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seonghwaddict · 8 months ago

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save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #ateez #ateez x reader #song mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi reactions #mingi imagines #mingi smut #mingi fluff #mingi angst #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez smut

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strangerstilinski · 30 days ago

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𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: eddie in blue jeans. eddie leaking in blue jeans. eddie cumming in blue jeans. that's it, that's the fic. [ 2.9k ]

𝗰𝘄: reader with a vagina & breasts, 1 occurrence where reader refers to themselves as a girl, overuse of italics probably, other than that we just have heaping doses of heavy petting, grinding, and kissing. oh! and a certain someone cumming in his pants ofc

𝗮/𝗻: imo the second half of this is where i reaaally shined, ok? there's just... something so *clenches fist* about eddie who's so turned on by you that he's stupid with it. anyway, thank you for reading! xx and remember to reblog to make eddie cum <3

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖𝟏𝟖+ 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

The curls at the nape of Eddie's neck are damp where they tangle around your fingers. His breath rolls out in hot waves against your tongue, full, split-slick lips moving eagerly against your own. Eddie is kissing you like he thinks he might die without the taste of you, fervent and hungry and seemingly determined to stake some sort of claim on your mouth.

You've only been at it for five minutes but, seriously, how in the hell did normal people ever make it through an entire evening without devouring their date? Either they are far stronger than you, or it's the power of something you'd simply dubbed The Eddie Munson Effect.

Regardless, you're feeling beyond desperate.

Because you'd had to watch every single stumbling step Eddie made throughout the evening as he quite literally tripped over his own feet in a rush to open doors for you. He'd done so with all of his usual awkward charm, arm extended with gentlemanly grandeur — and on one occasion, he'd even bent at the waist into an adorably courteous little bow as he'd waited for you to step through. Each time, his hand found the small of your waist, and while he would linger a second longer than was strictly necessary, his touch always remained polite and comforting, never bleeding into the possessive brand that you'd noticed beneath the hands of men in the past.

Then again, every brush of Eddie's fingers over the course of the evening had sent sparks down your spine.

There'd been one moment, when the wind had caught the hem of your skirt and sent it billowing up — you'd felt the cool air rush all the way up to the sliver of tummy above your underwear — but Eddie's hands had been quick to find your waist, smoothing the fabric back down over your thighs and holding it there for a beat. Thick fingers and clunky silver rings had hesitated on your hips until the breeze died down, and then Eddie's face had gone red in a way that had little to do with the chill in the air, and entirely more to do with the sudden realization of how close you were, how intimate the brush of his pinky was against the warm skin at the back of your thigh.

And you absolutely had to take into account the condition in which he'd showed up on your doorstep. With a crisp white tshirt tucked neatly into the waistband of light-wash jeans. His hair shining lightly with gel, curls coiled in slightly neater than usual ringlets. With his jaw shaved smooth, and his skin smelling sharply of a rich, woodsy aftershave or cologne that gave you butterflies every time you breathed in.

Then there was the way each and every hearty chuckle that he'd let out over the course of the evening had curled in your ears and proceeded to pool pleasantly in your gut. The way every dramatic story retelling had left you fully enraptured right from the start. The way every dimpled grin had practically sucked the air straight from your lungs. And your ever-deepening feelings for him had only solidified with each of his stuttered attempts to accept your compliments.

All evening long, you'd been eager to fast-forward, to get right here. Home, on your couch, thighs splayed wide over the cradle of Eddie's lap, skin flushed with heat, with your skirt rucked up and your sweater steadily slipping down your shoulder.

And now that you're here, Eddie's hands have undertaken the impossible task of clutching at every part of you at once. Ringed fingers rake down your back only to grab ahold of your ass to drag you more heavily into his lap. Your teeth catch on his lower lip when he forces your hips to roll in a staggered rhythm, shaky thrusts driving his own hips up and slotting the bulge in his jeans just where you needed it to relieve some of the pressure between your thighs.

You both gasp into the kiss at the friction that the poorly-synchronized movements are making. The rough chafe of his zipper and denim against the cotton of your panties is only just shy of being too much. It's delicious.

"Y-your roommate-" Eddie pulls away to stutter against your cheek.

"Out." You supply in a rush before your mouths are crashing together again like magnets.

Eddie makes a small noise in the back of his throat, a satisfied sort of drawn-out groan that has your head spinning. You can still taste the lingering traces of the cigarette he'd smoked during the short walk back to his van, and the breath mint that he'd popped into his mouth immediately after. The mingling flavors are enough to give you a headrush. As if the combination of mint and nicotine were absorbing straight into your bloodstream merely from licking it from his mouth. But, maybe that has more to do with the way Eddie is kissing you-

Eddie seems to approach kissing with the same over-abundance of heart and enthusiasm that he does with literally everything else. Plush lips work against your own, smoothly encouraging your mouth open for him every time you dare to draw back for a quick breath. It's a perfect give and take, an intoxicating push and pull that you had zero qualms about getting lost in.

This has always been your favorite part of foreplay. The slow-building desperation. The shared breaths. The wandering hands. The heated teasing that you felt pulsing in your clit and all the way down to your toes. It's something you normally relish in drawing out as long as possible, until your panties are soaked through and your lips are sore, but, fuck-

You can feel how hard Eddie is growing beneath you. The warmth of his cock burns all the way through his jeans until you swear you can feel it against your cunt and inner thighs— Until you swear you can nearly distinguish the sheer heat of the blood swelling his erection from the less-oppressive warmth emanating from his legs. And when his mouth trails down the line of your jaw to kiss and nip at your throat, you can't help but attempt to sneak a peek at the arousal you've drawn out of him.

The sight doesn't disappoint.

His bulge stretches all the way from the bottom of the zip on his jeans and across the crease of his thigh. The obvious curve of his shaft straining against its tight confines stretches across his left thigh and then tapers out at the head of his cock—Jesus, he’s huge—and if you squint, you think you might even be able to make out a small spot, no more than the size of pea, where the light wash denim looks just a bit, well, wet. And, holy shit.

It's drool-worthy. It's so hot. Your mouth might genuinely be watering just looking at it-

Oh, god. You really needed to kiss him just a little longer. You were certainly not about to be the girl who drops to their knees to suck a guy's dick within ten measly minutes of getting through the front door on a first goddamn date. That would be ridiculous.

You'd make it at least twenty, surely — Maybe fifteen.

In the meantime, more kissing. And that would be all too easy with the way Eddie's hands slip lower along the curve of your ass as he finds your mouth again. His fingers burying deeper into your flesh, rings biting with a sharp pinch that makes you keen and release an encouraging moan.

There's a fire building behind your clit with every drag of your hips. You feel deranged beneath the haze of your lust, but Eddie only seems to be matching your need every step of the way.

You've never seen him quite so out of control. So desperate, and God it's a beautiful sight.

Eddie's spine arches forward from the back of the couch to push his chest to your own. Your hips stutter, driving down against the bulge in his jeans. The hard line of his cock wedges neatly at your center, fighting against the oppressive barrier of your underwear and his jeans. Dull as it is, it gives the barest hint as to what it would be like to have him actually pressing into your aching cunt, stretching you out.

Just the thought makes your hips buck, little rolls of your hips re-doubling in effort. The pressure against your entrance has you whining pitifully as Eddie's tongue strokes over yours. One of those gorgeous, wide palms of his moves up to your jaw to hold your face steady as he attempts to swallow up your sounds.

"Eddie." You pant brokenly, a plea. Because you're trying, really, but fuck. If you didn't get him inside of you — in one way or another — in the next few minutes, you very well might lose your mind.

Your fingers wind tighter into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp in that soft way that makes Eddie's cock jump in his pants.

The noises you're making..

They're better than any song Eddie has ever heard in his entire life, high and needy and so fucking hot. Every little sound has Eddie's thighs flexing beneath you in an attempt to keep his erection pressed snug to your cunt, to push the intoxicating ebb and flow that the two of you have going over into something more. Into a constant, blissful friction.

Another minute of the heavy grind of your pussy over his lap has Eddie's cock twitching again, his balls tightening up and his brain growing too foggy to hold back the needy whimpers that rise in his own throat.

“Shit-” Eddie gasps, his voice gone raspy with need.

You murmur something in response that gets muffled by Eddie's lips and tongue. Something about wanting his cock on your tongue but also possibly inside your pussy — The details are unclear. Eddie has no idea which exactly you're angling toward, but he's ready to bust already and you're both still fully-clothed, so. He's just praying to Ozzy that he'll even make it that far.

He probably needs to take a breather, and really he's going to, but then your hips stutter and you let out the sweetest little moan and Eddie kind of goes dumb with it.

He's too far gone to hear the telltale rattle of keys against your front door, or the click of the lock that has your own head snapping up toward the doorway in surprise. You stiffen above him, your ass driving down against his cock as your movements come to a halt and your weight drops heavily into his lap.

And shit, he'd already been fucking throbbing in his jeans. The new pressure on his erection is just too much.

A small noise of shock and pleasure tears from Eddie's throat, a pathetic sounding thing that makes your cunt clench around absolutely nothing and a rush of arousal soak the cotton of your panties. His lips part beneath your own unmoving ones, his jaw gone slack around the broken moan that falls into the heat of your mouth.

Eddie's hips buck up sharply, fingers biting meanly into your hips as warmth floods his briefs, cock twitching and eyes rolling back as he shakes through the quick waves of his orgasm. His brain is pure static, ears ringing with such strength that your nervous laugh and stammered greeting sound far off despite you being pressed so close to him. Everything sounded just a bit like he was underwater.

His head clears a little as you brace your hands on his shoulders and push yourself up, his eyes popping open as the distance between you grows and the warmth of your body disappears altogether. You're smiling awkwardly, laughing despite yourself, with your gaze locked somewhere over his shoulder as you attempt to smooth out the wrinkles in your skirt — and then Eddie finally processes the sound of Robin's voice in the entryway behind him.

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Eddie's heart had already been beating heavily, but suddenly he swears he can feel each and every rhythmic pump of the blood in his veins. The strength of it makes his pulse thump so violently in the hollow of his throat that his eye might've been twitching in time with each beat.

His gaze drops to his lap, where, to his horror, light blue denim is already a few shades darker. His cum is already soaking through his underwear and very, very quickly spreading into a wider, far more noticeable wet patch, and Jesus fucking Christ, this cannot be happening to him-

He tugs at his pant-leg desperately in an attempt to draw the fabric away from where the cum had pooled in the crease of his pelvis and then dripped steadily down the length of his thigh, but it's too late.

He'd come.. so hard. And so much. His pants are stretched too fucking tight because he's sitting and you'd just rung out every last fucking drop of cum from his balls with your pretty pussy rubbing over his lap again and again and-

Robin's muffled curse breaks through his inner-turmoil, followed by the loud thud of something heavy landing on the kitchen counter behind him. Eddie turns sideways in his seat to find Robin with flushed cheeks and sweat beading on her brow, her arms draped limply around a large television set. She's panting exaggeratedly, mouth running a mile a minute as she regales the story of the older couple on the first floor who had upgraded to a 35-inch and offered up their old console for, quote: “Twenty bucks! A goddamn steal, you guys-!”

The two of you are babbling excitedly back and forth, the front door to your apartment still hanging slightly ajar all the while. Eddie realizes, belatedly, that Robin must've carried the behemoth of a thing all the way upstairs by herself — How the hell had she even managed that?

“Eddie, would you mind giving her a hand with that while I clear a spot for it over here?” You delegate gleefully as you flutter back into the living room to do just that.

You rush to the console table against the far wall and quickly begin shuffling things around to make space for your new possession, stacking books and knickknacks and sliding the clunky record player as close to the edge as you can manage.

“Oh, uh..”

Eddie smacks his lips once, eyes dropping from you to the gargantuan fucking wet patch stretched across his thigh. While he's reluctant to dig his own grave, he fears he has no other choice.

“-Well.. To that 'm gonna have'ta say..”

He swallows and gives a nod to himself in resolve, a burst of air pushing past his nose as he snatches his jacket from the floor beside the couch and uses it to shield the focal point of his embarrassment, avoiding looking back toward Robin completely.

“Shit, uh.. Nope. No, sorry."

Your movements falter at his response, an amused little smile tugging at the corners of your eyes as you regard him, “No?”

You laugh, like you're waiting for Eddie to clue you in on the joke.

Of fucking course Eddie had opted to wear a pair of light wash Levis for your date tonight instead of black. Because now? There is no way in hell you and Robin won't see the evidence of his predicament the moment it's no longer hidden behind his leather jacket.

If you see the way he'd shot off in his pants like a horny teenager from nothing but a little bit of kissing, Eddie is certain he'll never get a second date — Not to mention the constant ribbing he'd be destined to get for the rest of his Goddamned life from everyone else.

There's no way that Buckley won’t tell Harrington — with the weird and questionably platonic friendship the two of them had fallen into at some point around the time they'd graduated high school. And Harrington will, of course, inevitably spill the beans to Dustin. And then Dustin's loud mouth would manage to somehow tell absolutely everybody else in Eddie's life.

He is so fucked.

“Yeah, sorry, I gotta bounce, actually-” Eddie fights back a cringe, bounce-? What the fuck is he even saying? “I, uh, I forgot I have a.. A thing.”

He can't quite hold back a wince then, at the sound of his own excuse in his ears. He's usually a lot better on his toes than this, but he's fucking floundering all of a sudden.

It's because of you — it has to be because of you. You and your pretty eyes that are slowly narrowing in confusion and maybe a little bit of hurt. You and your angelic little voice, pushing out with a soft, “Oh.”

But then you're nodding, a weak smile pasting on your lips to cover that flash of sadness he'd seen. You tell Robin you'll be back to help her in a moment and walk Eddie to the door, arms brushing as your gaze remains focussed on the scuffed floorboards.

You're being sweet, because of course you are. You thank him for a wonderful date, tell him you'll call him, even lean in to press a delicate little kiss to his cheek that Eddie definitely doesn't feel like he deserves.

When the door closes behind him, it sends a rush of air hurtling toward Eddie smelling distinctly of you. Like your perfume, and the spice of the candle sitting on your kitchen counter, and the sweetness of your shampoo. The scent makes Eddie's head swim with regret and his cock twitch weakly in his pants.

Yeah, he's definitely fucked.

#why yes i did end this in an unnecessarily ambiguous and slightly angsty way that leaves things open for a potential part two 😁#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #stranger things smut #*

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ugh-yoongi · 3 months ago

Text

ex-conomics | csc

you supported seungcheol through years of being an aspiring athlete, and all you got to show for it was your undergraduate degree and an awkward, stuttered apology when he dumped you to go semi-pro. now he’s back after an injury derailed his career, and there’s only one problem: you’re the only one available to tutor him. you - 0; the universe - 1. talk about no return on investment.

⚽ pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader ⚽ genre: exes to (lite) enemies to lovers; university au; angst, fluff ⚽ rating: while there is nothing explicit in this fic, there are two brief references to smut. while i can't stop anyone from reading this, i would prefer minors do not interact with this or any of my work. ⚽ warnings: cheol is some degree of famous, reader is a grad student/TA, mentions of an injury and coping with the aftermath of it, lots of economics talk that even i do not understand, swearing, one mention of alcohol, some misplaced jealousy, rom-com tropes, dino is kind of a loser but we love him anyway. probably a lot of other things i missed, but this is actually pretty tame for a fic of this length. ⚽ word count: 13.4k ⚽ thank you: a lot of people looked this over for me in the process and i'm sure i will forget some of them so if i do i'm sorry: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, @highvern, and @haologram, who also gave me some wonderful ideas for the vlogs. thank you to MIT for opencourseware existing. i took microeconomics and dropped it, so i couldn't have done this without you. everyone in the discord server for helping me along the way and keeping me motivated. ⚽ author's note: i haven't posted a fic in nearly seven months, so i think it goes without saying that there are parts of this i like and a lot more i'm not 100% happy with. i'd love if this was more fleshed out and 10k longer, but i was able to write anything at all so it's good enough. this was written for the back to school with seventeen collab, hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you both for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories! everyone worked so hard and this collab was a ton of fun to participate in. <3

You look down at the paper. Back up at who handed it to you. Down at the paper again.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

The poor freshman kid laughs, all nerves, and even though the sound is grating, you remember what it’s like to be forced into work study. How far away graduate school seemed; how large your professors loomed over you with all their power and knowledge and credentials; how you constantly felt like the dumbest person in nearly every room you walked into for four straight years.

“Um—”

You sigh, just barely resisting the urge to slam your head onto your desk. “I—it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Your words do little to ease Freshman’s nerves. He’s still hunched over in the doorway of your office, wringing his hands as he shifts his weight back and forth, in for a lifetime of body pain with the way he’s squaring his shoulders. “You’re sure about this, though? Like, I’m really not being set up?”

“I don’t think so?” he offers, slowly starting to turn green right before your eyes. “Dr. Lee ga-gave me the paperwork himself, I don’t think he would’ve messed it up? Oh no, did I mess it up? Should I go back to Student Services and conf—”

Good god, this kid’s anxiety is gonna stink up your office for weeks. “No need!” you interject. “I’ll just…” Sign it, you want to say, but the longer you stare at the sheet of paper the quicker you’re losing your resolve.

TUTORING REQUEST FORM Student Name: Choi Seungcheol Degree: Undergraduate Major: Business Course: ECON04101 Introduction to Microeconomics Instructor: Lee Yeonseok, PhD. Recommended Tutoring: High (3-4 hours per week)

You curse under your breath. Of the two names on the paper, Dr. Lee’s does not come as a surprise. He’s a notorious hard-ass with an infamous attrition rate—most students don’t last more than a week in any of his classes—but he’s also the sole reason you were able to pay for someof your grad school tuition out of pocket with all the tutoring money you made.

That, however, was two years ago.

“Does he know I don’t tutor anymore?” Stupid question. The kid stares blankly back at you, as if to say I don’t know any more than the people in Student Services, let alone Dr. Lee. It is literally my first year here. “I’m Dr. Ahn’s TA this year. I’ve got my hands full with her bullsh… stuff—”

Immediately, you know you’ve said something wrong, because the kid’s eyes light up, all that previous anxiety disappearing like smoke. “Wait, the same Dr. Ahn that teaches the crypto course?”

“No, that one died,” you say quickly. Kid deflates. “Anyway, I don’t really tutor anymore, especially for econ. As you can see”—you gesture vaguely around the cramped four walls of your office—“they’ve upgraded me. They even put my name on a little placard by the door! Go look! They spelled it wrong! If that doesn’t sum up this university I don’t know what does.”

You heave another sigh. Try to school your face and tone into something that exudes professionalism and finality. “Look, I’m sorry I can’t help you. I tutored Dr. Lee’s students for, like, three years in undergrad so I’m sure they just… forgot that wasn’t my actual job here. Who’s in charge of tutoring these days? I’ll shoot them an email and explain all this.”

Freshman gives you a name, and it takes less than a second to find them in the employee directory. You expect that to be the end of it, but he’s still taking up space in your doorway. You quirk an eyebrow. “Yes?”

The hand-wringing returns, along with an embarrassed flush that disappears beneath the neckline of his school-branded sweatshirt. “I just—um. Maybe you could, uh. Send that now? Before I get back there?”

You blink. “Don’t you have to go all the way back across campus? How slow do you think I type?” He shrugs, and you give up on the idea of getting rid of him. “Fine. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Lee Chan. I’m a sophomore. Do you know that guy?”

“Oh. I thought for sure you were a freshman, but you’re gonna need to be more specific, Lee Chan, Sophomore.”

“The guy they want you to tutor.” You freeze. The guy they want you to tutor is—“Choi Seungcheol,” Chan tacks on, and, yeah, you know—knew, you correct yourself—someone with that name, once upon a time.

But there are a lot of Chois and a lot of Seungcheols. It’s been years since you’ve spoken to the Seungcheol you knew, and that was when he’d broken up with you to—“I heard he’s a football player? Well, used to be, I guess. The girls in the office were freaking out so I guess he’s pretty famous, but I don’t know anything about sports, do you? They said they have photocards of him. I thought they only did that for idols.”

You think about being kids together in Daegu. Think about the exasperated looks you’d share when your parents would drag the two of you to festivals: Palgongsan in the autumn, Biseulsan in the spring; transformation and rebirth. Think about being eight years old and watching your father cram into the small space of the Chois’ living room, standing around the TV with Seungcheol’s dad, shouting at Park Jonghwan. Daegu FC made the FA Cup quarterfinals that year, and you think, of everything, that’s what you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

You think about falling in love slowly. Sixteen and clueless, the pair of you were. Didn’t really know any different, just that you’d look at him and feel butterflies. That you’d hold hands in secret. Text beneath the dinner table. That you’d watch him on the football pitch and be consumed by pride. That the future felt impossibly far away, that life would never catch up to the two of you.

You think about all the football jargon you didn’t understand—the academies, the teams, the implications. You think about, I’m thinking about trying out for the FC Seoul U-18, I just don’t think there’s much more I can do here in Daegu. You think about replying, Oh, I applied to university there.

You remember thinking it must’ve been fate, how easy that had worked out. How easy that first hurdle had been overcome.

You think about how fast everything happened. The try-out, the acceptance, the explosion. Remember being unable to go anywhere those first few months without seeing Seungcheol’s face, touted as the next big thing. Think about applying for scholarships when he was applying for international visas. Think about studying for midterms when Seungcheol was studying English for interviews.

You think about the last few weeks of your relationship, when it felt like you were desperately trying to cling to ghosts. Think about how Seoul had once felt endlessly big, both in opportunity and size, and how it now felt suffocating. You think about, So you’re just giving up? Is that what you’re saying? Think about, I don’t know what else to do. It doesn’t feel fair to you.

You think about all the places you’ve watched him. On countless football pitches; shy glances in school hallways; in the passenger seat, wracked with nerves on the drive to Seoul; poised above you in bed, hairline dotted with sweat as he rolled his hips, telling you how much he loved you.

You think about watching him walk out the door, and how you never watched him again.

So you fire off your email, concise and to the point about why you can’t tutor Choi Seungcheol in Introduction to Microeconomics, and turn to Lee Chan, Sophomore.

“No,” you finally answer. “Never heard of him.”

For all intents and purposes, your rejection should’ve been the end of it.

A few days go by. You hold office hours, attend lectures, work on your thesis when you have both the time and the energy. Try to ignore the feeling of bees beneath your skin, anxiety needling each time you check your email. You were well within your right to decline the tutoring request, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. That someone somehow knows who Seungcheol was to you and will pull you up on it. That those girls who’d gushed about him to Chan are somewhere laughing at your expense.

But you don’t hear anything at all about it… until you do.

Sunday evening. You haven’t moved from your couch in hours, some variety show playing in the background, barely audible over your keyboard clacking. Much to your detriment, you don’t write many papers these days, so you’re out of practice. Feels like you haven’t done anything besides formulas in years, all of your academic knowledge reduced to fucking math, so you’re about ready to toss your laptop out the window long before the email even comes through.

You see, From: Lee Yeonseok. You see, Subject: Choi Seungcheol - Tutoring.

Your stomach plummets to the floor.

You scan the body quickly. You see the words personal favor… friend of his father… urgent matter… and your hands start shaking. Whether it’s from the sheer audacity of this man or anxiety, you aren’t sure, but it’s not like it matters. There aren’t a whole lot of people on campus brave or dumb enough to go up against him twice.

“Motherfucker,” you spit, bitter the only taste in your mouth.

Where did you go wrong to wind up here? You’d followed the script: got the grades, passed the exams, received half of the required education for the Respectable Career, helped a few others along the way chase dreams that may or may not have been their own. You’d fallen in love. Only had a broken heart to show for it, but that’d been in the script, too: The First Love, followed by The First Heartbreak.

The split from Seungcheol was supposed to have been the end of that chapter. You’d planned on never seeing him again, and you never would have, had it been up to you. Apparently the universe has other plans, participation required.

“Did you spill onion dip on the rug again?” You startle, sending your laptop flying. Kaori, your roommate, is perched halfway in between the living room and the kitchen like a cryptid, clearly not expecting your reaction. “Oh. Were you watching porn?”

Face burning, you fetch your laptop from the floor. “In a common area? Kaori, please, I have far more decorum than that.”

She snorts, resuming her trek to the fridge. “See, that’s what I thought, but then I walked out here and you threw your laptop so fast it was like watching my ex get caught watching furry porn all over again.” She pries the lid off a large container of yogurt. “You think this is still good?”

“Dunno. What’s it smell like?”

She sniffs it and pulls it back to check the label. “Vanilla, I think, which is concerning because it’s supposed to be strawberry.”

You shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen, you get extra”—you pause, trying to remember the correct order of things, before giving up entirely—“...biotics?”

“Mm, so close. Care if I just eat this with a spoon?”

Nose scrunched, you wave her off. “Couldn’t pay me to eat yogurt on a good day, let alone if it’s expired. All yours, babe.”

Spoon in hand and a pleased smile on her face, Kaori collapses onto the couch beside you. You try to return your attention to your paper, try to find your momentum again, and it works for all of ten minutes before you’re groaning and slamming the top closed.

You don’t even need to look over to know Kaori’s staring. “What’s up with you?” she asks. Before she can answer: “Wait, is this serious? Because I can’t have a serious conversation in this t-shirt.” You steal a glance sideways. Ask Me About My Hemorrhoid! it says, and you exhale loudly. “Don’t breathe at me, I lost a bet.”

“And continued wearing it?”

She jokingly rolls her eyes. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.” Nudges you with her foot. “C’mon, spill.”

Kaori doesn’t know about you and Seungcheol. Most people don’t, aside from a few old classmates from Daegu who found you on social media and tried befriending you once he started making a name for himself in Seoul. After that, it was just easier to keep things private while you were together. New friends knew you were seeing someone but not their name or how long you’d been together. Any curiosity surrounding why the Choi Seungcheol was following you on Insta had been waved away easily. Our parents are friends, we grew up together. Then you broke up, and there wasn’t any evidence to delete, and he wasn’t following you on Instagram anymore, and it was easier that way.

So, yeah—even though you hadn’t met her until years later, Kaori knows you have an ex. She knows you’ve had a few flings and situationships in the time since, too, and it’s why she’s none the wiser when you ask, “It’s nothing, really. Just—do you follow football at all?”

“Nah, not really. The new guy’s pretty into it and keeps trying to get me to watch the games with him, but it’s so fucking boring? I dunno, I can’t get into it. Not in real life, anyway—I binged all of Captain Tsubasa in an embarrassingly short amount of time, though. Why?”

“Student Services asked me to tutor someone the other day and I had to turn it down. I just don’t have the time, you know? This semester’s already killer, and Dr. Ahn’s been riding my ass nonstop about grades. Turns out it’s some football player, so Dr. Lee emailed me asking me to do it as a personal favor, which means, on top of all the other shit I have to do, I’m now tutoring some football player four hours a week in Microeconomics.”

Her face distorts. “God, that guy’s such a prick. Like wow, you’re good at the economy! Good for you! Who cares! Why don’t you go balance the national debt or something instead of torturing university freshmen!”

You also wrongly assume that’s the last you’ll hear of it from Kaori.

Two days later, after Student Services replies to your email with the days and times you’ll be tutoring Seungcheol, she materializes in the living room to harass you.

“You didn’t tell me your football player was Choi Seungcheol.”

The panic is instant. You know how she means it, but it’s not how your body interprets it. All of a sudden it feels like an interrogation, an accusation, and a whopping serving of guilt takes up residence in the middle of your chest for not being entirely honest.

“Explains this weird text Ken sent me.”

She slides her phone over to you, open to her text thread with her current flavor of the week. Beneath an article about Seungcheol enrolling in classes at your school:

doesn’t ur roomie TA there Why are you calling her “ur roomie” like you don’t know her name?? Rude. Also yes. ask her to get me an autograph No babe pls he was my fav player before he got injured No 🙄 fine. can i come over later? Starting to think you’re using me for my roommate. Get your own job 🙄

You hand her phone back. “I didn’t think you’d know who Choi Seungcheol even is.” It’s the best you can do, even though it just digs you a deeper grave. “You said you’re not into football.”

“I’m not, but unfortunately I am into that stupid man.” She sighs, wistful and longing. “Babe, you have to understand. His dick is so big.”

You hadn’t wanted to stay in Seoul for your graduate degree, let alone the same university you’d gone to for undergrad.

You’d applied to schools all over—Japan, Europe, even a few in the States. Romanticized the hell out of NYU, went window shopping for an overpriced apartment, picked a favorite pizzeria based on nothing but vibes and online reviews. In those few months after graduation, there wasn’t a whole lot tying you to Seoul. Your and Seungcheol’s relationship had been old history by then, your parents split. Your dad stayed in your childhood home and your mother moved a few hours closer to her sister. They’d waited until your brother was old enough to be out of the house.

And it’d just been… a lot. Overwhelming. Some days you could barely shower or feed yourself, let alone move halfway across the world, so you’d stayed in the familiar and tried not to let it feel like failure.

But the good thing about familiarity is you learn its tricks, figure out the hiding spots. Early on, your first or second week of grad school, you laid claim to a study room on a floor of the library everyone else ignored. You write notes on the whiteboard with faded blue markers that are still there days later. The chair on the opposite side of the table is always exactly where you left it, the space between it and the table enough to only accommodate you. Sometimes you leave books—old paperbacks littered with notes in your writing—or papers, just to see if they move.

They never do.

And all of this is why it feels like a punch to the gut when that sanctity is tainted. When you’re halfway through a stack of Dr. Ahn’s exams and the doorknob rattles behind you. When you don’t even need to turn around to know who it is, because he still sounds the same, still has that overwhelming presence. You’ve always sensed him before you felt him.

“There you are,” Dr. Lee says, ambling into the room before you can protest. He, too, is overwhelming, just in different ways. Immaculate posture that anchors his slight frame that’s always dressed impeccably and expensively. Wears a watch that’s triple your tuition. Shoes polished so bright they’re nearly blinding. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

This time it is an accusation.

Well, you found me, you want to say, but just knowing Seungcheol is behind him, lingering in that half-study room, half-hallway space, is enough to keep you quiet. Like if you speak you’ll summon him closer and you’ll no longer be able to pretend this is nothing more than a nightmare.

You plaster on a polite smile. Say, “Ah, here I am, kyosu-nim,” and put all your energy into trying to glue Seungcheol to the floor with your mind.

Which is fruitless, because Dr. Lee moves further into the room. Gestures for Seungcheol to follow him with an impatient huff, and the study room is small, sure, and with three people it feels cramped, but that’s not the reason it feels like all the air’s been sucked out of the room.

Seungcheol looks… different. He looks as anxious as you feel, and he sticks close to the wall like he’s trying to disappear. Dr. Lee introduces him with grave importance, unaware of your history, and the forced smile he offers you almost looks embarrassed.

You know Dr. Lee is still hammering away, probably giving you a stern talking-to for rejecting his request the first time, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Seungcheol. Feels like the world around you has reduced to a pinhead, all hyperfocus; feels like your lungs are sucking in stale air one at a time.

“...his father is a very good friend of mine, so I expect…”

You expected to feel nothing. Seungcheol had left to chase his dream—one you’d always been so supportive of that it sometimes felt like your dream, too—and, perhaps naively, you thought the distance and the years would’ve been enough. You expected your heart to have hardened. You expected all those nights you spent crying to hit you at full force. You expected anger, hurt—indifference, at the very least.

“...as many hours per week as you both can manage…”

But you should’ve known better. Should’ve expected the butterflies, the way your palms grow clammy, the way your heart rate spikes. Should’ve expected everything to feel upside-down. You should’ve expected to look at Seungcheol and feel sixteen and in love all over again.

“...you are responsible for his academic progress…”

And that simply will not do. You’ve spent the last few years pulling yourself out of that hole, clawing your way back to something resembling normal. You’ve purged the thought of him from your mind—let his scent fade from your sheets, an old sweatshirt he’d left behind; forgot the way his lips felt against every inch of your skin; forgot the way his entire being lit up when he laughed; forgot the safety he encompassed, the way he whispered all those sweet nothings.

You cannot go there again.

So you roll your shoulders back, smile politely. Say, “Ah, kyosu-nim, Choi Seungcheol-ssi seems very intelligent, I’m sure he is capable of being responsible for his own academic standing, don’t you think?”

Dr. Lee cannot disagree without all but calling Seungcheol an idiot, so he hovers before you in shocked silence. Makes a show of huffing and checking his watch, like he’s all of a sudden remembered he’s late for something and being inconvenienced by this conversation he started, and then he’s halfway out of the library with a terse, “Discuss and figure this out amongst yourselves,” thrown over his shoulder.

You have an entire dramatic exit planned in your head. Gather your things, fake a phone call that makes you sound authoritative and important, and brush past Seungcheol wearing your nicest perfume as if all of this is so far beneath you you can’t even bring yourself to care about it.

Of course, you actually have to brush by him for any of that to happen, and since you’ve already decided you will not go there again, you quickly scribble your email address onto a piece of paper and slide it across the table at Seungcheol, who has steadfastly remained planted just outside the door. “Here’s my email. I don’t have time to discuss this right now.” Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow. You start throwing things into your bag haphazardly. You know you look frantic and affected, but there’s not much you can do about that. “What? Send me a copy of your syllabus and what you want to prioritize. It’ll be easier to get through this if we have a plan instead of winging it.”

He seems to catch on to your distaste because he mirrors it. Scoffs as he rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, no use spending more time together than we have to,” and if you hadn’t gone years without speaking, you would’ve seen right through it.

But you did, so it stings all the same.

As it typically does, the planet keeps spinning after your run-in with Seungcheol.

You grade Dr. Ahn’s coursework. Try running off your anxiety at the gym, even though it’s pretty good at keeping pace with you these days. You meet Kaori’s maybe-boyfriend sneaking out of your apartment early in the morning and he has the good sense not to mention your ex, but you chalk that up to the mess of hickeys covering his neck and not any sense of social decorum.

Other people’s embarrassment saves you a ton of your own, you’ve come to learn.

Throughout all of this, Seungcheol only emails you once to send you his course syllabus. Doesn’t mention tutoring or provide you with his schedule or ask for yours, so when you’re sitting in a bar with your friends, three or four drinks deep and feeling a little petty, you forward him the original tutoring request and make sure to bold, underline, and highlight the “Recommended Tutoring: High” part for good measure.

He doesn’t take your bait—electronically, at least—but he does show up to your office hours the following Tuesday.

Bag tossed onto the floor, he flops unceremoniously into the chair across from you and says, in lieu of a greeting, “They spelled your name wrong. On the door thing.”

“I know,” you reply, your smile polite and terse. Incredible how he has the ability to raise your blood pressure in milliseconds. “What can I help you with?”

“Depends. How long do you have?”

“Well, considering you’ve shown up to my office hours on time, I’m assuming you already know I’m here every Tuesday and Thursday from four to six. So”—you glance at the clock above the door—“assuming no one comes by who needs my help more than you do, you have approximately one hour and fifty-eight minutes.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment as he takes you in. His stare is weighted; it makes you feel a little green around the edges. Clinical and sharp, so far removed from the way he used to look at you. You clear your throat. “I looked over your syllabus. The good news is there’s only a midterm and a final and the rest is problem sets. The bad news is there’s only a midterm and a final so they’re weighted quite heavily. You really need to know this stuff inside-out to have any hope of passing.”

“That’s why you’re here, right? Dr. Lee specifically requested you.”

You huff a breath through your nose. “I’m here as supplemental help. I can’t take your exams or do your readings for you. What else are you taking this semester?”

He sighs, sinking further into the chair, very much playing the part of the heir who has no interest in any of this. Which… is unlike him, you think, if you’re even allowed to. The Seungcheol you knew years ago took everything so seriously. Never clipped corners or took shortcuts. Anyone else would think him a spoiled, petulant child. “Business Accounting and International Trade.”

“Could be worse,” you note. “At least those three courses are tangentially related.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t taken a fucking math class in years.”

You return it. “You remember how to add and subtract, don’t you?”

“I ruptured my ACL, not my…” He trails off, looking a little embarrassed that he can’t name a part of the—“Brain.”

Whatever you were going to quip back with dies on your tongue. It's the first time Seungcheol has broached the topic of his injury—the first you’re hearing of it at all, actually—and he says it like it’s a joke, like it’s not a thing at all, but the pain is all over his face. The bitterness of the situation he’s found himself in. The unfairness of it all.

And there are so many questions you want to ask that aren’t your place: if it’s fixable, if he’ll ever play again, how he’s coping. But you don’t really need to—you can’t imagine how you’d feel if someone suddenly pulled the rug out from under you. If everything contained within the four walls of your office suddenly disappeared.

Not that the man sitting across from you hadn’t already done that, but.

“Right,” you continue, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You know Seungcheol—know he wouldn’t want you prodding, sticking your fingers in that particular wound. “I want you to take a look at this,” you say, handing over a printout you have saved from your undergrad tutoring days. “Tell me what looks familiar, what doesn’t; what does and doesn’t make sense.”

He looks down at the paper. Back up at you. Down at the paper again. “What the fuck is this?”

“I—what? Cheol, it’s my old notes on recitation. Surely you’ve already covered this—the syllabus says this is week one stuff.” He looks down at the paper again, and it’s so familiar, watching the life drain entirely from someone’s eyes.

You barely resist the urge to slam your face onto your desk a second time.

You meet Seungcheol at the sports center for your next tutoring session.

He likes the humidity and the smell of the chlorine by the pool. He also likes that it’s not the football pitch, so the two of you sit in the bleachers there and go over his lecture notes. Much to your surprise, Seungcheol talks a mile a minute. Has stars in his eyes when he says he finally understands elastic demand curves, supply shock; tells you he spent a whole hour making flashcards.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so excited since your tutoring began—the first glimmer of hope you’ve felt since Dr. Lee cornered you in your library hideaway. None of this surprises you. Seungcheol has always been smart, even when football was his primary (and sometimes only) focus. He has more determination and grit than anyone you’ve ever met, so you’re not surprised he’s doing well, excelling, but you are surprised—

“Can I ask you something?” Seungcheol shrugs, shoves half a protein bar in his mouth and swallows without chewing. “Why are you… uh. Here?”

“At this university?”

“Not exactly. I mean, I am wondering about that, but I guess… why business?”

Seungcheol hums. Tucks his good knee to his chest and stares down at the pool. No one’s using it, and truthfully the two of you probably aren’t even allowed to be here, but you understand why he likes it. It’s nowhere near as secluded as the library and definitely not as air conditioned, but it is peaceful. Calm. The water laps against the coping in quiet, small waves.

“Ah, I don’t know. You know how it goes.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Never, in all the years you’ve known him, has Seungcheol done anything he didn’t want to do. All that grit and determination. “What about your father, then? Dr. Lee mentioned this was a favor to him. He’s a pretty important person to have in your Rolodex of favors.”

Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see what this is: Seungcheol’s father has new money; worked from the bottom up, made some smart investment decisions that finally panned out after Seungcheol left for Seoul. Started doing his own thing, made a name for himself. Last you’d heard from your mother, Seungcheol’s brother was second-in-command. Hell, even your own brother did an internship there.

So you know what this is: a father helping his son after his dream was shattered, life turned upside-down. You can’t blame him, even if you’ve heard the whispers from all the way across campus. That Seungcheol is washed up now, trying to nepo his way into his father’s company because of it; that all he knows is sports and he should’ve stuck to that, what does he know about business, why is he the one Dr. Lee went out of his way to help.

Doesn’t stop any of them from smiling at him, though; doesn’t stop them from asking for autographs or selfies.

But you also know this isn’t something Seungcheol seems willing to discuss, so you crack a joke—“I mean, business. God, who’d wanna go into that?”—and go back to what he was willing to talk about.

You’ve never hated elastic demand curves so much in your life.

Deep in the throes of tutoring—when you can’t tell if it’s week two or week twelve—you make it back to your apartment just before ten, head pounding.

The door flies open just as you’re about to punch in the code, and there stands Ken, looking far more put-off than you’ve ever seen him. Looks defeated, if you’re being honest, like someone mopped up all his emotions and wrung them out like dirty dishwater.

“Oh, hi,” you say hesitantly. The man in front of you seems too much like a caged animal to let your guard down. “Everything okay?”

He aborts a nod halfway. Mutters an apology as he brushes by you and stalks down the hall, disappearing around the corner to the elevators. Usually he’s a talker—you haven’t been able to avoid a Seungcheol-related conversation in weeks—so you’re a little stunned. Stand there stupidly for a while, and that’s where Kaori finds you a moment later.

“You gonna stand out here all night, or…?”

“Oh—yeah, right.”

You follow her inside. Toe off your shoes and put them in the rack. Focus on the sound of the kettle whistling instead of the overbearing tension in the room. Drop your bag off in your room, throw on a sweatshirt three sizes too big and a comfy pair of socks. Rummage through the fridge for leftovers, contemplate what mindless show you’ll watch as you eat, and you do not, under any circumstances, ask Kaori what happened.

You don’t have to. You knew what this was going to be the first time Ken spent the night—the way he looked mortified to be meeting you in the shared kitchen at seven a.m., wearing a look that begged you not to tell your roommate he was sneaking out.

I, uh, have an early class, he’d said. You know how it is.

Maybe you should’ve called him on it then. Issued a warning-but-not-really. She’ll get attached if you don’t tell her. She should know it’s different for you, if it is.

But you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t your place. Kaori wouldn’t want you in her business like that, so you stayed quiet, just nodded before watching him slip his shoes on and close the door behind him so quietly you wouldn’t have known he left at all if you hadn’t been looking. Gone, just like a ghost.

So, yeah, you know exactly why your roommate looks haunted.

“I’m a few episodes behind on this if you want to watch with me,” you offer, pointing at the television with the remote. It’s a lie—you’ve never watched this show a day in your life, which Kaori seems to know—but she contemplates it nonetheless. “Also, my mom mailed us some cookies. I think they’re in the fridge.”

“Why are there cookies in the fridge?”

You huff a laugh. “They were outside the door this morning before I left for campus. I don’t know—just saw who the package was from and was like, oh, this must go in the fridge.”

She nods. Grabs the container and joins you on the couch. Sticks her feet beneath your butt and doesn’t mention a thing.

The closest she comes is a few days later. Catches you right before you head out to campus and asks how tutoring is going.

“Not bad, actually.”

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes when she says, “That’s good. I’m glad things are going well for you two.”

Lee Chan, Sophomore makes his unexpected return at your office hours on an unsuspecting Tuesday.

“Can I help you?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just helps himself to the seat across from you. “Maybe,” comes his cryptic retort. “I was thinking about signing up for that crypto course next semester.”

You narrow your eyes. “No, you weren’t.”

He sighs. Looks a little panicked, like he can’t believe that didn’t work. “You’re right, you’re right. I, um—I wanted to come say thank you.” He pauses. “You know, for that… email you sent.”

You blink. “No, you didn’t.”

Lee Chan, Sophomore cracks immediately. Thunks his head on your desk and lets loose a pained sound. It nearly sounds like he’s wailing when he says, “I’m sorry! They put me up to it!”

What you’re able to piece together is this: Lee Chan, Sophomore has become a bit of a celebrity in the Student Services department ever since he met you, Choi Seungcheol’s tutor. And, like any smart, previously unpopular university student would do, he took advantage of it. Might’ve stretched the truth a little to make it sound like he knew more than he did, so now here he is, angling for information the girls with the photocards may or may not have paid him to get.

“They want to know about his girlfriend.”

“His what?”

What you’re able to piece together is also this: the Photocard Girls are certain Seungcheol is dating someone, based on little more than vibes. You suspect these vibes are their three degrees of separation, considering there was an abnormal amount of Change of Major files formed after his enrollment, but you tell Lee Chan that you don’t know anything and, even if you did, you wouldn’t put his business out there like that.

But some part of you still has this inexplicable urge to protect Seungcheol, so you match their offer with interest and tell him to say there’s nothing to report—not that you didn’t know, not that he couldn’t get anything out of you. Seungcheol isn’t dating anyone.

You don’t know if it’s true, but you figure that if it isn’t, he still deserves privacy.

Which is a notion you have trouble explaining a few hours later, when Seungcheol strolls into your office with a grease-stained paper bag full of cheese coin bread, offering one to you with a proud smile that drops slowly when you just stare in return.

“What’s wrong?”

Your mouth opens, closes, opens again. Nothing comes out, even though it should be simple. Some sophomore kid was just in here angling for information or the Student Services department is taking bets on whether or not you have a girlfriend would both suffice, but you cannot bring yourself to say the words.

What you settle on is, “Sorry, I just… had an interesting meeting before you got here.”

“Oh. Are you okay?”

You sigh. Tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It was about you, actually.”

Seungcheol chokes, starts stuttering over words you can’t make sense of. Says, “Me? Why? I passed my last exam—I mean, barely, but I still passed. And that wasn’t your fault! I didn’t study enough! I’ve been losing my mind over my International Trade class, that shit sucks—”

“It wasn’t about your grades, Cheol.”

“Oh.” Then, slowly, a lopsided, pleased smile overtakes his face. “Haven’t heard you call me Cheol in a while.”

“Seungcheol,” you correct.

He seems to forget all about the meeting. Tries again to offer you a coin bread before he threatens to eat them all himself, so you acquiesce mostly to shut him up, say you’ll bring the extras to Kaori. For some reason, you tell him about how much she’d loved the cookies your mom sent, and the nostalgia sets him off, gets him talking again, asking if they were the yakgwa she used to make when you two were kids.

They were, but you can’t seem to tell him that, either.

Seungcheol: sorry it’s last minute - running late. can you meet me at my place instead?

Seungcheol shared a location with you

You’re halfway to replying—I don’t think that’s appropriate—before you sigh and delete it. Midterms are only a few days away and you don’t have time to argue over where your tutoring sessions will be, so if Seungcheol wants to meet at his apartment that’s where you’ll meet him.

You read over the midterm notes on the train. Once, twice, and then a hundred more times until they’re nearly memorized, all so you can ignore the voice in the back of your head saying what a bad idea this is. That you have no business being on your way to your ex’s swanky part of town or integrating yourself into his life beyond tutoring at all. You shouldn’t know where he lives. Maybe you shouldn’t even have his phone number or answer his texts.

Not that there’s much you can do about it now, two stops away.

Seungcheol greets you warmly, if not a little rushed. Apologizes for the mess once you step inside, although it’s less “mess” and more “haven’t finished unpacking,” but there’s enough clear space to study at the dining table, so that’s where you set up, determined to keep things professional.

“Sorry again about this,” Seungcheol says, placing a can of cola in front of you as he takes the seat across. “I had to meet with my father and lost track of time, I guess.”

“Oh. How’s he doing?”

Seungcheol sighs, leans further back in the chair as runs a hand through his hair. A light brown, now. “Same as he always was, I guess. Talked about the business, about my brother. Can’t get him to shut up about that stuff most of the time.”

“The business is doing good, though.” You cough, clear your throat. “My, uh. My brother interned there during undergrad. I don’t know if your father told you that.”

You don’t know why you say it, because it’s clear from the brief flicker of pain on Seungcheol’s face that he hadn’t known, that no one had told him. And it hurts you too that they felt the need to keep it a secret, to protect Seungcheol from you even in tangential ways.

“He didn’t,” he admits, “but I’m sure he was happy to see him. He was, uh—he was glad to hear you’re my tutor. Said you were always smarter than all of us boys combined.”

You laugh. Hope it sounds casual instead of strained. “Well, no need to prove him right. Come on,” you say, tossing a study guide in his direction, “let’s get to work.”

Everything is alright for a while—nearly an hour at least. He has the formulas memorized and attributed to the correct equations. He can explain supply and demand, preference and utility, but things start to fall apart around budget constraints and constrained choice.

The formulas get mixed up. He grows frustrated when he doesn’t know the answers to your questions right away. Rolls his eyes and gets a little snappy when you correct him, try to explain things differently in a way he understands. At first he’s able to temper it, collect himself before things truly start spiraling out of control, but the longer the two of you sit there the more it all unravels.

He snaps, you snap back, and you can’t figure out why. You’ve survived this long in Seungcheol’s orbit even though you never thought you’d be around him again, and perhaps it was bound to explode eventually, but…

It’s the familiarity, you realize.

You and Seungcheol aren’t friends, though you’ve been playing at it for weeks now: meeting outside of the library or your office, the personal conversations bordering on reminiscing, being in his personal space. You don’t belong here. You don’t want to be his friend—you can’t be, not for real or pretend.

“That’s not what I’m say—”

“Then explain it better,” Seungcheol fires at you, eyebrows creasing. “You’re the tutor here.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m trying, okay? All I meant was—your answer isn’t wrong, but I know Dr. Lee and he’s going to want more than that in a response.”

“Right—not good enough, like I said.”

“I’m just asking you to expand on your answer—”

“And I’m telling you that’s all I’ve got. I’m not like you, all right? I don’t have all this shit just floating around in my head all the time. I’m not smart, I barely have any idea what’s going on half the time, and you sitting here being condescending about it is doing fuck-all to help.”

You inhale sharply, taken aback at the hostility in his voice. Suggest calling it for the night, say neither of you will be productive if you keep going like this, and neither of you bother to apologize.

So much of your relationship with Seungcheol was marred by clichés.

The two of you passing notes back and forth during class. You in the bleachers of all his games, screaming along to the team chants, waving a sign around with his name on it. Not realizing you had a crush on him at all until he liked someone else and it made your stomach hurt. Childhood friends turned lovers.

Another cliché: that it’s starting to feel like that all over again.

Seungcheol sits across from you in the library, econ textbook cracked in half in front of him as he pays no attention. Keeps grabbing his phone each time it vibrates across the table. Can’t fight the smile that forces its way onto his face when he reads whatever’s there.

Stupid, you think—both to do this and to think it’d play out any other way. Seungcheol left years ago. Probably lived ten lifetimes while he was away while you were here in this exact spot doing this exact thing. Barely lived half a life, just stuck your nose in textbooks and forced your way through.

“Cheol,” you say, trying to drag his attention back to the study guide. No use. He’s typing away, presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek as he responds. “Seungcheol,” you try again.

Also fruitless.

You have no claim here, you remind yourself—not to his time, not to him. He’s only here because someone else mandated it. You’re only here because someone else mandated it, but it stings all the same. Another reminder of what used to be, of what ended regardless of what you wanted. Another reminder that the role you used to play in his life is not the role you play now. That the space you used to take up created a vacancy, and eventually it was going to be filled.

And if this was anyone other than Seungcheol, if you were more emotionally evolved when it came to him, it wouldn’t gnaw at you as much. All of this would roll off your shoulders.

But it isn’t, and you’re not.

“If you’re not going to listen, then—”

“I am listening,” he interjects, but he’s not looking at you. Not looking at his textbook or his study guide. Keeps laughing and smiling at his phone, and it’s sick how bothered you are by it. That it feels like your stomach’s been turned inside-out with jealousy; with annoyance, because you don’t want to be here anyway, don’t want to do this anymore, and you’re wasting your time on someone who doesn’t appreciate it.

Perhaps he never did.

“What are we discussing, then?”

Still not looking up: “Consumer theory.”

You laugh—more a huff of air than anything, grin sardonically out of one corner of your mouth. Seungcheol sees none of it. “Wrong,” you answer, already expecting the way he shrugs it off. “I’m gonna skip ahead a few chapters, though. Consider it a freebie for your business class.”

It must be your tone that finally grabs his attention. Cutting, precise, purposeful. Seungcheol lowers his phone, quirks an eyebrow, wonders where this is going to go. It’s clear he’s pissed you off, that you’re itching for a fight. It’s clear the years of silence are finally coming to a head.

“Let’s talk about ROI. You know what that is?” You barely give him a second. “Return on investment. A performance measure used to evaluate the efficiency of an investment or compare the efficiency of several investments. So, let’s say I make one-hundred-thousand won on a ten-thousand won investment: my ROI is 90%. Are you following?”

He nods.

“Great, now let’s try something a bit more hypothetical.” You suck in a breath. “Let’s say I invest years of my adolescence into someone. A friend at first and then something more. Let’s say I played cheerleader, supported every hope and dream he had—went to every game, cheered him on, helped him practice his English. Held his hand and talked him down when the pressure felt overwhelming, when the only thing that felt inevitable was failure. Now, let’s say all I got in return was a stuttered, awkward apology as he dumped me and walked out the door. Let’s say that guy showed up again after years of silence just to once again waste my fucking time.”

The thing about pain is it’s not linear. What hurt five, ten years ago might not hurt today, but it might tomorrow; what hurt yesterday may never hurt again. The thing about pain is it lets you stick your head in the sand until it can’t anymore, and that’s where you are now: that window of time between Seungcheol walking out the door on the assumption you’d never see him again before he bulldozed his way back into your life has been slammed closed, locked up tight.

So you don’t even notice you’re crying until the room goes deathly silent and you can hear the drip drip drip of tears on paper. Until you watch Seungcheol’s hands flex and unflex in mid-air, stuck in that liminal space, wanting to reach out but knowing he has no right to. Until your chest aches so bad you’re sure you’re either about to break into stardust or cease to exist.

Until you say, “What, Choi Seungcheol, would you say my fucking return on investment was?” and he has nothing to say at all.

Kaori invites you to a party.

Just something small to celebrate the end of midterms and a classmate’s birthday. Nothing out of control or raucous, not even the kind of thing that’d earn a second glance from campus security. I won’t even make fun of you if you leave before eleven, is how she sold it to you, in addition to a small amount of begging and bargaining and a powerful set of puppy-dog eyes.

After everything the two of you have been through, you find it hard to say no.

So here you are, nearly eleven o’clock on a Friday, a cup of cheap beer in hand. A friend of a friend of a friend is wailing into a karaoke machine and although your ears are bleeding, it does feel nice for that to be your greatest worry. You aren’t thinking about your classes or how you’ve been prioritizing everyone else’s academic success. You aren’t thinking about whatever’s going on between Kaori and Ken. You aren’t thinking about Seungcheol.

At least you aren’t, until he walks through the door.

You’re going to continue not thinking about him at all—not about the fact he’s alone or how good he looks in a simple black T-shirt that’s a little taut in the shoulders. You’re not going to think about the way the air shifts, like the universe knows he’s important and is willing to accommodate. You’re not going to think about how Kaori catches your eye across the room, recognizes him from all her internet searches, and the way she mouths oh my god he’s so beefy at you.

You’re not going to think about how guilty you feel that she doesn’t know, because if you do you’re certain it’ll take over.

You watch Seungcheol work the room; watch as he floats between conversations, as strangers fall over themselves at the sight of him. How eager everyone is to give him something and how reluctant he is to take them. You watch as he winds up in the same circle as Kaori and how she must mention you, oh, your tutor is my roommate, because there’s a question in return before he turns and meets your gaze.

You wonder why the distance between you feels more insurmountable now than ever before.

Seungcheol finds you in your office.

It’s not a Tuesday or a Thursday, far later than four to six in the evening, but he doesn’t even bother knocking before he’s barreling in, stifling your space with his bad energy.

You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks. Not since the party, if that even counts. Hasn’t bothered to reply to any of your texts or emails, and that was just fine by you, if that’s how he wanted to act, but it isn’t until he’s brooding on the other side of your desk that you realize you’re still aggrieved, too. Feels a little too familiar, him leaving you behind and in the dark.

So you don’t mean to—typically have much more professionalism than this—but when he tosses a stapled stack of papers with a barely-passing grade on your desk and says, “This is your fault,” the words come automatically and without forethought.

“Fuck off, Seungcheol.” It’s not your words that take him by surprise; more so the roll of your eyes, the accompanying huff. The impression that all of this is beneath you and nothing more than a mere annoyance. That however affected you were two weeks ago is not how affected you are anymore. “That’s what happens when you blow off your tutoring for two weeks because you’re a coward.”

He laughs, incredulous; unable to help the sound the tumbles out of his mouth. “I’m a—I’m a coward?”

“Yes,” you reply, tone giving away nothing. All he sees is feigned nonchalance despite the hurricane you feel brewing beneath the surface. “This,” you continue, pinching the corner of the paper between your fingertips and disposing of it in the trashcan beneath your desk, “is all on you, but do please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to blame me for. I’m all ears.”

You don’t miss it: the way Seungcheol’s eyes grow wide at your ‘I’m all.’ The way he thinks you’re going to punctuate that sentence with yours, and it nearly has bile rising in your throat. Makes you want to scream, rip at your hair. If the last few months have taught you anything, it’s that you are still hopelessly in love with the man across from you—the man that continues to leave before he’s left, always at your expense.

So, yeah—Seungcheol is a coward, but only when it comes to you.

But he doesn’t look much like one now, gripping so hard at the edge of your desk that his knuckles have gone white, baseball cap pulled down low enough his eyes are barely visible. He’s always been overwhelming, always carried himself with an exaggerated arrogance even when it wasn’t warranted, always took everything so seriously, and maybe that’s why you’d thought he’d treat you the same way. Take you seriously. Wouldn’t just throw it all away on a maybe thing, and that’s why it's been years and you still aren’t over it.

Maybe Seungcheol is a coward, and maybe so are you.

Because not once since he’s been back have you been able to say what you mean. Can’t seem to tell him about the anger, the hurt, the heartbreak. Played it all off as petty nonchalance because you foolishly thought that would hurt him, that you��ve been reduced to simmering ash, no hope left for a fire.

“I could never blame you for a goddamn thing,” he says, voice so deep you could drown in it.

You so desperately want to know. You don’t want to know anything at all. You want Seungcheol to explain everything to you in detail and spoil the ending, but only if it’s guaranteed to be happy. Enduring another loss like the first time—you’re not sure you can take it. Not after you two have crossed paths like this, because you’ve never quite believed in fate but you think that has to mean something. That so much time and life had transpired and you two came back together.

Today, though, it doesn’t look like you’re going to get any answers.

Seungcheol straightens, looms at full height. Digs into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out a thumb drive. Wordlessly, he hands it over, and then he’s gone just as abruptly as he’d arrived.

Again.

Kaori wants to spend the weekend moping, and you can’t come up with a good reason not to join her.

She doesn’t mention Ken once. Not when she’s sobbing over A Silent Voice and Toradora! after that. Not when she keeps glancing at her phone every couple minutes to see if she has any texts. Not when you—only halfway paying attention between grading and your own assignments—suggest ordering something for delivery, maybe that new burger place down the street you heard was good, and Kaori shuts it down so vehemently you can only assume it was Ken’s favorite place.

Kaori just cries over the man with the big dick she never expected to take so seriously, and not even your stonewalling makes her feel ashamed of it.

And there’s respectability in that kind of openness and vulnerability. At least whatever she’s feeling is honest; at least she can admit she’s sad. You think watching Kaori process her breakup might help you process yours too, years too late, so you suck in a breath and ask, “Can I tell you something or is now not a good time?”

Kaori looks over at you. Dabs a soggy tissue at her eyes. “Well, I guess it depends,” is her answer, and she doesn’t shy away from how waterlogged her voice sounds. “If you’re going to tell me you’re a Takasu and Kawashima shipper, maybe, but if it’s anything worse I’m not sure I could take it.”

“I—what? Who even are they?” She gives you a half-hearted thumbs up. You sigh in response, sink further into the couch. “It’s, uh.” Clear your throat. “Do you remember when we met sophomore year? At that party? And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything and you said, and I quote, why not, I have a sixth sense for this kind of thing and I know that guy will have a huge—”

She hides her face behind her hands. “Ew, god, yes I remember that. My dick whisperer era. How embarrassing.”

“Right. And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything because I’d just gotten out of something.”

“Not really by choice, if I remember correctly. I told you if it was quiet it should’ve been loud, and then you never talked about it again.”

You nod. “I—yeah, that sounds like something I would’ve said.” You suck in a deep breath. “Listen, this is probably gonna sound bad considering I did never talk about it again, but—”

“Hey,” Kaori says, nudging you with her foot. Meant to be comforting, somehow. “It’s okay. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, too… most of which I’m not sure you should, actually.”

A laugh forces its way out, gives you a nice reprieve from the anxiety of the conversation you’re about to have. The need to explain it all, the need for advice. Maybe it’s not her—or anyone else’s—business, but you think you’ve kept this to yourself long enough. You and Seungcheol loved each other, once, and it seems foolish that no one knows.

Maybe Kaori had been right. Maybe love should be shouted from the rooftops; exist out in the open. Maybe something hidden in the shadows can never thrive in the light, and you knew it back then, deep down, but now it seems so obvious.

You think back to a few days before the library. Think about how things didn’t feel good but they felt okay. Think about the frustrated crease between Seungcheol’s eyebrows as he stared down at his textbook and how all you’d wanted to do was smooth it. Think about how you’d rolled your lips and tried not to laugh; how you thought it’d take a miracle to help Seungcheol pass this class.

Think about: What is the difference between the short-run and the long-run from the perspective of production theory?

Think about the short-run of your and Seungcheol’s relationship—that you’d burned bright and fast, even though it’d felt like a million years. Hadn’t dared to consider the long-run because anything beyond that bubble felt impossible.

Think about: Which of the following is not a property of isoquants?

Think about the way Seungcheol’s eyes lit up when he knew the answer. That they’re always linear, he said, and you smiled at his enthusiasm, raised your hand to high-five him and dropped it when he hadn’t noticed.

You think about the explanation—isoquants can be linear when inputs are perfectly substitutable—and what those graphs look like. Downward sloping, left to right. Think about how the graphs change when the isoquants are perfect complements.

L-shaped. Less straight as the inputs become poorer substitutes.

You know what your and Seungcheol’s graph would’ve looked like back then.

So it’s easy, almost, to tell Kaori everything. You tell her about growing up in Daegu, about the smell of the azaleas at Biseulsan in the spring. You tell her about how your parents had befriended the neighbors, how they had a kid your age, that that kid was Seungcheol—yes, that Seungcheol.

She’s able to anticipate the rest from there, but you fill in the blanks of what she can’t: being sixteen and falling in love, holding hands, the clandestine notes. All those football matches and how your throat would be hoarse from cheering. How nauseous you’d felt applying to university in Seoul, how excited you were when Seungcheol said he was coming with you. That, after you arrived, it felt like you were living in fast-forward. Barely any time to breathe or adjust; no time to just be you and Seungcheol. You had to be a student, someone responsible; Seungcheol had to be a phenom.

“Could you feel it was going to happen?” Kaori asks, now sat ramrod straight, all her attention on you. “Like, did you know?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Maybe I did? It’s hard to say now, all this time later. I know things definitely felt different, like life was pulling us in opposite directions.” You laugh, bitterness coloring the edges. “You couldn’t go two blocks without seeing him on some billboard, and I was just… normal, you know? I wasn’t some rising star athlete like he was, I just went to my classes. How was I supposed to compete with something like that?”

Your roommate hums, leans back into the pillows as she stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t think you were. Maybe that’s why Seungcheol was worried—maybe he felt like you were losing your own identity feeling like you had to keep up.”

You want to push back, argue that you weren’t, that you didn’t, but the truth is that it’s possible. That the shadows created by Seungcheol’s dreams were so massive you wouldn’t be surprised if they unintentionally swallowed you up. “It still wasn’t his choice to make,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

And Kaori already knows all about your hurt, listened as you explained it all and laid everything bare. So when she says, “Sometimes that’s just how it goes, though, babe,” it doesn’t feel condescending. “We do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time. You can say now it wasn’t Seungcheol’s choice to make, because it’s been almost five years and you’ve made a life for yourself separate from him. But the—god, this is gonna sound so patronizing, I am so sorry—but you guys were so young. No one has it all figured out at that age.”

She snorts, runs a hand through her messy hair. “Shit, I’m nearly halfway to thirty and I still don’t know anything.” Adopts a frown. “What do you want now? Do you want closure? Want to try to fix things and become friends?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, biting at a hangnail. “He actually, um. The other day when he stopped by my office, he left me a USB drive? And before you ask, no I did not already look at it.”

“A USB drive? Who does this guy think he is, James Bond?” A pause. “Are you gonna look at it, though?”

You do.

Not until the silver, midnight light creeps in through your bedroom curtains and you’ve stared at the ceiling long enough; waited long enough for texts that never came, for divine intervention to, well, intervene. It never did—fair enough—so you decide to take fate by the reins. Grab your laptop, instant headache from the screen, stick the drive into the port.

It takes a second for it to load, but when it does: dozens of videos, organized by date. Vlogs, by the look of them—some from before your breakup but the majority of them from after.

You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this.

You click on the first one: a month and a half before both of you moved to Seoul. A fresh-faced Seungcheol appears on your screen, cheeks still round with adolescence. He’s in his room back in Daegu, can’t get the camera angle right. Nostalgia hits you like a ton of bricks as it pans to the side, to the wall behind his bed, and you see all his old posters. Mostly football players you couldn’t name, some girl group he used to love, a few movies. Just below them are some of the notes you’d written him in school, and they’re all you can focus on as he talks about how excited he is for the move.

The next: a few weeks after you’d started classes. By then, Seungcheol was well into the swing of things with Seoul FC. Already a big fish in a small pond, tryout offers from European teams starting to roll in. You can hear yourself in the background stressing over your first exam, wishing a generational curse upon your calculus professor. In the video, Seungcheol laughs, whispers like he’s telling the camera a secret as he talks about how nervous he is for his future. I don’t know why, he says, but it just feels like everything is about to change.

There’s a long pause between that one and the next. You understand why when you look at the date: three months after your breakup. Your hands hover uselessly above your keyboard. Whatever answers you’ve been looking for the last few years are probably in this video, but you can’t bring yourself to open it. Not right away, at least.

You click on a different one at random. Seungcheol’s somewhere in Europe, judging from the language on the signs behind him. Snow falls quietly—whenever he filmed this, it must’ve been early. No one else is around, and he cracks a joke that it’s a good thing, people would probably think he was crazy if they saw him. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going but he narrates the entire walk: points out a cafe he’s grown to love. The way to get to his practice stadium from where he’s standing. Pauses near a restaurant and laughs ruefully, shakes his head, says, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but one of my teammates set me up on a blind date here and I got stood up. You’d probably think that was funny.

(You do. It also makes your chest ache.)

One from two years ago: Seungcheol in a hotel room, clearly nervous. He raises his hand to wave at the camera and you can see the corners of his nails bitten raw. Dark circles beneath his eyes; cheekbones more pronounced than you’ve ever seen them. On the screen, Seungcheol sighs, rakes a hand through freshly-bleached hair. Sucks in a deep breath as he says, I’m so nervous. I’m so—so fucking nervous and I don’t. Fuck, I don’t know what to do. I want to call you because you always knew what to say but that’s so fucking selfish. God, we haven’t spoken in years, and it’s my—that’s my fault, I know, so I brought this all on myself. I just want to hear your voice.

Another from a week after that: the color’s returned to his face, and he’s recording from what looks like a penthouse apartment. Sleek, modern; a small white dog napping on the bed beside him. He smiles, looks like he got his teeth fixed, looks like he’s no longer carrying around the weight of the world. Talks endlessly and excitedly about some tournament. Talks so fast you can barely keep up. Talks around words tinged with languages you don’t understand.

Seungcheol wins a championship. Records a drunk vlog from the same night, hair soaked through with god-knows-what—water, champagne, you don’t know. But he looks radiant. Looks like the culmination of two decades of dreaming. He looks happy, free, at peace. He looks like the reason he let you go, why he had to go away.

You scroll to the bottom of the files. Pause at the last video, dated seven months before the term started.

“Hi,” he says, and you can immediately tell everything is all wrong. Seungcheol’s in the dark, face only visible enough to see the tears tracking on his cheeks. “This is going to be the last one of these I make. I don’t know if you, uh—I’m sure you aren’t paying attention to me—my career—anymore, but. I, um. I got hurt. Ruptured my ACL. They’re not sure I’ll…” A sob escapes him. Has you wanting to climb through the screen to hold him, thumb away his tears, tell him everything is going to be okay. “They don’t know if I’ll ever play again.”

Seungcheol no longer looks happy, free, at peace. “Maybe you’ll be happy to hear that,” he continues. “Maybe it’ll help you to know I threw away our relationship for nothing.”

Cut to black.

The sudden silence is deafening. Has you desperately clicking back to the video you’d skipped, the one from just after your breakup. Seungcheol looks the same in that one, too, like the life has been drained out of him.

I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like I’ll ever show these to you now, since I…

I’m sure I owe you an explanation. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing, I just—things have been so hard, and I’m still trying to make sense of it all. I feel like my life went from zero to a hundred before I could even blink and now I’m scrambling. I didn’t think it was fair to—to drag you through that. Me being away, moving to an entirely different continent. I have faith we could do it, I just. I don’t know, baby, I don’t…

You deserve to have your own life. Be your own person. I’m so scared that the world will never see you for who you are—so beautiful and intelligent and kind. You don’t deserve to be reduced to my partner. And if you ever see this, I know you’re gonna roll your eyes. Probably call me a mean name because I took the choice away from you, because you think I’m trying to be selfless and heroic, and you’d be right. It’s not fair, and I wish I could tell you I’m sorry.

I wish I could just… pluck out my brain and give it to you, because even if it killed me to do it, at least it makes sense to me. And I don’t—I don’t want you to think I’m not hurting. I’ve been sick to my stomach since I left. I know I’m making a mistake, I know I am, I just—how do I do what I think is right in the long-run when it’s not what I want right now, or ever?

I don’t want to get over you. I don’t want you to get over me, and that’s how you know I’m not acting selflessly, because you should. I want you to always be happy, I just… wish it was with me.

So, I’m going to keep making these. I’m going to take you along for the ride, wherever it takes us, because you should be here but I can only hope you can one day understand why you’re not. I’m so—I’m so sorry, I don’t…

I’m sorry.

I love you.

You fall asleep and dream that you were the one meant to meet him at that restaurant.

The first thing you do is make a call to your mother.

“Could you send another container of yakgwa?”

On the other end of the line, your mother tuts, motherly intuition audibly kicking into overdrive. Is probably wearing that all-knowing, sly grin she always does when you try to be coy and evasive. “What happened to the last container I sent?”

“Ah, you know Kaori loves those. They barely lasted an hour after I told her what was in there.”

She hums an acknowledgement. Sounds like she takes a sip of tea. “I remember someone else being quite fond of those cookies, too.”

“Well, they are the most popular cookies in the country, so.”

After haranguing you into admitting they’re for Seungcheol and not your roommate, your mother promises to send them quickly. A few days at most, which buys you enough time to figure out how you’re going to approach the man in question.

The vlogs have turned your entire world upside-down. Answered questions you hadn’t even known you had. Took all that anger and resentment you’d been holding onto and set it free, and now you’re just left with… a void. Want to mend things, and it makes you wonder if such a thing is even possible, if it’s too late, but you don’t let those thoughts get very far.

Instead, you let them spur you into action. Have you sitting in front of your laptop at your desk, office hours long since over, silence creeping in the more the department empties. The thrum of the airconditioning and the tick-tick-tick of the clock are all the only company you have.

You worry if it’ll show on camera, how out of sorts you feel: sweating from the nerves, dabbing at your hairline; cheeks warm to the touch. But you suck in a breath anyway, steel yourself. Look at your webcam and the daunting red circle…

And start recording.

He hadn’t gotten it at first. Not really.

There’d been a container of yakgwa outside his door with his USB drive taped to the top of it. No note—not that he needed one to know who it was from, but he wasn’t sure what it was. A goodbye? A please fuck off forever and never contact me again?

He’d just taken them inside. Ate too many of the cookies while feeling sorry for himself. Maybe had a glass or two of wine to compound the issue, and never, ever considered contacting you. Didn’t think he could bear it if you never wanted to see him again, but he just…

Well, he was drunk and alone and he missed you, and he’d rewatched all those videos he recorded a million times before when he was like this, so what was a million and one?

It’d been the same as every time before: he smiled at the happy parts, cried at all his old wounds. Wanted to reach through the screen and strangle his past self for including that part about the blind date, because he never wanted to date anyone who wasn’t you, why would he say that, felt mortified at the thought of you watching that—

And then there it was.

All the way at the bottom. A new video. One that hadn’t been recorded by him—

Hi, Cheol, you say, and that’s all it takes to reduce him to a sobbing, yearning mess. I’m not sure what to say here. I don’t really record much—sometimes for lectures when the professors are too busy, but never anything personal like this, but I watched every single one you made for me and I thought I should return the favor.

I wanted to tell you everything I’ve been up to since you left, but it hasn’t been much. I got my degree. Tutored a lot in undergrad—the same thing I’m tutoring you in now, actually. I was good at it and it felt good to have something that was mine, you know? I almost moved for grad school. Thought for a while I was going to wind up in New York, but then my parents divorced and it felt like too much, too scary, so I stayed. Kaori also stayed, so we got an apartment together. It’s not much, definitely not as nice as your place, but it’s good enough.

I don’t think I ever told you, but she was seeing a guy for a bit and he was… obsessed with you, to say the least. Thought you were the coolest person in the world. They aren’t seeing each other anymore. Ended pretty badly, but—speaking of which, maybe steer clear of Student Services for a while, too.

Sometimes it felt like failure that I wound up staying here. That I had scholarships from all these far-away, prestigious places and didn’t take advantage of them. That I gave into my fear. And now… I don’t know. Maybe there’s a reason I stayed behind. Maybe there’s a reason you ended up back here, too.

Whatever happens—I don’t want you to think I still blame you. Kaori says we do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time, and I understand now that’s what you did. Even though it hurt me, you were trying to protect me. I get it now. And I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to go to all these places you didn’t know. To have to deal with your injury, the loss of a dream.

You said in one of your videos that you just want me to be happy, and that’s all I want for you, too, whatever that looks like.

Here’s my address if you ever want to come by to talk.

I love you, too.

—and then he’d been up and out the door, feeling stone cold sober, running to the front of his building to wait for his ride.

Felt like the drive took hours. Must’ve hit every red light between his apartment and yours. Took the steps two at a time just to get to your door faster.

There’s a man already standing outside your door when he gets there. One that looks shocked to see him, stars in his eyes, and when Seungcheol says, “Oh, you must be Kaori’s ex,” he looks more like he wants the earth to swallow him whole. Embarrassed in front of his idol.

He knocks on your door and gets no response. Knocks again, harder this time, and he has to try really hard to stifle his laughter when your voice yells from the inside, “Fuck off, Kenji, I already told you she’s not here!”

“It’s me,” Seungcheol yells back.

There’s quiet again. Just enough time for it to feel like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest and follow Kaori’s ex down the hall.

Then you’re yanking the door open—slowly, so slowly, like you’re scared it’s not actually him. Your eyes are brimming with tears when they meet his own, and he doesn’t let himself think, just goes on instinct, when he grabs for you, hands on your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours.

Somehow you taste the same.

Somehow you taste like redemption.

You taste like home.

Seungcheol kisses you until the tears slow. Kisses you until the universe realigns, until he could map your mouth in the dark. Kisses you until all you’re all he knows again.

When he pulls away, you’re gripping at his sweatshirt, don’t want to let him go. He presses his forehead to yours, offers up a million more apologies, starts talking nonsense. Says he’s going to drop microeconomics, what the hell does he know, he barely has a passing grade anyway, what does it matter, he’s such an idiot—

And then you say, “You came back,” and nothing else matters.

“I always will.”

(Later on, as you’re trying to steady your breathing, slick with sweat, your thigh thrown over Seungcheol’s hip as he stares down at you, dopey smile on his face, you say, “Choi Seungcheol, don’t you dare drop that class. I have worked my ass off to get you to barely-passing.”)

if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading! i am still very new at writing for seventeen, so i hope this was acceptable. i'm now going to throw myself into the warped tour vernon fic and will hopefully not go another 7+ months without posting anything. 😭

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol angst #seungcheol au #scoups angst #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #jewel writes

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sugarlywhispers · 4 months ago

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viking!b.katsuki x fem!reader

a.n; i wanted to give viking!bakugou a try, and honestly, this is all @imaginationmess fault for feeding me fanarts of bakugou and his dragon🙃 luv you tho🤍

Viking Bakugou Katsuki who rides the biggest and most terrifying dragon that has ever existed.

A legend said that his dragon in particular had been going on for generations in his family, no one willing to risk their life to tame it. Until Katsuki’s uncle, Bakugou Kudo, did it. He had been the first in generations to ride this dragon. Yet he understood that the bond between dragon and riders was not consolidated between them.

When Katsuki was eight, the little shit escaped the hut and went towards where the nests were. Kudo almost had a heart attack when he saw the brat far off and almost there. He sprinted as fast as he could, a tragedy already displaying in his head –the kid being incinerated, turned to ashes, and his sister cutting his dick off for being a sorry ass uncle. Fuck, and he would had deserved it. Because even though he had tamed the beast, it was still very unstable to let anyone close to it; one of his own men had suffered the consequences of trying to get close, more than half his body had been burned. He was no longer part of their battles.

However, Kudo saw in first person how a dragon’s bond was created. Between his terrifying dragon and his little nephew.

It hadn’t looked much from his perspective, yet he felt the magical aura surrounding them. Katsuki laughed as he touched the dragon’s snot like it was a mer pup, happy and excited while climbing its leg with such ease until he was up on its back, right behind the head. The dragon himself helped the kid to reach the place. Kudo noticed then the beast’s eyes shining a very resplendent gold. Yep, that was definitely a bond.The kid was anything but scared, as he caressed the dragon's head, hugging it even.

Kudo smiled, shaking his head, hands over his hips as he took a deep breath, relaxing. The dragon was only letting him ride it because it knew that Katsuki was his bonded rider and Kudo was related by blood to the kid.

As years went by, the bond only became stronger and deeper. Kudo would ride it in battles, but once at home, the brat and the beast were like one. When Katsuki turned eighteen, Kudo retired from battles and settled down with a wife and kids at the village located next to that of where their family originally came from. From that day on, the brat became the dragon’s one and only owner.

Katsuki was the only human being able to control, care for and command this massive dragon, also becoming the nightmare of most villages in the world. Both, dragon and rider were vicious, deadly and feared.

You still remember the day Bakugou Katsuki landed on your lands. The bright blue sky suddenly turned dark, the huge dragon he rode clouding the sun above. Everyone knew what it meant. Destruction and chaos, the end of their peaceful lives.

The Leader of the village, your dad, didn’t waste time in trying to negotiate a truce between them.

And that truce is you.

You are forced to marry him, to leave your family, friends and life there and go with this barbaric man. You are a bit afraid he is some sort of savage. Rumors told how violent he was, how scary he looked with his scars and aggressive attitude towards everyone. Now that you have said man in front of you, you agreed with all of them.

You were expecting him to manhandle you, to treat you like another woman he picked to use for his own pleasure. Yet all you received since you stepped foot in his village, in his home, had been nothing but coldness and distance. He has kept to himself, doing his stuff and trying not to get in your way. Least to say, it has been completely awkward since the ceremony.

When you are getting ready for it, his mom enters his-your hut. She smiles, a sincere feeling in her eyes, “Being the daughter of a Leader sucks, ain’t it?”

You look down, a slight smile on your face that agrees with her but eyes filled with tears you’re holding back. “It does.”

You feel her hand on your shoulder, and the little squish she gives it in reassurance makes the knot in your throat tighter.

“My son is not a charming prince; however, I know the kind of man I raised him to be. You’re gonna be okay.”

You don’t say anything in response. You don’t even look back at her, but you think she didn’t expect it either as she walks out, leaving you alone. As you walk towards the entrance, fully knowing that once you cross it, your soon to be husband will be waiting at the end of the aisle, all you can wish is that Ms. Bakugou is right.

When the ceremony reaches its end, the old lady of his village drawing the symbols of union, love and family in your foreheads, Bakugou extends his hands for you to lay yours over his. You still haven’t looked him in the eyes, but you do what's expected for the ceremony. When your hands touch the skin of his, you can't avoid thinking how warm they feel. Big calloused, rough and strong hands surround yours, and you don't hate the feeling. On the contrary, it’s quite comforting. The old lady ties a beautifully white and gold silk ribbon around your hands, symbolizing the union of the souls.

While everyone cheers, you finally decide to raise your eyes towards him. Deep red eyes collide with yours, making a shudder run your body at their intensity. Surprisingly, it isn’t a bad feeling, but it is something you have never felt before.

A tingly feeling swirls in your stomach as you realize Bakugou Katsuki's face is getting closer and closer to yours, his intent clear. He is going to kiss you. Your first kiss. You close your eyes instinctively and his lips touch yours in a quick and short peck. Yet it feels like all the tingles in your stomach exploded, sending warmth throughout your whole body.

That has been the only close and physical interaction you have had until today.

Bakugou Katsuki decides to give you space to accommodate and get to know his village and people around.

It doesn't mean he doesn't want you. However, he never makes any sort of move towards you.

Until one day…

Bakugou got back that morning to the village after being away for almost four days with the victory of conquering another village, so you decide to bring him some of the sweet bread you have cooked as a welcome back. You have to admit, this time with him since the marriage ceremony hasn’t been bad. Civil, even. Despite his distance and cold attitude, he has never disrespected or forced you to nothing. Not even that first night as husband and wife. He didn’t even try, he simply picked one of the pillows and clothes to make a bed on the floor, closer to the entrance door, and slept there. You have been very confused. Your mum had previously told you everything of what was expected from a woman on the night of the ceremony. You expected even a fight between you two, because of course you didn’t want that to happen with a complete stranger like he was still to you.

Nevertheless, he never hovers over you. But you do feel his eyes on you whenever he’s around. He always makes some sort of sound for you to acknowledge that his presence is close. Katsuki is attentive to your reactions whenever you are both alone and doesn't even raise his voice at you. Ever.

Then again, he is his ruthless self with everyone else.

You tried looking for him around the village, but couldn't find Bakugou anywhere. So you walk towards the woods where you know the dragon's nests are, where they rest. Even though Bakugou has explicitly forbidden you to go near there, due to the danger their dragons were most of the time, even for the riders.

You are confident Katsuki will be there, so probably he will see you from a distance and you wont need to get that close. But when you arrive, you come face to face with the massive beast: Bakugou's dragon, Cweorth.

You have seen it at a distance, but having the beast up close is a completely different experience. Its whole body is red, with golden piercing eyes that feel very much like Bakugou’s itself. Its wings are huge as they spread in a stretching movement up high, almost taller than the big trees that surround the woods. You can even see some flare of gold in its scale that actually looks mesmerizing. Majestic.

Your basket falls to the floor in shock when the beast finally looks down at your small, minuscule being. It watches you intently, with a scowl on its face –like beast, like owner. But far away from feeling scared by it, you feel intrigued. You feel enamored even as you stand there, looking at such majestic creature.

Bakugou is actually several meters away, taking a bath in the lake close to the nests, cleaning all the blood and dirt off his body before going to the hut he shares with you. He has some scratches and cuts from the fights, but nothing deep or worrisome. He is very proud in saying he is the fucking best out there.

When he's walking through the woods back to the nests of their dragons, he sees it.

His whole body freezes. You are standing there, your arm and hand stretched upwards. His own dragon, the one who eats men like candy at Katsuki's own command, the one who has burned villages in seconds with his strong fire, the one who hates anyone’s touch or closeness that isn't Bakugou himself... His dragon has his snot close to you, letting you pet him with its eyes closed, enjoying your affection like a small puppy dog.

And he can not fucking believe what his eyes are seeing.

Of all the women he has had before you, none were brave enough to even look at the beast. They had all been afraid to death.

And there you stand, looking even fascinated by it. Eyes shining and smiling as you feel for the first time what its skin is like under your touch. You look… beautiful. Gorgeous. Heavenly sent. Fuck. You have him in your hands already.

Bakugou Katsuki then decides:

He will fucking kiss the ground you walk. He will give you everything you ask of him.

You want certain clothes to wear? He will search for them for you. You want certain foods? He will fly his dragon to wherever they are made or grown on. You want a land? He will fucking burn every single thing or life it takes to give it to you.

You want him? He will gladly give himself completely to you.

Well, he already is.

#mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #viking!bakugou katsuki #uncle!kudo #mha bakugou x reader #mha bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou katsuki x reader #mha scenario #mha imagines #mha drabble #bnha imagines #bnha drabble #bnha scenarios

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cvntydazai · 5 months ago

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bad arguments

how these bsd characters are after a bad argument

pairing; dazai osamu x fem!reader, chuuya nakahara x fem!reader, ryunosuke akutagawa x fem! reader

word count; 916

content warning; unedited, angst, fluff, arguing, miscommunication

a/n; just something random i wrote while taking a break from my dazai fic!

DAZAI OSAMU:

arguing with dazai was exhausting, this man would rather die a painful death than admit he was in the wrong about anything, it was usually why your fights got more out of hand than they ever needed to be. you hated how he tried to deflect from a situation instead of just owning up to his mistakes.

one particularly heated argument had you so riled up you had to leave your apartment, no longer wanting to look your lover in the eye until he was ready to apologize. he didn’t even spare you a glance as you left, a smug expression on his face.

you make your return to your apartment many hours later, it was now nighttime and much too late to be out, especially alone. the first thing your eye catches when you walk through the door is dazai’s fluffy head of hair resting on the couch. you huff, putting your coat up before walking over to the couch.

“are you ready to apol-“ you stop mid-sentence when you realize dazai’s asleep.

he looked uncomfortable, heavy eyebags and his head resting at an awkward angle on the arm rest. you couldn’t help it, a soft coo leaves your lips and it wakes him instantly. those honey eyes were everything but smug this time around.

“my flower, you’re back.” he mumbles, large hands reaching up to caress your face.

“i am..” you say, he smiles.

you continue to stare into his gaze for just a little longer, the silence draping over the two of you like a warm blanket. he knows that what you’re truly waiting for is his apology, he was more than happy to give it to you.

“i’m sorry, for everything. forgive me?” he says at last in his usual supple tone.

of course you forgave him, you always would.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA:

fights with chuuya usually didn’t last long, you two actually pride yourself on your communication when it comes to your relationship. he would never try to hurt you intentionally, you’re the most important person to him and he makes sure you never forget it.

but this one fight had you both out of control. you don’t remember who started it but no one was willing to end it, anything that came out of either of your mouths was only more fuel for the fire. if you were being honest with yourself, it terrified you. it wasn’t chuuya and his capabilities that had you so scared, you knew he would never bring any harm your way, it was the reality that this fight could be the ending to your relationship.

you didn’t want it to end like this, it couldn’t end like this. he was all you had and you would never forgive yourself if this was how it ends. so caught up in your own frightened mind, you didn’t even notice that chuuya quieted down and was staring into your eyes.

“ey, why are you crying?” he didn’t mean for the question to come out as harsh as it did, he was just so taken aback.

when you didn’t reply he really started to worry, his mind no longer focused on whatever you two were bickering about.

“come on doll, please don’t cry. i’m sorry.” his voice only made more salty tears spill from your eyes, in your opinion you didn’t deserve such tenderness.

he wrapped his arms around your frame, his hand on the back of your head and his face buried in your hair. he let you sob your heart out, even if it made his own heart ache. when you finally calmed down you were ready to speak.

“am i still the most important person in the world to you?” he smiled.

“of course you are.”

RYONUSUKE AKUTAGAWA:

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t good at communicating, a part of you had accepted that wholeheartedly. he made his efforts because of how deeply he cared for you and you felt that was enough most of the time. your arguments were mostly about his carelessness when it came to his own personal safety, his nonchalant attitude to your concerns irritated you down to your core.

“if you’re going to act stupid and put yourself in avoidable danger then i’m leaving, i can’t take this.” you misspoke, his eyes widened.

what you truly meant was that you were leaving for a moment to calm down, not leaving him entirely. you could only stare in shock at what nonsense you just spewed from your mouth, guilt weighed down your body, preventing you from taking even one step towards him. it took seeing the fear in his eyes to finally break you free from your mind.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean it like that i swear.” you tried to mend, now wanting nothing more than to put this whole argument behind you.

he let you pull him into a hug, you held his waist tightly to you. when you felt his hand holding the back of your head you breathed a sigh of relief.

“i know you didn’t mean it that way, but it scared me.” you nodded, understanding.

you mumbled a few more apologies and once you both had calmed down you were able to talk about some of your frustrations. it was mostly you talking and him listening, but it felt good knowing he was listening with such care. he promised to be more careful for you, and you promised to watch your wording when you’re upset.

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #akutagawa ryunosuke #akutagawa x reader #ryunosuke akutagawa x reader #bsd x reader angst #bsd angst #bungo stray dogs angst #bungo stray dogs fluff

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lavender-bun · 11 months ago

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Hands Off

REQUEST | protective rafe? like maybe theyre at a party and the reader gets into some trouble? LOVE UR WRITINGG

PAIRING | bf!rafe cameron x kook!fem!reader

WARNINGS | non-con touching (not by rafe ofc), drinking, protective!rafe

A/N | thank you!! I hope this is what you wanted haha 💕

◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹

You were having the time of your life, just dancing and drinking, distracting yourself from the current family drama that was going on at home. Tonight you forbid yourself to think about any of it and Rafe was more than happy to help you out with that.

Right now you were practically grinding against him, your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss. When he pulled back you were about to take another sip from your cup, frowning when you realized it was empty.

"I'll be right back." You shouted over the loud music, seeing how he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion so you raised your empty cup to show him.

He then nodded, capturing you lips in another quick kiss, watching you leave the dance floor. He turns to chat with Topper and Kelce to kill the time you weren't pressed against him.

You just finished filling your cup when you felt a hand snake around your waist. Smiling you turned around and were about to tease Rafe for being clingy. What you didn't expect was some random idiot you recognized from school, Ryan, when you remembered correctly.

"You're Y/n, right?" He asked and you nodded taking a step to the side so he wasn't touching you anymore.

You grabbed another empty cup to fill up for Rafe, and to avoid this awkward situation, hoping Ryan would get the message and just leave you alone.

Oh how wrong you were.

"Would you like to dance?" he tested the waters, grabbing the cup from your hands to fill it for you as if you're not capable yourself.

"Sorry, I'm not interested-" You quickly turned him down, reaching out to take the cup back but he held it away from your reach.

Either he's incredibly brave or stupid. You and Rafe were the kook couple from the outer banks. The island prince and princess who attend every event or party hand in hand.

"Come on, just one dance, then I'll leave you alone," he smirked.

You cringed on the inside, looking around for any sign of Rafe, or even Topper, cursing under your breath but still smiling like always and trying not to show how uncomfortable you actually were.

"I have a boyfriend." You said, expecting him to now awkwardly walk away but you're startled when he suddenly pulled you against him.

"I don't see him, you?" he whispered and now you were starting to panic, your heart pounding like crazy.

"You better take your fucking hands off my girl before I'll break them." Rafe's sudden voice had you sighing in relief.

Ryan quickly let go of you and you took a few steps back, bumping into Topper who pulled you behind him.

"What? You were all cocky a few seconds ago, what happened?" Rafe laughed, throwing his arm around Ryan's shoulder. "How about we go outside, hm? Have a nice chat?" he emphasized the word 'nice' with a quick raise of his eyebrows.

"I didn't-" he started to apologize but Rafe just dragged him away and outside with Kelce following right behind them.

You wanted to go after them but Topper stood in front of you, blocking your way out. "Whoa, don't worry about them, they'll be back soon."

"Top, we both know he won't go easy on him. Let me just-" You walked past him and he grabbed your arm, turning you back to face him.

"And he won't go easy on me either when he finds out I let you go and witness it." he reminded you and you rolled your eyes, fixing your dress and trying to brush off the uneasy feeling you have in your chest while Topper eyes you with genuine concern. "You good?"

"Mhm, just a little shaken up. I'm alright," you assured him.

You looked around, seeing Rafe coming back inside rubbing his knuckles while walking towards you. He was breathing heavily, and you reached up to fix a few strains of his hair.

Looking down at his hands you gasped softly, seeing how bruised his knuckles were. "Rafe..."

"Hey, I'm okay, you should see him," he smirked proudly and you hit his chest before burying your face in it.

He wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head before asking. "Are you okay?"

You just nodded against him, holding onto his polo shirt to ground yourself. Rafe looks down at you and knows the night was done for. The only thing you wanted right now was laying in bed with him holding you close.

"Wanna go home?" he asked and the second you nodded he said quick goodbyes to his friends, leading you outside to his truck.

He helps you in and closes the door for you, rushing to get into the driver's side, starting the car, and turning onto the road. He places his hand on your thigh, squeezing it for reassurance.

"I love you." You told him, taking his hand in yours tightly.

"I love you more, baby." he flashed you a smile, kissing the back of your hand and focusing back on the road.

◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹

Taglist

For everything:

@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel @superlegend216

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron angst #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx fic #outer banks x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader

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obxsummer · 1 month ago

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overdrive // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: a guaranteed 5k payment turns into a diving mission that gives john b more stress than he needs, jj learns why he needs to take a safety stop, and despite being in the hospital, you're just happy to have some peace and quiet in your boyfriend's arms.

warnings: spoilers for s4 ep2, the usual obx kinda shit

navigation -- series masterlist

“Do you guys know anybody that’s been here, because I don’t?”

“Nope.”

“Sarah, you must know somebody that’s been here, right? I mean like all Kooks, they… they know each other.”

“Are you kidding me?”

You tuned out the rumored conversations of the group as John B drove the boat toward Goat Island, the location of which Genrette asked you all to meet to discuss the possible Blackbeard treasure. While the idea of getting back into this treasure hunt wasn’t one you enjoyed, it felt more normal than you anticipated.

The island looked like any other, but the amount of trees and greenery was in abundance compared to Kildare. You could see an older man waiting on the dock as you all got closer. The lack of upkeep made you shiver, knowing this likely wasn’t going to be very welcoming.

“This place is 200 years old and they still don’t have a road that doesn’t go underwater twice a day.”

You shifted in your seat as Pope and JJ grabbed the ropes to tie off, and your boyfriend greeted the man politely as they stood. Silence followed and the man continued to stare at all of you. “Welcome to Blackstone.”

You all shared awkward glances as he walked away without another word. JJ offered you his hand to climb out of the HMS Pogue, his palm shifting to rest on your back as the group moved forward to follow.

“So uh, what have you been digging?” Your boyfriend attempted to dissolve the awkward tension but wasn’t fairing well.

“Ditches.” The reply was hoarse and simple.

“Ditches,” JJ repeated, “At least it’s not graves.”

“All the same to me.”

You didn’t like the atmosphere that this visit was suddenly bringing and brought JJ’s hand to hold in your own. Something seemed creepy and off as if you were walking straight into a trap.

“Uh, so how long have you been working for Mr. Genrette?” John B continued.

The man you were following came to a pause in his walk, sparing a glance at the group of you over his shoulder. “As long as I can remember.”

Your path eventually went up a flight of stairs to a large white house before the man pointed you in that direction. JJ thanked him and continued to approach, dropping your hand in favor of using the door knocker to announce your arrival.

“Oh, just a little quick FYI, they drug you before they chop you up.”

You smacked JJ’s shoulder in annoyance, hating the way it settled in your spine with goosebumps. “You’re an ass.”

He held his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying, don’t eat or drink anything.”

“Not funny.”

“Yeah, guys. I think I’ve changed my mind about this one. I-I really don’t wanna be here,” Sarah voiced the thoughts that were running through your mind as you nodded in agreement, Kie echoing the statement.

You didn’t get a chance to make a run for it as the locks on the door began to click open, revealing another man in a white button-up with a sweater tied loosely around his neck. “Hi. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. It’s quite a big house and I’m… I’m afraid the servants have all gone. All except, uh, good old Demp. Just can’t seem to get rid of him. Uh, you must be the… the Pogues. The Great Seekers.”

John B tilted his head in skepticism. “Yeah, I.. I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, now, don’t you be modest. I’ve read of your adventures. It’s quite thrilling,” The man disregarded your brother’s hesitance. “Uh, come in, come in. I.. I’m the son-in-law. Chandler Groff. Wes was really, really hoping you’d show. He’s been waiting.”

JJ pulled your hand back in his as he stepped forward, letting you walk ahead of him before he shifted to hide you behind his back in case anyone jumped out. “Yeah, pleasure. JJ.”

The six of you walked into the next room, taking in the dreary scenery. Cobwebs covered every surface in the house, dripping off the lights and walls, making you question what actually went on there. It seemed like a staged haunted house, which honestly was worse than it being a real one.

“This place smells like dead bodies.”

You glared at your brother’s comment, hating that he was right. Nothing in this house eased your fears about this being a bad idea. Chandler led you into another room, this one containing a fireplace and the man you’d come to know as Wes Genrette.

“Come in, please, please. Warm yourselves by the fire,” He greeted and waved you all in the large study. There was no light besides the rays attempting to creep in the windows, casting the room in a cold atmosphere. “I apologize for dragging you all out here, but I… I don’t think I could speak about this in public. I know I mentioned Blackbeard, but I assure you all, my interest is not for treasure.”

The six of you scattered around the various seating options in the room. JJ was seated on the armrest of the chair you occupied; his hand warm on the back of your neck as he rubbed the skin softly. John B and Sarah were on your other side with Pope, Cleo, and Kiara across from you.

“My ancestor, Francis Genrette, was the British officer who caught and killed the notorious pirate.”

Pope shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he turned to face the older man. “Wait. Your… your direct ancestor?”

Wes nodded. “Mhm. Yes, unfortunately. After he’d beheaded Blackbeard, he killed the pirate’s wife, Elizabeth. And since then, for 300 years, generations of Genrettes have been haunted by Elizabeth’s ghost and have died violent deaths. Including my daughter, Larissa. Chandler’s wife.”

You glanced over where the mentioned individual was standing, noticing he seemed unphased by the story being played out. It did strike you oddly that he lived with his father-in-law, figuring that he would’ve had his own home with Larissa for their family.

“My daughter saw Elizabeth a week before she died,” Wes continued as he focused his gaze on the portrait of Larissa that was hung above the fireplace. “Now, I’ve had a visitation. So, I know I don’t have much time.”

John B cleared his throat as he pulled his attention away from the haunting painting. “Right, uh. So, we’re really sorry that happened to you, but what do you want from us?”

Wes nodded in understanding of the skepticism. “Of course. Let’s get down to business. Chandler.”

“We believe that we’ve found a way to break the curse on this family,” Chandler took up the explanation and he pointed to a piece of the painting of Elizabeth that showed a large amulet. “Right before she was murdered, Elizabeth begged Francis to retrieve from her husband’s ship a keepsake that he’d given her. Her most prized possession. An amulet. He denied the request and then murdered her. “

“But if we find that amulet, fulfilling Elizabeth’s last request, I believe it will break the curse that has haunted my family for over 300 years,” Wes said.

You weren’t fully convinced a necklace would magically make this all disappear; the whole situation reminded you too much of Limbrey and her need for the cross to cure her disease. It just didn’t seem feasible.

Kie must’ve been thinking the same as she spoke up, “Okay. Um… I’m sorry, where did you say that necklace thingy is?”

“Blackbeard’s last ship, the Adventure.”

“Perfect,” You mumbled quietly, knowing this was going to fly off the rails quickly, as did every treasure hunt you guys went after. Another underwater search? No thanks.

Chandler continued, “According to all records, the amulet was still on it when it was scuttled right off Goat Island.”

Pope nodded in understanding. “Right, yeah, but the Coast Guard excavated that site years ago,” He explained.

“The excavation team didn’t know what we know,” Mr. Genrette tried to reason. He handed Pope over a book, pointing out something in the tattered pages. “They didn’t have this. There’s a secret lockbox hidden behind the headboard in the captain’s chamber. Do you dive?”

“We dive. All… all of us do,” JJ lied before anyone had a chance to disagree. You pinched his knee softly in warning. “It’s just, we only do it if the price is right.”

Wes didn’t seem upset by the comeback. “Excellent. We are prepared to offer you a premium for your services. Fifty thousand, plus expenses. Five thousand up front. And we would very much like your immediate answer.”

John B thankfully moved before JJ had a chance to open his mouth again. “We just need to think it through. We’ll be right back.” He grabbed the shoulder of your boyfriend’s shirt, nearly dragging him out of his seat to another room with the rest of you quickly following.

“What was that!”

“We have to think.”

“This is weird,” You echoed Kie and Sarah’s statements. “I mean it sounds like Limbrey 2.0, no? I don’t like it. We can just slip out the back.”

John B paced behind the couch. “Are we really going to listen to the guy who should be in a white padded room? Visitations? Curses?”

“He’s a madman!” Cleo agreed.

“Obviously, he’s batshit, but he’s in there crying about his daughter. Like, he needs help,” Sarah tried to reason.

Kie shook her head. “He needs therapy, not a necklace thing. We cannot ignore the fact that there is a ghost and a curse. Y’all aren’t getting weird ass vibes?”

“Okay. Guys.” Cleo pulled the conversation back in. “Let’s just say we take this job. Is it even possible?”

“Yes,” JJ’s voice was monotone as he responded. You shook your head at him, knowing it probably was, but you didn’t want to find out.

“I knew what you would say,” Cleo dismissed him, knowing he was eager to get any and all money. “Everybody else?”

With a soft groan, you ran your hands across your face. “I don’t like it.”

“That ship is probably 80-100 feet down. The currents are probably ripping.”

“Guys,” JJ whispered harshly, “Are we really gonna worry about the details right now?”

A resounding “Yes!” followed his question.

JJ shook his head, looking at all of you as if the answer was obvious. “In our time of need, are we really gonna turn down free money? No! That’s not like us.”

“It’s not free!” You argued back as you made eye contact with him. “Babe-”

“The worst that can happen is we walk out of here with 5 Gs in our pocket. End of discussion.”

“That’s not the worst!

“We could go to jail, we could die, we could-”

JJ seemingly ended the discussion for everyone as he ignored the concerns and walked back to the room where Wes and Chandler were waiting. “Sir, we’ve come to our conclusion, and we’ll do it. We’ll take the job.”

A deep sigh left your mouth, your forehead dropping to Sarah’s shoulder in frustration at JJ’s willingness to throw your group into danger. Pope intercepted JJ’s attempts at taking the initial 5k payment as Wes and Chandler thanked you all graciously.

Chandler reached out to grab JJ’s shoulder. “Hey, JJ. I believe in you.”

You stared at the awkward moment, listening as JJ thanked him before moving back to you, grabbing your hand to lead the group out of the house. You risked looking over your shoulder to see the creepy smile on Chandler Groff’s face as he watched your group disappear from view.

Looking up at your boyfriend as you made it out, you could tell he was a little thrown off guard. “Jayj?”

“I’m fine, baby,” His response was quiet as he tried to convince you before plastering a convincing smile back on his face. “Let’s go, y’all! We got work to do.”

JJ’s whole mood had taken a turn with the five grand in hand, and the plan in place on the dive. What Wes had said was lining up with the information in the captain’s log, to your dismay. You were kind of hoping on the trail to end cold and avoid JJ diving into wreckage in the first place.

While the boys, Kie, and Cleo took the liberty of attempting to find more info on the location of the wreck, you and Sarah managed the store in the meantime. You were restocking and organizing the surrounding items while Sarah took the register.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” A stern voice broke you from your routine as you looked over. You quickly recognized the man as the one who kept going head-to-head with JJ on the auction for the house, and he didn’t look like he was here to be nice. “Y’all remember me?”

“How could we forget?” Your tone was sickly sweet but you let the sarcasm sink in. Walking behind the counter, you stopped next to Sarah and placed your fingers on the switchblade Cleo left under the register in a safety precaution.

The man nodded and slid a paper toward Sarah. “Hmm, like that attitude. No wonder Cameron liked to keep you around. I’ve got something for you here. I can take this place off your hands at any time. For a fair price.”

Sarah chuckled softly. “I don’t think that’s necessary. But can we offer you a keychain? Maybe a… glass bong, a pipe? You look like you need one.”

He looked away to not face the two of you as if he was assessing your work so far. “You know, y’all are gonna lose this place. You might as well sell now.”

You rolled your eyes and motioned toward the dock where he came. “Whatever you said, old man. And you can tell Cameron to kiss my ass if he comes asking.”

Sarah picked up the paper, her eyes moving quickly as she skimmed it before holding it out. You glanced at her expression and took it, instantly clocking the Public Notice, Change of Zoning.

“My dad used to do that all the time. It’s changing the zoning, it’s a way to force owners out of their property.”

You groaned and set it down. “Pope went through hell to get it changed in the first place. How can they change it back?”

“If someone’s got the money to do it, what’s it matter?”

“What are we gonna tell the others?” Your voice dropped to a whisper as you looked at her, the realization sinking in that this would cost more than you could account for, even with the fronted 5k.

She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

You read the paper fully, wishing there was some form of hope to find hidden in the language but came up empty-handed. “We’ll tell JB first. He’ll know what to do.”

Sarah didn’t say anything but you could feel her chin rest on your shoulder before you dropped yours to lean against her. This was just another nail in the coffin that the world seemed to be building around your family.

And it was getting really hard to feel like they weren’t winning.

“My lady.”

You laughed as JJ tossed a blanket over your face, his warm body climbing in the hammock next to yours with a rough shove. Pulling the fabric away from your eyes, you were met with his crystal blue ones staring right back.

“Hi.”

It took less than two seconds for him to kiss you, the movement rough and warm. You hummed at his action, loving the way he seemed to know exactly how to hold you and bring butterflies to your stomach every time.

Fingers slipped into his hair, gently pulling the blond strands when he bit down on your lip with a soft gasp, everything heating with each second. JJ’s leg slipped between yours as you leaned up to chase his lips before the hammock moved sharply, threatening to throw the two of you to the ground.

“Okay, okay,” You giggled as he shifted his weight back down, wet kisses on your neck coming shortly after. “They will kill us if they catch us out here again.”

“We need our own place then.”

You huffed, pulling his head awake from your neck where he was starting something he couldn’t finish. “As much as I would love to do this right now, we have to talk about the dive.”

JJ groaned loudly in faux annoyance and dropped his weight on you completely like a slug. “Why can’t we just have sex and figure it out later?”

“Because Sarah already heard us last night and I’m trying to save you from John B if it happens again,” You explained with a smile before kissing his forehead. “Come on. Please.”

“Fine, fine.” He looked up at you with full attention. “What about the dive?”

You studied his face for a second, wondering how after all these years he still looked at you like you put the stars in the sky despite everything the two of you had gone through. “I wanna go with you.”

His response was instant, “No.”

“I wasn’t asking,” You shot back sternly. “You’re not going alone. I won’t let you.”

JJ brushed the hair out of your face gently and shook his head. “Sweetheart, it’s 80 feet down in the dark and moving through structures.”

You smirked at him. “Exactly, and that’s why you’ll need backup and I’m going.”

He sighed and dropped his head to your chest, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear.

“Hmm?”

“I said your brother is going to kill me.”

A bubble of laughter escaped you at the thought of John B flipping his shit, which he would when you told him. You rubbed JJ’s back gently as the sunset dipped behind the skyline, nighttime beginning to make its appearance. “Come on babe, where you go, I go, remember? Includes bottom of the ocean.”

“Okay, now when you say it like that, it sounds really bad,” He grumbled and took your hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “Yeah, okay. I don’t like it but you’re gonna do it anyway. But if John B says no, I’m not arguing with him.”

You rolled your eyes, “You won’t have to. I’ll handle it. You just gotta look pretty and make sure I don’t get the bends.”

“I’ve bent your ass over before and-”

“JJ!”

The next morning, you made your way out to the shop where Sarah usually drank her morning coffee. The two of you didn’t sleep well with anxiety of the night ahead and you stayed up into the late hours trying to figure out how to deal with the zoning issue.

“Hey,” You whispered as you pulled JJ’s zip up closer over your chest and approached her. The morning chill was starting to set in, causing you to shiver.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, a Kildare Surf Co. mug held tightly in her grasp to warm her fingers. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shook your head no and leaned on the railing next to her, the two of you soaking up the sunrise and calm water. Times like this were so peaceful and grounding that you appreciated them more than the eye could tell. It was a reminder that each day was a brand new start despite how the last one ended.

“What are you two doing up?” John B found you faster than you anticipated, his Converse quiet on the wood compared to his usual rowdy steps. He still looked half asleep in his long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, his hair unruly as he gave Sarah a soft greeting kiss.

He moved to you next with a kiss on the forehead and a hug you refused to pull away from. John B always gave the best hugs. They were warm and a safe space for you, more than he had ever been in the previous years. The protectiveness had gotten stronger with the knowledge that your dad really wasn’t coming back and at the end of the day, all you would have is each other.

“You okay?” He asked quietly, palm holding your head to his chest when you tightened your grip after a few moments.

“I’ve gotta talk to you.”

He whistled lowly. “Don’t like the sound of that first thing in the morning.”

Sarah pulled the folded paper out from her hoodie pocket to hold it toward him. John B let go of you to take it, his eyes scanning the words before he let out a soft, “Shit.”

“The guy who tried to outbid us at the auction stopped by yesterday,” Sarah explained as she crossed her arms over her chest, shifting to face the two of you with her back to the railing. “He dropped it off, and said we’ll lose everything.”

John B shook his head and folded the paper back up. “Does anyone else know?”

“Just us. Pope’s going to freak out,” She replied, stepping toward your brother to lean into his side. “I’m sorry, I don’t know-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” John B shushed her and pulled her closer. “We’re gonna figure it out. It’s not the best thing to start the morning with but…”

You kicked your shoes into the wood. “Yeah, I’m about to make it worse. I’m diving with JJ.”

“No, absolutely not.”

You rolled your eyes, repeating what you’d told JJ yesterday. “John B, I’m not asking. I’m telling you.”

“Did he put you up to this?” He tossed his hands out to the side, motioning toward the house. “Because I’ve told him-”

“JB, stop,” You interrupted whatever rude thing was about to come out of his mouth. “No, JJ didn’t put me up to it. He’s not happy about it either, but it’s my decision. I’m not letting him go down there alone.”

John B shook his head in disagreement. “Then I’ll go. Or Pope can, it doesn’t have to be you.”

“Pope knows exactly where the wreckage is and I don’t steer the boat as well as you.”

“Kie, then.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Oh, so Kie’s allowed to but I’m not?”

John B groaned and shoved his hands to his face. “You’re making this really difficult.”

“It’s not your decision. And there may not be anything down there anyway, so quit worrying about it until there’s something to worry about,” You tried your best not to sound angry toward him, knowing he had your interests in mind. “John B, please let me help.”

Sarah placed her hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be fine. If anything, it’s going to keep JJ’s mind on safety, which is a good thing, okay?”

John B kept his eyes on you. You could practically see the thoughts moving behind his eyes, thinking if there was any way to talk you out of it, but he came up empty.

Which led you here, to you and JJ slipping on wetsuits while John B and Pope navigated and Sarah, Cleo, and Kie kept an eye out from land. You hissed as JJ’s fingers skimmed your back to zip up the material, sending shivers down your spine with the coolness.

“Sorry, sorry,” He apologized before helping you lift the BCD and remaining gear on. “Honestly, it’s kind of like surfing the point, you know. We’re upstream, and then the rip is just gonna… take us out.”

Mumbled agreements came from Pope and John B, none of them convincing in the slightest. You glared at the three boys. “You guys are not helping my nerves.”

“Okay, then take the wetsuit off and-”

You smacked John B’s shoulder, knowing he still wasn’t happy about the situation. “If I got JJ to shut up, you can too. Come on.”

“Don’t forget your safety stop,” Pope reminded as JJ loaded the speargun he insisted on taking. “Fifteen feet for three minutes. Hear that, JJ? Fifteen feet, three minutes.”

“Yeah, copy that.” The reply was direct as he pulled his goggles to his forehead. JJ’s attention shifted to you as you got to your feet and he reached out to grab your shoulder. “Hey, you good?”

You tried your best to keep the worry off your face and nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

The water was colder than you expected, and the water was so, so dark. The underwater lights did a little to help but it still was dim unless you were on something. You followed JJ’s lead further down, feeling the pressure begin to set in as the depth increased.

To your shock, the flashlight hit an algae-covered figure that belonged at the front of a pirate ship. You didn’t think you would find it this fast, let alone that it would be real. Your gaze met JJ’s the excitement seeping in as the two of you moved forward to where Pope said would be best to enter.

Fish and sand flew in every direction as you moved water around while swimming, the sight almost beautiful if it wasn’t deadly too. JJ quickly found the door to shift, pushing inside the area that would lead to the Captain’s Quarters where the secret compartment was above the headboard.

You reached forward to push on the stone that had grown over time until you found a soft spot that shifted. Using Cleo’s knife to dig it out, you reached inside to feel for the supposed treasure that was supposed to be there.

JJ called your name and moved his light away, bringing what looked like a fresh set of tools into view. Which could only really mean one thing: someone else was down here.

You didn’t have time to think before the back of your neck was grabbed harshly, pulling you further down in the water and disorienting your entire body. Attempting to scream was nearly impossible with the mouthpiece as you kicked and shoved against the person who had grabbed you and pushed you out of JJ’s view.

The faint sounds of him yelling for you were barely there as you tried to get your bearings back. You caught a glimpse of his flashlight and began to move in that direction when hands grabbed your waist again and yanked backward.

“Let go!” You tried to yell, lashing back with your elbow and Cleo’s knife in an attempt to defend yourself. Things only got worse when your oxygen supply was stolen, the mouthpiece ripping away with the guy’s force as something cut along your arm. You caught sight of him swimming away but were hit with the harsh reality that your source of air was gone, left only with the deep breath you managed to steal.

Panic set in quickly, sending you into survival mode as you did your best to swim to wear JJ was last seen. Noises helped guide and you could make out him using debris to break the worn structure and free himself. Your lungs burned with the lack of oxygen and you were starting to believe you wouldn’t even make it to him before passing out.

“Hey, hey.” His voice was hardly recognizable before he lunged forward, placing the emergency mouthpiece in your grasp for air to flood your lungs. “You okay? We gotta go. We gotta go.”

You caught the faint beeping signal that warned JJ’s air supply was almost out as he started guiding the two of you back to the surface. Your brain was still in survival mode and the only thing you wanted to do was get the hell out of the water as soon as you could.

The second the water broke away, you dropped the mouthpiece JJ had provided and gasped for air. He coughed aggressively behind you, the two of you reaching out for each other in relief that you had made it back.

“Oh my god, shit. Are you okay?” His hands reached out for you in search of immediate injuries.

“Yeah, yeah,” You choked on water and ripped the mask from your head to see him clearly. “Who the hell was that? And where’s John B?”

There was so much fog you couldn’t see and your flashlights had been lost in the fight to escape so JJ yelled out for your brother until you caught sight of the boat. Pope quickly tossed the ladder over as John B reached out for you.

“Hey, hey, hand me your stuff. Where’s your BCD?” He asked as he grabbed your elbows and lifted you out of the water like it was the easiest thing ever.

You hit the floor of the boat relatively hard, still heaving for air in your lungs. “It’s gone.”

“What do you mean it’s gone?”

“I mean it’s gone!” It came out more aggressive than you meant for it to. “There’s a guy that tried to kill us!”

John B immediately tried to pull the remaining gear and wetsuit off you as Pope explained the boat that was up here, confirming your story. Your brother wrapped your shoulders in his lightweight shirt and ran to start the engine, pushing the boat back in the direction of home.

“You guys okay?” Pope asked as he watched JJ collapse down next to you. The only answer he received was a thumbs up from your boyfriend, the two of you still coming down from the adrenaline rush.

The drive back was a blur and thankfully, you were back on land with your friends before you had time to even process what had just happened.

“Someone tried to kill us,” You echoed again when John B repeated his question. You kept your head against the seat, trying to clear the fog from your brain that didn’t seem to go away as you took deep breaths. It had been a good 15 minutes back and you still couldn’t seem to shake it.

“What? Why? That doesn’t make sense. Why would someone try to kill you?”

“Obviously, they were going after the same thing we were, right?”

You groaned as they continued to talk. There was a searing pain making its way through your body and no matter how much you tried to focus on their words, you couldn’t. Sarah’s face was suddenly in front of you, her hands on your cheeks. You could see her mouth moving but couldn’t hear her voice.

John B was quickly next to you, his arms grabbing your waist alongside Sarah before you were being moved without another word. Blurry sights eventually told you that the group was in the Twinkie, and there was so, so much yelling, but you couldn’t catch it enough to ask what was going on.

“Ow, shit,” You groaned and curled into a ball against Kiara’s side, willing the pain to go away if you coiled small enough. Turning to her, you blinked a few times to steady your sight before speaking, “Hey, guess what?”

“Just hold on, we’re almost there,” She pleaded, eyes watching you with concern.

You shifted as much as you could, whimpering with the movement as you managed to get your hand in the swim shorts you’d been wearing to pull out the heavy-weight item in your palm.

“You found it?” Sarah’s voice sounded so loud in your head as she grabbed the balled towel from your grip. “Holy shit.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” John B asked as he looked over as best as he could while driving.

You coughed painfully and flipped him off, “Too busy dying, Booker.”

Cleo praised your efforts, calling you a rockstar and every other achievement in the book but you couldn’t hear over the noises that were setting in your skull. Every movement felt like an attack on your skin as your friends lifted you and JJ from the car into what you assumed was the hospital.

John B’s arm was tight around your waist as he and Cleo carried your weighted form. Your brother informed the hospital staff everything you couldn’t hear and the next thing you knew, you were surrounded by red lights and metal with JJ’s body next to you.

A pained whimper left your throat as you collapsed against the mattress that was beneath you, curling into your side again to try and disappear from it all. JJ’s own sounds of distress were hurtful to hear so you forced yourself to turn over to see him. Every muscle in your body felt like it was on fire, but you managed to grab his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly.

“I got you,” You whispered quietly as the room darkened and quieted. It took a few minutes but everything seemed to slow down. Your muscles were still tense and cramping, but you could hear and see better than 15 minutes ago, which was a plus.

JJ’s breathing evened out, and even though you were sure he was sleeping, you refused to take your hand out of his. You caught movement in your peripheral and shifted to see your brother standing in the doorway, watching you carefully.

A coil smile tugged your lips as you flipped him off with your free hand, which was easily returned by him. His mouth moved slow enough for you to read out “I love you, dumbass” before he disappeared from your vision and you fell into the best sleep of your life.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed that you lay there with JJ, the two of you breathing softly. You swore your heart was beating too loud that he could hear it, but you were just relieved to have your body back to yourself.

A nurse had come by not too long ago to explain the effects of the nitrogen in your blood and how the treatment process would go from there. You tried your best to listen, but your head was so heavy and exhausted that it was difficult.

“Babe.”

You hummed in response to JJ’s whisper, your eyes still closed as you rested against his chest. His heartbeat was steady in your ear, a reminder that the two of you were still here together and would be okay.

“You almost died.” You shifted slightly to look at him, twisting your leg between his to get impossibly closer, and pushed up on your hands to see him fully. His eyes were wet, and he looked so, so stressed. “I should’ve never let you go down there.”

A small smile graced your lips as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Then who would’ve saved your life?”

“Technically, I saved your life so-“

“Okay,” You laughed quietly and settled back against him, pressing another kiss to his jawline. “We both saved each other, yeah?”

His hands were warm as they curled around your bare shoulder to hold you, the two of you a mess of tangled limbs and love inside the small space you were given. “Would’ve never forgiven myself if you didn’t make it out of there.”

“I told you, where you go, I go,” You mumbled into his chest. “That includes tiny ass hyperbaric chambers, too.”

A small laugh left his lips before he kissed you, humming at the sensation it always gave him when you were soft like this. He loved nothing more than sharing moments so sweet and comforting with you. Like you were a calm in the storm that was always ready to strike.

“You know, we’re in here for twelve hours,” You hinted as you looked up into his gaze. “You got anything to do?”

He followed your insinuation and smiled like he had just won the lottery. “Oh, sweetheart. Have I told you I love you lately?”

Hours passed in heated kisses, soft touches, and shared giggles as you and JJ loved each other back to life. It was easy to tell when he wanted more, but you refused to share that part of him in a shitty hospital of all places, despite how much he pleaded with you.

Nurses spewed hospital talk left and right as you tried to enjoy your last few minutes of peace in JJ’s arms. Your time together was almost up, twelve hours turning into 30 minutes before you knew it and part of you was sad to leave it all. As much as you hated confined spaces and hospitals both, you loved having no distractions between you and JJ. It wasn’t often the two of you had the privacy to be vulnerable with each other, especially in a house with siblings and friends, so this was your slice of heaven for the time you had it.

“Hey,” JJ mumbled, pulling you out of your almost-nap. “Babe, wake up. Hey, look at me.”

You shifted lazily, not expecting to be woken up so suddenly but the panic in his voice snapped you out of it. “What? What’s wrong?”

He was frantic as he leaned above you. “There was a guy in the hall just now. I think it was the guy, the dude from the wreck. He-he had a wound right where I got him underwater with the spear gun-“

“Did he see you?” You attempted to get him to focus, to which he nodded. “Great, so he knows we’re here.”

“We gotta get out.”

You sighed and flopped back against the pillows, “Jayj, we have like 10 minutes. Just don’t make a scene and-“

“Ma’am! Miss!” His hand smacked against the window facing the hallway as he attempted to get someone’s attention.”

“JJ!” You grabbed his arm to stop the loud noise as he tried to tell the nurse who the man was and why you needed out. You managed to shove JJ away from the window that he was prepping to kick out. “Hey! Chill!”

The nurse seemed to notice the two of you were in distress and walked closer to hear better. “Just give me like 90 seconds and we’ll get you out, okay?”

“Hey!” He protested and stumbled back to look at you with a panic in his eyes.

You grabbed his face to focus his attention. “Babe, 90 seconds, okay. If we kick the window out, it’s gonna cause a scene and Shoupe will be on our ass, okay? 90 seconds.”

JJ groaned loudly and leaned against the metal wall behind him. The need to fight had him tense, every muscle in his body telling him to run and take you with him no matter what. You knew it had a lot to do with his dad. The first sign of danger made him anxious and jumpy and the quicker he could get everyone to safety, the better.

What didn’t help was him yelling the second the nurse let you both out, shouting about the man in the room next door who tried to kill the two of you.

“JJ!” You reached after him as he moved toward the hallway, barely giving you time to crawl out.

“I’m going to buy you some time, meet me outside!”

You didn’t have a second to argue as he started yelling at the nurses about being left in the chamber too long. Security moved in quickly after in an attempt to calm him down and you watched, horrified, as they started to take him outside.

“I’m gonna file a formal complaint!” He yelled, managing to make eye contact with you as he did. “Okay? File a formal complaint!”

You caught on to his emphasis and cursed under your breath. In his defense, he managed to make enough of a scene that a few patients spilled into the hallway, one male with a bandage on his arm included which gave you the answer you were looking for.

Moving as unsuspiciously as you could, you slid into the room across from the chamber you’d been in. The first thing you caught sight of was the amount of bloody bandages and you quickly turned away from them to focus on the area of the room that wasn’t contaminated.

“File, file, file,” Your voice was low as you searched for any sign of the paper but came up empty-handed. “Shit.”

Figuring the nurse’s station was the next best bet, you started your path there, trying to look like a visitor in a place you most certainly stood out from in your swim shorts, top, and John B’s floral shirt. Thankfully, JJ was still causing enough trouble that you were able to spot the wound picture from the pile of papers and snatch it from the desk, quickly tucking it into your chest and making your way to the exit.

“Guys!” You caught sight of Heyward’s truck, Cleo and Pope sitting inside expectantly for you and JJ, and started running in their direction.

“What’s the rush, girl? Where’s your man?” Cleo popped her head out the window to get a closer look at you.

You didn’t spare the time to answer and stepped on the back tire to push yourself into the bed of the truck. “JJ’s coming, just drive!”

Pope didn’t hesitate to put the car in gear and take off down the exit road from the hospital. Thankfully, JJ must’ve thought the same idea and was coming out the side entrance, down the hill. He spared no time and braced against the side of the truck to jump in before the vehicle even came to a stop.

“Are you okay?” Your question was left unanswered as he tumbled into the bed with no grace whatsoever. From first glance, he was unharmed, and you hoped that remained true.

“You guys know that guy that was down at the wreck and tried to kill us?” JJ rushed out as he spoke to Cleo and Pope through the open back window. “He was there!”

“At the hospital with you?” Pope questioned as he drove away from the building.

“Yes! He was getting stitched up where I got him in with the harpoon gun!”

You handed the file that you’d taken in for Cleo to read, wanting to spare yourself the images of his wound while knowing she had her head on straight unlike you from the adrenaline rush. She took it and scanned the information written.

“Cheese on bread. You two gonna get yourselves killed!”

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arieslost · 8 months ago

Text

the other papaya | op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (brief pato o’ward x fem!reader)

summary: something something the first five times you hear the name “oscar piastri” and the one time you say it

wc: 3,165

warnings: mention of covid lockdown, a wee bit o’ angst, drinking

masterlist — join my tag list here!

The first time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it was said in contempt.

You knew your boyfriend didn’t hate him, but you also knew that Pato could practically hear the phone ringing with the offer to drive for McLaren in F1 right up until he found out that the seat was going to someone else. To Oscar Piastri. The “kid,” as he so aptly referred to him.

“He’s only two years younger than you,” you admonished him one night, soon after the announcement was made public.

“Exactly. A kid.”

“I’m two years younger than you.” You said, and that made him wrinkle his nose.

“Point taken.”

You would describe your relationship with Pato O’Ward as puppy love. Things between the two of you escalated a little too quickly, as many things in 2020 did. You went from going on a whopping four dates by the end of 2019 to living together for the foreseeable future when everything went on lockdown. Your mother had voiced her concern about it, but if you didn’t live with him you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Besides, you liked each other so much that it only made sense that you continued to build your relationship in the comfort of his spacious apartment. The two of you settled into a decent rhythm, and you took the time to learn more about motorsport. When he was finally able to hit the track again, you went to every race you could, decked out in papaya, cheering him on no matter what. And you continued to do so even though he lost his chance at driving in F1 to “the kid.”

The second time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it came from the man himself when you ran into him at the 2024 Australian Grand Prix.

It was the first time you felt rather hesitant about going to a race with your boyfriend. Pato was welcomed to the McLaren F1 team as a reserve driver, and that was how you found yourself feeling extremely out of place in the McLaren garage. You met Oscar’s girlfriend before you met him, and while she was kind enough to get you a pair of headphones and offer to sit with you during the race, the entire interaction had you feeling like you should’ve just stayed back at the hotel. All the other WAGs were dressed to the nines, looking effortlessly beautiful, and you were wearing ripped jeans and a jersey with Pato’s number on it, like you always did, even though he wasn’t racing. With Pato busy in a debrief, you were busy just trying to stay out of the way and not stick out like a sore thumb.

“Excuse me,” someone said, and you assumed you were in the way, so you apologized and started moving when the person grabbed your arm to stop you. “No, sorry, I just– hi. You’re Pato’s girlfriend, yeah?”

Your eyes widened when you recognized the man talking to you. “Um… yes, I am.”

“I’m Oscar. Piastri,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded, accepting his handshake and telling him your name in return. “Are you here to tell me I need to leave?”

“What? No, of course not. Pato told me you were here, so I wanted to come say hi.”

“Oh.” You could feel your face starting to grow hot, because you really weren’t sure what to do in this situation.

Pato lost a chance at a seat to this guy, and you remembered his disappointment well. But you didn’t expect Oscar to come up to you in a million years.

“That’s really nice of you,” you continued, trying to smile without looking too awkward. “Congrats on getting the seat. You must be pretty talented.”

“Ah, thanks.” He looked at you for a moment, and you looked back. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hi.”

You giggled in spite of yourself. “You said that already.”

“Right, yeah. Well, it was nice to meet you,” he said, hesitantly tacking your name onto the end of his sentence. “Thanks for being here.”

“Nice to meet you too, Oscar. Good luck today.”

Two races later, Pato messaged him to congratulate him on his podium, and you mentioned wanting to thank and congratulate him yourself. You got Oscar’s number, and after his quick response, the conversation died out, just as you expected. You didn’t have anything else to say to him anyway, but soon after, you got a follow request from him on Instagram. You accepted without a second thought– just one papaya supporting another.

The third time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it was when a TikTok showed up on your feed talking about the “shocking split” between him and his girlfriend. You were reasonably surprised; his girlfriend was beautiful and kind, and from an outsider’s perspective they seemed quite happy with each other. The video went on to discuss speculation that his girlfriend was the one who had ended the relationship, and there were pictures of him looking visibly upset at the latest race. You closed the app, feeling like you were massively invading his privacy even though the first thing you saw upon opening Instagram was a statement on his story confirming the breakup. You couldn’t imagine what he was going through.

“Ah, so you saw, too,” Pato said, adjusting his workout clothes as he leaned over your shoulder.

“It’s terrible,” you sighed, shutting your phone off. “They seemed so happy together.”

“High school sweethearts, too. That makes it worse.”

You gave him a look. “You can feel bad for him, y’know.”

“I do!” Pato raised his hands with a laugh. “But if he wants to sit out of a race because of this, I won’t be upset.”

“You’re terrible, get out of here.” You shoved him playfully, and he left with a kiss on your forehead.

The last race weekend before summer break brought you a taste of the heartbreak Oscar went through only a couple months prior.

Pato had been in one of the older cars running some tests, and came home a little later than usual. He didn’t even answer your question of how his day was before he was sitting you down on the couch and looking anywhere but at your face.

“Pato, what’s going on? You’re kind of freaking me out,” you laughed nervously.

“I think we should break up.” He said, face stony.

You blinked. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a little while,” he began, “and I think it’s for the best.”

“How long is ‘a while’?” You asked, shifting away from him as you felt your heart begin to pound.

“Ever since I became a reserve driver.” He confessed, and you scoffed.

“Are you serious right now?”

“This is the closest I’ve ever been to a F1 seat.” He said, like that made breaking up logical.

“Yeah, I know. And you know how I know? Because I’ve been around for years.” You hissed, standing up and walking towards the bedroom. “But I guess that means nothing to you.”

“Don’t be like that,” Pato protested, following close behind. “This is my career. I don’t want to risk anything.”

“Right. Of course.” You nodded, moving about the room to collect as much of your stuff as you could with shaking hands.

The rest of the week went by in a blur. You packed up all your things and took the soonest flight to Australia to try and forget about the fact that Pato had just thrown away years of being together for a fleeting chance at driving a stupid race car.

The fourth time you hear Oscar Piastri’s name, it’s on the other end of the phone.

The two weeks following your breakup are uneventful and entirely consist of you, the warm Australian sun, and the spare bedroom in your aunt and uncle’s house. You haven’t deleted any of your IndyCar posts, nor have you posted any more. In fact, you haven’t posted anything since the last time you were in Australia, only a few months ago. Your Instagram has become stagnant; a reflection of your real life. You haven’t told many people about your breakup, so you’re surprised when your phone rings. Even more so when you see who it is.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Oscar. Piastri,” he adds his last name like an afterthought, just like he did when he introduced himself in the garage.

“I know,” you say, pushing yourself into a sitting position on your bed. “Caller ID. Although you’re probably the last person I’d expect a call from.”

“Listen, are you not around anymore?” He asks, evidently not in the mood to beat around the bush. “I haven’t seen you, and you haven’t posted about IndyCar or anything.”

“Ah, um, yeah, no, I’m not.” You clear your throat uncomfortably. “Actually, Pato and I broke up. Well, he broke up with me. So, no reason for me to be around, I guess.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, his loud sigh crackling through the microphone. “I figured something was wrong. Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I’m uh… I’m sorry too. Seemed like you had a good thing going.”

“Thanks. Seemed that way for you, too,” he mumbles. “So… I guess things have really been sucking for both of us lately.”

“Pretty much.” You laugh.

“This is a terrible idea,” he begins after a moment of silence, “but are you in Australia right now?”

You debate lying to him, because it is a terrible idea, and you have a feeling you know what he’s going to say next. You don’t care. “I am.”

“Alright, well, it’s summer break for F1 right now, and to be honest you’re the only person I know that understands what I’ve been going through.”

“Are you asking me to be your wallowing buddy?” You ask.

“Something like that. My plan was pretty much along the lines of drowning our sorrows in alcohol.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and for some reason that does you in.

The fifth time you hear Oscar Piastri’s name, it’s through a cheap karaoke microphone.

You’ve lost count of how many days you’ve spent with him, and you feel like you’re still a little drunk from the night before when he breaks open a bottle of champagne.

“What is this, a celebration?” You ask, stretching your arms and legs out so you look like a starfish where you lay on the living room floor.

“It’s whatever the fuck we want it to be.” He takes two glasses and pours the champagne out.

You giggle at him while he dramatically sets them both down on the coffee table at your side. “You definitely pregamed before you got here.”

“I did not,” he protests, but you shake your head.

“No, no, you say curse words like that when you’re drunk.”

“Like what?”

“Like, ‘oh my God, this champagne is so fucking good.’” You mock him after taking a sip, and he starts laughing too.

“Fine, you caught me.” He throws his hands up. “I pregamed. But, I walked here, so who cares?”

You’re glad that your aunt and uncle are out for the night, because a few hours and countless glasses of champagne later find the both of you in the attic, discovering a karaoke microphone without a machine to match.

“Screw the machine, we don’t need the shitty machine,” Oscar rolls his eyes, watching you put batteries into the microphone. “We’ll just find something on YouTube. Does it work?”

You flip the switch and hold it up to your mouth. “HELLO? It works.”

You regret putting fresh batteries into it as soon as Oscar gets up to sing. You think that he might not be half bad if he’s sober, but drunk, his singing is absolutely insufferable. You would care if you weren’t equally as drunk as him. He pulls up a karaoke video of Last Friday Night by Katy Perry, only after getting you to swear on the lives of your entire family that you won’t tell anyone what you see or hear. You consider secretly recording him, but the second he starts, you’re practically folded in half from laughing so hard at his antics and the fleeting idea is gone.

He’s so dramatic with every lyric, like he’s trying to act all the words out while he’s singing about a stranger in his bed and pink flamingos in his (nonexistent) pool. When he gets to the part of the chorus talking about taking too many shots, he gestures for you to hand him the champagne bottle. You hand it over immediately and watch as he stops singing entirely to take a long drink straight from the bottle, ignoring how attractive he looks the whole while. You actually think that you’d really like to kiss him. You’re drunk, and you’re heartbroken. You just want to laugh and forget about it all. So when he chokes on the champagne for a moment and flounders to find where he’s supposed to be in the song, you do just that.

The song ends both too soon and not soon enough, and you give him a round of applause, chanting, “Encore!” a few times as he takes a bow.

“I’m Oscar Piastri,” he yells, “and I fucking hate relationships!”

You cheer loudly. “Speak on it!”

“Except I have a problem,” he says, all of a sudden dejected as he flops onto the couch beside you, still speaking into the mic. “I have a biiiig, huuuuge problem.”

“Tell the all-knowing, and she shall answer,” you turn onto your side to face him and reach out to… you don’t remember what you wanted to do. Maybe touch his cheek. Or his nose. Or his lips.

Your hand ends up resting on the top of his head, fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair.

“I think I might really like you,” he whispers, his words muffled by his lips smushing against the top of the mic. “Which is not good. I mean, it’s good, like, I think you’re amazing, but it’s not good, because I broke up and then you broke up, so we both broke up, but not with each other, with other people, and–”

You cut him off by taking the mic from him with your free hand and switching it off.

“Sorry.” He says, blinking at you slowly. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“We do,” you begin, petting his head. “Eventually. But not now. I am way too drunk to talk about this.”

This makes him start giggling, so you start giggling, and then you’re both cackling and clutching your stomachs.

You want to laugh, and forget about it, and you want to do it every single day with Oscar.

The first time you say the name Oscar Piastri, it’s while you’re laying in a hospital bed.

You’ve always been notorious for getting easily bruised, but breaking a bone is a first. Especially when it happens in the public eye.

You were only trying to make a cute, aesthetic TikTok showcasing your first race weekend as Oscar’s official girlfriend when you tripped and fractured your ankle in front of half the McLaren team. Not to mention the throng of fans mere feet away.

The two of you didn’t start dating until half a year after his drunken confession, and when you first started going out you had to be very discreet so fans didn’t expose the both of you before either of you were ready. Most of your dates ended up being at your aunt and uncle’s, which had become your home too once you got a job and started really getting yourself together after your breakup. He flew out to see you all the time, and as soon as he suggested that you come with him to the race of the season, you jumped on the opportunity. You didn’t think you’d ever go to a race again, but here you were. You were both happy, and you were both ready.

And now you’re fuming, mentally cursing yourself as you look down at your boot-covered ankle that has now effectively ruined your entire weekend.

Oscar comes rushing into the room, and you hold up a hand.

“Don’t tell me. Do not even tell me.” You shake your head. “Just tell me if it’s somewhat safe to go online or if I should just throw my phone out.”

“What?”

“I know people are talking about it. Oh, no.” Your eyes widen. “No, no. I’ve become a public embarrassment for you. I knew it. It only took me a few hours.” You cover your face with your hands. “Oh, my God… I am so sorry.”

“Again, what?” He asks, prying your hands away. “Baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, aside from that,” you gesture to the boot, glaring at it before your eyes shoot back up to him. “Wait a second, how did quali go? Did you do your media stuff already?”

“I’m starting P5. I came here right after, no media.” He rushes out, pulling up a chair so he can sit right next to you and hold your hand. “They’re letting you go, right?”

“Yeah, just have to do some paperwork and get a prescription– why didn’t you go to the media?”

“Because they told me you got hurt? And you needed to be hospitalized?” He says, like it’s obvious.

“Oz, you get fined for that!” You exclaim. “Oh, no, this is so bad! First I embarrass you– no, not just you, probably the entire team, and now you’re here and not there and you’re going to get in trouble… fuck, what if you get fired?!”

“Baby, baby,” Oscar laughs, grabbing both of your hands now. “I’ll get fined, but I’m not gonna get fired just because I skipped media one time. Zak was fine with it, if that makes you feel better.”

You’re still worried, and he can see it in your eyes.

“What’s got you so worked up about this?” He asks softly.

“I just… don’t want to be a risk towards your career.” You say, feeling ashamed that you can still hear Pato’s words from the day he broke up with you. Oscar knows immediately.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, leaning in and kissing you on the lips, and then your nose. “None of this means anything if I don’t have you.”

You’re still taking it slow, but this is the closest either of you have come to saying “I love you” without saying it, so you pull your hands from his and cup his cheeks to pull him into another kiss.

“Oscar Piastri, you are my whole world.”

Ten minutes later, Lando comes bursting into the room with such aggression that he almost faceplants, and he makes so much noise that a nurse runs into the room looking highly concerned.

So, you laugh, and you forget about it, and you do it with Oscar at your side, where you know he’ll stay for the rest of your lives.

note: this was a bitch to write. also i was gonna make a layout for this but i really wanted to post it tonight so it is sans layout and was edited like a half hour before it’s scheduled to post. all that being said, i hope u enjoyed!!

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever

#request #full fic #op81 week #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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gracieheartspedro · 10 months ago

Text

More Than Friends

how to help the Palestinian people

pairing: best friend!ellie williams x fem!reader (set in the jackson era)

description: you and ellie have been friends for awhile. while at a party for tommy’s birthday, you try to catch the attention of your crushes. sadly, they are all over each other. in a childish effort to get them to pay attention, you two try to make them jealous. 'cause that always ends the way you think, right?

word count: 3.3k words

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, smut, wlw, f!receiving oral (reader), fingering, jealousy, semi-public sex, dirty talk, tons of nicknames, no mentions of reader's appearance. talks of sexuality, but it's vague. reader wants to fuck whoever, it doesn't matter lol. let me know if I missed anything!

author's note: I wrote this after watching one too many ellie edits on tik tok. it was written in two hours, so it's not my finest work but it scratched my little ellie itch. okay, much love xoxoxoxxo

“So… you really like Dina, huh?”

Her face twists immediately at the question. She throws herself back in the wooden chair, cursing under her breath. Her arms cross over her chest, her t-shirt riding up a bit above her jeans.

You saw the way Ellie looked at Dina. She looks at her like she hung the moon. She was always fumbling over her words around her, nervous to say the wrong thing. When she did try to flirt, it came up awkward and strained. And you understood her predicament because you were the same way about Jesse.

You both were pining after two people in a committed relationship.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” She mumbles, gesturing towards the center of the room where Dina and Jesse slow danced. He was leaning down to whisper something in her ear and it made your stomach flip. “She would never go for me.”

You felt bad for Ellie. She was everything you wished you were yourself; beautiful and funny. You felt like you were the only one, besides the Millers, who got her dry humor. You two had met in class about two years ago, now. You were a newcomer to Jackson, arriving about two months prior with your mom. When you got seated next to Ellie, you could tell her give-no-fucks attitude would mesh well with your give-too-many-fucks attitude. Over the years, you two had really rubbed off one another. You two were inseparable.

“You’re the whole package, Els,” You say before nudging her shoulder with your elbow. You two are moping at a table near the exit of the food hall. It was Tommy’s birthday celebration, so everyone in Jackson got together to plan a big bash for him. Ellie felt obligated to come and your mom was pretty close to Maria. More time spent with your best friend wasn’t time wasted, so here you are.

“At least she shows you the time of day,” You say under your breath.

Jesse had been pretty flippant with you. He could never remember your name, let alone that you two shared the same street in Jackson. You also once shared a table at the mess hall. He was so tall and strong. Your crush on him was more physical than it was emotional. He was funny, sure, but you mainly just wanted to get him alone.

“Why are we doing this to ourselves?” She ponders, finally looking away from the canoodling couple across the room, “We could do so much better!”

You know she’s just trying to convince herself of something she doesn’t really believe. The tone of her voice changes when she’s lying.

“Like who? Slim pickin’s out here, Ellie. We have them and maybe 4 other undesirable people. There’s always the butcher’s son, he always had eyes for you.”

She grabs her cup from the table in front of you, “Yeah, men are… not my type.”

You turn your body so your legs are nudging her thighs, “Then, you really don’t have any choices.”

She nods her lips in a thin line. “I wish I could just.. Just go up there and talk to her. Ya know?”

“Why can’t you?”

“The same reason you can’t just go up and talk to Jesse.”

You roll your eyes, leaning forward on your knees. Your body is practically in her bubble, but she just sits back with her arm over the back of your chair.

You and Ellie had no real boundaries. You had no qualms about physical touch and Ellie never said anything or seemed to mind. You two have shared a horse countless times and even a bed. She never steered away from you.

“Well, Dina will talk to you if she sees other girls talking to you,” you state, reflecting on the last time everyone in Jackson got together. Some random girl came up to you two and as soon as Dina saw Ellie laughing with the other girl, she scrambled across the room to see what the fuss was about. You saw the same glint in her eyes that Ellie had.

For some reason, it made you kind of jealous.

You never tried to explore those knee-jerk emotions you had for Ellie. She was your best friend and you were positive she never felt romantic feelings towards you. Plus, you weren’t sure of your feelings about your sexuality. You always told Ellie you just liked who you liked, not really putting any importance on what was between their legs. You weren’t very experienced, but you had hooked up with both genders and liked it all equally.

“That was a coincidence, bug.”

That stupid nickname that she called you. Born from the one time you practically attracted every infected in the area with your scream over a huge beetle. She could not let it go and ended up calling you bug, just to annoy you.

You finally look up at her freckled face, waiting for her to crack a smile. When you squint at her with contempt, she smirks.

“Why don’t we find another girl and test the theory?”

She glances around the populated party, “Everyone here is over the age of 40.”

You turn back to the crowd of people around you and see that she’s right.

You mull it over, your brain working to find a way that you both could get their attention. You two could simply say fuck it and go watch a movie and forget this stupid encounter happened. Joel would probably chew Ellie out, but when doesn’t he do that?

Your next idea is something dangerous but something you had thought about before. You had never brought up the idea to Ellie because you were afraid of her reaction.

“What’s your idea?”

She could read you like a book. You pursed your lips, wondering if you should even propose the idea to her.

“How desperate are you?”

She laughs out loud, completely taken aback by the query. “Jesus, what are you thinkin’?”

You lick your lips, trying to make sure the idea comes out as a whisper.

“Why don’t we make them jealous? Just you and me?”

“How though?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Well, I’m a girl.”

You glance back at where Dina and Jesse were just dancing. They are both now facing you two’s direction, Jesse engrossed in a conversation with Tommy. Dina is just sipping from her glass, not really staring anywhere specific.

You look back at Ellie who’s also looking at her, but meets your eyes when your face gets closer to hers.

You would tell her how beautiful she was all the time and she just would roll her eyes and change the subject. You were physically attracted to her and there had been a couple of times you had thought about kissing her and wondered what her lips would feel like against yours.

But she was your best friend.

“Wrap your arm over my back,” You are still positioned, your elbows on your knees, your knees facing her thighs, “And rub it.”

She furrows her eyebrows, but she submits and brings the arm that is slouched over the chair to your lower back. You nod, watching as her lids lower. Her hand creeps up and down your side, her fingers grazing your ribs, up to your side boob. “Now what, bug?”

“Now, slowly move your hand up my back,” She does it as you’re speaking and the movement makes the hairs on your arms stand up, “Grab the nape of my neck.”

“Why are you making me do this?”

You lift up off your hands, bringing your face closer to hers. She doesn’t budge, sitting still and only focused on you and your words.

“Because,” Her hand grabs the back of your neck, before slowly bringing it forward to collar bone. The gentleness of her touch and the fact that it’s your Ellie, makes every sense heightened. You don’t even realize how her touch is making you feel until you see her crack a smile.

“Because why?” She whispers, her voice teasing.

“Cause I want them to see you touch me.”

It comes out needy and desperate. Her eyes change when it slips from your lips, instead of being playful, she’s looking at you like you’re her next meal. She leans forward, her face millimeters from yours.

You had never talked to Ellie like this but at this moment, you were completely transfixed on her. She was wearing a flannel over her shoulders covering her usual gray t-shirt. The sleeves were rolled up exposing the tattoo Cat did on her a year ago.

You always thought it was hot, the way it trailed up her arm from her delicate wrist.

Her jeans are ripped and her legs and man-spreaded like she was carrying something in her jeans.

And she smelled like pine. You loved it when you got the privilege to sleep next to her because her linens always smelled like her. You would love the idea of getting into bed with her right now.

“How do you want me to touch you?”

You chew the inside of your lip, “Any way you want to.”

She chuckles before brushing her hand down your exposed arm, “Is this for the bit or do you want me to genuinely touch you?”

You notice her being sincere. You think back to all the times you joked about sleeping with Ellie, and while at the time you chalked them up to being jokes, deep down, maybe it’s actually what you wanted.

With the way she’s looking at you now, you prayed on every star that she would continue pushing your buttons. That somehow she would forget Dina even exists and realize it was you all along.

“Hey guys,” Her voice brings you out of your horny daze. It was the last voice you were expecting, and you can tell by the look on Ellie’s face, she is thinking the same thing.

“Oh, hey Dina!” You quip up, not moving all the much to ensure she sees Ellie’s hand on your bicep.

“You two busy?” The way she asks is almost too demanding. You glance back over at Ellie whose color is draining from her face.

You shake your head, finally sitting up. Ellie’s hand doesn’t leave you though, instead, it just drops to your thigh. You try not to acknowledge it, as you notice Jesse coming up behind Dina. But now it feels so heavy against your legs, the weight of the situation finally hitting you.

It worked.

“We are just talking,” Ellie manages, her voice cracking.

Jesse comes up behind Dina, wrapping his arms around her. You’re suddenly grateful that Ellie’s hand is still on you, the jitters hitting your system subsiding by the physical feeling of her being so near.

“Looked like more than that,” Jesse jokes, his smile taking up a lot of his face, “You good Ellie?”

“Ellie was just telling me about the patrol she just went on with Jesse,” You explain quickly, making sure to look at Dina and not Jesse. “She told me about the infected y’all ran into!”

“Oh yeah, shit was crazy,” Jesse squeezes Dina tighter, “We gotta get back out there again, Ellie. You were a beast at taking those suckers down.”

“U-uh yeah, absolutely.”

You grab her hand as a reassurance. The exchange gets awkward quickly, none of you knowing what else to say.

“Well, we should get goin’,” Dina says tapping Jesse’s arms, “See you two around?”

You two just nod. They walk away, not saying much of anything else. You stare at the wall, humiliated by the last 10 minutes of your life. You were unsure if you could even look Ellie in the eyes again.

Ellie huffs loudly, sitting further back in her chair. “Well, that failed.”

You start to agree until that little bit of Ellie that’s rubbed off on you starts to come up your throat. The not-giving-much-of-a-fuck is creeping up on you.

“Did it? Because I think it went exactly how I wanted it to.”

You finally return your eyes to her bewildered expression. You pull her hand off your lap as you stand up, yanking her up after you.

“You wanted it to go like that? What was the point?”

You pull her closer to you before raising your lips up to her ear. Her hair is tucked behind the crest of her ear, so it tickles your nose a bit before you speak.

She turned you on, so now you needed her to do something about it. Here’s to not giving a fuck.

“The point was to get you to finally touch me.”

The temperature in the room rises a million degrees. Ellie’s eyes light up at the statement and you know that was exactly what she wanted to hear before Dina came up to you.

You start to pull her towards the kitchen door, right near your table. You remember finding a hidden supply closet back there last Christmas party. Your skin was on fire as you dragged her through the appliances to the somewhat large closet. It was practically empty, void of anything anyone at the party may need, so it was safe. Plus it had a lock.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, Ellie’s on you. Her lips hit yours and it was exactly how you imagined it. She was quick and eager with her kisses, her tongue plunging into your mouth immediately. She was grabbing your hips, pushing you towards the wall where all the brooms and mops were. You try not to trip, giggling as you pull her face closer to you.

“So this is what you wanted?” She pulls away from you for a breath, “Using making Dina jealous as a ploy to get to finally kiss you?”

Your hands find the spot above the hem of her jeans, right under her t-shirt. Out of instinct, you start to unbutton her pants.

“Actually, that wasn’t the plan.”

Her eyes are trained on your lips, “Is that so?”

“No, but you were playing the part way too well and I realized something.”

“What did you realize?”

The overhead light was so dim but you could still somehow see her cute freckles.

“That I want you more than I want anyone else. I need you to touch me more often.”

She chuckles, her fingers still pressed into your hips, “Well, bug, I’m touching you just like you asked.”

She drags kisses up your jaw and neck. You try not to fall apart over that alone. Ellie always talked about how inexperienced she was, but she’s probably the most tentative kisser you have ever encountered.

“Can you touch me here?”

You press your hands to the zip of your jeans. She looks down at your body to where you’re touching and she clicks her tongue.

“Ask politely, baby, and I’ll do anything you want.”

The nickname change makes your heart stop.

“Can you, my sweet best friend, touch me and get me off? Please?”

She groans at the question, a sound you never thought she’d make for you.

“Of course,” She grabs the belt loops of your pants before yanking them down your legs without resistance, “What are friends for?”

You know you’re soaked by the way she smiles up at you. She gets down on her knees, looking up at you, as her hands slowly start to spread your legs. You are standing against a wall, watching your best friend’s face creep close to your center.

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. She pulls at your panties, toying with the fabric before you take matters into your own hands and pull them down your legs.

She brings her lower lip between her teeth, “This wet for me?”

You could slap the stupid smirk off her face, but before you can even say something snarky back, she slips her digits between your glistening slit. Your body practically buckles at the prodding, so you brace yourself against the shelf next to you.

Your normal reaction to feeling good is to close your legs together tightly, but Ellie has her left hand mounted to your inner thigh, keeping you open for her, while the other one is slowly creeping up to your weeping hole. She’s gentle when she puts one finger inside you.

Once your body reacts around her, she pulls her finger out to inspect how wet you are. After she’s satisfied with her findings, she adds another which causes you to mewl at the sensation.

“Ellie, please,” You beg, trying to get more friction. She’s not letting you do anything but watch.

“Mmm,” She hums before moving her face closer to you, “Love to hear you moan my name, bug. You wanna be a good girl? Keep begging.”

You never took Ellie as someone who loves to hear her sexual partner beg, but it turns you on even more.

You watch her close in on your clit, her tongue finding the bud and flicking it a couple of times. The moans that come out of your mouth are so deprived. Her fingers slip so seamlessly in and out of you, that you try to remember a time you were so wet. Nothing comes to mind because all your brain is thinking is Ellie, Ellie, Ellie.

“Please, please,” you plead, trying your best to egg her on so she goes faster. It works because she picks up the pace fucking you. Her mouth suddenly closes around your clit, and she sucks.

Your one hand is still gripping onto whatever is next to you, but your other hand has to rest somewhere. Her short brown locks are right there, so you grab on.

Her mouth leaves your clit, and instead, her tongue licks up and down your weeping hole. When you bring her closer in, her nose starts to stimulate your sensitive bud.

The sounds are so wet and depraved, you’re sure the bubbling in your stomach is about to come to a tipping point. You find yourself grinding forward, trying to get friction on your clit again. Her nose prods the spot over and over again as you grind down onto her face.

Ellie hums as she fucks you, trying her best to push your limit. You know you’re close and you are sure she can feel how tight your pussy is gripping onto her fingers. She knows you’re close so she kicks it up a notch and shakes her head between your folds. That motion alone sends a tidal wave within you crashing to the shore. You pull her hair so hard, you know it probably hurts but fuck, you needed her to feel how good she was making you feel.

The white-hot feeling starts to subside and you are panting like you just ran a mile. You finally release Ellie’s head, letting her come up for air. Her lips are saturated with your slick and it looks like she’s drunk on you by the way her eyes are half shut. She pulls her two fingers out of your tight hole, making you whine at the emptiness.

She stands up, bringing her two fingers up to your lips.

“Wanna see how good you taste?”

She’s so fucking dirty. It gets you so riled up.

You grab onto her wrist and bring the fingers up to your mouth. You suck them dry, giving into how absurd this is.

“You’re a freak, too,” She beams at you, before bringing you into another feverish kiss. You were so mesmerized by her. She grabs onto your hips, pulling your naked bottom half to her still-clothed legs.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” You grumble, still recovering from the drilling you just had. Her hands travel up your sides, under your t-shirt. She is holding onto your ribcage, looking at your exposed tummy as the shirt rides up.

“I didn’t think you’d go for me, especially when guys like Jesse are your type,” She explains, so enthralled by the way your body looks to her, “I don’t know if I can let him have you, now.”

You smirk, your hands twisting around her shoulders, “Oh, I see. Well, if he can’t have me, then Dina can’t have you.”

“Well, thank God they have each other, then.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams oneshot #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #the last of us 2 #gracieheartspedro #tlou ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year ago

Text

Yandere Daemon/Rhaenyra Targaryen w/Rhaenyra's Twin!Sister Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)

❝ — 🐉 lady l: this is weirdly long but I needed to get it out of my head! This is based on a concept they sent me a while ago. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: incest, slight nsfw, obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, mention of pregnancy.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!daemyra x rhaenyra's twin sister!reader.

You were Rhaenyra's twin, born a few minutes after her, and because of that, she always had a strong instinct to protect you, to take care of you and she always does. All your life, it was you and Rhaenyra against the world. And this arrangement always left you satisfied, you loved your sister and she loved you fervently in return.

Rhaenyra has always been very persuasive and for as long as you can remember she would convince you of anything; breaking rules, running away, stealing cake from the kitchen and getting into trouble. She didn't care, she valued you deeply and wanted to spend all her time with you.

Aemma and Viserys sometimes went crazy with the two of you being so naughty, but in the end, they always joined you. Aemma tried to be a little tougher with you both, but she always gave in eventually. Viserys didn't even try.

Rhaenyra was very possessive too, because you were her twin sister, she always felt entitled and that you belonged to her. After all, you shared the same womb and were born together, you belonged to her, in a way.

She was always quite bold and direct, and was often reprimanded for it. Rhaenyra knew she loved you more than she should have, but you were Targaryens, according to the traditions of your house and family, there was nothing wrong with her being in love with you. It was just the Targaryen way.

The only problem was that you were a woman. Not for her, that would never be a problem, but for others it would. She couldn't marry you and have you officially and it tore her apart inside.

That didn't mean she hid what she felt from you, because once she knew what she felt, Rhaenyra went to your room, which was next to hers, and confessed to you. It was embarrassing and a little awkward, but she was being sincere and it touched you.

You felt the same way about her too and it was eating you alive not being able to tell her, but she took the first step and you felt grateful. You didn't have any kind of experience, but you knew some things. The first kiss was sloppy and a little awkward, but it was understandable given the lack of experience between the two of you, but it was a precious moment,

You just kissed and hugged for a while, not knowing how to proceed. Until Daemon returns to King's Landing after winning the war in the Stepstones. You always liked your uncle, even though he caused a lot of trouble, he entertained you. And the feeling was mutual.

Daemon knew there was something between you and Rhaenyra, he very quickly noticed the looks and subtle touches you exchanged. It wasn't something platonic, he knew that and he wanted to know more.

During the night of Daemon's return, you had gone to Rhaenyra's room, as you always did, and there you found, along with her, some clothes left by your uncle and a note. Although your mind was full of doubts, you changed and followed your sister, who seemed excited for some reason.

Meeting up with Daemon, you explored a bit of King's Landing and before you knew it, you were in a brothel. You observed your surroundings with curiosity and interest, men and women doing intimate things.

When Daemon kissed Rhaenyra, you felt mixed feelings; surprise and jealousy being the biggest one. You would maybe scream at him when he kissed you, his experienced and strong lips yours, leaving you weak. You felt a desire rise within you.

His touches were strong and good, he knew what he was doing and you felt numb as he explored your body with his hands. Rhaenyra watched everything curiously. But something had changed inside him, as Daemon decided to stop touching you and left you and Rhaenyra alone in the brothel. You wanted to kill him here.

You and Rhaenyra returned to the Red Keep, sneaking out so you wouldn't be found and you both knew you wouldn't be able to sleep after witnessing what you saw. So, it was that night that you went further and had sex for the first time.

It wasn't something shy, but rather intimate. You had no experience, but it was good. Rhaenyra touched your body with care and her tongue loved your most sensitive parts, she quickly learned how to pleasure you. You reciprocated the pleasure as best you could, with your face buried between her legs, eliciting sighs and moans from her.

The following days were tortuous. Viserys had found out about your escapade and Daemon had been exiled and Rhaenyra was forced to marry Laenor. You would also have to get married, but your husband had not yet been chosen. Your sister's wedding was a painful time for you and her, the two of you constantly exchanging glances and Daemon had returned to the wedding, widowed and with your father's very reluctant permission, you and Daemon had gotten married.

After the wedding, you were forced to separate from Rhaenyra and you lived in Pentos with Daemon. You had learned to love your husband and he loved you, so it wasn't bad. Your heart ached to be away from your twin sister, but you were happy with your husband.

Daemon wasn't that bad, at least to you. He was loyal and treated you with kindness and respect, loving every part of you and comforting you when you were in pain. His kisses were more demanding and dominant, just like sex. Although very possessive and sometimes annoying, Daemon took care of you the best way he could.

Daemon had a lot of experience and knew how to please you, his fingers dipped between your legs and his mouth on your breasts or when he was buried in your heat he made you scream with pleasure.

You and Rhaenyra exchanged letters and a few years passed and children were born. You had two daughters with Daemon, twins, and Rhaenyra had had three sons. You met again at your cousin Laena's funeral, and a weight was lifted from your shoulders when she pulled you into a hug and held you, not wanting to let you go.

The three of you found yourself in a part away from all the whining and all the longing was broken. Words were exchanged, mainly between Daemon and Rhaenyra and when there was nothing more to be said, the clothes were removed and you made love on the floor, the longing prolonging the reunion.

Unbeknownst to you, while you were sleeping, Rhaenyra and Daemon met and actually talked. They knew they both loved you deeply and wanted you and were willing to cooperate and the best way was for you to get married in a traditional valyrian ceremony. With the plans made, Laenor was "eliminated".

You were shocked and saddened by your cousin's death, but you felt relieved because it now meant that Rhaenyra would be free.

During one afternoon, you, Daemon and Rhaenyra were married in a traditional valyrian ceremony, where you could be officially married. You became Rhaenyra's wife and she became yours and Daemon's. Finally you were complete and when the kiss was given, sealing the union, you knew there was more to this marriage.

The wedding with your uncle and sister would prove to be one of your fondest memories after the tragedy that followed over the next few years.

But for now, you would enjoy your possessive and protective husband and wife as much as you could, because only the gods know it won't be for long.

#a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #hotd #asoiaf #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere daemyra #yandere daemon x reader x rhaenyra #yandere daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x reader x rhaenyra #daemyra x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #yandere headcanons #Daemon Targaryen x reader #Rhaenyra targaryen x reader

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wongyuseokie · 5 months ago

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Teardrops On My Guitar | h.j.s

Summary: You loved him, but he was your best friend. While he sometimes blurred the lines, he never saw you more than that. Since he was your best friend and you were so in love, you’d break yourself apart for him. You watched him fall in love with everyone, but you only question for how long? ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 19,760 words

Pairings: Joshua Hong x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Unrequited Love AU! (don’t say I didn’t warn you; this really won’t be a nice one). Slice of Life AU! Fluff, Angst, Smut (the holy trinity, if you will)

Content Warnings: Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments, toxic coping mechanisms, smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this). Smut Warnings: Fingering, oral (male and female receiving). multiple orgasms, squirting, hand jobs. Body insecurities, bitchy drama from other girls (let's lift each other up). Slut-shaming. Authors Note 1: I think All Too Well was painful for me to write because that was the story about how a relationship that I deemed perfect fell apart, but this one hurts me more because this is a story I hate reliving so much. After all, this is the story of how I fell in love with my best friend and how I never told him (sort of), but now I had to watch him fall in love with everyone but me. This story is a letter to myself back then. I wish I loved myself more back then.

Author’s Note 2: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe. Authors Note 3: Thank you so much to the following people for reading this for me @shuadotcom @gyuwoncheol @okiedokrie @wonuvs

High school sucked. It was a universal truth.

But you felt like some days it sucked for you more than it did for others. You felt awkward, you didn’t make friends easily – if ever. You basically had just two friends, while every morning on the school bus, you’d hear chatter about someone getting drunk or kissing someone at a party.

You would have to take a deep breath and pretend you didn’t care. But you didn’t even have enough friends to hold a party, let alone be invited to one. Hell, you couldn’t remember the last time you partied.

You even celebrated your birthday with your parents last year, entering the fifteenth year of your life in your bedroom, watching movies and spending time with your parents. And you didn’t really mind it. You just wished you had someone who wanted to spend time with you.

The worst thing was hearing about other girls your age having lavish birthdays, having their first kiss, and whatnot made you realise that you had no experience of any of that. This sucked completely,considering that everything felt like a competition in high school.

Who could get their first kiss before anyone else? Who could lose their virginity first? Forget virginity; you had never even kissed a guy. A proper kiss. Not a stupid peck, but an adequate kiss – one of those you saw in movies.

You were convinced that the only way you’d ever get your first kiss would be if you were granted a magical makeover where the universe would give you a new face, a slimmer body, and more proportionate features.

Your mother said you were pretty, but what mother wouldn’t? Some stupid boys in your high school took it upon themselves to tell you throughout your entire middle school years how undesirable you were. They would pretend that their eyes burnt if they saw you and they acted like you were Medusa. In some ways, you could relate. You, too, felt like you had a curse that wasn’t your fault either. You tried all the beauty hacks, scrubbing your face with homemade sugar scrubs and buying concealers that were too light to wear, all because you just wanted to be pretty.

Feel a little worthy.

Now that you were older, you knew their hurtful words were untrue. And no, you didn’t suddenly have an epiphany and start believing you were a beauty queen, but you knew not to take such awful comments to heart. Yet, you couldn’t help how they’d sometimes seep into your mind.

However, as you stood outside your dorm room as a fresher at university, you couldn’t help but wish this was your chance to begin again. You had a new start; no one here knew you from high school; you weren’t back in your small town; you were in the city. You could start over.

Your bullies, past, and insecurities didn’t follow you here, so maybe this would be the time you’d finally be able to restart. Get a new lease on life.

“Oof, sorry,” a voice apologised as its owner bumped into you, making you look up from the floor. You were met with dark brown eyes filled with kindness, compassion, and, at this moment, regret for bumping into you.

You looked away from the stranger’s eyes to take him in. He was tall and devastatingly handsome, with a giant grin adorning his handsome face, and you immediately felt like you were thrown back into high school. Guys like him would either mock your appearance or ignore you, pretend you were a wallflower.

Girls like you didn’t get guys like him.

You immediately looked to the ground and mumbled an apology.

“Hey, what are you apologising for? I bumped into you, and I bumped into my flatmate. Nice to meet you. I’m Joshua!” The handsome man introduced himself, holding his hand to you, and you accepted it gingerly as you shook it.

“What’s your name?” Joshua asked.

“Y/N,” you replied.

“Well, I’m excited for fresher’s week! I think it’s so cool that we get to live in co-ed living spaces and get to be adults. I’m also glad that our rooms both have an ensuite, thank fuck. Not the biggest fan of sharing bathrooms,” Joshua rambled, then laughed when he saw your confused expression.

“Sorry, oversharing with my neighbour within a second of bumping into you isn’t the best first impression, is it?” Joshua joked, and you shrugged, shooting him a smile.

“Okay, well, I got to finish moving in, but will you be coming across the hall for the freshers’ party? I have a couple of friends I’m going with, but I’d love for you to join us! Unless you already have plans?” Joshua asked.

You shook your head, stunned. Was this reality?

Someone willingly invited you somewhere, not out of force or school obligation but because they wanted to ask you.

“I’d like that,” you finally answered, making Joshua smile.

“Well, Y/N, apparently freshers have been told to wear comfy footwear, whatever that means, but how about I knock at your door at nine, and we can leave together?” Joshua offered, and you nodded as you hurried back into your room, slamming the door behind you.

You were beyond confused. You had plenty of outfits to choose from, but the one time you wore a skirt to your high school disco, you heard a few comments calling you a try-hard and an attention seeker, so you went home and threw the skirt into the back of your closet never to be seen again. And now, that skirt was in your hands again, reminding you of crappy memories and the fact it was impractical as it had no pockets.

You decided to wear jeans instead. Jeans were a safe option. You chose a black, strappy top with some sequins and threw on a black leather jacket.

The outfit was inspired by several hours of Pinterest-related shopping you did before arriving at university. You wanted a fresh start, which also meant fresh outfits. You wanted everything to be new.

You grabbed your white striped Converse and put them outside, on the floor next to the foot of your university bed, a modest single. You also decided to shower, shave and exfoliate. You didn’t think Joshua would find you remotely attractive, but you wanted to at least feel somewhat pretty.

A couple of hours later, you were putting on your silver hoops when you heard a knock on your door.

“It’s open,” you said and smiled at Joshua as he walked into your room in tight-fitted jeans and a loose black tee tucked in and completed with a black belt.

“You look nice,” Joshua complimented.

You hissed as you poked your ear with your earring at his compliment. “Ouch!” you yelped.

Joshua’s eyes widened as he approached you, taking the earring out of your hand and helping you to put it on. “Did I startle you or something?” he asked, his voice too close to you, breath fanning over your neck.

“I just… I don’t get compliments, so yeah, I guess you did,” you admitted, feeling stupid for admitting something like that to a perfect stranger. He would probably think you were weird now and walk away.

“Well, that’s a shame. You deserve plenty,” Joshua said genuinely as he squeezed your shoulder, smiling widely at you.

And for the first time in so long, you felt like there was hope for your heart, and for you to find and experience everything you never got to in high school.

The void in your heart… maybe Joshua could be one who could fill it.

“Oh, Y/N, by the way! They’re having a flat party. Everyone said that the freshers’ party is usually kind of boring and that nothing much happens. They were talking about things like safe sex, and I’m sure we’re all tired of that conversation from high school,” Joshua joked as you two walked out of your shared dorm and across the hall where you stood as he informed you of the flat party.

“How many people will be there, though?” you asked, feeling insecurity and fear flood your system. You didn’t want a ton of eyes on you in your outfit. You didn’t want to hear the whispers that would inevitably make you curl up and cry into your pillow all night.

“I think twenty, give or take. It’ll be our flat and the one across ours,” Joshua replied, and you pondered over the thought of meeting nineteen new people – people who could judge, mock and make fun of you.

“Hey, you’re my next-door neighbour—well, our doors are opposite one another—you are now my friend, and I’ll keep you protected. If anyone tries shit, I’ll smack them,” Joshua vowed, making you giggle.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, smiling as he watched you giggle.

“I just tried to imagine you even trying to beat someone up,” you replied, wiping the tears of laughter that collected in your eyes, making Joshua laugh at you.

“Oh, but I am fiercely loyal. Trust me, when it comes to protecting those I care about, I’ll fight,” Joshua said seriously.

You nodded, following him across the hall to the other flat as you two walked into the kitchen, where drinks were being poured, and you could tell several people were already quite drunk. You swore you saw a couple exchange a few kisses.

“Hi, we’re from flat 2A! Our flatmates told us about the party!” Joshua introduced himself, and one of the guys, who introduced himself as Jeonghan, approached you and Joshua.

“Well, 2A, welcome to flat 2B! We do have alcohol to spare, but if you want more, you’ll have to bring your own,” Jeonghan explained, the smile never leaving his face, and Joshua nodded as he brandished a bottle of soju from his coat pocket.

“I’ve got us sorted,” Joshua grinned, and Jeonghan smiled again as he welcomed you two.

“Y/N, have a seat next to me. We 2A’s need to stick together,” Joshua joked as he guided you to the black couches, where he helped introduce you to the other students. You exchanged several words with Nia and felt she could be a good friend. She had kind eyes and a soft smile, something you were never used to ever seeing.

“Alright, I’m bored. Can we play a drinking game? It’s the easiest way to get to know one another,” another girl, whose name you couldn’t recall, complained, immediately grinning when everyone agreed.

You could see she had no actual malice. She just wanted to party. Not everyone you’d meet in life would be your high school bully. This was something you’d have to remind yourself of during every interaction.

“Okay, what do you want to play, Nia?” Jeonghan asked as he joined her.

“Truth or dare! But take a shot if you want to skip the dare or truth?” Nia suggested.

Everyone nodded–including you, even if your heart beat wildly in your chest. What if someone asked you something like if you were a virgin? You’d lie, but the stammering would give it away. Then again, you had been a wallflower all your life. No one would ever pick you, you convinced yourself as you took a large sip of Jeonghan’s concoction.

It tasted more like he poured pure alcohol in and sprinkled in some diet coke to mask the fact he did not know how to mix a damn drink, but it was a drink you were thankful for. It gave you a nice buzz, lowering your inhibitions and fears.

“Okay,” Jeonghan said after three rounds. Everyone had a pretty good buzz, and the questions and dares were getting more unfiltered and scandalous with each game. “Joshua, I dare you to give Y/N a peck on the lips,” Jeonghan said smugly, making you gulp and swallow the remainder of your drink.

As you sighed, you didn’t think the party would come to this, but you realised you were fooling yourself. People would always care about this, and you didn’t fancy being a laughingstock.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going?” Jeonghan asked, genuine concern lacing his voice. Joshua stood up, shooting Jeonghan a slight glare.

“I just, uh, want to go to bed; you know the alcohol has hit me,” you mumbled quickly as you nearly ran out of the flat and straight back to yours. You rushed into your room, taking a seat on your bed as you took deep breaths.

It was okay; he wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow, and you’d avoid it if needed.

“You should lock your door, you know,” Joshua’s voice startled you as you stood up from your bed at his sudden presence.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, and you nodded, knowing there was nowhere to run.

Then again, there was that large window… But if you leapt out of it, you’d fall into a bush of poison ivy, so you decided to take the scarier option of engaging in conversation.

“I’m sorry if Jeonghan went too far with that dare,” Joshua apologised as he sat down on your bed, and you sighed, shaking your head, joining him.

“No, it’s just… I didn’t want to make you feel repulsed by doing something you didn’t want to do,” you admitted.

Joshua turned to face you. “That’s the last thing I’d feel if I kissed you. You’re so beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to kiss you,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I wouldn’t know what to do,” you admitted, causing him to smile softly at you.

“May I?” Joshua asked, and your breath hitched, knowing what he meant, “not because I feel obliged, but because I want to,” he added, and you finally nodded, making him smile as he moved closer to place his soft lips on yours.

You didn’t know what to do, so you followed his movements, the way he moved his mouth ever so slowly against yours. He was kissing you like you were made of glass, and it made you feel like you were a crystal sculpture.

Fragile yet beautiful, his kiss made you feel worthy. Joshua smiled as he pulled away.

“Wow,” you whispered.

“Wow?” he asked, and you nodded.

“I’ve never had a kiss like this, just a stupid peck. But this one felt like a real kiss, so yeah… this one felt nice,” you admitted as Joshua nodded. “Sorry if I didn’t know what I was doing or it sucked, though, I just—oomph,” your rambling was cut off by his lips as they pressed against yours again.

You felt him smirk against your lips as he pulled away slowly. “You were fine,” Joshua clarified, and you nodded at him. “Look, the party isn’t over, and more people have joined. I think they’re playing music, and they’ve dimmed the lights, so if you want, we can go back?” he offered, smiling at you.

You hesitated.

“Or I can grab another bottle of soju, and we can put a movie on? Or I can leave you alone?” Joshua offered.

You smiled at him. “How about a movie?” you chose.

Joshua nodded with a grin. “Be right back! Let me go get the bottle of soju from my room. You pick the movie, but nothing horror,” he added as he left your room.

You smiled in his wake.

This was your new beginning. You could start afresh.

Two weeks in, lectures had started. Joshua had become your partner in crime, your closest friend. You had also grown closer to Jeonghan and Nia; they had become part of your little friendship group, and you felt wanted and included for the first time.

You felt needed, seen, and appreciated. It was everything you ever wanted.

“Yo!” Joshua yelled, barging into your room one evening while you were reviewing your lecture material for the following day.

“Do you bother knocking anymore?” You chuckled, shaking your head as Joshua got comfortable on your bed, kicking off his shoes as he lay down.

“No. Friends don’t bother with formalities,” he told you smugly, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Why are you here, anyway? I thought you and Jeonghan wanted to go to a social?” you asked him.

“Yes, but apparently, Jeonghan and Nia decided to go on a date or something, I don’t know,” he mumbled, making your eyes widen.

“Wait, what?” you exclaimed, and Joshua shrugged.

“I don’t know. Nia didn’t give me a straight answer, just kept blushing, and Jeonghan just smirked,” he answered as he shrugged off his leather jacket and threw it to the floor.

“Shua, are you planning on crashing or something?” you asked, putting your pen down and turning to face him, and he grinned at you.

“Come on, it’s movie night,” Joshua whined playfully, making you smile.

“Oh, shut up, you’re only here because Jeonghan ditched your ass, and I’m the second choice,” you joked, but you couldn’t help the thread of insecurity that weaved its way into you.

“See, normally, I’d let that slide, but I know you might take that to heart. Hey, I live across the hall from you, and you’re one of my closest friends here, okay? I don’t want you ever to think that you’re my second choice,” he assured you softly as he got up to wrap his arms around you.

That was a new thing you got used to: Joshua’s extreme affection - his need to touch and feel loved through the act of touch. It was new to you, but you weren’t entirely mad either. It felt nice being wanted and being a source of comfort to him.

“Now, stop doodling flowers on your lecture notes and join me. I want to watch something,” he teased, and you nodded, smiling shyly as you saw the flowers etched into your work.

“Shall we do a Pixar night?” He then suggested.

“Always,” you smiled, nodding as you joined him on the bed.

As you sat down, Joshua immediately pulled you to his side. Soon enough, he was curled into you as he held you during the movie, either babbling nonsense or pointing out things you never knew existed in the film. You loved that about him, you thought to yourself. You loved his ability to see the beauty in everything.

You paused as you stared blankly at the screen.

Was that it? Did you love him?

Were you falling for your best friend?

The man who took you seriously for once and made you feel seen, were you falling in love with him?

You knew you were falling for the man who could see the beauty in everything.

You wondered hard that night… would he be able to see the beauty in you?

“So, how was your date with Jeonghan then?” you asked Nia, who had just sat across you with her breakfast.

She shook her head. “It wasn’t a date. I needed to talk to Jeonghan, that’s all,” Nia explained, and you nodded at her.

“You two would make a cute couple, though?” You joked, earning a scoff from Nia.

“What would you know about relationships? Aren’t you forever single or something?” she snapped at you out of nowhere, making you feel like all your progress with your friends over the past month crumbled in a second.

“I…” You opened your mouth to defend yourself until you realised Nia was right. You were no one to give anyone any relationship advice.

“That’s what I thought. So keep your comments to yourself. Just because you kissed Joshua once does not mean you know a thing,” she added unnecessarily, her words pouring more salt into the wounds you kept so hard to keep closed.

Why did Nia know that Joshua had kissed you? And why was she using it as an insult? Did she find it laughable, or did Joshua embellish the story and tell them that he only ever kissed you because you were like a wounded puppy, and he felt sorry for you?

“I need to go,” you mumbled before speeding away, feeling nauseous as you returned to the dorms.

Would Joshua ever hurt you like that? You didn’t think so, but guys like him were never meant to be with girls like you.

“Yo, what’s up?”

You heard Joshua’s voice as you walked into the standard room, and instead of reacting like you usually did, you ducked out of the room and ran to your own. Just as you were about to close the door, Joshua’s large hand pushed between the space and wedged himself into your room.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked.

You sighed, not realising that the tears had fallen down your face. “Nothing,” you mumbled weakly, earning an eye roll from Joshua as he grabbed your books out of your hands and placed them on your desk.

He then held your hand as he walked you to your bed and sat you down. “What happened? I know something did. I’ve seen your happy tears, and these aren’t them. What’s wrong?” he repeated, his hands moving to cup your face.

“Fuck, Shua! How did Nia know about us kissing that night?” you burst out, making Joshua frown.

“Fuck, I was talking to Jeonghan. I didn’t think he’d blab to her. Why, what did she do?” he asked.

“I just… I was teasing her about Jeonghan and her going on a date, and she got annoyed. So I thought to diffuse the tension, I’d joke and say that she and Jeonghan would make a cute couple. She lashed out at that. She asked me what I would ever know about relationships, as I’m a forever single girl. Then, when I couldn’t say anything, she said, “Just because I kissed you, I shouldn’t assume that I know anything,” you admitted, feeling more tears falling down your face as you recalled the comments.

“What the fuck? Why would she say that? Listen, you can always give relationship advice without being in one, okay? I’ll find out what’s wrong with her, but what she said is so beyond fucked up,” Joshua snarled. You could tell he was angry.

“That’s not necessary, Shua. But… I want to know why Jeonghan even knew about the kiss,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he sat down next to you. “I’m sorry. We were just chatting, and it slipped,” he apologised.

“Well, you should be more careful. It’s not fucking okay to do that,” you muttered.

Joshua’s eyes widened at your tone. “Why? Is it embarrassing to kiss me?” he accused, and you stared at him in shock.

“Oh, don’t even go there. You know I’m the one people laugh at and look at funny. The one everyone knows got a pity invite. And now they all probably think that you kissed me out of pity, too, and now they’re laughing at me!” you ranted, making Joshua scoff at you.

“I don’t know that much. You don’t let me in about a lot in your personal life or your past, but no one pities you here. No one thinks that—only you do,” Joshua commented, making you feel small.

“We all have a past, and I’m not trying to fucking invalidate yours, but you need to get over whatever happened to you in high school. This is a fresh start, so instead of victimising yourself every chance you get, maybe get out of that self-pity bubble you’ve trapped yourself in and realise that people might give a fuck about you! But if you keep wallowing and crying over stupid shit like this, then no one will want to be your friend for real,” he huffed out.

When you didn’t speak, Joshua looked up to see how you looked even more devastated than when you came in initially crying over Nia’s comments; he had made you cry more.

“Y/N—” Joshua started to say, but you shook your head at him.

“You’re right. I’m being a pain in the ass,” you mumbled, making Joshua groan.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say, but if that’s how you keep taking it, then sure, you might as well be,” he added, and you nodded.

“Can you leave? I have an assignment due tomorrow,” you mumbled, getting off your bed and walking to your desk, turning your back to Joshua, making it clear you wanted to be left alone.

Joshua felt like a complete moron. He knew he was being a dick, but he didn’t like how you spoke in riddles. He didn’t like that. He wanted proper sentences, and you gave him emotion but no real problem.

Joshua tossed and turned in his bed that night. What was your past? Why were you always suspicious of anyone who wanted to be your friend? Why were you always so guarded?

He didn’t bother taking the time to look at the clock. Instead, he jumped out of bed and out of his room across the hall and pounded on your door until you opened it, glaring at him.

“You could have woken up the entire fucking flat,” you hissed as you let him in.

“Tell me,” Joshua breathed out, and you stared at him, confused.

“Tell you what?” you asked.

“What happened in your past?” He asked as he sat on your bed, immediately getting comfortable under your blanket.

“Didn’t you, just like, a few hours ago, oh, I don’t know, tell me to not wallow in my sadness and that I should get over it?” you mocked.

Joshua sank, shaking his head for a second and holding his hand to you. “Sit. Tell me. Look, I was careless with my words. I just wanted you to stop feeling terrible. But instead of saying that or taking measures to ensure that, I lashed out. I don’t like seeing people sad, but I can be quite clueless when helping them out,” Joshua admitted. You nodded, sitting on the bed but not taking his hand to make a point.

“I don’t know what it was about me, whether it was my hair, skin or whatever… Maybe I had a goofy smile? And I guess no one liked that? Maybe? I don’t know. All I know is that the kids in my school suddenly decided that I wasn’t worth being friends with,” you started out, struggling to keep your voice steady as you recalled your painful memories, opening old wounds that you had only wrapped in gauze, never adequately healing them.

“All these students… they would never include me in games or let me sit at their table during lunch, so I’d play alone, eat alone. And then, one year, a group of guys thought it’d be great to act like I was so hideous that they’d cover their eyes for fear of being burned by my ugly face or something,” you mumbled.

You noticed Joshua’s jaw clench out of the corner of your eyes.

“That went on for a year, the calling me ugly things, but the general feeling and act of being excluded from everything happened and continued until the last day of school. If I’m being honest, everyone just acted as if I inconvenienced them, so I carry that, Shua. I assume I’m always a burden no matter where I go.”

“I fucking hate that, but, and I ask this not to blame you, but out of genuine curiosity and concern, did no one know?” Joshua asked.

You sighed.

“Teachers weren’t blind. They knew, but if no one was physically attacking me, they kept their mouths shut. I told a counsellor, and her advice to me was that I should seek compassion for those who bully me because they’re probably victims of bullying themselves,” you scoffed, recalling the god-awful advice the counsellor gave you.

“What about your parents?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“Never, no. I mean, I’m sure they guessed. I never had any birthday parties, but I didn’t want to tell them,” you mumbled.

“Why?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged.

“I felt stupid because everyone else in school could make friends; they could go a full day without being bullied or mocked or made fun of, and I couldn’t, and I didn’t want to burden them,” you admitted, letting out a muffled sob.

“They’re your parents; they wouldn’t think you’re being a burden. You’re their daughter,” Joshua offered, and you shrugged.

“I wore a skirt to a school disco once, and all the others could do was point out how funny I looked. Everything and anything I did in school, I felt like a hundred eyes watching me, waiting for me to fuck up,” you explained, taking a deep breath.

“All through school, I lived like that, so forgive me for being cautious when a new guy—especially a guy like you—openly welcomes me as his friend,” you mumbled, making Joshua quirk his brows at you.

“A guy like me?” Joshua asked.

“A hot and handsome guy. A guy like you would be the boyfriend of one of the pretty girls, someone like Nia. You’d be with her, and you two would give me sickly sweet smiles before laughing at me the minute my back was turned, and I – I guess I know you’re not that kind of a person, but when Nia snapped at me and used the fact you kissed me as an attack… it felt like that I was back in high school,” you admitted.

“I see,” Joshua said before turning you around to face him. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to be honest with me, okay?” Joshua asked. You nodded. “Did you think I was mocking you when I told Jeonghan we kissed?” he asked.

You nodded slowly. “I know you wouldn’t, but… I have a past where guys that looked like you and Jeonghan would mock me, and girls like Nia would get guys like you while I sat on the sidelines and watched,” you reasoned, and Joshua nodded.

“You’ve survived a lot, and I’m sorry you even had to go through it in the first place, but please know one thing: I’m not going to ever hurt you like that,” Joshua said, kissing your hand softly.

“I kissed you that night because I wanted to, not because I felt pity or anything. Girls like Nia… I don’t know what to make of that sentence, but I kissed you, not her. I find you beautiful, and I’ll gladly go blue in the face repeating it to you,” Joshua proclaimed, making you smile.

“It’s not out of pity either. I wish you could see yourself the way I do one day,” he inched forward.

“Can I?” He finally asked.

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his soft lips on yours. Moments later, Joshua pulled away and smiled at you.

“You’re beautiful. And I hope you’ll understand that every time I kiss you, it’s not because I have an ulterior motive but because I want to.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply blushed and smiled at him, nodding.

“Now cuddle me. I want to sleep, and I know you don’t have an assignment tomorrow, considering you messaged me saying freedom in capitals,” Joshua joked as he pulled you into his arms.

You couldn’t help but melt at the fact that he remembered that little detail that would haunt you and make you overthink everything Joshua would ever do.

You had never slept next to a boy before. Let alone wake up with his arms wrapped around your waist and his leg thrown over yours. But here you were the following day – laying in Joshua’s vice-like embrace.ou moved slightly to get up, and you thought you were successful until you heard Joshua let out a soft moan.

You froze. You were sure that was just a regular moan he would let out in his sleep until he moved his leg, and you felt his hardness against your inner thigh. You might have never felt the touch of another pair of lips on yours until a month ago, but you weren’t an idiot. You could tell an erection when you felt one. You knew Joshua was turned on. But then again, you recalled reading that sometimes men just get hard for no reason.

That was it, you thought to yourself. It wasn’t because he was attracted to you; it was simply because there was a concept known as ‘morning wood’, and Joshua was prominently exhibiting it. Still, you couldn’t help feeling butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t help the arousal you felt start to pool in your panties.

You were a virgin, not a moron; you knew what was happening to you. And you needed Joshua to leave as soon as possible so that you could take care of the problem he caused.

“Joshua,” you mumbled, trying to move away from him, which only made him move against you more, allowing his length to brush against your inner thigh over and over. He was incredibly long, is what you gathered. Very well endowed.

“Stop moving,” Joshua mumbled sleepily as he pulled you tighter to him, moving his hips again as his length brushed against you, this time dangerously close to your aching cunt. You knew you needed to stop him before it escalated, and he regretted it.

“Shua!” you yelped, pinching him, making him groan as he jolted awake, glaring at you as you broke free from his embrace.

“Woman, will you let me sleep?” Joshua complained, his morning voice doing nothing to ease the ache in your pussy. It was so husky and deep… You wanted that voice to wake up to every morning for the rest of your life.

“Not until that goes away!” you blurted out, making Joshua look at you funny until he followed your gaze down to his cock–his very hard cock.

“Oh fuck! Well… this is just a normal thing,” Joshua said, chuckling, and you knew you hated how that made you feel. You wished to be the reason to arouse him, but he chalked it up to biology. “If I’m not out of line in saying this, you would also cause a similar problem, and holding you in my arms like that last night… felt nice. So I’m sure my body was showing its appreciation in ways I didn’t,” he explained further, making you look down at the duvet with a stupid smile adorning your face.

“Joshua, if you need to take care of it, you should do it. I don’t know what to do,” you mumbled quickly, earning a nod from Joshua.

“Wait, ever?” Joshua asked, hating how incredulity laced his voice.

“No. You don’t need to sound so shocked,” you mumbled, feeling defensive.

“I’m not; I’m sorry, it’s the ass crack of dawn, and my brain is barely functioning,” Joshua defended.

You rolled your eyes at him. “And yet your cock was nestled in my ass crack,” you teased, your eyes widening in horror when you realised what you said.

“Did you like it?” Joshua suddenly asked; his demeanour changed as he leaned back against the wooden headboard, making you gulp.

His erection was more prominent with this slight adjustment.

“I asked you a question. Did you like my cock rubbing against you,” Joshua repeated, this time his eyes burning into yours, and you knew you couldn’t lie.

“What am I meant to say? I’m human,” you replied lamely, hoping it’d give him enough of an answer for him just to drop it.

“So, it turned you on?” Joshua asked instead.

You glared at him. “Why do you want to know?”

Joshua smiled at you, admitting, “Because to think you are turned on… it’s fucking hot,”

You wanted to yell but bit your lip to avoid verbalising your thoughts.

“It’s even hotter knowing that I’m the reason behind it,” he added, and you kept staring at the duvet.

“You should go,” you said abruptly, making him look at you in confusion.

Even you weren’t entirely sure why you said that.

Well, you did know why you didn’t want to be intimate with him: for fear that he’d take one look at what you had to offer and be repulsed. You’d be led to believe so what would stop him?

“If I overstepped,” he started to say, and you shook your head and held your hand out to him.

“You didn’t! Just go!” you rushed, getting off the bed, indicating to Joshua that he, too, should leave.

“I’ll catch you later?” Joshua quietly offered, and you nodded, waving to him awkwardly as he walked out of your room.

You let out a breath you were holding after he left.

You shook your head, cursing yourself for kicking him out, but you knew you did the right thing. Joshua, just like any other man, had eyes and would be disgusted once he saw what you hid under your clothes.

Later that day, you walked into your lecture hall, cursing, when you saw that the only empty seat left was the one next to Nia. You sighed as you moved to sit down next to her, and she hesitated for a second before moving her bag down to the floor allowing you to sit next to her.

“Hey,” you mumbled.

You weren’t entirely sure why you were trying to converse with her when she had been rude to you, but you didn’t have many friends. This meant you didn’t have very high standards or understand boundaries.

“Hi,” Nia replied. Her tone was clipped.

You assumed it was because she didn’t want to be disruptive during a lecture. She gave you a tight-lipped smile before returning to the front of the screen.

“Y/N, hold up,” Nia called after you as you started to walk out of the lecture theatre once the professor had dismissed everyone. “Thanks for ratting me out to Joshua, by the way,” she taunted, and your eyes widened.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said to you. That was really shit. But you ran to Joshua, who then told Jeonghan, and then Jeonghan took it upon himself to lecture me about being kind to one another for twenty minutes. Either way, I shouldn’t have said what I said, so this is my apologies.

“We good?” Nia asked, and you nodded.

Not understanding what boundaries meant and not having many friends made you realise that your bar for human decency could have been higher. They needed to be higher. You knew that what Nia said to you was barely an apology. It was more of an “I’m sorry you got offended” apology, a shallow apology usually reserved for celebrities and their notes app.

“It’s fine, I’m sorry, it’s just that Joshua caught me crying that day, and I guess I ended up telling him everything,” you rambled, biting your tongue, realising that you should have done it sooner, for it would have prevented you from oversharing.

Your bond with Joshua was sacred; you didn’t want any other girl or anyone to come in between that. You knew it was selfish and childish, but he held your entire life in his hands, and he didn’t know it.

“So, are you two close friends then?” Nia asked as you two walked down the hall to the quad.

“Yes,” you confirmed. You were shy about most things, but not this. You were his friend, one of his closest.

“Then, do you know if he’s currently got his eyes on anyone?” Nia asked, her tone lowering slightly and your eyes widening at her question.

“Wait, what?” you asked, and Nia smiled at you, the kind of smile that reminded you of the girls in school who called you pretty – only to say that you were pretty ugly.

“Oh, I’m just screwing with you. He’s hot, but don’t worry. I don’t need your advice to get him. Besides, he and I have already kissed once,” Nia casually stated, making your heart sink.

“What? When?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper.

“Oh, you know, the night you chickened out for the dare to get pecked by Joshua? Someone dared him to kiss me after you left, and he did. I have to say I wanted to know what else he could do with his mouth,” Nia chuckled, making you feel like your stomach was twisting.

You needed to leave.

You couldn’t hear this.

“I have to rush back, but I’ll catch you later?” you rushed, and Nia smirked, nodding and sending you a sickly-sweet smile.

You were beyond thankful that your feet still moved because your mind was starting to malfunction and short-circuit.

Joshua kissed you after he kissed Nia. That meant it was a pity kiss. And not only that, you were so taken away by the sweet cherry taste on his lips. Now it hit you that the taste was not only cherry but also peach, and it wasn’t his lip balm. It was hers.

Joshua had kissed you without even bothering to remove the evidence that he kissed Nia minutes ago.

But it wasn’t his fault, you thought. You were so desperate to be loved and feel the intimacy – to feel a proper kiss, the kind of kisses your friends bragged about – that you didn’t care that your first proper kiss was not only a pity kiss but that you also tasted another woman’s lip balm with it.

You felt so stupid.

Joshua had lied to you about what the kiss meant and failed to tell you that he kissed Nia. But then again, he was under no obligation to tell you anything. Where his lips went was not your business. You weren’t his girlfriend. You were just his friend.

“Y/N, keep storming around like that, and you’ll burn a hole into the rug,” Joshua joked, his voice interrupting your thoughts when you realised that while you were busy ripping yourself to shreds, you reached back to the dorms. “Oh, by the way, I got something I want to show you. Can I show you in your room?” he asked excitedly.

You couldn’t help the jealousy, bitterness, and anger that overtook your following words. “Sure, but are you sure that you didn’t show Nia first and are putting on an act now, pretending to show me?” you spat at him, taking Joshua aback.

“Run that by me again?” he asked, and you scoffed as you opened your room door. Joshua walked in behind you, making you glare at him.

“You kissed Nia that night. The night you kissed me, the first night. You kissed her and then kissed me,” you mumbled, hating how vulnerable and weak you sounded at this moment.

Joshua kept going from being your safe space to a man who toyed with your feelings.

“I, fuck, how did you find out?” he asked, running his hand over his face and letting out a deep exhale, and you stared at him.

“You’re not going to deny it?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he offered bluntly, making you scoff.

“You had no problem lying to me that night,” you countered, and Joshua shook his head at you.

“I didn’t lie. I omitted a fact. But yeah, you’re right. Why did this conversation even occur? What did Nia say, exactly?”

You sighed at Joshua’s questions. “Doesn’t matter. The point is that you kissed me after you kissed her,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he inched closer to you to place his hands on your face, making you look at him. “Why does that matter?” he asked so innocently that you felt like you couldn’t even be upset.

But you were. “Because I was a consolation kiss! You might not see it that way, but I fucking do, Joshua! I do. And you know what? It fucking sucks to know that you only kissed me because you felt bad for me. You kissed me after kissing the pretty girl, too, to what? Show that you’re capable of charity?” you accused.

Joshua groaned. “I get your past, and I get why it’s making you lash out in the ways it is, but you cannot compare everything I do to the people who fucked you over in the past! I’m not one of them,” Joshua defended, earning a dry laugh from you.

“Really? Because you are sure as shit fucking me over like them. I don’t want you kissing me or saying lewd things when you get hard from cuddling me because you think it’s easy to fuck with my feelings. I might not have any experience with all this, Joshua, but I have plenty of experience with being hurt and fucked over. You’re not the one I expected it to come from, though,” you spat back.

Joshua just sighed. “Look, come find me when you want to talk like an adult. But if every little piece of gossip sets you off like this, I cannot keep up,” Joshua announced as he stormed out of your room.

It was only your room he left… so why did it feel like he walked out of your life and broke your heart with the door as it slammed shut behind him?

You didn’t talk to Joshua for two weeks.

You’d bump into him often. How could you not? He stayed across from you, and it was hard to avoid your neighbour. Except it seemed like he would go out of his way to ignore you and express his disdain for you.

At first, you assumed you were being dramatic, just like Joshua would call you dramatic. Maybe he, too, realised he wanted nothing to do with you, just like everyone else.

“Penny, for your thoughts?” the guy suddenly asked you one day when you returned from your lecture.

“You’re talking to me now?” you asked, puzzled. Joshua smiled, nodding.

“I thought I wasn’t enough of an adult?” you snapped, making Joshua wince as you unlocked your door.

However, he still followed you inside your room, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“I didn’t realise I invited you in?” you asked, and he frowned, looking down at his feet.

“I know I did something shitty to you, and it’s even worse because I wasn’t an adult myself. Hell, I stormed out of your room,” Joshua admitted, chuckling, and you sighed deeply at him.

“I know I was too much. I just have a past,” you mumbled, and Joshua nodded.

“I’m not trying to negate it, Y/N, but at some point you need to move past it. You have a clean slate to do whatever you want; why don’t you take advantage of that?” Joshua offered, and you nodded at him.

“I know, and I get it. But with my past, Shua, I just – I let it haunt me so much that I end up struggling to believe that anyone could ever like me for me,” you admitted, and Joshua frowned as he moved to stand in front of you, his tall frame dwarfing you.

“I’m so sorry that I was not more understanding. Truly, I am. I should have been, fuck. I just let my immaturity get the best of me,” Joshua apologised, and you shook your head at him.

“We’re both learning. You have no reason to apologise to me. I’m serious. You don’t,” you admitted, and Joshua smiled softly at you as he wrapped you in a tight embrace.

“How about we blow off steam at the party that Jeonghan’s flat is hosting?” Joshua offered.

“I don’t know, the last party did nothing but cause drama, or rather, I overreacted,” you mumbled softly, making Joshua shake his head at you.

“Your reactions are valid. Please don’t let me or anyone take that away from you,” Joshua comforted you, making you smile softly at him.

“So, what’s the occasion of this party?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged.

“I honestly don’t know, and I quote Jeonghan on this: who needs a reason? A party is a party,” Joshua chuckled, making you smile along with him. “Come on, go get ready, and we can go!” Joshua cheered, making you smile at him. “Look, we’re going to have ups and downs in our friendships. Isn’t that normal? But I promise I’ll keep the dramatic storming out of rooms to a minimum,” he joked, making you nod at him.

“What should I wear?” you asked, making Joshua grin.

“Whatever you feel comfortable in,” he answered, making you swoon at his answer.

It was a simple statement, but he never pressured you to look a certain way. But you still let your demons get the best of you.

Was the reason why he didn’t deem it necessary to tell you to wear something nice that, regardless of what you wore, he’d never consider you attractive, so it didn’t matter?

“I can hear you overthinking. I’m saying wear something comfortable because it’s a flat party, not because I think you can’t pull off something else. I know you can. Hell, if you want to wear a dress and heels tonight, I support it, but I know you won’t be comfortable in it, not at a house party,” Joshua rationalised, calming the demons in your mind and making you nod and smile at him.

“Sorry,” you gave him a sheepish smile, and Joshua shook his head at you.

“Stop apologising for how you feel,” he said as he moved to open your wardrobe.

“Oh, what about this? It’s sparkly?” Joshua beamed as he handed you a sparkly green top.

You bought it on a whim once; it was what all the pretty girls in the magazines wore, it was what all the cute girls wore, and you just thought that if you wore that, you too would be pretty.

“It’s stunning, and I think it’d make you sparkle and look like a mermaid,” Joshua laughed.

“Mermaids are attractive?” You asked, taking the green top from him.

“Listen, Ariel is fucking hot,” he declared, making you laugh.

“She nearly gave up everything for a guy. A guy who she knew nothing about, and all because he was handsome,” you mumbled.

“Not a Little Mermaid Fan?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“Not a fan of how much she gave up for him,” you mumbled, and he nodded, sensing that if he didn’t divert your attention somewhere else, this conversation would take a very gloomy turn.

“To be fair, and I’m just assuming here, it wouldn’t be easy to sustain a relationship with a damn fish,” Joshua said knowingly, making you laugh.

“Okay, get out, you fish expert. I need to get ready,” you joked, pushing Joshua towards your door, and he nodded.

“Be ready in about thirty minutes?” Joshua offered, and you nodded.

You were done with your shower, and as you walked out, you almost liked what you saw in the mirror.

Almost.

You wore the sparkly green top, paired it with black jeans, and wore your stripped Converse. You dusted a light wash of makeup on your face and some mascara on it then reached for the peach-flavoured gloss and dabbed your lips with a small amount before smiling in the mirror.

“Ready?” You heard Joshua yelling obnoxiously outside your door, making you cringe at him.

“You’re insufferable,” you giggled as you opened the door, laughing at him.

Your laughter stuck in your throat when you took in Joshua’s appearance.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Joshua giggled, making you glare at him.

“You look good, okay,” you huffed, making Joshua smile.

“Likewise. Shall we go? Jeonghan’s been texting me. Oh, by the way, Nia will be there,” Joshua said, his voice softening as he spoke her name.

“Shua, I can manage. She might have just been having a bad day. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine. It’s all in the past,” you said, not meaning it entirely, but Joshua was right. You couldn’t live your entire life crying at every upsetting situation.

“If she steps out of line, I’ll put her back in place, I promise,” Joshua added, and you smirked at him.

“Kinky,” you joked before slapping a hand over your mouth, your eyes widening in shock at what you said.

“Oh, do you want to find out?” Joshua teased, making you look down shyly.

“Come on, Jeonghan is waiting,” you said shyly as you dragged him across the hall to flat 2B.

You didn’t see it then, and how you wish you did because your words lit a fire of envy in Joshua, one he could not douse and one that ended up ruining the night.

The house party was going quite well, there were no silly dares and no bitchy comments, but you couldn’t place your finger on Joshua’s behaviour. The entire night, he was distant and standoffish with you.

Hell, he was chatting with Nia for a fair bit, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were a chronic over-thinker and that Joshua didn’t necessarily mean to do what he did with the intent of hurting you.

“I like your top, by the way,” Jeonghan said rather loudly and drunkenly, and you smiled, thanking him.

“Oh, thank you. Actually, Joshua helped pick it out,” you answered, and you saw Joshua smile warmly at you. He was about to respond when Nia spoke before him instead.

“Why? You can’t choose your outfits or something?” Nia mocked, earning a couple of chuckles from what you could only guess were her minions.

“I…” you mumbled, lost.

Joshua was about to speak, but something stopped him. That something was Jeonghan, who shot daggers at Nia, making her roll her eyes.

“Anyways, I was promised games, and all we’ve done is drink and make small talk,” Nia complained, and Jeonghan nodded slowly.

“Get the cards then, and we can start playing,” Jeonghan said as he turned to face you.

“You look beautiful, don’t listen to her. She has this bitchy persona, but she’s actually nice. Just got to get past the ice-cold persona,” Jeonghan mumbled to you.

You smiled at him before noticing how Joshua smiled at Nia and whatever she whispered.

Didn’t he say he’d set Nia straight if she spoke out of turn? So why didn’t he?

“Alright, we’re just playing snap but with dares and forfeits if you don’t do your dare,” Nia explained once one of her friends brought her a deck of cards to her.

It was quite an easy game, and the night was progressing smoothly. Nia hadn’t made a single snide comment, and thankfully, your speed made you avoid some stupid dares.

“Oh! Joshua, you lost that round. You have to complete a dare!” One of Nia’s friends squealed, making you wince.

“Ugh, I knew it. What do I have to do?” Joshua asked, smiling. You felt your heart starting to pound in your chest.

“Make out with Nia. I know you guys only kissed, but this time, a proper make out,” Nia’s friend suggested, making your heart fall into your stomach with her suggestion.

Surely, he wouldn’t say yes.

“Sure, why not?” Joshua chuckled as he turned to face Nia, who shot you a smirk before meeting to place her lips on his, earning a few wolf whistles and cheers from the others in the room as they kissed.

They fit together. It made sense. She knew what to do. You didn’t.

You could feel your eyes burn with tears and knew you had to leave. You couldn’t watch this. You couldn’t keep watching this.

You got up to leave but got up so hastily that you failed to notice that your glittery top got snagged by the edge of the table. The tear was barely noticeable, but the scrape of your chair against the floor was loud and got everyone’s attention, including Nia who smirked at you.

“See, this is why you should dress for your body, not just based on trends. I guess that the rip was the universe’s way of letting you know that the shirt needed to be let out a bit,” Nia said with a straight face, her voice devoid of emotion, but her words were laced with venom.

The venom that you could feel was starting to move in your body and to your heart and brain, making you hate everything about your body and yourself more than usual.

Nia’s vile comments finally made Joshua snap as he pulled away from her and stood up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He shouted at Nia as she shrugged.

“She looked silly in that top. Is that why you picked it up, Shua? Because you couldn’t resist, knowing how stupid she would look in that?” Nia added, smirking. Her words were slurred, so you knew not to believe her, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

But then again, doesn’t a drunken mind speak sober thoughts?

“Y/N!” Joshua called out as you turned your back to everyone and tried to leave.

You took a deep breath before turning to him. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mumbled before exiting the flat.

After the flat party, you returned to your room, and you stood in front of your mirror in your underwear after a shower.

You stared hard; you could see every dent, mark, and scar on your body.

You weren’t chubby, far from it, but you weren’t a size two.

You had curves, which came at the cost of more stretch marks.

You had long, wavy hair that never seemed to cooperate with you.

Nia was right; you didn’t look good.

You were so immersed in picking yourself apart that you failed to notice Joshua walk in and wrap his arms around your waist.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he mumbled into your bare skin, and you could feel his toned arms under the flimsy fabric of your bra.

“For what? She’s just telling the truth. She’s the kind of flawless I wish I could be,” you mumbled, squinting at the reflection.

You hated what you looked like. You sighed deeply before removing Joshua’s arms around you.

“I fucked up. I said I’d defend you, and I didn’t,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed, sitting on your bed.

Joshua sat down, kneeling, making you look into his big eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Why the fuck are you the one about to cry? I’m the one that got body-shammed in front of everyone. You got the pretty girl, and you got to even kiss her!”

“I’m about to cry because I have been spouting this loyalty bullshit from day one, and when it came to you, I just let it go. And I guess it’s because you dropped my hand when I was being suggestive and ran off to find Jeonghan instead,” Joshua grumbled, and you scoffed at him.

“That’s such a pathetic reason. I only ran off like that because, you know, I’m uncomfortable with sexual innuendos and jokes. I’ve never experienced anything, so how can I pursue a conversation further?” You questioned.

Joshua just frowned as he looked to the ground.

“I didn’t,” you started to say and moved to kneel until you were on your knees, sitting in front of Joshua. “I didn’t run because I wanted to get cosy with Jeonghan. But I’ll say he was a better friend than you were tonight,” you finished and stood up, grabbing an oversized shirt off your chair, pulling it over your body, and moving to Joshua.

“I was seeing red, and like a fucking dick, I said nothing. I didn’t pick that top for you because I wanted to mock you. I picked it because you looked lovely in it. It fits you like a glove,” Joshua spoke, and you scoffed at him.

“Are you sure I didn’t look like a stuffed turkey instead?” you mocked, and Joshua shook his head.

“I don’t know what Nia’s deal is—I don’t fucking know—but you didn’t look silly in the outfit. It’s your body; you wear what you want. You looked lovely, my angel,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you quirked your brows at him.

“My angel?” you echoed, and Joshua blushed slightly.

“I give nicknames,” he mumbled.

“Oh,” you mumbled.

“Only to the ones I love,” he replied, making your heart swoon.

You knew you already had it wrong for Joshua, but his saying made you swoon more. You felt safe, and you knew that you were falling for him.

“I didn’t look stupid in the green top?” you asked again, and Joshua smiled, turning to face you.

“No, you didn’t. Fuck Nia and her stupid ass opinions,” Joshua huffed, hoping it’d make you laugh, but somehow it failed.

“Wasn’t that your aim tonight? To fuck her. I mean, I gathered that was the aim because you leapt at the chance to kiss her,” you spat at Joshua, who shrank at the accusation.

“I just… fuck, I screwed up. I told you that I got mad, and I fucked up. I fucking did. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed.

“It hurt to watch that,” you voiced, and Joshua nodded.

“Did, uh, did you want to kiss me instead?” Joshua asked, and your eyes widened.

“Is this some sort of stupid game you play where you kiss Nia first and then come back and give me a pity kiss? Because if it is, I want nothing to do with it,” you said as you tried to get up, only to have Joshua pull you back onto his lap, glaring at you.

“It’s not. Fuck, do you not realise that I had kissed you before, which wasn’t a fucking pity kiss? Two, I got hard for you. And now I want to kiss you because you looked amazing at that party, but you look even better in this stupid shirt that I kind of want to rip you off!” Joshua exclaimed, making your eyes widen.

“Oh,” you said, unsure of how to respond.

Joshua rolled his eyes at you. “Yeah, oh,” he huffed, making you giggle.

You didn’t know where you felt a surge of confidence rush into your blood, but you did, and as it did, the words tumbled out of your mouth sooner than you could stop them.

“Then kiss me,” you whispered out.

Okay, maybe you weren’t that confident, but you said the words, and you knew Joshua heard them because his grip around your waist tightened.

Joshua didn’t say anything. He simply pulled you in closer until your lips met his. You ignored the taste of cherry lip gloss on his lips and instead tried to enjoy his taste, but you couldn’t. You eventually sighed into the kiss as you pulled away.

“Did I do something?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“I just… I keep tasting Nia’s stupid cherry lip gloss on your lips, and it’s killing the mood,” you admitted, making Joshua sigh as he used his shirt to wipe his lips.

“Try again,” he encouraged, and so you did.

This time, you could taste him; the cherry flavour was an aftertaste, but one you could swallow because you liked him too much to care.

As the kiss progressed, Joshua’s grip on your waist only got tighter, and you kept moving against his hips, making him groan into the kiss. He was so big and thick that you could feel yourself grow wetter each minute.

“Wait, stop,” he mumbled against your lips, his grip still tight on your waist because he knew you’d run away the second he told you to stop. “Where does all this leave us? The slight dry-humping, the kisses?” he asked, and you smiled at him.

You wanted to tell him you liked and wanted to date him, but you didn’t want to scare him off. So, you decided to choose an option that would only hurt you.

But if that was the only way you could ever have Joshua, so be it.

“How about we just keep it casual?” You said, trying to sound nonchalant and unbothered, and Joshua nodded.

“I agree,” Joshua replied, not leaving room for an explanation as his lips were back on yours instantly, making you moan into the kiss.

Casual it is.

Over the next three weeks, you learnt what casual meant. It meant still being friends with Joshua and having your usual movie nights with him. And then sometimes you’d end up on his lap, kissing him.

A week after the casual arrangement began, you found yourself bare-chested and at the mercy of Joshua’s lips and hands running all over your breasts while you palm his hard length over his boxers.

In the second week of understanding what casual meant, you found yourself clenching around his long fingers as they moved inside of you. You didn’t entirely realise how it happened. Still, it felt so good that you didn’t want to stop it. You were riding the wave of euphoria for as long as you could, and you couldn’t see it crashing anytime soon. You had also given your first blowjob. It was glorious watching Joshua fall apart under your touch. It was a sight you wanted to be tattooed in your brain.

During the third week of understanding the word casual, you felt pleasure you only thought was confined to porn and smutty fanfiction, but when you two stumbled back drunkenly after a night out, you couldn’t control your hormones.

You wanted him.

“Joshuaie!” you slurred slightly as he helped you back to your room.

It was a Friday night, and you had too much to drink. As a result, you ended up stumbling a bit, but you weren’t drunk, far from it. But you also had a pep to your step, one that did not help you walk.

“Sit,” Joshua ordered as he helped you sit on your bed.

His tone was slightly cold, and you immediately felt like he had poured cold water all over you. With one word, you sobered up immediately and let out a sniffle.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night out. I’ll be fine. You can go back and enjoy yourself,” you mumbled as you kicked your shoes off and scurried under your covers.

Joshua sighed as he walked into your ensuite bathroom, grabbed your makeup wipes, returned to you, and sat on your bed.

“Sit up,” he said, his tone softer this time, his kind eyes sparkling with endearment.

“You didn’t ruin my night, none of it. Fuck, I just got annoyed. A few guys made some shitty comments about you, and I wanted to punch them,” Joshua explained as you sat up, and he moved to wipe the makeup off your face gently.

“Oh, they probably said I looked hideous; no need to get mad at that, nothing I’m not used to,” you admitted, letting out a sad chuckle.

“Is that what you fucking think?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged, at which he sighed, kicking off his shoes.

You shrugged. “Is it not?”

Joshua shook his head. “Fuck, they couldn’t stop talking about all the sexual things they wanted to do to you, and I wanted to just punch them. No man should ever talk about a woman like that. It’s so stupid,” Joshua huffed out, making you smile.

“Well, at least I was being complimented,” you sassed back, spilling out of your bed as you drunkenly stumbled into your bathroom and stepped into your shower, the alcohol making you forget Joshua’s presence in the room.

Thankfully, you always kept an oversized shirt in the bathroom, which you changed into before stepping out of the shower and walking back into the room.

“The things those guys were saying weren’t complimentary. They were sexist and disgusting hell. If it were me…” Joshua trailed off when you joined him on your bed.

“What would you say, huh?” you asked, and Joshua smiled as he inched closer to you.

“I’d do more than speak,” he answered.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed; it was now filled with want and desire, and you decided to bask in the glory and be bolder.

“Show me then,” you mumbled.

“You’ve been drinking,” Joshua mumbled, and you shrugged.

“Your point? I’m buzzed, but I can consent. I can count to ten backwards if you want,” you joked.

Joshua smiled as he stood up, making you stand up with him. He pulled the curtains over your window so that the only thing illuminating the room was your table light. Joshua moved to pull the leather jacket off his body and tossed it on your desk before pulling you into a soft kiss.

“God, I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you tonight,” he admitted, making you smile. “Can I take this off?” he asked, and you hesitated for a second, then nodded.

“Just know that… I don’t look like a model underneath,” you mumbled suddenly. Even though Joshua had been intimate with you before, you still felt insecure every time.

“I’m glad you don’t. You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” Joshua praised you as he pulled the fabric off your body, leaving you naked.

He walked you backwards until the backs of your knees touched his bed. He gently pushed you down, and you moved back on the bed as he crawled between your legs. He placed his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, and Joshua slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening it. He pulled away gently just to look at you.

“Can I touch you?” Joshua asked, and you nodded slowly.

He smiled as he placed his lips on yours again, kissing you again, and then moved his mouth to your breasts.

“Fucking hell, these tits. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to suck and bite them.”

You moaned as he squeezed your breasts, his fingertips rubbing your nipples.

“Each time you were in a low-cut top, I wanted nothing more than to bring you into a room and take your tits in my mouth.”

You squeezed your thighs as Joshua’s words did nothing but torment your aching cunt.

He moved a hand down your body. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said as he moved to lay down between your legs.

He pushed your legs apart, and his tongue found your cunt. He placed several kisses on your cunt, each kiss making you buck into his mouth. He wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Easy, princess, I’m going to take good care of you.” You nodded as he ran his tongue along your folds, moaning as he tasted you. He circled his tongue around your entrance as he pushed his long and thick tongue inside you.

“Fuck, Joshua,” you cried out, tugging on his hair.

He growled into your cunt when you tugged on his hair, the vibrations making you shake. He pulled his mouth away from you and pushed two fingers inside you. He stood on his knees and stared at you directly as he hooked his fingers inside you, his other hand pressing down on your stomach.

“Hold still, princess; I will make you scream my name.”

You nodded, and Joshua started moving his hand up and down vigorously. You could hear just how wet you were getting.

“Come on, princess, I can hear how fucking wet you are. Wouldn’t it be nice if you just squirted all over my hand?”

You arched your back as Joshua kept fingering you.

“Pretty girl, I can hear you squirt for me. I can make you squirt again, don’t worry.”

You kept whimpering until something inside you snapped, and you felt your vision fade as you came hard. You felt yourself squirt all over Joshua’s fingers. He pulled his fingers out of you and sucked on them.

“God, you’re so fucking sweet,” Joshua moaned, praising you. You felt a bolt of confidence surge as you got onto your knees. “You don’t have to?” he assured, but you shook your head at him.

“I want to. Will you let me?”

You reached forward and wrapped your mouth around his length. Well, as much as you could, your hands made up for what your mouth couldn’t. You ran your tongue along his length until you fixated your mouth around his tip. You kept sucking his tip, and your hands reached down to play with his balls. Joshua bucked in your mouth as you kept sucking his tip.

“Fucking hell.”

You smirked. Catching Joshua off guard was the only way to get him to submit to you.

“Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum!”

You kept bobbing your head up and down his length until you felt him still in your mouth and felt his warmth release down your throat. You pulled away, slowly swallowing his release and giving his sensitive tip a final lick.

“Fuck, get over here,” Joshua moaned as he pulled you into his arms for a sweet kiss.

You giggled into his chest as he cuddled you, making him nudge you. “What’s on your mind?”

“You’re perfect,” you said. No mumbling, nothing. You said it confidently.

“No one’s perfect,” Joshua countered, “plus, you’re only saying that because of the amazing orgasm I just gave you,” Joshua joked, making you groan and sit up.

“No, you are! You’re so fucking perfect, just you are. I’ll explain someday; right now, it’s fuzzy, but you’re the closest thing to perfection,” you mumbled as you laid back down and curled into Joshua’s embrace.

“Fuck, I’m going to miss you over winter break,” Joshua spoke, and you nodded.

“Only three weeks, nothing’s going to change. I’ll still be here,” you said, touching his lips and making him smile into the kiss.

The thing about bold statements is that they often come with uncertainty and pain should things not pan out the way you want. Which is precisely what happened to you.

You said in three weeks nothing would change, but you were wrong because you told yourself that when you were high off the orgasms and falling in love with Joshua, your love only grew stronger every second.

“Y/N!” Joshua exclaimed when he found you at the café. You were waiting patiently for him. It was the first week back from winter break, and Joshua finally texted to meet up.

You agreed. You also decided that you wanted to confess to him, to tell him you liked him.

“Joshua!” You greeted cheerfully as the tall boy hugged you tightly.

How do you get more handsome every day?

It was true; Joshua was getting increasingly handsome each day, and you weren’t entirely sure if it was good for your heart.

“So, what’s up?” he asked once you two sat down in a booth, and he smiled, noticing you ordered his favourite drink for him.

“Uh, winter break was good. I spent time with family, and uh, Joshua, I have to tell you something,” you started, and he nodded.

“Me too!” Joshua exclaimed, and you smiled, thinking that maybe you and him were on the same page. Perhaps he liked you the way you liked him.

“Really?” you asked. “Okay, you first,” you said, and Joshua grinned.

As he was about to speak, a pair of long, slender arms wrapped around his chest, and a kiss was placed on his cheek.

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces – all stabbing you at the same time.

“Baby, I missed you!”

You looked to see Nia slide into the booth next to Joshua, making you feel nauseous. You felt like a fucking fool.

Why would Joshua ever reciprocate what you felt for him? Why would he ever want you when he had a girl like Nia?

“Babe, you’re early. I haven’t told her yet,” Joshua mumbled, apologetic as he awkwardly smiled at you. Nia shrugged.

“You two are dating?” you asked, and Joshua nodded.

“We met when I went back home, Nia’s from the same town, and we hung out, and you know, over the last three weeks, she made me the happiest I’ve ever been,” Joshua said, and you could feel your eyes starting to sting with tears.

“Wait, baby, they just called my order. Be right back,” Nia said, kissing Joshua’s cheek as she waltzed away.

“I know you’re not her biggest fan, but I promise she’s kind, loving and sweet when you dig past the cold persona. I wanted to tell you, but I also didn’t know how. We weren’t really together or anything, you know?” Joshua mumbled, and that did it for you.

He never even saw what you two shared as unique. You were nothing to him.

“Does she make you happy?” You asked, and Joshua nodded, smiling.

“Then I hope she knows that her side gets her the most amazing man, but if she hurts you,” you started to say, and Joshua shook his head.

“She won’t!” he said excitedly, and you nodded, knowing that your ‘I’ll hurt her if she hurts you’ speech would be wasted on him.

“Then, go be happy, Joshua, that’s all I want,” you said as you gathered your things. You had to leave this café. You’d fall apart if you stayed any longer.

“Wait, you said you have something to tell me?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“I got to go. Another time.”

You rushed, hurrying out of the café and back to your dorm room, where you cried into your pillow. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore, then you cried some more. You cried until you couldn’t feel anymore. You cried yourself to sleep, knowing that the boy you loved was never going to be yours.

You would have to see them, Joshua and Nia. You’d have to see her with him, and it’d hurt because she had everything you had to live without.

Joshua tried to balance, but he was failing. He would flake on meetings with you and study sessions or hangouts, which started getting on your nerves. You brought it up to him one night during a movie night.

“Stop making plans if you keep flaking,” you mumbled, and you saw Joshua glare at you.

“It’s not out of malice. Forget it; you won’t get it,” Joshua dismissed.

“Why wouldn’t I get it?” You asked, and he sighed.

“You’re not dating anyone. You’ve never been in a relationship either, so I guess you wouldn’t get it,” he mumbled, and you scoffed at him.

“I don’t have to be doing either of those things to call you out on being a shit friend,” you retorted, making Joshua scoff.

“You only just made friends, so please don’t act like you have any authority on what friends are meant to do either,” Joshua fired back, making your eyes well up with tears.

“That’s so mean,” you choked out.

Joshua groaned. “Oh, for the love of God, I can’t be at your beck and call! I have a life! I’m sorry you don’t, but I do! Why don’t you go out to make some friends? I won’t be able to be there for you all the time, not when someone needs me more, and she’s a priority,” Joshua said.

His words felt like daggers, slicing you open, drawing blood, but all you felt were tears stinging your eyes.

“I’m going. You’re right, I should make more friends. Also, I never asked to be a priority, Joshua, but I didn’t expect you to make me an afterthought… But I get it now, you don’t need me,” you explained, tears running down your face as you hurriedly grabbed your bag and stormed out of his room and back to yours.

He didn’t come after you this time when he made you cry. This time, you were alone.

And this time, you knew he was not yours. Not anymore.

~~~

Three Months Later

You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing at this party; none of the people here were your friends, but you decided to go out because another girl from your dorm, Mai, invited you out. You chose to go since Joshua painfully pointed out how few friends you had and that you should go out and make some.

You weren’t entirely sure these were the types of friends you wanted to make. You weren’t judging them, but they were just different. They were more outgoing, the type to get wasted and hook up with each other. You judged none of it, but it just wasn’t you.

“Yo, Y/N, have a shot of this,” Mai said, rushing over to you and handing you a shot glass of clear liquid. “It’ll loosen you up a bit. You’re so wound up,” she moaned, and you sighed, taking a shot of the drink.

It burnt your throat, but it couldn’t compare to the pain you felt every time you thought of Joshua.

“Good, have another,” Mai said, handing you another shot, and you did the same thing, downing the clear liquid, shot after shot, until you were four shots in, your mind hazy, and you stopped thinking.

Instead, you soon found yourself on the dance floor, grinding against some guy. You forgot his name but didn’t care, not when his kisses distracted you from Joshua. And certainly not later when you were back in your room that night, he was down on his knees trying his best to please you.

“Babe, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he spoke, and you looked at him, his chin wet with your arousal.

“Kyung,” you drawled; his name finally popped into your mind. “I do. I just don’t have protection,” you mumbled.

“Oh, is that it? I do,” Kyung said, fishing out a condom from his back pocket, making you smile in amusement.

You weren’t going to lose your virginity to Joshua. He made it clear that he didn’t see you as someone he’d prioritise, plus he had a girlfriend.

“Just go slow,” you told Kyung as you pulled your dress off.

You didn’t care what you looked like anymore. You didn’t. If Kyung could make you feel wanted, you’d do anything to feel that.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be desired, even if Joshua wasn’t the one to do it.

You woke up to Kyung gently snoring next to you until you nudged him awake the following day.

“Hey, oh, are you okay? Any pain, any regrets?” Kyung asked sweetly, and you shook your head.

“No… Thanks for last night,” you mumbled, and Kyung smiled as he slowly got out of bed.

“Look, I would stay, but I also don’t think your head is in it because you can tell when someone doesn’t like you, but don’t worry! I’m not mad,” Kyung explained.

“Kyung, I’m sorry,” you mumbled as he got dressed and shook his head. “It was a hookup, no hard feelings, right?” you asked, and Kyung nodded, smiling at you.

“Chill, we’re good. But you know, if you ever see me around and you want to repeat what happened last night, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. But if you never want to acknowledge me again, that’s also okay,” Kyung explained, making you smile.

“I’ll at least say hello,” you joked, making Kyung laugh.

“See you around, Y/N,” Kyung said as he left your room. You sat in bed and slowly got out later to shower, your legs aching with a good ache.

It felt nice last night to feel wanted. You felt utterly rejected by Joshua, and you wanted to feel needed, and if doing things like you did last night made you feel the slightest bit wanted, then you’d do it over and over again.

So, you did.

You continued it. Going out, getting drunk, hooking up with someone random, and each time, you felt more complete seeing how they drooled when they saw you naked. You enjoyed every moment.

Each hookup was your attempt at filling the Joshua-sized hole in your heart, and though it wasn’t entirely practical, it was enough. It was enough to numb your pain.

You continued this pattern for so long that you lost track, lost track of how many people you slept with. You just were chasing something permanent in something fleeting.

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in two years.

Well, here and there, awkward hellos, but he’d become a ghost to you since he started dating Nia. You pulled away too because you couldn’t be around him, not when you felt your heart break a little more every time you saw him.

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in so long, until today, in the final term of your last year of university. You had just returned to the dorms and were unpacking your things after going home for the winter break when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in, it’s open,” you called out, and your eyes widened when they landed on Joshua’s scowling figure. “Well, hello to you too,” you huffed out.

You had gained more confidence in the two years but felt every bit of it ebb away when you saw Joshua again. Because when you saw him, you were always the broken-hearted girl who cried over the fact that she could never have him.

“What the hell are you doing with your life?” He asked, making you stare at him in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t act stupid with me. What are you doing, hooking up with someone new almost every week? Do you know that this gossip followed me back home?” Joshua accused you, making you scoff.

“Why do you care? You already made it painfully clear that I was not a priority anymore, so why do you care what I’m doing?” you demanded, and Joshua scoffed.

“Well, if everyone I know is starting to call you a slut, then I care,” Joshua fired back, making you scoff again.

“Do you think that?” you asked, and Joshua sighed.

“If the shoe fits,” he mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“That day in the café, I wanted to tell you I liked you,” you started to say as you unpacked your belongings. “I started falling for you, Joshua. The minute you made me feel seen, kissed me, and the three weeks we spent fooling around, I fell more and more. I thought you felt the same,” you said, pausing to breathe.

“But you didn’t, and I had a Joshua-shaped hole in my heart,” you finished, and Joshua stared at you with wide eyes.

“All that to say, I make no apologies for how I choose to fix that hole in my heart, and I make no apologies for how I choose to fix what you broke,” you responded.

“Did you just quote Meredith Grey to me?” Joshua asked, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Shut up, she had great lines,” you bit back.

“I’m just saying you’re getting a reputation, and you know people won’t respect you as much,” Joshua babbled, making you scoff at him.

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck. I’m trying to forget you,” you lied as tears started to pool in your eyes. “I don’t care about the respect of hundreds of people who don’t know me, but I do care about the respect you have for me,” you asked.

Joshua stayed silent, feet planted on the ground.

“I’ve gotten my answer, thank you,” you replied, and Joshua sighed.

“You keep this up. You’ll lose everyone,” Joshua retorted, making you roll your eyes at him.

“I only ever had you, and I lost you the day you started dating Nia, so I think I’m good,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Fine, be that fucking way,” Joshua scowled as he stormed out of your room, slamming the door on his way out, making the hole in your heart grow with every step he took.

“Y/N!”

You left bed one night when you heard someone yell your name. Startled, you ran to the front door, confused when you saw Jeonghan.

“Joshua’s in my room, and he’s crying. He needs you,” Jeonghan huffed, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“No, he doesn’t, he hasn’t for so long. Tell him to go run to Nia,” you spat out, and Jeonghan sighed, running his hand through his blond hair. It was tousled and messy. You guessed that he had just gotten out of bed.

“Nia is the reason he’s crying, so I can assure you, he does not need her,” Jeonghan deadpanned, making your heart sink. Joshua and Nia had problems?

“Just go to him, preferably before he drenches my bedsheets with his tears,” Jeonghan rushed, and you sighed, following him across the hall to Jeonghan’s room, where you saw the man you were deeply in love with curled into a ball crying.

“Joshua?” you said softly, and you only heard a whimper from him in response.

“Go, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Jeonghan said, pushing you into the room, and you cautiously approached the crying man.

“She cheated,” Joshua blubbered out, and your heart sank.

You could only see red. How could she? She had your entire world in her hands and crushed it in one thoughtless moment.

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” you spat out, and Joshua shook his head.

“No, just hold me. I don’t want ever to hear her name again,” Joshua begged, and you sighed, giving in to let Joshua cuddle you.

“I deserved this. I said such shitty things to you. No wonder I’m in this predicament now,” Joshua sighed, and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up. You said shitty things. It doesn’t mean you deserved this; no one does; I’m so sorry,” you said, hugging him tighter, earning a soft sigh from him.

“Y/N, I haven’t been a good friend at all, and I’m going to be one of those douchebags who’s going to ask you to be there for me now because I need you, but I promise this time I won’t hurt you, not again,” Joshua admitted sitting up slightly wiping his eyes.

“I…” you hesitated and sighed when you saw hurt flash across his handsome features. “Of course I will,” you said, making Joshua smile.

Of course, you would because you held onto hope. Not that you ever wanted Joshua to get hurt, but he could finally be yours after the hurt passed.

Joshua was true to his word. Things went back to how they were, you two being the best of buds, no benefits, but still, he was your friend, warming your heart up. This time, it would be fine.

“You look nice,” Joshua commented as he walked into your room, his hands automatically moving to adjust the zipper you were fiddling with. “There, all done,” he beamed at you. “You look beautiful,” Joshua commented again as he took in your emerald, green floor-length cocktail gown.

You had just finished getting ready for the final year gala. You smiled at Joshua, and your eyes widened as you took in his appearance.

“You look just as handsome. Any girl would be lucky to have you,” you suggested, biting your lip when you saw how his expression fell.

“Let’s not mention that, please?” he asked.

“She who shall not be named?” you offered with a smile, and Joshua nodded.

“Yeah, she who shall not be named.” He smiled as you two walked out to your room and the ballroom.

“Shall we, our final gala as soon-to-be university grads?” Joshua asked, holding his arm to you, and you smiled at him.

You and Joshua enjoyed the gala. For the most part, there was no drama, just a few odd questions about if you and Joshua were dating, but he quickly shot them down. By the night’s end, you were tipsy enough to spill the words brewing on your tongue for the entire night.

You still loved him, and tonight, you’d tell him uninterrupted.

“Okay, what was so important that you needed to drag my ass out here and watch yourself! You’re going to fall over!” Joshua giggled as he wrapped his arm around your waist, making you smile shyly at him.

This was it; this was the moment you’d tell him everything you felt for him. You’d say to him right here that you loved him.

“Okay, sit,” you declared to Joshua, who only chuckled and then groaned when you pushed him down onto the icy-cold brick walls that adorned your campus. The décor of your campus made it look like a castle, and at this moment, you felt like you were maybe just in a fairytale.

Joshua was the prince, and you were the wide-eyed princess about to confess to him.

“Okay, now shut up and listen,” you giggled, making Joshua laugh.

“I’ve legit said nothing. The floor is all yours, my love,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you melted. That smile would be the death of you. That’s all you knew.

“So, this year, I felt we became so close. I mean, you were my first friend here, hell, you were probably my first friend here, and I know the last two weeks with your breakup, it wasn’t exactly kind on you. However, you could keep a straight face and smile through whatever pain you tried to hide. Inspired me,” you admitted. You saw Joshua’s smile, and you flashed him a smile before you continued to ramble.

“I also remember, the night after that awful party, I told you to come and help me out, and you did, and I remember just drunkenly mumbling apologies to you. I think that was the first time I expressed my gratitude for you. You’ve made me a better person, Joshua,” you professed, struggling to look him in the eyes as you poured your heart out.

“I’m not going to lie. Because of the alcohol, I can’t. Honestly, thanks to the alcohol, I can’t remember much of what I said, but I remember you smiling and saying thank you, so I guess I must have said something right!” You drunkenly continued your monologue, making Joshua nod at you.

“Now,” you said slowly as you stumbled to sit down next to him.

“I’m going to bring this up quick. The way you shut down when you and Nia broke up. It broke me. I hate the fucking fact that she failed to see how wonderful of a man she lost, but that’s her loss, not yours; I hated that you doubted yourself so much,” you babbled as you placed your hand on his, which made him look up at you.

“That being said, you inspired me even in your darkest hours. You were able to finally pull yourself out of that shitty headspace, evaluate it, and then reason. It’s something that I admire in you a lot and a trait I wish I also possessed. When I visited you the night, you found out about Nia’s unfaithfulness. I saw it was a different side to you. I no longer saw you as Joshua, the guy who always kept a straight face and never expressed emotions other than happiness and anger,” you explained, pausing to breathe.

“I saw a guy who was hurt, vulnerable, sensitive, but a guy who was honestly just emotionally drained. That night, I guess, would be the pivotal moment of our friendship because I saw you not only being happy and cheery but also having a different and more sensitive side of yourself,” you smiled as the words tumbled.

“Y/N, you’re going to make me cry if you continue,” Joshua mumbled, and you knew he wasn’t lying, especially with the way his voice was thick with emotion. You shrugged as you moved to sit down next to him.

“Okay, turn, face me,” you slurred slightly, making Joshua laugh at you as he turned to face you.

“How can I help you?” Joshua asked, and you grinned at him.

“Well, now it’s Joshua appreciation time!” you yelled in his face, making him laugh as he slightly cringed at the volume of your voice before nodding, allowing you to speak.

“Well, first, I’m jealous of you!” You exclaimed, making Joshua look at you funnily, “why?” Joshua asked, his voice small.

“You make everything so effortless, good grades, good friends. I know you put effort into everything you do, but you make it look so easy. I’m jealous of that,” you admitted, making Joshua blush as he smiled at the ground.

“Now, you remember how I said if I could use one word to describe you, it’d be perfect, well I still maintain that and let me break it down for you because I know you’re going to give me the bullshit that no one’s perfect, but listen up Hannah Montana, you are!” You declared, making Joshua laugh.

“Look, you’re a fantastic friend. Wait for not a perfect friend. You are excellent at giving advice. You are also extremely trustworthy! If I’m ever questioning or hesitant about anything, I can always count on you to give me the correct answer!” You rambled, pausing to take a breath before continuing.

“Jokes apart, speaking presently, I know this month hasn’t been too kind on you! I won’t dwell on the girl who shall not be named. I know how she broke you into two. Still, I hope you know that you fucking deserve better than her. She lost a good thing, and that’s on her to regret for the rest of her life, not you. You’re going to meet the perfect girl because you’re the perfect guy,” you breathed out, smiling at Joshua, who was now smiling softly at you.

“I know that sometimes you feel that it’s safer not to show your emotions, but as I said, you’re human. You’re entitled to feel and have every right to express them. I know you might find it much easier to ignore them and not deal with them, but sometimes, it’s not too bad to deal with them. All I want to say is that Joshua, if you ever need anything, a hug, a chocolate bar or a lame joke to cheer you up! Then I’m here! You’re one of my closest friends, and I never want to see you upset!” You exclaimed, pausing to take another breath.

“I love you, Joshua, and before I sort of end this obnoxiously long confession, I want to say that I know you felt that sometimes you weren’t good enough. I want to remind you that you are! You’re good enough, better, and stronger than you give yourself credit for! Thank you for letting me be part of your life,” you exhaled, taking a breath before continuing.

“So all that being said, I guess I’m trying to say something else too,” you mumbled suddenly, feeling your confidence drain out of your body, and Joshua nodded to you.

“What would that be?” Joshua asked, placing his hand on yours. You smiled at him as you decided to leap of faith and inch closer to him.

“I…” you gulped before moving closer. You decided kissing him would be easier than telling him you were head over heels in love with him.

You were about to place your lips on his when you heard her voice,

“Shua, what did you want to talk to me about?” Nia called out, and you looked at Joshua with hurt and betrayal filling your chest.

You got up and stumbled as you tried to move as far away as possible from him.

You could bear your soul to him. You could tell him that you’d take a bullet for him, and you’d still never be enough for him. You’d never be the girl for him. You’d never be her.

“Y/N, stop!” Joshua yelled out, and you shook your head at him.

“No, nothing; I just wanted to tell you you were great. I need to, uh, go. You go get your girl,” you mumbled, your voice betraying you as it cracked, and you could feel hot tears start to run down your face.

You tripped as you tried to run back to the dorms. You were never going to be the one for him.

You weren’t her.

You’d never be her. That’s all you knew as you cried yourself to sleep tonight,

Joshua didn’t come to check in on you either that night, but you knew where he was. Balls deep in Nia, or so you could only guess from the moans you could hear across the halls. He was back with her.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, like most nights, but tonight, you’d stay away from him; he was not yours, and his heart would never be yours.

You barely spoke to Joshua after that night of the final gala. You found out later that he had gotten back together with Nia that night, and so you decided that you’d forget it. Forget him, and heal.

Divider: Five Years Later

Over the years, you thought you had healed, and you wouldn’t think about him every second, and you thought you were fine until your high school reunion.

“Joshua, you’re strong now,” you moaned as Joshua carried you into your hotel room.

Frankly, you weren’t sure how you got here. You had shown up for a university reunion, and you and Joshua picked up from where you left off. It was as if nothing had ever changed.

However, seven drinks in, Joshua started getting flirtier, and you reciprocated his every advance until you were in this exact position, his arms around your waist, waiting to fuck you. You hoped he wouldn’t pinch you at this moment because if it were a dream, you didn’t want to wake up.

“You know what I want to do?” He whispered hotly in your ear, making you shiver in his embrace. “I’m going to finger you, lick you and fuck you till you’re trembling and begging to cum, and even then, I won’t let you cum. I’ll cum inside you and leave you tied to this bed. Your clit throbbing and you’ll be begging for me to let you cum, but I’ll leave you here filled with my cum.”

You whimpered at his words; your pussy ached for his touch. You nodded meekly at him.

Joshua slowly undressed you. He hissed when he saw your swollen pussy lips. He moaned at the scent of your arousal and traced a finger from your clit to your entrance. Gathering the arousal he collected from that simple touch, he put his finger in his mouth and sucked and moaned in approval.

“You taste so good for me, pretty girl.”

He stood up and slid off his clothes, his tanned and toned body, his hard cock long and thick. He climbed back onto the bed and hovered over you.

He placed his hands on your chest, massaging your breasts, making you moan. You didn’t wear a bra, so he felt your nipples harden and groaned in approval.

He slid your top up, exposed your breasts, took one nipple in his mouth and began to suck gently. He then picked up his pace and started to bite and tug at your hardened nipples.

You tried so hard to keep your mouth shut, but his mouth felt so good. You let out a soft moan. This didn’t go undetected by him. He slapped your now exposed clit. Your hips thrust up in response.

His mouth left your chest, and he moved his mouth to your dripping cunt. He started kissing your inner thighs, darting his tongue out and licking every part of you except your aching cunt.

You tried to move in an attempt to get his mouth onto your pussy. He slapped your clit again, except this time, he followed it up by inserting his long finger inside your pussy. You tried to suppress a moan, but it was too much, and you needed him to fuck you senseless.

“Baby girl, I see that you just don’t want to listen,” he said as he inserted another digit. He curled his fingers upright against your g-spot and started moving his wrist up and down. “So make all the noise you want, but you cannot cum.”

He continued his relentless pace and assault on your pussy. He leaned his head down and finally put his tongue on your clit, and you thought you were going to cum right then and there.

His tongue flicked at your clit, before he enclosed his mouth on it, and you lost it. You couldn’t control it, and you came undone on his tongue and fingers. Joshua growled at your release but didn’t ease up on his movements and kept sucking at your now over-sensitive clit.

He removed his mouth from your pussy, but he didn’t ease up with his fingers. He added a third digit and fucked you until you squirted onto his hands. It wasn’t long before the overstimulation turned into pleasure, and you found yourself cumming on his tongue.

You didn’t know how he could make you come undone so quickly and easily. You were shaking and trembling, tears of pleasure rolling down your face.

You couldn’t even coherently mumble out a word or move. You felt so good, and your pussy was still throbbing, and yet you ached for more.

Without letting you get more than a minute to recover, Joshua pushed his length inside you. He let out a growl and proceeded to fuck you, setting a relentless pace. He fucked you hard and fast, his thick cock hitting the right spots each time. He pulled out of you, and you moaned at the loss of contact.

He pushed himself into your dripping and aching pussy. At this point, he was just chasing his release. You finally used your arms to hold onto his broad shoulders as he fucked you into the sheets, your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to go deeper.

He was close. You could tell by the way his thrusts got more uneven. To tease him further, you clenched your pussy around his cock.

Oh, he was pissed.

“Baby girl, is that hard for you to listen?” His hand went to your neck, gently choking you, and he continued fucking you. The breath play only made you reach your high again, and he wasn’t far off either.

He came inside your pussy and stayed still for a little bit. Then pulled out gently, not letting his cum spill out. He moved his body down yours until his mouth reached yours again and stuck his tongue into your cunt and lapped at it until you came again, and he cleaned his cum out from you.

Swallowing, he moved up and pulled you into his arms, and you both lay on the bed.

“How are you, baby? I hope it wasn’t too much for you.”

“Was so good.” You were still basking in the afterglow of your session.

You woke up later that night feeling rather hungry.

Sex does that, you assumed. You noticed Joshua was awake and scrolling through his phone.

“Hey, do you want to grab a bite or something? I’m starving,” you asked, and Joshua sighed, taking a sip of the water you left by the bedside.

“This was a hookup, Y/N; please don’t read into it,” Joshua answered bluntly, and you stood up and walked to find his clothes and threw them at him.

“It was a fucking question, Joshua!” you yelled.

“I know not to hope with you anymore, but I can’t help if my heart doesn’t want to listen. But tonight, you showed me that you’re done, so I want you out,” you snarled, and Joshua nodded, getting dressed quickly and walking out of your door and crushing your heart again.

But that night was long gone, and so was he.

You noticed a heavily decorated envelope sitting on your desk later that evening. You must have collected the mail and not bothered sorting through it. You opened the envelope and held your breath when you saw an invite to Joshua’s wedding.

Joshua weds Yuri the card read, and for once, you felt pain, but unlike the past, it felt dull. It didn’t feel like you were being stabbed in the heart.

You RSVPed as soon as possible. You wanted to go.

So, you did. You watched the ceremony, and the happy couple exchanged their vows, and you approached Joshua to talk outside after the reception.

“I need to talk to you. I didn’t invite you to hurt you. I invited you because you’re a friend,” he started to say, and you nodded.

“Then, as a friend, I need you to listen to me one last time,” you pleaded.

Joshua nodded as he sat down on the bench outside the castle, his actions reminiscent of the time you confessed to him, but this time, it’d be different because you were different. Everything was different now.

“Look, thank you for being so brave throughout the wedding. I know it couldn’t have been easy,” Joshua started to say.

You had to take a deep breath to not scoff at his words. Did he still think you were in love with him after all these years?

Truthfully, you will always love him. He was your first love. How could you ever forget him? How could you forget the nights when he’d pleasure you and look at you like you were the only one in the world? But more importantly, how could you forget the nights when he held you while you cried, wiped away every tear and kissed away every insecurity? How could you forget the boy who made you feel beautiful for the first time?

But most importantly, how could you ever be the boy who kept breaking your heart repeatedly, and yet you kept forgiving him because you hoped that one day he’d wake up and realise that he loved you too?

But it was too late for all of that.

You were standing at his wedding, well outside the chapel, and you watched the entire night as Joshua exchanged his vows with someone who was not you. Your eyes moved to his left hand and zeroed in on the gold band that adorned his long finger, his ring finger. The finger that he’d always leave empty when he wore jewellery because he said he was saving it for someone special, and tonight, he finally found that someone special.

You could never forget Joshua. But it had been ten years, and now you could look at him with a mixture of feelings, hurt, regret, and a multitude of negative emotions. But tonight, what consumed you wasn’t all bad. You also felt free.

Tonight, Joshua gave his word to be with Yuri for the rest of his life and vowed never to leave her, and all while doing that, you felt the shackles of being bound to him loosening.

“I was about to confess to you after graduation seven years ago. I wanted to tell you that I loved you. Not that I think I needed to, I was babbling away how perfect you were, but then she came, and I felt like no matter what I did, there would never be a right time to tell you I love you,” you sighed, smiling at him.

“Over the years, I took it as a sign from the universe; maybe it protected me because the universe knew you’d never love me back, not how I did. After that hookup at the hotel, I said we should grab a bite. The first thing you said to me was that I shouldn’t mistake a hookup for feelings and that Joshua was when I realised that there would be no universe where you’d be mine,” you explained, making Joshua’s expression harden.

“This is my wedding night; I do not need to hear you say something shitty to me on what is the happiest day of my life,” he started to say, raising his voice, and you sighed, sitting down next to him.

“Let me finish,” you said, and Joshua pouted before nodding. “I’m not blaming you, Joshua. Yes, did we do stupid things that made me overthink and convince myself I had a chance, even if it was a glimmer of hope? Sure. But, all you ever were to me was a friend; you were my best friend, and you carried out your duties as a friend,” you explained, placing a hand on his, making him look at you.

“I fell in love with you, Joshua, but that’s not on you. I fell for the tall, gangly boy I met when I was 18, putting you on a pedestal and myself on the back burner. But tonight… Watching you getting married and exchanging your vows didn’t hurt the way I expected it to. It felt liberating,” you continued, making Joshua sigh as he withdrew his hand from you.

“We grew apart a lot, and it helped. It helped me think of you less, and over time, I guess I stopped being in love with you. And tonight, something clicked,” you said, turning to Joshua, who had an unreadable expression.

“What was that?” Joshua asked.

“I fell out of love with you, Joshua. I’ll always care for you, and hell, I’ll always love you, but Joshua, I’m no longer in love with you,” you admitted.

It was true.

Ten years ago, you tied an invisible string and pulled Joshua into your heart, where he stayed for ten years. He broke your heart so many times. Still, you kept him in there, holding onto hope. But tonight, when he said, “I do”, you felt that string lose its strength, inevitably weighed down and frayed over the last ten years, and tonight, it didn’t snap. It just—like your love—let go.

You let go of Joshua, and in turn, you set yourself free. Free from the ‘what ifs’, the nights where you’d cry into your pillow, wishing you were in his arms at night, but you weren’t awake. You laid awake at night thinking of him for so many years, and you felt like you could finally let go tonight.

“You will always have a special place in my heart, but how I loved you was dangerous and harmful. I put you above everyone and myself. I lost myself loving you, and I lost myself trying to be the girl you could love. But over the years and growing up, I realised that sometimes, it’s just not meant to be. And fuck, ten years ago, or even five years ago, that sentiment, the meant-to-be bullshit, would fuck me off, but tonight, I get it,” you explained, feeling tears of relief pool in your eyes.

“I loved you deeply and immensely, but it didn’t work out, and that’s fine because I learned one thing, I’m capable of loving, and one day, I know I’ll get that love back, the kind of love I had for you, undying and unyielding,” you finished off looking at Joshua who smiled sadly at you.

“When did you grow up so much?” Joshua chuckled, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled at him and shrugged.

“Time heals everything, Joshua. I want the best for you. I do. I want you to have the most amazing married life. Never break her heart. Never go to bed mad at each other. Always tell each other you love each other,” you babbled until you felt a tug on your hand, making you look at Joshua.

“I couldn’t force myself to love you the way you loved me, and I won’t say I’m sorry for that, but I’m sorry for hurting you, seeking comfort in you for my selfish needs. You’re so special to me. You were my first friend in university; we have a history, and I want us to maintain that friendship. I want us to grow old as friends and laugh about this memory while we bitch about how annoying our spouses can be,” Joshua said, making you laugh.

It was an honest laugh. It wasn’t forced. It was real. You were healing.

“I’ll take you up on that, but tonight, I’m setting myself free, and you, Joshua, congratulations,” you said, standing up and holding out your arms for a hug.

Joshua smiled softly at you as he pulled you into a hug, and you felt like your broken parts were being squished tightly together and being fixed, but you didn’t need to be fixed.

You just needed to heal.

You kicked off your heels as you entered your apartment later that night, smiling. You didn’t feel broken or upset; you felt free.

Your eyes zeroed in on the notice board in your living room, where you had put up pictures of special people in your life.

You looked at the one you had of Joshua. You took it one night, probably in your first year of university when you started falling in love with him. But it was just him. All the other photos you had with your friends were selfies of you and your friend. Only Joshua was solo, in a way; you kept it that way for so long because, for so long, you held on to the hope that he would one day love you back, and then you could stick a couple’s selfie there.

You smiled at his photo.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward, pulled his photo off your notice board, and replaced it with the Polaroid from the wedding. It was one the happy couple sent out to everyone.

You smiled at the photo in your hand. Joshua would always be that story you could tell ten years later, but tonight, for the first time in a long while, you could sleep without agonising over the ‘what ifs.’ You locked away Joshua’s picture in a drawer where you knew you couldn’t find it even if you tried.

You smiled again at the photo of him and Yuri as you turned around and got ready to sleep. For the first time in a long time, as you lay in bed that night, you didn’t punish yourself, thinking you weren’t enough, assuming you missed every moment. You went to bed knowing that you had a great love. It just wasn’t a perfect love story.

But it was okay.

And you would be, too.

#seventeen fic #seventeen smut #joshua fic #joshua smut #svthub #kvanit

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justlemmeadoreyou · 6 months ago

Text

Double The Cravings*

a/n: this was a request by @cicicavill7 (sorry i didn't post the entire ask it was too long 😭😭😭😭😭)

Summary: you're very pregnant, and harry has to go to a fundraiser. you don't feel like eating because of your growing body, feeling insecure but harry's always there to take care of his pretty pregnant girl.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: smut, fluff. mentions of pregnancy, insecurities. p in v sex, sex while pregnant, creampie, aftercare, kissing.

"You look absolutely stunning, darling."

Harry's warm breath tickled the shell of your ear as his arms wound around your waist from behind. His large hands came to rest reverently on the swell of your pregnant belly, cradling the twins you were carrying.

You bit your lip, smoothing the silky fabric of your dress down self-consciously. While you didn't doubt Harry's sincerity, it was getting harder to feel confident about your changing body lately. Your cravings had been intense and unrelenting, and you felt like you were gaining more weight than a typical pregnancy.

"You really think so?" you asked, unable to mask the uncertainty in your tone as you examined your reflection again. "I feel like this dress is getting a bit snug..."

Harry's brow furrowed, and he turned you to face him, tilting your chin up with one finger. "Of course I think so. Have you looked at yourself? You're glowing, Y/N. Absolutely radiant carrying our babies."

He leaned in and nuzzled his nose against yours affectionately. "I've never seen anything more beautiful than you right now, my pregnant little wife."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, ducking your head bashfully. It was getting more difficult to accept the compliments the further along you got. Your hormones were all over the place and you felt big and awkward rather than the radiant fertility goddess Harry seemed to see.

Sensing your reticence, Harry cupped your face in his large hands, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "I'm serious. You're so bloody gorgeous, Y/N, especially with this new lush, curvy figure of yours." His eyes burned with sincerity and...something darker as they raked over your body. "Gonna let me show you later just how much I appreciate these new assets?"

Despite your fluttering nerves, you felt desire curl low in your belly at the rumbling promise in his gravelly tone. Harry always had a way of making you feel utterly desirable and worshipped.

"If you insist," you murmured demurely, though you knew he could see the want simmering behind your eyes.

Harry groaned, ducking to capture your lips in a searing kiss. "Cheeky girl. You know I do." He punctuated his words with nibbling bites along your jaw. "Going to cherish every new inch of you, angel."

A fluttering in your stomach prevented you from getting too carried away. You placed a hand over Harry's where they still cradled your bump.

"Alright, alright, down boy," you giggled breathlessly. "We've got somewhere to be, remember? And these two are getting impatient."

Chuckling, Harry pressed one more smoldering kiss to the corner of your mouth before releasing you. "Fair point. Shall we, my pregnant goddess?"

With a wink, he offered his arm which you took with an eye roll and a fond smile. Despite your persisting insecurities, you felt reassured by his doting attention as you exited your bedroom.

This fancy fundraiser gala had been on your schedule for months, a can't-miss event Harry had been looking forward to all year. You'd been nervous about going, worried people would judge your ever-expanding figure. But Harry had been adamant that you were going to shine like the stunning, fertile vision you were. Now you were just hoping you could make it through without any embarrassing incidents.

Your breath caught as soon as you stepped into the opulent ballroom of the posh venue, immediately feeling underdressed and frumpy next to the glamour of the high society crowd milling about.

Harry, always in tune with your wavering confidence, leaned over to murmur in your ear. "Try to relax, love. You're the most beautiful woman in the room, and not a single person here holds a candle to you carrying my children."

You flushed at his ardent assurance, trying to calm your nerves as he led you toward the refreshments. Of course, not five minutes after arriving, the doubts began creeping back in.

All of the hors d'oeuvres being offered were deliciously unhealthy, aromas of rich foods and sharp spices assaulting your sensitive, pregnant senses. Your mouth watered just looking at the arrays of canapes, bruschetta, sliders, and mini quiches laid out enticingly.

But your hormonal self-consciousness quickly took over. You worried about stuffing your face and exploding right out of this tight dress, about people watching you pile food onto your plate and whispering behind your back. About looking sloppy and out of control.

So despite the intense cravings rumbling in your stomach, you shyly waved off the passing servers offering treats and settled for sipping some water and nibbling on a few breadsticks. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Harry frowning in concern, his brows drawing together as he watched you avoid most of the appetizers. But he didn't comment, simply squeezing your hand reassuringly and turning to engage in conversation with some donors.

As the evening wore on, your stomach was grumbling so loudly you feared passersby could hear it over the music and mingling voices. Your cravings were getting worse by the minute as you tried desperately to ignore mouthwatering aromas wafting all around. You pressed one palm against your belly, rubbing soothing circles as the babies kicked in protest.

"I know, I know," you whispered, feeling guilty already. You didn't want to deprive your little ones of anything, but the thought of stuffing yourself in front of all these judgemental rich folk had you paralyzed.

You jumped slightly at the feeling of a large hand settling over yours on your bump.

"Everything okay?" Harry ducked his head close, green eyes full of concern as he searched your face. "You've hardly eaten anything all night. Are you feeling ill?"

You bit your lip, averting your gaze briefly as you weighed whether or not to open up to him. After a beat, you decided there was no sense in hiding it; Harry could always see right through you anyway.

"No, it's not that exactly. It's just..." You sighed, gesturing vaguely around the ballroom. "I feel so out of place here. Like everyone's judging me for how big I've gotten already. If I gorge myself on all the food I want, I'll probably tip right over."

A soft, sad look flashed across Harry's face. "Oh, my sweet girl." He pulled you gently into his arms, stroking a soothing hand down your back. "Is that why you've barely touched your plate tonight? Because you're self-conscious?"

You nodded against his chest, comforted by his solid warmth and the faint whiff of his cologne amidst the richer scents of the food. "I know it's ridiculous. I should be listening to my body's needs, not worrying about stupid societal expectations. But I just...I feel huge already, and my cravings have been so intense this pregnancy. I'm scared if I give in, especially to this rich food, I'll get even bigger and--"

"Y/N." Harry pulled back, cupping your cheeks to force you to meet his suddenly intense gaze, brow furrowed sternly. "You listen to me right now, alright? That's nonsense and I won't hear another word about it."

You swallowed thickly at the fierceness in his expression, heat pooling in your belly at the hint of that commanding "dad" tone you'd come to crave during your pregnancy.

"You are...stunning. Incredible," Harry breathed, his warm hands drifting down to splay reverently over your belly, like it was the most precious thing he'd ever held. "Have you looked at yourself lately? You're absolutely glowing, every inch of you fuller and softer and just...exquisite."

His voice lowered to that rumbly timbre that could have you melting even at your horniest. "It's been a struggle to keep my hands off you as you fill out, love. Seeing you all lush and fertile like this..." He groaned softly, burning gaze raking over your body. "It's everything to me, and don't you dare deprive yourself or our babies with these silly hang ups."

You were panting softly by this point, squirming under his heated stare and the blunt weight of his words. Your arousal was a thick, heavy thing thrumming through your veins as Harry laid his desires out before you.

Harry's lips quirked in a heated, knowing smirk. He leaned in close, his plush mouth brushing the shell of your ear. "So I'm going to take you around this buffet...and pile both our plates high with anything and everything you've been craving, my insatiable girl."

A shudder rippled through you at the low, gravelly promise in his voice. Harry nipped at your earlobe teasingly before pulling back, satisfaction glinting in those emerald depths as he took in your flushed cheeks and parted lips. He knew exactly how to unravel you.

"Then tonight, after we get home..." Harry's large hand drifted down to palm your lower belly, fingers splaying possessively. "I'm going to worship every new lush inch of you. Indulge my own cravings for this luxurious fertile body of yours."

You bit your lip on a small whimper, already aching for his touch. This man would be the absolute death of you.

Chuckling darkly, Harry slid his hand into yours and began leading you back towards the lavish buffet spread. Your cravings had reached a fever pitch between his heated words and the enticing aromas surrounding you. Hunger and arousal swirled dizzily within your core.

True to his promise, Harry loaded up two plates with every kind of indulgent treat - rich canapes dripping with cheese and pesto, crispy bacon-wrapped prawns, creamy mushroom vol-au-vents, and far too many miniature quiches and savory tarts to count. When you tried to protest the overflowing portions, he merely fixed you with a stern look until you subsided.

Finally, when not another morsel could be crammed on, Harry handed you your precarious tower of food with a soft smile.

"There we are, my perfect girl," he murmured, stroking a knuckle down your flushed cheek. "Now eat up for me, won't you? Gotta keep your strength up for later."

You swallowed thickly, throat suddenly dry under the heated promise in those guileless green eyes. "Yes, Harry."

The next hour or so passed in a lush, sensual haze. You found a quiet corner to tuck yourselves into, allowing you to relax and satiate your fierce cravings under Harry's reverent, watchful gaze.

With each sinful bite, each savory indulgence on your tongue, you felt your nerves melting away, replaced by the most delicious anticipation. Especially when Harry's eyes would hungrily track the movement of your lips around each morsel, his large hands roaming possessively over the swell of your belly and newly full curves.

More than once, his deft fingers slipped a decadent bite past your lips, emerald gaze darkening in blatant lust each time you laved your tongue along the thick pads to clean away any lingering flavor.

By the time your second plate was nearly cleaned, a delicious lassitude had settled over your limbs. You were absolutely stuffed and sated, the fierce edge finally shorn off your hunger. You felt...content. Sexy, even, the way Harry's heated stare roved over your figure.

Sitting back with a small sound of satiation, you let your free hand drift down to caress your rounded belly. You could've sworn you felt the twins doing pleased little flips and kicks within, satisfied by your indulgence. You smiled tenderly, lifting your eyes to find Harry watching you with naked adoration glowing in his gaze.

"Look at you," he murmured reverently, using his thumb to gently wipe away a stray crumb from the corner of your mouth. "Positively radiant and plump, my gorgeous, well-fed queen."

Then, to your utter delight and arousal, he leaned over and pressed a lingering, openmouthed kiss to the swell of your stomach, humming in contentment. "We'll have to ensure we get you home soon...I have some urgent worshiping of my own to take care of."

By the time you finally tumbled through the door of your flat, lips swollen and gasping from the heated make-out session during the Uber ride, you were both achingly worked up.

No sooner had Harry kicked the door shut behind you than he was pressing you into the wall, large hands roaming greedily over your body. The sound of your muffled moan against his mouth only spurred him on, his grip tightening possessively on your hips.

When you finally parted, panting, his eyes were blown wide with sheer animal need. Harry wasted no time in shucking his jacket and tie, practically tearing apart the buttons of his shirt before moving on to divesting you of your clothes.

Your dress was peeled down over your curves and dropped unceremoniously to the floor in Harry's haste. Soon you were bare before him, the crisp air caressing your flushed, overheated skin and the delicious ache between your thighs.

Harry hissed out a breath, strong hands mapping the lush new terrain of your body with unbridled reverence. He swallowed hard enough for you to see his throat work convulsively.

"Fucking perfection," he grated roughly. His palms smoothed over the gentle swell of your belly, fingers splaying in wonder before sliding up to cup the full, sensitive weight of your tender breasts.

A strangled sound escaped your lips as he rolled the pebbled peaks between his fingertips, the jolt of sensation arrowing straight between your legs.

"Look at you, love," Harry crooned, nudging your thighs apart to slide one thick, muscular thigh between them. You cried out softly, canting your hips to ride the delicious friction provided by his leg. "All lush and fertile and utterly exquisite. Made to be lavished and cherished. To be devoured."

His mouth was on yours again, hot and wild and devouring you just as promised. You dimly felt him undoing his trousers, kicking them and his pants aside until he was finally as bare as you.

Then Harry was everywhere His huge hands spanned your back in a heated caress as his mouth mapped every new heavenly curve and swell of your body. His broad shoulders rippled between your splayed thighs, tongue swirling hotly over your peaked nipples until you were mewling. And still he paid reverence to your heavy, aching breasts and rounded belly, pressing fervent, worshipful kisses over every inch.

By the time the slick, insistent pressure of his cock nudged against your dripping entrance, you were already trembling all over, heat coiled impossibly tight in your core.

"Let me properly cherish you, my queen," Harry rumbled, the words a gravelly prayer as he slowly, achingly buried himself to the hilt within your welcoming heat. You both groaned in unison, your walls fluttering maddeningly around his thick length as he stretched and filled you completely.

That first slow drag nearly had you shattering right then and there. Each thick inch of Harry's cock glided along every perfectly swollen, sensitive inch of you as he thrust home, dragging against that sweetest spot inside over and over again.

His large hands cupped your ass, hips rolling in a torturously languid grind, burying himself deeper with every unhurried stroke. He was devouring you from the inside out, cherishing every silken inch, and the utter reverence in his gaze as he drank in your pleasure had you spiraling higher.

When one hand came up to cup the flushed, damp curve of your cheek, the tender intimacy of it nearly undid you.

"I love you," Harry breathed, mouth finding yours in a claiming, soul-deep kiss as his hips picked up their pace, driving into you with reckless abandon now. "All of you, every lush curve. My everything, my goddess, my gorgeous wife. Mine."

You were powerless against the tide of sensation and emotion Harry wrung from you, spiraling higher and quaking apart on a broken cry of his name. Your climax swamped you with blinding pleasure, pulling Harry right over that dizzying edge with you as your convulsive inner walls dragged him under.

He buried his face in the curve of your neck with a soul-deep groan, hips jerking erratically as he poured himself into you. You clung to him as if he was the only thing anchoring you to this world while wave after wave of bliss wracked your joined forms.

By the time the tremors finally began to ebb, you were both slumped bonelessly against the wall, sweaty and utterly spent. Harry shifted just enough to pull you more securely into his arms, face still buried in your neck as you both caught your breath.

Gradually, he began nuzzling soft, reverent kisses along the slope of your shoulder, across your collarbone, up the column of your neck. His large hands stroked soothingly over your back, your sides, cradling you close against his solid warmth.

"My everything," Harry murmured, the words a hushed vow against your overheated skin. "So incredible, so loved."

You hummed softly in contentment, nosing into the damp curls at his temple as you basked in the afterglow. Despite the lingering tremors shooting through your limbs, you felt completely at peace bundled in Harry's embrace.

One of his hands drifted down to settle over the swell of your belly, fingertips tracing idle patterns across the taut skin. "Thank you, darling," he said quietly. "For taking such wonderful care of our littles ones. For giving me this precious gift."

Tilting your head, you met his shining emerald gaze with a tender smile. "As if you need to thank me for that. This—" You placed your hand atop his, cradling the firm roundness. "This is our gift, H. One I'll never stop being grateful for."

Harry's face did that crinkly thing where his eyes squinted with the force of his smile. Leaning in, he brushed his lips sweetly, reverently across yours.

"I love you incredibly, Y/N. Every inch of you, always."

Those words, combined with the sheer depth of adoration in his gaze, had your heart turning over in your chest. You tucked yourself further into his solid frame, relishing his strength and the soothing drag of his fingers over your sated body.

"I love you too," you whispered. "More than anything."

You stayed like that for a long while, trading soft caresses and murmured endearments, until Harry insisted on getting you into a warm bath to relax properly. He drew the water himself while you waited on the plush bed, arranging the tray of sumptuous treats leftover from the gala.

When he emerged wearing only a towel slung low on his hips, you felt your breath catch at the sheer masculine beauty of him. Harry merely quirked an amused brow at your reaction before holding out one large hand.

"Shall we, gorgeous? I'll even feed you those petit fours you've been eyeing, if you'reopen to it."

You took his proffered hand with a giggle, allowing him to lead you to the ensuite bathroom where aromatic oils wafted through the air and the enormous tub awaited. Harry situated you between his legs, your back to his chest, before plucking one of the miniature chocolate cakes from the tray nearby.

He presented the treat before your lips with a soft, "Open up, darling," and you obliged with a smug grin. The rich sweetness melted over your tongue as you accepted each bite Harry slipped past your lips with careful reverence.

Eventually, you drifted off into a light doze, replete and cocooned in Harry's tender embrace. He continued soothing you with quiet praise and gentle caresses, not even bothering to rouse you until the bath water started to cool.

You awoke to Harry murmuring instructions to dry off and slip into some comfy pajamas. He watched you through hooded eyes as you complied, admiring the new softness and curves that pregnancy had gifted you. With a tender smile, he ushered you back toward the bedroom, already turned down and cozy.

As you snuggled beneath the plush duvet, Harry slid in behind you, his chest warm against your back and one large palm splaying over the firm swell of your belly. You sighed in pure contentment, feeling cherished and utterly adored.

"I meant what I said earlier, you know," Harry rumbled, the words a quiet rumble against your nape. His thumb stroked soothing arcs over your stomach. "This new lush, fertile body of yours is utter perfection. I'll never stop worshipping it, worshipping you."

You bit your lip on a pleased smile, arching back against his solid frame. His free hand slid around to cup your breast, and you shivered at the careful, weighted touch.

"Let me take such good care of you both," he murmured, ducking his head to trail kisses along the sensitive curve of your neck as he cradled your heavy breast. "Make sure you stay well-fed in every way, satisfied, comfortable...like the goddesses you are."

With a blissful sigh, you melted fully into Harry's tender embrace. Every word, each featherlight caress was a balm to the lingering worries of your earlier self-consciousness. He adored this pregnancy body - round and soft and beautiful - and you knew he would move heaven and earth to ensure you felt utterly cherished and revered through it all.

Safe and loved in Harry's arms, you allowed your eyes to slip closed once more, reassured that whatever cravings or changes came next, you wouldn't face them alone. You'd meet them together.

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authorhjk1 · 5 months ago

Note

In regards to Jihyo's new relationship. Could you write how they met through mutual friend that leads up to them working out together and much more. Gym sex would be great.

(whether using his name or "Y/n" is fine)

My Girlfriend

(Park Jihyo X Male Reader)

The first time you saw her, you thought nothing of it. Yeah, sure. She is a famous singer, an idol. Not just in Korea, but the whole world. A beautiful, talented woman in a whole group of beautiful and talented women. But you never expected all of this to happen.

"I'm taking your silence as a yes, then?"

You blink. Once. Twice.

And you remember that one day. That one day a month ago. When she greeted you with a simple

"Hi."

Park Jihyo gave you a loving smile, although the two of you just met.

"Jihyo, it's a pleasure to meet you."

You stared at her hand a second too long, but you eventually took it

"(Y/n). The pleasure is mine."

Jihyo chuckled. You didn't expect to be greeted this formally. After all, you were just there to celebrate with the father to be. He is a good friend of yours and, as it turns out, a childhood friend of Jihyo's.

"You know her, right?"

You glanced at your friend, before looking back at her. Jihyo looked stunning. Her hair flew down her naked shoulder, her face was decorated with a smile that played around her lips. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement.

"Of course I do!"

That came out more defensive than you thought it would.

It made both of them laugh.

"Well, I did tell her she is your bias."

He seemed to be enjoying your embarrassment.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. You never actually thought you had a chance to meet her. But you dreamed about it more than just once. This wasn't it though. You were supposed to look cool or something. Like, impressive. Maybe wearing a suit, while you walk up to her confidently, asking for her number on the street. Or working out and she would walk in and see you.

Or anything else. But this was just weird. The two of you sitting next to each other at a party in a chicken restaurant. Your friend to your right and his wife opposite from him. Jihyo to your left. And the rest of the chairs were filled with the couple's friends. You knew some. But some were also strangers. Just like Jihyo. Well, not really. You felt like you already knew her.

"And I appreciate that. Thank you very much. It's always great to see a Once."

Jihyo patted your shoulder, while smiling at you. Your embarrassment got replaced by butterflies in your stomach. How can she be so beautiful?

"I-I hope you enjoy yourself tonight."

You groaned internally. What was that? That was really lame. But how were you supposed to answer?

"Thank you, you too."

Jihyo kept her smile on as the two of you raised your glasses.

"Cheers."

You were always a little awkward around women, especially when they were as beautiful as Jihyo. But with a little bit of alcohol and some internal speeches about bravery, you actually did manage to keep talking to her for almost the entirety of the night. You were glad the two of you hit it off and it seemed like Jihyo really enjoyed your kind of humor. As the night progressed, you realized that this might actually turn into more than just a spontaneous one on one fan meet.

"Please. Stop. It hurts."

Jihyo kept giggling and laughing, while you told her a joke or a funny story about yourself. For some reason, she was able to tell when you were actually sincere and when you were exaggerating. At one point, she started to hold her stomach, while you were about to get to the climax of your current story.

"Let's have one last toast, before we all go home."

Both of your smiles faded, when you realized that the party was ending. And with that, also your time together.

After the toast, Jihyo stood up and you did the same, trying to be a gentleman, until the very last moment, you helped her with putting on her jacket, before walking her outside.

"I had a great time today."

Jihyo exclaimed, taking a deep breath of the midnight air. It was a little cold, but still comfortable.

"Me too. The party was nice."

"I'm not talking about the party."

"No?"

You pretended to be confused, looking around.

"If you weren't at the party, where is Jihyo then?"

You made her laugh again.

"Jihyo!"

You yelled, not very loud, in the direction of the restaurant you had just stepped out of.

"Stop it!"

Jihyo laughed, slightly embarrassed, because a couple of people were still walking by.

"You can't just start screaming in the middle of the night!"

The two of you exchanged a short giggle as you felt the energy slowly escape the scene. It's that feeling, when you just left a party or an event and you are kinda excited to go home. That kind of feeling. Jihyo seemed to feel it too, since she slightly turned towards a direction, probably where she came from, to signal you that she wanted you to walk with her.

While the two of you walked side by side through the sleeping city, the two of you barely talked. Jihyo didn't need to ask, if you were going to walk her home. She didn't drink that much, but it was still the middle of the night. And you didn't care that you would had to walk home longer than usual. After all, it gave you more time with Jihyo.

Eventually, the two of you did reach her apartment complex. She seemed reluctant to just say goodbye. Instead, she looked to the ground, before turning towards you.

"You haven't told me how the story ends."

"Hm?"

You zoned out for just a moment. The slight buzz, this gorgeous woman and the night air made you feel like you were walking on clouds.

"The story, remember? Just before we walked home. I really want to hear the end."

It took you a moment. You were just about to tell her right then and there, when you suddenly realize what she was hinting at. Her eyes, big and dark, were looking up at you as if she was asking you for something. To read between the lines.

"Well, the story is quite long. And it's too late to tell you the rest of it now."

You paused for just a second, trying to figure out, if you read her words correctly. But Jihyo only showed you her usual friendly smile.

"Why don't you... Well, why don't you give me your number and we figure something out?"

You spoke a little faster than you wanted to. Jihyo definitely caught onto your nervousness.

"Sure. Why don't we do that?"

Her smile now seemed to tease you a little.

"Great. Just let me get-"

"But maybe you should give me your number. Because of my schedule and stuff."

You nodded hesitantly. Were you reading her wrong? Is that her strategy for people who aren't idols and ask for her number? So she doesn't get bombarded with texts and calls?

"I'm not playing you."

She seemed to have looked through you once more.

"I really did enjoy the party."

Once again, her eyes were telling you that it was in fact, once again, not about the party.

"Alright, then."

You took the phone out of her hand and started to put your number in.

"I'm just letting you know right now, that I'm a very busy man. I barely have time at all. Only during the night. So if you want to hang out then..."

You gave her her phone back with a cheeky grin as you hear her laugh.

"Yeah, sure. Me too. I'm usually available between 11 pm and 2 am."

The two of you looked into each other's eyes for a moment, until Jihyo cleared her throat. Or maybe you were just staring.

"Anyways, I better get home now. Busy schedule tomorrow."

"Yeah, same same. Ton of work to do."

Your exaggerated tone made her shake her head.

"Good night. I will text you soon."

"Sleep tight."

You planned on just waiting for her to enter the building. But instead of leaving, Jihyo suddenly stepped towards you. Before you could react, she was already standing on her tiptoes, giving your right cheek a kiss. Her soft lips seemed to heat up your whole body.

This was the fourth time within the last three weeks that you entered Jihyo's apartment complex, not counting the night you had met. The two of you met up a couple of times by now. Your first date included a cup of coffee and a walk around the park near her company. For the second one, you took Jihyo out to dinner and you were surprised by how good she looked in a long, black backless dress. She ordered ice cream for desert. But while she ate, she was complaining about how she would have to work out more, if she ate so many calories. And that's how the two of you talked about your workouts a little. One thing let to another and here you were. You're not just dating Park Jihyo, you were now also her newly appointed gym buddy.

"You started with out me?"

You walked over to her as you saw Jihyo sitting on the floor in a corner of the studio, trying to catch her breath.

"Just a little. You are late."

You quickly checked your watch.

"I'm not. You're early."

You finally reached her, towering over her.

"Guilty."

She gave you a cheeky smile, wiggling her eyebrows. You leaned down, softly raising her chin with a finger. Closing your eyes, you felt your lips meet. Her warm breath mixed with yours, her scent lingering in the air around you.

Not your first kiss. Not your first kiss with Jihyo. And yet the best you've had so far. Not just with her. But because of her.

A couple of moments later, you helped her off the ground, without missing the opportunity to admire her body.

"Got you something."

Jihyo reached for her bag and you watched as she took something out of it.

"Here. Thought it might help."

"This is a towel."

You said in disbelief. Not because you didn't appreciate it. But because this was completely unexpected.

"Yeah, I know. I bought it for you."

A grin played around her lips, probably because of your dumb look.

"Don't play with me. I saw your commercial two days ago. I'm sure they threw these after you when you went home."

Jihyo rolled her eyes in a playful manner.

"It doesn't work like that, you know? They don't just give me anything, just because I model for them."

For some reason, you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you are dating a famous person. A singer, a dancer, a model and much more. You never expected to hear these kind of words from you girlfriend. Sorry, gym buddy.

"Plus, you should check out the back, before you judge me."

Jihyo suddenly gave you a cute pout, before walking away, leaving you standing.

You turned the towel around and there it was. Your name. She actually had put a lot of thought into this. You had told her, that your towel got stolen while you worked out before.

"Jihyo!"

You chased after her.

Throughout the next two hours, people came and went, while you and Jihyo focused on working out. You were able to resolve the towel debate quickly, knowing that Jihyo doesn't like to stay mad for long.

Eventually, you found yourself lying on a bench, after just having worked on your arms. Jihyo walked over to you, handing you your new towel.

"Thanks."

You mumbled, still breathing heavily as you wiped your face.

"We should work out this later more often."

You looked up at her words, scanning the gym. She was right. Except for you and Jihyo, there was no one here anymore.

"Yeah, it's nice to be alone with you."

Your eyes shot back up at her. Jihyo's eyebrow was raised, a cocky grin on her face.

"I mean, it's nice to work out with you alone, you know? No one disturbing us..."

"Mhm."

Jihyo chuckled, before turning around. She stepped towards a bench nearby. Placing one knee and one hand on it, she grabbed a dumbbell and resumed her workout.

After what had happened, you couldn't help but look at her for a couple of moments longer. And you soon realized that Jihyo was in a quite interesting position. Despite her loose sweat pants, you had quite the view.

There had been more than just a couple of times you thought you had been caught, when you looked at her chest maybe a little too long. The two of you hadn't been intimate with each other, except for kissing. And none of you brought it up so far, but there was definitely tension there. So this almost felt like an invitation, but also like a coincidence at the same time. Jihyo could've faced the other way. She must have known that you could see her butt through her pants. Or maybe she did this on purpose, because otherwise, you would've been able to look directly into her cleavage? But then again, she would have been able to see that. So...

You were over thinking again. This tends to happen, whenever you are with Jihyo. You don't want to mess this up.

"You can touch me, if you want."

Your hart dropped mid beat.

"Huh?"

You were now very aware that the gym's walls are covered with mirrors. Fuck.

Through one of those, Jihyo was looking directly at you. A, what seemed to be naughty smile, played around her lips.

"Don't just stare. Touch."

"Well, I don't want to- I mean, I did-didn't mean to-"

Jihyo rolled her eyes.

"Your part time innocence can be very charming. But right now, I don't want you to be innocent."

Now, she looked at you over her shoulder.

"I want you to touch me."

You quickly looked around, making sure that no one was there. Reaching forward, you felt the soft fabric of her pants and the firmness of her ass. You saw Jihyo biting her lip as you placed your other hand on her cheeks as well.

"That's it."

She sighed, stopping mid work out to enjoy your groping of her butt.

Now that you felt the ass cheeks of one of the most beautiful women on earth in your hands, you decided to push your luck a little. After all, she had told you to not be this innocent.

"The cameras don't do you justice. Usually, your front is the focus."

You saw Jihyo smirk in the mirror. She knee what you are trying to hint at.

"Go on then."

Jihyo turned around and your hands fell off her ass. But the disappointment only lasted for a second, when Jihyo straddled the bench, now fully turned towards you.

"Touch me."

You reached for her chest this time, feeling the fabric of the pink sports bra, before you squeezed her boobs.

"Right there."

Jihyo let out a moan as her head dropped back.

You enjoyed yourself for a while, squeezing and kneading her tits. Eventually you leaned forward and kissed her shoulders. Then, you moved downwards, while you let your thumbs graze over her clothed nipples.

"Oh, god."

Another moan escaped her lips.

Just when you were about to place your lips on the top of her tits for the first time, Jihyo leaned back a little.

"Not so fast."

She reached forward herself, this time. You felt her hand palming your cock over your shorts.

"Ladies first."

You gladly left her tits this time, while Jihyo glid off the bench she was sitting on. Now on her knees, she quickly pulled off your pants. A smile played around her lips as she leaned down to give your clothed cock a kiss.

Your pants and underwear were quickly taken care of and Jihyo was greeted with your cock.

"Nice."

She murmured, before kissing it again.

You couldn't believe that she was actually doing this. Right here. In a public gym. You were getting a blowjob in a public gym. By Park Jihyo. It was still unreal to you, even when she wrapped her lips around your dick.

"Jihyo, I-"

"Shh!"

She let your cock fall out of her mouth and looked up at you.

"Just relax, baby."

You took a shakey breath and watched her resume her work. Her lips glid along the length of your shaft. One hand held your base, while the other stroked your thigh in a soothing motion.

Jihyo was going slow as she lovingly took care of your cock. Her eyes were closed by now, enjoying your dick as she sucked you off.

You sat on the bench, your toes curling. You needed some kind of outlet for your pleasure. You didn't know where to put your hands. Behind you? Or...

You reached forward, placing both of them on Jihyo's head. She moaned around your cock, sending small vibrations through your entire body.

"God."

You sighed as your head rolled back. Jihyo's lips reached her fingers around your base, whenever she moved down. It made your tip graze her throat. Her muscles squeezed your cock.

Eventually, Jihyo let your dick fall out of her mouth.

"I need you."

She quickly straddled your lap, your cock resting against her tummy. As she looked down, she bit her lip, seeing how deep you could go.

"Take these off me."

Jihyo motioned towards her pants and you quickly pulled off her waistband.

"Wait."

You stopped midway, looking up at her.

"Do you have protection?"

Jihyo slowly shook her head, a disappointed look on her face.

Your hands were still on her waist. And you could tell you're only a small tug of her pants away from seeing her pussy.

"But I have some upstairs."

Once she remembered that she had some in her room, her face lit up.

"Hurry."

You lied in Jihyo's bed, catching your breath. She lied next to you, her finger drawing circles on your naked chest. It was quite for a while, except for your breathing. You stared at the ceiling, eyes wide open.

"Wow."

Jihyo laughed, lifting her head off your shoulder.

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know."

You shruged your shoulders.

"I didn't think it would be... You know? This good."

"Is that a compliment?"

A teasing smile greeted you as Jihyo looked up at you.

"Yeah."

She rolled her eyes, her head resting on your shoulder again.

"I liked the workout too."

"Oh, totally. The workout."

You pretended to be oblivious to her raised eyebrow.

"But I liked what happened afterwards way more."

Jihyo scoffed with a smile on her face.

You felt her tits press against your side as she snuggled closer.

"This is great cardio, you know? Maybe we could cut the workouts short from now on."

"Doe's this mean we will do this again?"

You were surprised at Jihyo's suspicious tone. Didn't she trust you?

"Of course. Why wouldn't we?"

"Well, I guess you just experienced what every fan could wish for. I wouldn't be surprised if I never see you again."

"That hurts. Why would you think I would just leave?"

"You won't?"

Jihyo looked up at you again.

"Of course not."

You shook your head.

"I've always liked you. Even before I met you in person. Why would I leave you now?"

"Fine."

You were surprised at how quickly you had just convinced her.

The two of you lied for a while in silence, before you heard Jihyo speak again.

"There is just one more thing."

You watched her as she pointed at her alarm clock on her nightstand.

"Judging by how late it is, you won't be going home tonight."

You were planning on going home, actually. But it seemed like that was not gonna happen now. You didn't expect to be this close to her already. Yes, you just had sex. But sleeping in the same bed? You didn't know each other's sleeping habits and-

"And if you leave my room tomorrow, you will meet at least some of the girls."

You gulped after her words just interrupted your thoughts. Right. The rest of Twice. You could already feel your nervousness rise, just thinking about them. The fact that you were lying with Jihyo in bed, naked, was already a miracle.

"So..."

You heared her hesitate. Her eyes locked on the door as if she was too shy to look at you.

"Should I introduce you as my boyfriend?"

You were stunned. Despite dating Jihyo, you never thought you would get this far with her. Was she really asking you to be her boyfriend? You? The ordinary guy, whom she had met by chance? You are not an idol. You're not rich. You had always thought that this wasn't that serious for Jihyo. You expected every idol to be with a rich guy or at least another idol.

"I'm taking your silence as a yes, then?"

"Oh, god. Keep going."

Jihyo moans into your neck as you sit on the bench you were just working out on, Jihyo in your lap. The hole in her leggings is the product of her earlier advances, which you silenced with a forceful rip of her clothing. It now enables you to hold onto her firm butt, which seems to look and feel even better in her tight leggings, while you lift Jihyo up and down as if you are still working out.

The last couple of weeks, since that first time, have been like this. The two of you meet up to work out together up to six days a week. All of these sessions end with the two of you, going to town on some of the gym's equipment.

But it's not like that's the only thing the two of you do. You spend quality time together, going on dates, hanging out at your place and sometimes even at hers.

You feel Jihyo's hands glide over your biceps as she feels your cock deep inside of her. The both of you are sweaty, your bodies covered with a slim layer of sweat.

You kiss Jihyo, just in case someone comes in, to stop her from moaning too loud. As you keep squeezing her cheeks through her leggings, she bites your lip, making you groan into her mouth.

"Your cock is so deep inside me."

Jihyo whispers against your lips, after the two of you break away for air. The recent workout and this little session are tests for both of your lungs. Her heavy breathing matches yours as the two of you lock eyes.

"Jihyo..."

You want to tell her that you're close already. That you don't have much more inside of you. You're close to your climax and your arms are slowly giving up too. It's a mix of pain and pleasure.

"No! Not yet! I need more, baby."

Another kiss leaves the both of you with even less air. But you can feel yourself getting slower.

"Don't cum yet."

Another kiss. Slower.

Eventually, Jihyo signals you to stop. Your arms burn like fire. Not because she is heavy, but because of your prior workout. You barely manage to lift her off your lap.

"I think we need to give you a little break."

With a knowing smile, Jihyo looks at you while leading you towards the leg press.

The two of you must have defiled every single equipment in this gym by now. And the leg press is no exception. Some of your after workout sessions actually start right there. When Jihyo stands above you, making sure you don't drop your weight. And you have the best view of her nice firm butt, hugged by leggings, which are almost too tight for her.

You lie down, just like you usually do. Jihyo stands above you. But instead of watching your weight, she lowers herself, until she sits on your face. At the same time, you dart your tongue out and taste her pussy. You groan at the familiar taste, sending a shiver up her spine.

"That's a good boy."

Jihyo sighs as she feels your tongue roam her pussy, while your hands hold onto her juicy thighs.

Both of your bodies are marked by your countless hours in the gym. You take health and working out equally seriously. Jihyo's thighs and ass are just a couple of benefits that result from that. And she loves to feel your biceps, or your abs, when you pull her back against your stomach and she feels your hard muscles on her back.

Now, Jihyo moans and sighs on top of you as you eat her out. You know that Jihyo only cums two ways. When you lick every spot in her pussy, or when you fuck her hard and rub her clit at the same time. And your tongue in her pussy aims to finish her by using the first option.

No spot stays untouched as you lap up any of her juices that dribble out of her. As you let your tongue glide along her folds. As you bury it inside of her. It all has only one purpose. And soon, you are witness to the result.

"Oh, god! Baby!"

You feel Jihyo's legs shake around you, your hands still holding onto them. She lowers herself even further, unable to lift her own weight now. Your nose slightly grazes her clit, your tongue invades her pussy as deep as it can. And then, you push Jihyo over the edge.

"Yes! Right there, make me cum!"

Her juices flood your open mouth as your girlfriend orgasms on top of you. Her thighs threaten to squeeze you to death as you try to pull them apart. Her load moans echo through the gym.

A couple of moments later, you've moved on already. Jihyo is now lying on a bench, her legs draped over the barbell above her head. Your short break enables you to fuck her hard and fast, while her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her ripped leggings give you another beautiful view of her beautiful pussy, taking your cock beautifully.

"Baby, baby, baby!"

Jihyo half cries half sings as you make the bench rock back and forth to the rhythm of your thrusts.

You put your white towel underneath her. The one with your name on it. You don't want to make a mess like two weeks ago. You almost had to buy a new leather cover for the bench.

"Oh, god!"

Jihyo's back arches off the bench. She pushes her chest towards you in the process. If she didn't have her top on, you would be all over her. But right now, you are completely fine with just fucking her tight pussy.

You want to feel them though, you realize, as Jihyo keeps arching her back. One of your hands moves towards her chest. Another loud moan escapes her beautiful lips as she feels you, groping her tits through the fabric.

Your other hand reaches between her legs, just above the hole in her leggings. Your thumb brushes over her clit underneath the fabric.

"Right there!"

Jihyo immediately reaches another plateau of pleasure.

"Keep going! Don't stop!"

Her whines make you go faster. Your hips crashing into hers as you bottom out inside of her with every thrust.

Your thumb on her clit and your hand on her tits add to the pleasure your cock is giving her. Your girlfriend eventually succumbs to the overwhelming sensation.

Jihyo can feel her orgasm slowly approaching.

"Oh, baby! Yes! Almost there!"

You keep fucking her as she closes in on her climax. Your thumb on her clit keeps rubbing her. Jihyo's legs seem to push against the barbell as she orgasms.

"Oh, god."

You can't help, but let out a groan yourself as you feel Jihyo's tight pussy squeezing your cock. Her juices start to spill out of her. They cover your cock, your lower body. But most of it lands on your towel underneath her. You watch how the white fabric around your name becomes soaking wet.

The sight of your girlfriend, climaxing around your cock, drives you towards your own orgasm as well.

"Jihyo, I'm gonna-"

"Cum in my mouth, baby. I wanna taste your cum."

It takes a moment to get her legs off the barbell and the rest of her body off the bench underneath it. But eventually, Jihyo does kneel in front of you.

She pulls off your condom as she looks up at you.

"Cum for me, baby."

Her big eyes, pleading for your cum, don't give you much of a choice. As soon as Jihyo sticks her tongue out, it only takes her a couple of strokes, until she makes you climax.

You groan as you watch how your cum hits her tongue and the inside of her mouth. Jihyo takes it all, until your knees are weak and you are completely spend. Using her tongue, she pushes your cum around in her mouth a couple of times, before she swallows.

You watch as her body moves to the rhythm of the song. For a moment, your view is blocked by Sana, but you can soon see Jihyo again.

It's an honor to be able to watch Twice's dance practice live. You just came here to pick up your girlfriend, so you two could have your scheduled date. But you didn't expect traffic to be this good, so you got here early.

You lean your head against the wall behind you as you feel your cock slightly harden. Jihyo's body roll reminds you of how she rides you in bed. The way her hips sway, when she turns around, the way she throws her hair back while dancing. Her smile, her wink towards the mirror, her hand that glides down her body, tracing her curves. All of these things make you shift around on the sofa in the corner of Twice's practice room.

You almost forget the other members. The song moves into the background. For a brief moment, you consider sneaking out and finding a quiet place to let go of your now build up tension. Maybe the men's room...

The music comes to a hold in that very moment.

You let out a deep breath as you see the girls turn towards the mic case that's next to you. You're suddenly very aware that you're still hard. They were practicing for an upcoming performance, so Jihyo's outfit makes matters even worse.

"Stop staring at her."

Sana giggles as she catches you.

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. The other members grin and giggle as well. Jihyo can't hide a smile.

"Stop teasing him, Sana."

"What?"

The Japanese girl plays innocent.

"He can stare as much as he wants."

To your surprise, Jihyo gracefully takes her seat on your lap.

She usually isn't that fond of skin ship in front of her members. Partially because Sana is unbearable, once she finds a reason to make fun of Jihyo.

"I bet he does."

Sana wiggles her eyebrows, while the other members pack their things.

You involuntarily clear your throat as Jihyo shifts around a little. Her firm cheeks rub against your erection. There is no doubt she must have felt it already.

"As long as you don't make too much noise again tonight..."

A cold shiver runs down your spine as you and Jihyo hear Tzuyu's whisper.

"Yah!"

Jihyo is now embarrassed as well.

Eventually, you and Jihyo are the only ones in the room. The other girls already left. But not without teasing the two of you. If you heard it correctly, Nayeon even offered Tzuyu a pair of earbuds.

"Let's skip the date."

"What? Why?"

Jihyo is still sitting in your lap, your arms around her waist.

"I'm not that hungry yet. I think I'll have to work out a little more."

Her teasing smile makes you smile as well. Until you remember.

"I already reserved a table."

Your girlfriend shrugs her shoulders.

"So?"

"I love this side of you."

Jihyo looks back at you.

"Let's get out of here."

The two of you decided on your place. Especially after all the teasing. But you never made it past your living room.

"Do they feel good?"

Jihyo looks up at you, waiting for an answer.

Your cock is buried inside her cleavage as you sit on your couch, while Jihyo kneels in front of you.

"God, Jihyo."

Why does she even have to ask?

Your girlfriend uses her hands to press her tits together, while she moves up and down. Her soft skin makes your head fall onto the backrest. You see stars, when Jihyo darts her tongue out to lick your tip.

"Wait, don't-"

You're interrupted by another lick.

Your shakey breath makes Jihyo chuckle. You're somewhat embarrassed that she doesn't need to do much for you to orgasm quickly. But she already told you, it's actually a compliment. And, even if you're about to cum early, you can always take a short break and focus on her pleasure.

To be honest, though. Who could blame you? No one would last long with Jihyo.

"Get up here."

A smile plays around her lips as she rises from your carpet and quickly gets onto your lap once again. You feel her ass cheeks rub against your cock, which doesn't help your current state.

Trying to focus on something else, you lean down and take one of her nipples into your mouth.

"Baby..."

Jihyo sighs as she holds your head with one hand, while the other rests on your shoulder. As you keep sucking on both of her tits, she eventually starts grinding against your thigh. Her naked body on top of yours searches for as much pleasure as it can get. You feel her slight wetness on your thigh.

"Keep going..."

Another sigh and you switch sides once more. You hold both of them in your hands, kneading them occasionally.

Jihyo shamelessly pleasures herself with your thigh, while you kiss and lick her tits. Her pussy becomes wetter, the longer she keeps grinding against you.

"Baby, I need you in me. Now."

Your hands move to her waist, giving her a silent approval. Slowly pulling Jihyo off of you, you lie her on the couch.

"Turn around."

Jihyo does as you tell her. She is now lying on her stomach, while you kneel behind her.

You quickly put on the condom, before slowly sliding into her warmth. The both of you moan at the same time as you penetrate her pussy. You ease yourself into Jihyo further.

"Fuck me good."

Your hands grab each a handful of her ass cheeks.

"Trust me. I will."

You give Jihyo one powerful thrust, while holding onto her ass.

Your girlfriend's head sinks into the sofa.

You hear a muffled moan as you start to fuck her properly. As you drive yourself as deep as possible, you notice how deep you can actually go in this position. Your sofa absorbs moan after moan as Jihyo shakes underneath you.

You are unable to play with her clit in this position. Lucky for her though, your thrusts are powerful enough for her to rock back and forth on the couch. The hard fabric does your job for you.

Looking past Jihyo's ass, you notice how the light material underneath her is turning darker.

"Damn, forgot the blanket."

You only hear another moan as response. Her heavy breathing against the sofa echoes through the room. Alongside the clapping of her cheeks against your hips. While holding onto them with both hands, you marvel at how beautiful they are.

You completely forget the blanket as you knead them a little. Who can blame you? In your opinion, everyone doesn't appreciate her ass enough. Jihyo always gets attention for her chest. Rightfully so, no doubts there. But if they could only see what you see right now...

You haven't tried it before, but you suddenly have the urge. Without thinking, you raise a hand and let it drop onto her right cheek. A particularly loud moan encourages you to strike her other cheek. Alternating between both of them, you soon turn Jihyo's skin a light a shade of red.

A couple of moments later, she trembles underneath you. Harder than before. Her hips slightly raise off the sofa, she raises her head to moan your name. And she drenches your sofa in even more of her juices.

Jihyo orgasms while calling out for you. You keep a tight grip on her cheeks as you fuck her through it. When she starts to talk again, it's hard for you to make out what she is trying to say.

"P-Please...."

Another thrust makes her head rock back and forth, like one of those dolls.

"C-Cum..."

Is she asking for another orgasm? Jihyo usually isn't that greedy.

"Back... C-Cum..."

You have to admit that it takes you a while to understand her. To be fair, you're not in the best state of mind yourself, right now.

"C-Cum...on.....my...."

Another particularly deep thrust makes Jihyo shreek, her head dropping onto the couch again.

You hope you heard her correctly, because you don't have time to ask her to repeat it. The wonderful sight of her ass and her tight pussy, its walls stretching around your cock, make it hard to keep back your own orgasm for long.

Trying to hold on longer, you start counting your thrusts. You don't reach ten.

As Jihyo's walls tighten around you further, as you drive yourself as deep into her as you can, as you knead her cheeks, you finally have to pull out.

Throwing your condom behind you just in time, you barely get to aim your cock properly. As you do orgasm, your cum shoots all over Jihyo's back. Her back muscles, which you can see, due to her many workouts. You paint them with your cum.

Both of you catch your breaths as you lean against the backrest, while Jihyo still lies in place.

"That was...."

You can tell that she is looking for the right word, but has trouble finding it.

"Amazing."

You end the sentence for her. Jihyo chuckles at your lack of creativity.

"About that reservation you mentioned earlier..."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Now you're hungry?"

"You aren't?"

Jihyo looks back at you.

"Let me order something."

"Where were you going to take me anyways?"

"Chinese."

"Order that then. I'm gonna take a shower. After practice and this"

Your girlfriend nods towards her cum stained back.

"I really do need a shower."

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #male reader #kpop gg #twice jihyo #twice smut #park jihyo #jihyo smut #jihyo

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anadiasmount · 5 months ago

Text

known strangers - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: when a stranger from the past is now your future, how are things going to work when the only thing in mind you have is that weekend and him. your boss.

wc: 4k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: HIIIIII!!! ceo!jude ?? yess plsss!! inspired by a clip back when he did cibieles, and a few requests i mixed and played around with 🤭🤭 like always hope you enjoy!! and i am sooo sorry for delaying this!! yet i do feel i'm getting back on track 🤞🏻

“it should not be this fucking hot… why is it so hot?” you blabber to yourself, the wind blowing pieces of your hair around all over the place, making them stick to your lipgloss. you gently removed them from your lips, but they frustrated you more as they returned. your heels clicked against the floor, tugging your purse tighter once you arrived at the huge, tall building downtown.

you were directed right away by the receptionist, her simple instructions to take the elevator to the last floor and then turn left. you felt frozen upon seeing the metal doors, a bubble of anxiety rising through your throat as you began to take it all in. the huge building, the fancy decor, the employees. you felt more than fortunate to land a job a couple of months after you graduated.

most of your friends and people you attended uni with either landed jobs before graduation or were still looking for those opportunities. your line of work came in handy, and you were very pleased at how much you had achieved at your age. you could travel, work, spoil yourself, and make a title for yourself. this was the first chance for you to start your career independently and you took that very seriously.

you scrolled aimlessly on your phone while waiting for the elevator doors to close, checking the latest emails and texts from your friends, holding your purse tight, and fixing your hair back to how it should've been before the wind ruined it. “advice them to assure they're all prepared, the last time they couldn't even utter a word and take responsibility for what they did…” you looked up, standing straighter as you heard a deep voice.

the word scared couldn't even define how you felt at that moment, the blood rushing down your face and stomach-turning upon seeing a similar figure. the same person you spent a night with a summer ago. you recognized him from a mile away as he moved in slow motion, or was it just in your head? it couldn’t possibly be him? or could it?

you looked away almost immediately when you locked eyes for a few seconds, clearing your throat and pretending not to be bothered, but truly you were dying inside just a little. not a little, a lot, you felt like throwing up. maybe you were being dramatic, but a worse fear of yours was seeing somebody you recognize or know in public.

oh how much you wanted to be over, yet it didn't end. the elevator ride was endless, the four walls feeling like they were closing you in, filled with heated tension, and awkwardness. All you could do was breathe quietly, look up to be faced with his firm and structured back under his suit, or be on your phone. you let out a sigh of relief once you walked out, legs wobbly, and your stomach back in place, thankful you didn't throw up from nerves.

you quickly forgot about it, knowing he didn't remember you or acknowledged it. you attended the first meeting of the day, getting to meet a couple of new coworkers who would be participating in the same campaign as you. you all settled to get drinks and lunch together later on after finishing a hypothetical proposal and outline.

a bead of happiness burst in your chest. you could get used to this, it wasn't as bad as it seemed and you fitted in with the rest of them there.

—--------------- 𝒿.𝒷 —---------------

“this weather is so bipolar i don't think my hair will handle it,” said lilly frustrated, shaking her umbrella and putting it away. “as an american this is completely different than where i live, i’d be dying from the heat right now,” she jokes earning a laugh from everyone. “i promise it’s not that bad,” chris sarcastically says shrugging off his coat.

“that bad? it rained all week!”

you were allowed an hour break for lunch, so you all settled for a nice coffee shop across the street since the weather didn’t look promising. after debating and getting conceived by lilly, you ordered an iced coffee and chocolate croissant, content and ready to eat something. the whole group sat by the windows, getting distracted by the rainfall before julian spoke up.

“have you guys met the ceo?” you shake your head no, having no idea what they were or who exactly they were referring to. “no, let’s not even call in that negative energy… the receptionists in the front were gossiping how he had super high expectations for us after last years team was a disaster,” julian stressed, shaking horrified, almost as he had been part of it.

“who exactly is the ceo?” you asked with an unsure smile, earning looks and daggers. “what? what do you mean you don’t know who he is? he basically runs this entire city!” julian was first to speak making you laugh, “you’re joking right?” you deadpan earning a shake from julian. “no… you do realize we have a meeting later with him… right?”

“i barely fully moved in two days ago and haven’t had time to do any research,” you explain taking a sip of your drink. “okay why did i also not know this?” chris exclaimed taking his phone out immediately to check his email.

“guys we can’t forget stuff like this especially when he has strictly scheduled meetings with us! i’m not lying when i say this man will fire us on the spot,” stressed julian making you and lilly snicker a laugh but totally agreeing with him. you couldn’t lose this job just because of minor details like this. you needed to be prepared and organized.

“what else do you know about this ceo?” lilly teased him, laughing when he squinted his eyes towards her.

“well for starters this man is strict and loves his work done in a well manner. if he believes you won't succeed with him, he won't even bother to call you into his office. he was born and raised in england his whole life, he's considered like royalty now with the status he has. you can probably piece he’s the most young eligible bachelor if women are luck to cross his path.”

“he started his company at a young age, no one knows by what or what inspired him, but it's rumored by a small incident when he was young. he's rated most arogant, executive, successful, directorial ceo in all of europe. If that doesn’t scare you than i don’t know what does…” he finished saying.

“well then… no pressure guys,” you joked

—--------------- 𝒿.𝒷 —---------------

“my hand hurts i can’t write anymore,” you sigh removing your glasses and gently closing your eyes feeling how dry and irritated they were, from switching to your ipad and writing notes in your notebook. “that double espresso shot hasn’t kicked in yet,” yawned chris, standing up and stretched.

“for our first day we haven’t done so bad-”

a knock on the glass doors made everyone turn their head, a woman in her late 50s came in, “your scheduled meeting with the ceo is in five.” a sudden mood shift was practically immediate, everyone glancing at each other before prancing around to gather their items. julian even taking a breather before being the first to walk out.

your steps stopped, lilly almost crashing into you as you stared ahead to the one person you didn’t think of ever seeing again. jude. there was no describing how you felt, you couldn’t hear anything around you, just focused on him. How he spoke and had this angry daze on him. julian wasn't lying when he said everyone feared him, you just prayed he didn’t call or recognize you.

“you good?”

“y-yeah-h i’m fine! It just hit me out of nowhere you,” you quickly lied, offering a small smile before hiding behind everyone.

jude looked up dismissing what seemed like his assistant before stepping over to where you all stood. luck didn’t seem to be on your side, since everyone got into a line and put on their most professional smile. jude shook everyone's hand, greeting them and welcoming them to his company. your chest moved up and down as he approached you, biting the inside of your lip anxiously.

“hello, welcome. i’m jude bellingham, it's a delight… to have you here,” jude stammered, his hand shaking yours slower almost as if he wanted to take a better look. you barely looked up just focused on shaking his hand and for him to continue down to the last person. “thank you for having us here,” you spoke softly, removing your hand gently so he could continue on.

jude’s stare lingered on you earning a small shove from lilly who asked with her eyes, “does he know you? do you know him?” you ignored, rather focusing now on your shoes which you had not noticed had mud on them, a headache wanting to appear just by the couple last minutes.

how was it possible? how was it possible for the two of you to be here? in the same room? he was now your boss, and you were his employee. you were to follow his rules, while he just observed and made them. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. you envisioned a dream different than this. you were convinced it was someone else but not him?

you avoided him at all costs, not wanting to make it weird for him or yourself, but rather save the embarrassment and fear you felt for some other time. if you felt he got nearer you walked away somewhere else, you looked up when it felt like he was the only one staring at you while he spoke. the only constant thought in your head was to act like the professional y/n everyone knew. the one who held her head up high, and got her way no matter what.

------- ୨୧ -------

“why is it you’re doing this?” you asked cheerfully, slipping into jude’s hold as he fixed his sunglasses and laid back on the pool chair. “i don’t understand what you mean?” he shrug, his hand racing from your spine down to your bum, where he rubbed it softly over the bikini material. “explain to me darling.”

“we just met jude… it feels like we’ve known each other longer… surely it feels like something else…”

jude chuckled. “i’ll keep it simple. i happened to be on a business trip and i stumbled across you. you’ve recently graduated, and traveled here to celebrate. though now you're here with me… in this lounge chair, in my bed, in my arms, because that how attached we’ve gotten? tell me i’m wrong?” he challenged, as he leaned up and slid you onto his lap.

“you’re wrong,” you dared with a huge smile on your face sliding your hands onto his shoulders feeling his lips pepper kisses onto your jaw.

“then i’m not doing my job correctly.”

------- ୨୧ -------

“i wanna know more about you, tell me,” you leaned over slightly grabbing his hand and brushed your thumb softly over his knuckles. jude’s eyes followed your movements feeling hesitant since he never did this. his job didn’t allow him to have enough personal time to be himself. but with you, he’d kill to spend every moment together.

so he found himself losing himself in your eyes and allowing himself to reply to any question, doubt, feeling you had. “i promise i’m not that interesting as you think…”

“surely that can’t be true? there's always something more hidden, a locked mystery in a person who doesn't fully show themselves to the world…” you reply taking a sip of your wine staring into his intense eyes, not knowing that behind them jude was already obsessing and going crazy about the idea of you. you allowed yourself to be you and vulnerable, why couldnt he?

“ask me anything.”

------- ୨୧ -------

“what's the biggest aspiration you had as a kid?” jude randomly asked, tucking his head closer into your neck. “the word aspiration would be impossible for five year old me to know. the dream she had was to explore the ocean as a mermaid, then grow up to be teacher,” you rambled.

“would she be proud of the person you are now?”

“she would be mad because of stubborn she was but yes, more than proud…”

------- ୨୧ -------

Jude’s chest burned with anger, grabbing the nearest item before throwing hearing it break into tiny pieces. He took a seat by the balcony looking over to the small

‘dear jude,

the past week has been the most strangest yet fulfilled week i’ve ever had. never did i imagine to meet an extraordinary person like you. and so it pains me write this knowing we have different and separate lives. believe me, i’m saving you from something that would’ve turned ugly. you deserve better and its not me. you have exclusivity, a richer mentality that i know for sure i can’t live up to… just think of me of the one person who you first ever truly got to be yourself with… five year old jude would be proud.

- y/n ♡︎

jude was back to the old him. the one before meeting you. the one too busy for anything and focused on his companies future. yet he couldn’t think at all, your scent lingering around his rrom, in the white button up you wore the night before, just right after moaning his name during your high.

he laughed in disbelief, once again feeling the disappointment and pain in his chest, gliding across the room to the coffee bar where a almost empty bottle of whiskey stood. not thinking it one second and grabbing the bottle to take a huge jug of the bitter drink.

“exclusivity my ass.”

—--------------- 𝒿.𝒷 —---------------

“anything else we can get for you sir?” your coworker asks, jude sighing and loosing his tie. you looked down at your feet, making sure your heels were still shiny after stepping on mud but cleaning it off as you shifted your weight nervously. “you. what’s your name?” his tone laced with a demanding manner. “me?-” lilly blurted.

“no her, the one next to you.”

“i’m y/n… what can i help with,” you nodded. you felt exposed under a microscope. like a new scientific specie discovered. everyone's eyes were on you, making you want to run out and book the first flight back. jude’s eyes widen a tad bit, not knowing if he was just taking you in or if he remembered that same night back in the almafi coast.

“that’s it for today. i will see you all wednesday,” jude shook his head, a bubble of relief bursting through his chest when he recognized you. that same excitement from that night you first met, where you spent the entire evening together, drinks, dinner, dancing, to then sharing his bed in the most intimate manner.

had you remembered him like he did?

“y/n? please stay back, i’d like to run a few things with you,” you were sure your stomach had dropped to your ass again for the second time today, heart banging in your chest that doctors would’ve busted into the room quickly. your friend gave you a confused look, receiving a shy smile from you. you weren’t sure what he wanted, or expected, all you wanted was to leave.

“what can i help with?” you said again, taking short strides as you opened your notebook and prepared to take notes. “why is that i recognize you from somewhere?” jude pushed his brows in, eyes roaming you as you took a seat in front of him. you gulped afraid your voice would sound scared and small in front of jude. could you even call him that? or would you have to refer to him as sir like others? “uh… maybe you have me confused with someone else,” you offered a lie, pursing your lips.

“no. i know who you are…” jude persisted

“i’m sorry sir, i think you are mistaken-”

“jude, call me jude.”

“j-jude, this is a huge misunderstanding,” you giggle nervously shaking your hands, watching as the tall man stands up from his chair and came around to sit on his desk right exactly infront of you. his jaw clenched, leaning slightly back as his hand interlocked and rested just below his stomach, watching as he took a deep breath. “some could argue it isn’t.”

“i don't know-”

“last year i fired two people on their first day because they lied to me. will we have a repeat of that today y/n?” he said sternly making you scoff in disbelief. “excuse me? if me being here bothers you that much then it sounds like an ego problem,” you defend sitting up straight, closing your notebook.

“i’m not here to waste your time or mine either. just get onto what you need to say,” you hurried no caring if you sassed or had an attitude. the nerve to threaten you, on your first day, just because of some history. ‘the history that keeps you up y/n’… said your conscious.

it’s true… and while you hated to bring him up, to recall every memory spent on that trip. you knew deep inside he wasn’t just a stranger. he was someone engraved in your mind until forever held its peace.

you felt shitty the morning after leaving him. remembering how tears flew down your cheeks as you wrote the letter, how jude could sense the already empty space before you walked out. out of the room and his life. but never in your life had you become that scared of being that vulnerable and attached.

every piece of him haunted you. the name, his music taste, the black tie he used the first night you shared a bed together, his briefcase filled with documents, the black gel pens, and gold watch. you felt him everywhere though he was no longer there. you knew the insecurities had won, and you accepted that a person like him could never be with you. the status, the medal he wore around his neck. you couldn’t be that.

“what i need to say? it’s not even close to enough to what i felt after you left me… i know it was you in the elevator this morning, yet i fooled myself into thinking it wasn’t because surely it didn’t seem real…” you looked away rubbing your hands across your lap to clean off the sweat your palms began to build.

“you didn’t mean anything to me… i lied,” you said quickly wanting to forget about him and to push him away. you couldn’t mess up this job opportunity. not wanting to risk what your colleagues, what the press would say. not wanting to risk the possibility of a lifetime just because of a week you spent together. you didn’t do all this work just to get nothing and over a man who just feel rage because of your fault.

“you see, to me exclusivity means nothing to me. not when i know i have the voice to control and decide my life… to chose who i want to spend the rest of my life with,” his voice sounded deep, he looked so hot with his suit on. just exactly how you remembered if not even more handsome. “then do it with someone else, you aren't enough, never will be,” you appointed quickly, standing up and paced around.

jude scoffed a laugh, not feeling an ounce of hurt, rather the exciting feeling in his veins, he sat still in the corner of his desk as he watched you frantically. “baby i’ll always be more than enough, my name is jude bellingham,” he turned you down wanting to laugh at the glare you gave him. “There’s more to us than the almafi coast, don’t you forget it,” he stood on his point, knowing there was no way out for you.

he walked to you, hands in his pocket, “i just needed a warm bed to sleep with at night,” you said trying to hurt him and make him believe you were terrible, but he could see the lies behind your eyes… “the lies y/n… when will it stop and just admit you know you can't deceive me…” his chest brushed against your back, feeling his nose trace your ear down to the corner of your jaw.

“you don’t want to tell me its fate?” he felt you crumble, how you allowed him to hold and let him continue. “you don’t mean to tell me you aren't here because the universe put us in this exact moment?” he defied, referring to a small astrology talk you had when walking on the beach late at night.

“you’re just bluffing.”

“no you’re wrong…” he shook his head, turning you swiftly where he lifted your chin gently to face him. “you can try to forget and ignore me at all costs, just know i’m the only one here who know you. not just professionally but personally as well,” jude intimidated. yet you didn’t feel scared or frightened. you felt drawn to be closer and closer, because its the aura and affect he carried.

“this is wrong jude, what will they say! you're my boss… everyone is afraid of you…” you said softly, breathing deeply as your forehead itched closer. “they should be afraid of me especially if they have the nerve to speak about you,” he lifted your face once again, wrapping an arm firmly around your waist. “but when i'm with you… i’m the man who i was back in the almafi coast. i don’t have to be forced to be someone i’m not, i can be jude… the jude five year old me would be proud of…” jude continued, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“jude…” you whimpered, hands gliding across his chest where you slowly drew up to his neck.

“i’m angry with you so angry… for leaving me… for hurting me… for allowing me to get to this point…” jude spoke, his brows drawn in angrily yet holding you so gently, shaking his head at every sentence. “i’m sorry…” you attempted but instead were silenced by a small ‘shh’ jude hummed.

“it can be scary i know it can, but we could have saved us from all this if we simply tried y/n… all i wanted was for us to try. you left me confused, used! you let me believe i was used by you because you left in the end. i was scared i had pushed you away,” jude spoke softly yet with a tone filled with remorse.

“i pushed myself away… my thoughts were consumed by past actions and beliefs jude! i did it with the intention to protect us from this! from the hurting you feel, felt! i can’t allow myself to get so attached to a person knowing the outcome it can have. we both don’t deserve that,” you humbled.

“we don’t darling, we don’t… but you're here with me… in my arms, what does that say?” you shrugged at him, feeling to pull away but the feeling of home in his arms was to much to overcome.

“it means that were known strangers, and it won't be easy to just work under the same building knowing what we did, what we felt. and i’ll do anything to prove to you that exclusivity and status have nothing to do with the future i picture you and me with. there is a happy ever after for us, can’t you feel it?” he placed your small hand against his fast-beating heart.

“yes,” you threw yourself at him, jude groaning as he devoured you as a whole. your kiss messy, not an ounce of sweetness, making up for the long european summer that held the distance you parted with. tasting you like it was his last meal, engraving your closed his in his mind knowing that no matter what, you were his.

“mr. bellingham? the orders from germany have just arrived, and we had the underground staff separate them-” a man's voice spoke as they barged in seeing the whole scene uncut, wide eyes and lips as he stuttered out a response. knowing he walked into a lion's den, and it would be hell to get back out. you pushed away from jude, who held a confused stare, to then glaring at his assistant.

“oh no…” you whimpered scaredily.

—--------------- 𝒿.𝒷 —---------------

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham smut #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader #football imagine #football x y/n #football one shot

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