower along the horizon. Then, he opens one eye to peer at you.

“Though I’ve been meaning to ask —”

“Hm?”

“What’s this about doing more than biting… if asked about it nicely enough?”

You try to duck your head but Zoro catches your chin in his fingers.

“I — I just… knew it would piss off my mother if she —”

“Mm, sounded like more than that to me.”

Your breath hitches as Zoro’s thumb traces a rough line along your bottom lip.

“How about… I show you?” and the offer is barely out of your mouth before Zoro is kissing you, his mouth seeking out yours with a soft groan that betrays all the lightness in his touch as he trails his free hand down your arm to pull hard at your waist.

And it’s not the first time you’ve kissed. It’s not even the first time a kiss with Zoro has become more than just a kiss, though you’d always been careful before to make sure that he knew (though thinking back, it might’ve just been an ill-fated attempt at lying to yourself) that the pleasure shared between bodies was just that — pleasure and bodies.

But this — this kiss becomes, and becomes.

It becomes breath and heartbeats, pleasure and heat. It becomes truth and promises and the tantalizing taste of fairy-tale endings.

“Z-Zoro…”

“Yes Princess?”

You hiss as his teeth grazes along your pulse point and your fingers fist in his hair.

“Y’know…” your voice comes out as nothing more than a soft pant as Zoro tugs you over to one of the reclining chairs beneath the orange trees and pulls you over his hips, “I’ve never liked being called that but…”

“But?” his thumbs inch beneath the material of your shirt, circling your hipbones as he smirks up at you.

“I don’t mind it when it’s you.”

Zoro’s grin goes wide and wolfish. Above him, the first stars spark into being as the sun finally sinks beyond the far horizon. For a second, his smile softens as he reaches up to toy with the end of the pale pink ribbon in your hair. Then, he gives it a single, solid tug, and your hair falls open around your shoulders, tumbling down in waves.

Zoro leans up to press a light kiss to the blood-stained satin before letting it flutter off in the wind, twisting into the rapidly darkening night.

“Good… cause I ain’t about to let anyone else call you that either.”

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