#no matter how fast he turns or how long he waits pretending like hes not paying attention he doesnt see it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wavesmp3 · 7 months ago

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young & stupid

yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)

you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.

genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol

Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.

Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.

So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.

But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.

“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”

“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”

“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”

You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”

He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”

This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”

“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.

“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”

“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”

You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.

“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”

You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?

And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.

You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.

You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”

“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.

You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”

He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.

“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”

You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”

“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.

He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”

And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.

It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.

“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.

“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“

You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.

“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”

Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.

“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”

You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.

That fucker.

“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.

Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”

“That was their third time asking me out.”

“And?”

“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”

“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”

He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”

You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.

“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”

“East campus. The Austin Complex.”

He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”

You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”

“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”

“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”

He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.

“Are you crazy?”

“Most people don’t think so.”

“People will honk.”

“It’s 1 am.”

You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.

“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”

He passes the light just as it turns red.

—

You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.

And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.

You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”

“Payback.”

You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.

“Excuse me?”

Fuck. Did you say that outloud?

“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.

“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”

You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”

“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”

“Lubinsky.”

Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”

“His quizzes are impossible.”

“Yeah, but he’s funny.”

You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”

He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”

“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.

“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.

“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”

He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”

You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”

He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”

You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”

“Yes.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.

Goddamn it–those eyes.

You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”

“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”

“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”

“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”

You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…

Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.

—

As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.

“Do it again.”

“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”

He points to your worksheet. “One more.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“I thought you wanted an A.”

“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”

“Just do it.”

You groan and set up another integral.

To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.

Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.

You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”

“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“

You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”

Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.

He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.

“So can we take a break now?”

He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”

You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.

“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”

“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”

“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”

You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”

He cocks his head. “No?”

You shake yours. “No.”

“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”

“How come you haven’t asked?”

He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.

You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”

“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.

“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”

“So why’d you date him then?”

For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.

The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”

He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”

Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”

He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”

Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”

His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)

“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”

You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”

He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.

—

You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.

You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.

“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”

You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”

“If we kissed?”

“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”

“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”

You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.

“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”

“Probably?” You echo.

“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.

You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”

He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?

“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”

And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”

He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.

“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.

And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?

Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.

“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”

You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”

He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.

He points to your cup. “Shot?”

You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”

—

Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.

—

The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.

“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”

“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)

“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”

You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”

Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.

“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.

“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”

Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.

“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”

Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”

You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”

“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.

They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”

“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”

Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”

Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.

“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”

The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”

Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”

You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”

Joshua leans towards you. “What?”

You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.

The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.

“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”

You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”

He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”

Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”

Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”

“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.

Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”

You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”

“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”

“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”

Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”

Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?

Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.

The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.

The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.

And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.

—

Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.

There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.

Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.

You swallow.

“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”

Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?

Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.

You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”

“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”

“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”

You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”

His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”

“It could be.”

Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.

“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.

“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.

Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”

“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”

And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.

Your phone buzzes.

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally

Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s

You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?

Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place

You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb

You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast

You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right

Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD

An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.

By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”

He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”

“Mine? Why?”

“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”

“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”

He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”

You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”

He burps. “Because of me?”

The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”

“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”

You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”

He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”

“And the occasion was…?”

He looks you dead in the eye.

“You make me nervous.”

Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.

Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.

He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.

“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.

He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”

“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.

“But I’m really sorry.”

“And I really don’t mind.”

He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”

You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”

He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.

You mumble back a ‘thanks’.

“So, what’d you think of the game?”

You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.

“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”

“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”

“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”

You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”

“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”

“Which assignment? The chem lab?”

You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”

“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”

“Okay, you’re drunk.”

“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”

Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.

“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.

“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”

“A little.”

“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”

“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.

“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”

Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”

“Did you just cringe?”

“–you smell like vomit.”

“Well, do you have clothes for me?”

“No, but I have a couch.”

He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”

—

(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.

You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)

—

When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.

As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?

Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.

“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”

“Date?”

“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.

“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”

“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”

You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.

The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.

“Come on, they’re so cute.”

“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”

“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”

“Good thing we’re not one.”

“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”

You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.

—

“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”

And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.

“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.

“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”

“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.

You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”

He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”

And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.

“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”

“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”

His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”

“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.

You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.

You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”

“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”

You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”

“Other than Soonyoung?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”

You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”

He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”

“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”

He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”

You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”

He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.

He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”

His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”

“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”

He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”

You squint at him. “Why?”

And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”

He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”

“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”

The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”

“I thought you hated the ocean.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”

You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.

“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.

Did that just happen?

Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.

He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”

He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.

And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.

—

The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.

“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.

“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”

“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.

“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”

“Yeah, but the game was fun.”

“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.

“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”

That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.

Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”

“Like what?”

“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”

“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.

You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.

“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”

This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”

But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.

Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”

After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.

He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”

“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”

Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”

You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Why?”

You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”

He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”

Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.

“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.

It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”

You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.

“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”

“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”

You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”

They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.

“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”

“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”

“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”

You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”

You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.

You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.

“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.

You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”

“What kind of rule is that?”

“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”

You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”

He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.

The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.

“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”

He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”

You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”

He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”

You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”

He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”

You kiss him.

You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.

The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.

He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.

A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”

“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.

1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath.

2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck.

3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end?

4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken?

5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him.

6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.”

7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.”

8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”

9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?”

10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say.

11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face.

12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?”

13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.”

14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.”

15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid?

16! Please, you want to beg, say something.

17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.”

18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.

The rest of the numbers blur in your head.

—

(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.

“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”

The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)

—

You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.

By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.

You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.

—

You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.

By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.

Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”

You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”

“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”

Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”

“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”

You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”

“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”

You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.

You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.

Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.

“Seungcheol called me.”

His face twitches. “Why?”

“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”

He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”

You nod.

He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.

You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”

He nods.

“Do you want a ride back?

He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“How would you get back to yours?”

“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”

He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”

The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”

“For what?”

“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”

He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”

He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”

“Where?”

“I’ll drop you home.”

You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.

Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”

“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”

Oh.

Holy fucking shit.

He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”

You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”

He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”

You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“I don’t think–”

“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”

He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.

He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.

You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.

You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.

Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”

You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”

“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”

You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.

And you can’t help it, you grin.

You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.

“How did you get here?”

“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”

“I told you to–”

“I know what you said.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”

“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”

You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.

“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”

“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.

You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #svt scenarios #mine #young & stupid

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wonryllis · 10 months ago

Text

ʬʬ. ! POKER FACE ﹙ SHE'S GOT ME LIKE NOBODY ﹚

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. park sunghoon with fem!reader 𖥔 ݁ enemies but secretly in love and oblivious, fluff. LIB? word count `2375

prompt. wiping a bit of frosting (or smth else) off of their cheek while eating and taking it for themself from list 02. part of this event by @okwonyo

JAY VER. JAKE VER. SUNGHOON VER: one-sided

"you look like a chipmunk," and i wanna kiss you so bad right now. sunghoon really wishes he could do that, grab your jaw, fingers digging into your soft puffed cheeks, and pull you against him as he smashes his lips into yours.

he's been dreaming of it for as long as he can remember. for as long as he knew he shouldn't be dreaming of that. for as long as he knew you have hated him and for as long as he has been supposed to be hating you too.

look sunghoon doesn't really have a solid reason to hate you besides the fact that you crush on his best friend (especially when he's been here all along?) but if getting to talk to you and sticking close by comes at the cost of pretending to do, then he doesn't really mind it. though it doesn't do much because everyone, from friends to professors, everyone can see how he's been waiting on the opportunity to jump you.

and you? you are the most oblivious thing there can ever be. sunghoon could be right up in your face, whispering sweet nothings and everything in between and you'd refuse to believe he feels anything but hatred for you. if not that then annoyance? because you for sure are always annoyed at him and his flirty antics.

"shut-" he's suddenly reaching forward and across the table, hands cupping your cheek, oh god he's melting you're so soft, thumb swiping against your skin to wipe off the salad dressing. he puts it into his mouth next, sucking off the sweet sauce with an irritating smirk on his face,"so cute," a look of lure in his hooded eyes staring at you,"eat slowly baby no one's gonna take your foo-,"

"m nat yiur baby!" you interrupt immediately, speaking through the stuffed salad in your cheeks, eyes shifting back and forth to heeseung sitting beside him. praying he wouldn't misunderstand even though your insanely fast beating heart clearly knows who it's beating for.

"come on babies don't speak with full mouth, no matter how cute you look," i'm gonna die if you don't stop right now sunghoon feels like he'll combust any moment, blow his cover and mess everything up. he doesn't give a shit that your crush aka his friend, is sitting right next to him, if anything he's doing it in front of him on purpose even though he knows the boy has got no feelings for you. he has just got something for the way your face scrunches adorably when you get annoyed, and how your oh so kissable lips turn into an angry pout that does nothing to show your anger but tempt him even more.

"ou knww wat m levnig," grabbing your plate with you, you give heeseung a tight lipped cheery little smile and two short kicks under the table to sunghoon before leaving the area.

fuck park sunghoon and fuck his hotness and fuck how he gets to you every single time. your heartbeat keeps on getting higher and skipping beats with each step you take, repeatedly hearing his words in your head again and again. even more so when you hear the sound of his footsteps behind you, those very familiar clicking of his chelsea dress shoes that suit him devilishly well.

"enjoy," sunghoon leaves the table after you, patting his friend's back in a quick apology and rushing away.

"yo chipmunk cheeks! wait up for me!"

"get away!"

just fucking kiss already. lee heeseung has had it enough already. he can't stand third wheeling anymore, it's making him sick. he needs to get you two into seven minutes in heaven or something. just anything to end whatever this is you have going on with him stuck in between.

"whatcha doin baby chicks?" sunghoon's annoying ass voice has you looking up from your book, eyes following him as he drags out the chair beside yours and plops himself down smugly. he's alone. he's alone alone.

"where's heeseung?" you ask, remembering how he promised he'd bring along the boy for a study date. the sole reason you agreed to meet him in the library.

"somewhere between those shelves," sunghoon fingers point towards the rows behind your table,"probably getting you know what," he suggests, resting his head on his hands, staring at you trying to find your guy. "liar, he's not like you," you retort and it has sunghoon grinning from ear to ear,"hm, what do you think i am like?" there's a hint of amusement and a tone of teasing in his voice, it makes it hard for you to conceal your nervousness. so many times of it happening yet you still can't control the fluttering butterflies and sparks in your stomach. are you sure you're crushing on the right person? well heeseung is nice he helps you with notes from missed classes and most importantly doesn't taunt you for being second.

"a predator," nevertheless trying to outwardly stand your ground is something you have learned to do when it comes to him. do not show how weak he gets you. do not let him have the upper hand. that's been your motto since day one.

you almost feel your heart jumping out of your chest when he bends to grab the seat of your chair and pulls you closer, leaning so close to your face, you feel his breath hit your lips with every exhale,"so you must be my pretty little prey?" if you move just an inch forward you'd end up smearing your cherry gloss on his chapped lips, feeling hyper aware of every little movement from the touch of his fingers near the hem of your skirt to the little shifting you do in your seat. fidgeting and constant staring at each other's lips. the faint hovering of his palm on your thighs, the other lingering over hand resting on the table, like a cage in between,"you're gettin-"

"guys i finally found it!" you're snapped out of it when heeseung slams a pile of books on the table, hands flapping up to slap against sunghoon's chest and push him away with all the might you got.

it takes you a few minutes to settle yourself down into calm, ignoring the way sunghoon complains about being harshly shoved for apparently no reason. and smiling at heeseung as he explains how he'd been trying to look for some books on zoology which somehow happened to always be borrowed out, that is until today. you take a second look at the books he shows, hitting an embarassing realization, eyes switching between the two guys.

"wait- you were looking for these books over there?" pointing to the same rows sunghoon did initially.

"what else were you thinking in that tiny head of yours, chipmunk?" sunghoon wiggles his brows suggestively knowing exactly what you were thinking of, enjoying the way you come to the horrific realization of how you both were just flirting, more specifically of what you implied and what you didn't deny.

"nothing, shut up and do your own work!" a poor attempt at brushing it off but he'll let it go since you aren't really alone right now. a lovesick grin, eyes trained on you the entire time. only heeseung notices and once again wonders of when you'll knock it off.

"miss second place at a frat party? that's new," if there's hell, yours is definitely tied to sunghoon, your personal lucifer on guard. amidst a roaring crowd of people he still manages to find you and get on your nervous in a matter of seconds. time and again he's proven to be the bane of your existence.

"shouldn't that go for you, mr first place? don't you want to keep it?" against the counter on the far end of the kitchen, he has you trapped.

"keeping you? i think i already have it," his lips grazing over your ear as he whispers in a low voice, pulling away immediately to leave you wanting for more. "no i-" you shutter for the first time in front of him, shit.

"i meant the last assignment, i scored more than you," you sound much softer and tinier than you would have ever liked to, but your brain's in such a mess you can't think straight.

"you're so studious it's cute but chipmunk i couldn't give a shit about being second place to you, you can take my place any time you like," he gets so much closer again you start panicking, if you don't get out of here right now, losing all your pride and prudence to him wouldn't be impossible anymore.

pushing him away slightly you hope he'd give way to you,"i'm gonna go find heeseung," adding all the more reason to it. "let me help you with that," but he's adamant on not leaving you alone today. six months of watching you have a crush on his best friend and he's had enough.

dragging you out to the living room, he brings you to the couch on the other end of where heeseung stands surrounded by his group of friends. and sitting down on it, is immediately pulling you onto his lap, hands going around the waist to hold you close,"let's make him jealous," his lips brush against yours, getting a sweet taste of your lipgloss. just like how he's always imagined.

"kiss me,"

and heeseung sighs from across the room. fucking finally.

taglist. ( open ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

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anachronismstellar · 1 month ago

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SQH x YQY 👀 I wanna see your take so bad

Hmmmm Tbh what I imagine is something like-

---

They were both working quietly, the meeting long finished, the only sounds the tec tec tec of Shang Qinghua's abacus as the peak lord moved the wooden pieces up and down, pausing from time to time to take notes.

Having just finished a report, Yue Qingyuan couldn't help but turn his eyes to his shidi, noticing his focused expression as Shang Qinghua mumbled numbers upon numbers under his breath. It never failed to impress him how fast the other was able to add ridiculously high numbers, or how Shang-shidi seemed to look at one artifact and know how much it was worth.

Another thing that Yue Qingyuan could appreciate was his efficiency. No matter how much the other peak lords brushed off his forms and failed to hand them on time, Shang Qinghua seemed to know everything that had been used or collected from their missions, as if he had eyes and ears everywhere. It made Yue Qingyuan grateful for his Shidi loyalty, otherwise they would be in a huge amount of trouble.

"Whatever it is that is making Zhangmen-Shixiong stare this much instead of asking, the answer is no, we have just finished with the annual budget, we can't change it," Shang Qinghua said without taking his eyes from the paper in front of him, making Yue Qingyuan chuckle.

"I was just admiring Shang-shidi's skill. You have very nimble fingers," he complimented as he put his own brush down. A small pause would do them good, they had been working for hours now. He was about to stand up to start the tea when Shang Qinghua snorted, a "You should see what else they could," low enough for Yue Qingyuan to realize he wasn't supposed to hear that, but loud enough for him to not have misheard.

The following pause was loud by itself, like the quiet before the thunder.

"I should go," Shang-shidi started to gather all the paper he had just written down, ruining many reports with smeared ink, color crawing up his neck until his whole face was beet red.

"Shang-"

"I just remembered I had a meeting with uh Shen- With Liu-shidi! Yes! And it wouldn't be good to leave him waiting so-"

While Shang Qinghua rushed to grab everything, Yue Qingyuan got closer, gently taking the papers from his hands, holding back his amusement. It wouldn't be kind to laugh at his shidi, even though his flustering was a bit funny.

Yue Qingyuan had a sense of humor, his job just made it hard to demonstrate it.

"Shang-shidi is fine, just got me off guard, that's all. I didn't know shidi had such... Inclinations."

"I mean, with all due respect Zhangmen-Shixiong, you're very handsome man, and you were kinda staring at me like that, then you made that comment, it's hard to not think you were, y'know, making a move, but I'll shut up now, we can pretend this never happened, and-"

Yue Qingyuan's felt his own face getting warmer. It had been a while since someone had been so honest with him, it felt refreshing.

He thought of judging eyes over a painted fan, his heart skipping a beat as he swallowed dry.

"What if I don't wanna pretend?" He heard himself say, and then it was his turn to blush as Shang Qinghua eyebrows rose all the way up to his hairline, warm brown eyes blown wide with surprise.

"Uh- I-"

"I apologize, Shang-shidi, this one didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he whispered as he went to take a step back. They're both stressed and it was getting late, maybe they should wrap it up for the day-

Bitten nails softly scrapped his cheek as the scent of ink filled his senses. He turned his face towards Shang Qinghua, surprised by warm lips against his as a strong hand pulled him closer to an embrace. For many seconds, it had been a chaste press of mouths until he dared to bite down Shang Qinghua's lower lip, chasing the taste of jasmine tea they had been drinking earlier, the heat crawling down from his face all the way to his chest. Shang Qinghua's warmth an addicting feeling as the An Ding Peak lord worked on his robes, opening them with an impressive speed.

And then, hours later, with both of them panting, sweat cooling down their skin, Yue Qingyuan laughed as he kissed Shang-shidi's hand.

"Nimble fingers indeed."

#scum villian self saving system #shang qinghua #yue qingyuan #SQH gotta catch them all #SQH gets freaky with all the peak lords #IT'S HIS WRITER RIGHTS #shit I've spent all my brain cells with warplane name #aaaaaa #SQH x YQY #someone pls tell me their shipping name #husdhfisdf #and as u can see idk how to end things #or to write less than 1k words apparently #notsofrozt #ask #I hope you liked bro :D

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shaisuki · 7 months ago

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Hi there, Shai!!

This idea had been eating my brain for a long time soo Here we goWhat are your thoughts about jjk men who would collar (and maybe even chain) their wife up after they tried to escape / were disobeying?

I'm so sorry for wasting your time over this

I LOVE your work!

Keep it up!!

Byeeee (^-^)/

-Anon

❝𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗗𝗢 𝗜𝗧, 𝗜 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗞 𝗡𝗢𝗧. ❞

featuring gojo satoru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, geto suguru

content warnings yandere themes, nonconsensual themes, chains and collars, minor pet play, ankle cuffs, electrocution, degradation, dark content, gaslighting, manipulation.

synopsis yandere jjk men who would use a chain/collar on their darling

GOJO is the least fond of it. finding the contraptions unpleasant to the eyes and it doesn't suit you. you were the esteemed wife of him and you would be treated as royalty like him. princess treatment and all but he could make exceptions when you're particularly disobedient.

a day is enough of you wearing that collar. he knows how humiliated you feel in that contraption and he did feel bad a little when he sees the tears in your eyes. clawing at the leather in such panicked state that you're already begging for him. saying you'll be good and you will never do it again and satoru believes you...

“you wouldn't do it again, my sweet wife?” he coos. cold slender fingers are wrapped around your neck. his nimble fingers unfastening the cold buckle pressing in your skin. blinking the tears away and sniffling, you nod. too eager and distressed that you were willing to do anything just to get the collar removed.

from how gojo sees it and how you were dead scared earlier. he knows you will be good and learned your lesson. it pains him that you can't even speak while you claw the collar in your neck pulling it that it left claw marks in your skin. droplets of blood making its way outside of your skin and he don't want that again to happen.

satoru froze for a second when you come latching at him after the collar was removed. he expected you to come scratching at him. screaming obscenities from how vile he was instead your soft body is molded against his lean one. “i'll be good.” you repeatedly whisper and your dear husband softens at what you have said. “i know you will.” he replies. hugging you back with such tenderness and no matter how bad he felt. it honestly feels rewarding to see you this clingy to him.

the collar wasn't that bad after all.

NANAMI is not the one you could drive with a reason. deeming that is was unsafe for you to go outside and so when the first idea came running in your mind. a second he was fast to chain you up. nothing to the extreme but ankle cuffs that send jolts of electricity the moment you step outside.

he doesn't like the cuffs in your ankles but he isn't that willing to let you go easily. escaping him means disobeying and who would want that for their spouse to do it. you're not the only who's suffering from it, he also does but tells himself that it would be the good for you and him.

nanami pulls the knot in his tie. effectively loosing the fabric and making him breathe in relief. he's finally home and he can't wait just to be with you. when he's about to turn in the living room. he hears it. the soft thump of a hard object repeatedly being smacked against a pillow and then his heart breaks at the sight.

you were frustratedly tugging at the cuffs wrapped around your ankles. silently screaming and in the verge of tears when it won't just break. punching the throw pillows in the couch as your way to vent the anger, of being chained, of not being free.

noticing nanami's presence you immediately wiped the tears pooling in your eyes and avoiding his gaze. hugging yourself and pretends nothing happened.

sighing, nanami kneels in front of you. gently putting your feet in his lap and unlocking the device that made your life miserable than it is. “better now?” he asks and you nod, not bothering to wipe the tear that trickled down your cheek. “it's for the better.” he murmurs and you remained silent. your feet still on his laps while he rubs the sore spots on where the cuffs where wrapped around you. it's a routine for him. take care of his darling wife. pamper them after leaving them for a long time and please them.

it's a small price to pay when you've given him your dues.

TOJI humiliates you like he needs the air. the chains dangling as he pulled it attached to where your collar is buckled. forcing you to look at him with a furious look in your eyes. cute. as you should be akin to a mutt that no amount of yapping could remove the cuteness. whetting the rage growing aside from desire.

“you're a bitch and you know what happen to bitches. they get punished, you ungrateful bitch.” toji scowled. the sharp lines of his body are defined than it was. eyes glimmering with anger. pulling the chains until your face is in his large hand. gripping your soft jaw so tight they might crush under his raw strength.

he got no qualms about treating you like a pet. you earned it. if you weren't such a bitch you wouldn't be collared and pulled like a toy you are. there's no explanations of it and it's the only known way of the sorcerer killer to discipline someone like you. hope you will be learning your lesson after he's done with you or you're back to the leash if you misbehave again.

GETO finds it highly degrading. it's not pleasing for his eyes to see his darling all chained up or somehow collared. punishments are served by isolating you to others or simply reprimanding you. knowing how affected you are by it and you seem behaved this days. he keeps you grounded and the mere thought of escaping are shut. you didn't even plan it.

he's a man of control and is confident in his skills that he won't let you out of his grasps and when you really wanted to be punished bad. expect he had the stuff, tucked away in a hidden corner that you won't even think he possessed. imagine you really messed up bad and you're wrists are chaffed from the materials rubbing in your skin.

the thoughts of escaping/disobeying is something you shouldn't even think of. you won't like the results.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #yandere themes #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x chubby reader #tw collar #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro

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sissylittlefeather · 4 months ago

Text

I'm sorry this took me a million years to write @sloppiest-of-jos! Anyway, I hope it lives up to what you were wanting!

Searching for You

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and touch of angst

Word count: ~2.5k

"Elvis, you have a WIFE and a CHILD. Tell me again how you think this could possibly work out?!" Elvis sits in a chair, watching you pace around the room from behind his silver sunglasses.

"Honey, I've told you and told you. Those are my problems, not yours. I love you. I want you." He stands up and walks over to you, taking your hand gently and rubbing small circles on the back of it with his thumb. You look up at him and almost melt. Then, you yank your hand away and walk across the room.

"No! This has gone on for way too long." Memories of how you met on the set of the Singer special in '68 come screaming back to you. You think about him noticing you, a humble back up dancer for the bordello scene. He had walked straight to you and asked your name, not even bothering to pretend like he didn't like you. You'd seen him with the other girls and couldn't believe he was actually talking to you. But something about you caught his attention and he wasn't letting you get away. He invited you up to his dressing room after filming was finished and it didn't take long at all for you to end up naked on the couch, squirming as he brought you pleasure you had only ever dreamed about.

That was two years ago.

No matter how hard the two of you tried, you couldn't stay away from each other. The space between you was electric and you made ways to be together as often as possible, despite his marital status and your guilt. You fell hard and fast for him and he insisted he felt the same way, but he never entertained the possibility of ending his marriage.

On this particular occasion, you pace the floor half-dressed insisting this will be the last time. You're leaving California, removing yourself from the equation, and he is not pleased. Once you pull on the rest of your clothes, you point your shoe at him and yell.

"I'm done, Elvis. I'm done with being your back up girl to keep you company when your wife is gone. It hurts too much."

"Honey, it's not like that! You're the one I want! If anything, she's the back up girl."

"Then why won't you leave her?"

"I-I I can't."

"Yeah." You stuff your shoes on your feet and head for the door. "Goodbye, Elvis."

This isn't the first time you've had this argument, by far, but what Elvis doesn't know is that this time you're really leaving. You pack up all your things with tears streaming down your cheeks and head for home. The drive is long, but you've hit the end of your capacity for loving Elvis like this. You wonder how long it'll take him to figure out you're gone. Will he even care?

******

Elvis gives you two weeks to get over this most recent fight, sure that all he has to do is call you when Priscilla goes out of town. But when he does, your phone's been cut off. He hangs up and looks at the receiver in confusion. Surely you didn't actually leave.

He gets in his car and drives to your apartment. Maybe you've just changed your number and he needs to appeal to you in person. But when he knocks on your door, a man he doesn't recognize answers. He gets over his initial wave of jealousy and asks about you.

"Uh, I'm looking for y/n?"

"No one here by that name. Wait are you-?"

"Thanks." Elvis turns and walks quickly back to his car before the guy can ask him for anything.

When he gets back to his house, he calls all of his Memphis mafia into the living room and gives them an assignment. They need to find you and he wants it done yesterday. The guys all look at each other in mild panic and then head out to see what they can do while Elvis sits on the couch smoking a cigarillo trying to process his shock. You're really gone. Where on earth did you go?

******

After a week of Elvis wracking his brain and the guys bribing neighbors and friends, Sonny finally has a breakthrough.

"I was able to get ahold of her best friend at work."

"Yeah, and?"

"She went home to Kentucky."

"Home to Kentucky. Where in Kentucky?"

"She didn't know, but she said she knew it wasn't far from Nashville." Elvis rolls his eyes.

"What the hell does that even mean?! There are a lot of places in Kentucky that aren't far from Nashville. How does she define far?" Sonny looks at the ground and shakes his head.

"I don't know, boss. That's all she knew."

"Goddamnit." Elvis kicks the nearest table and Sonny looks at him hard.

"Might be time to give up on this one." Elvis meets his eyes with his eyebrows raised and then shakes his head.

"No. She's... no." He turns and heads for his bedroom. When he comes back with a suitcase, Sonny tries to stop him.

"Where you goin'?"

"Well, I guess I'm going somewhere in Kentucky that's not far from Nashville."

"You're really gonna go after her then?"

"Yes." Elvis gets in his car and starts on the road East towards Kentucky and you.

******

When Elvis finally makes it to Kentucky, he drives from small town to small town looking for you. He has a picture of you that he took one night that he shows to people. He has lots of pictures of you, but this is the only one appropriate for public consumption. He thanks God that he thought to take one with your clothes on one time. Honestly, it's his favorite photo of you because it's so naturally beautiful, your smile gentle and your hair a little messy from lovemaking.

The more he looks for you, the more it becomes apparent how much he loves you. He's been saying it for a while, but the emptiness he experiences at not knowing how to find you makes him know exactly how true it is. He loves you so much that he's driving around Kentucky just to find you again. How did he think he could give you up?

He's starting to lose hope when he comes across a preacher in a small town called Franklin. Exhausted and hopeless, he shows him the picture of you.

"That's y/n!"

"Yes!" Elvis looks up, shocked. "Do you know her?"

"Of course I do. I baptized her, didn't I?" Elvis laughs and hugs the man.

"Is she here? Where can I find her?"

"I haven't seen her in a long time, but if she's in town, she'll be at her parents' house." He gives Elvis the address just as it begins to rain. For the first time in weeks, Elvis is filled with hope and he decides he'll do anything to get you back.

He pulls up in front of the address that the preacher gave him and his heart beats wildly. He's so close to being with you again. The steady rain soaks him to the bone and he knocks on your front door and waits for someone to open it.

You see him through the windows and panic. How the hell did he find you here?! You know you won't be able to resist him if he talks to you, so you run outside and jump in your car, backing out of the driveway quickly.

But he sees you and tries to run to the car.

"Honey, wait! I just wanna talk to ya!" You focus on the road ahead and step on the gas to get away. Elvis runs back to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, starting the engine and throwing it in drive. He tries to catch up to you, but you're driving like a crazy person. The rain is still coming down pretty hard and he starts to worry about you driving like this. As you head out of town, your car spins off the road into a ditch and he realizes he was right to be concerned. Thankfully, because of the spinning, you don't hit the ditch too hard. He parks and jumps out of the car to run to you. You manage to get the door open and stumble out.

That's when you feel strong arms around you. The familiarity of them makes you cry and you shake with sobs as he holds you. He stands there in the soft rain, stroking your hair and whispering to you.

"You're okay, honey. I've got you. You're okay." After several minutes of this, you pull away from him and yell.

"What are you doing here Elvis?!"

"I needed to see you."

"Why?!" He pushes a piece of rain-soaked hair behind your ear.

"Because I love you, baby." You look up at him, your eyes wide as the rain continues to fall on you both.

"No! I'm not falling into this with you again!"

"Honey, I drove across the country to find you. Is that not enough to prove that I'm serious?!"

"Where's your wife, Elvis?" He groans and pulls his wedding ring off of his finger.

"I don't care." He turns and throws the ring into the patch of trees and you gasp.

"Elvis, that was worth a lot of money!"

"Maybe, but I don't want it anymore. I don't want her anymore. I want you, ya stubborn brat."

"Why?" He rolls his eyes. His patience is wearing thin as the two of you stand in the cold rain together.

"Because I'm so in love with you I can't even think straight when you're not around."

"I don't believe you."

"Y/n! Do you know how many small towns I've been to in Kentucky looking for you?! I love you so much I can't even imagine my life without you." You contemplate what he's saying. This is a long road to travel for casual sex. Maybe he does love you as much as he says he does, but there's still too many complications.

"How, Elvis-?"

"I'm leaving Priscilla." Your heart stops. Is he serious? "I can't live another minute without you. You're all I think about from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep. Honey, I will do anything to prove to you that I want you and no one else."

You look up at him, your heart so full of love for him that you feel like it might burst.

"You'd really do that? Leave your wife and the mother of your child. For me?"

"Yes. I should never have married her in the first place."

"Elvis..."

"All my life I've been searching for you. I just didn't know it. I should've waited. But I'm here now and I'm telling you. I love you more than life itself. Let me love you, honey."

And then you utter two syllables that will change your life forever.

"Okay." In the blink of an eye, he wraps himself around you, his mouth pressed to yours in a passionate kiss. He grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you so that your legs are around his waist, his lips never leaving yours. The rain has softened, so he carries you to the hood of his car and sets your bottom down. You've never kissed anyone with such fervor before. It's like you're trying to melt into one another with the way you press yourselves together. You arch your back as he rolls his hips forward into you, his erection pushing against you through his pants. He runs his hands up your thighs and pulls your panties down under your mini skirt. His thumb runs up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top and he begins to rub circles there. You drop your head backwards and moan loudly. Without another thought, you unzip his pants and pull his cock out, stroking it slowly with your hand. He groans and kisses down your neck, while you pull him to you and run the tip of his dick up and down your entrance. He mutters against your lips.

"You're such a tease, honey."

"Yeah, but you love me."

"God, I really do. So fucking much." He thrusts his hips forward and pushes into you, almost filling you in one motion. You cry out with pleasure when he does and lean back against the car. He pulls out and thrusts forward again, grunting. This time his hips meet yours as his entire cock is inside you. He makes a sound that's somewhere between a whimper and a moan and begins to slide in and out of you, pounding you to the steady rhythm of the rain.

The sensation of him slamming against you is enough to push you over the edge and you tumble headfirst into an intense orgasm, moaning and writhing and pulsing around him.

"Fuck, honey, I love you." You pull him down on top of you and whisper in his ear.

"I love you too." It's the first time you've ever said it back to him. He whimpers and kisses down your neck to your cleavage, never changing his steady pace of pumping into you. You can tell by the way his thrusting becomes more erratic that he's getting close too.

Finally, he slams into you hard and shudders against you, filling you with ropes of cum. It's also the first time he's ever cum inside you: another indicator that he's serious about you.

The rain has slowed to a drizzle as he collapses on top of you, spent and breathing heavily. He slides out of you and stands up, pulling you into a sitting position on the hood of his car.

"Come home with me, honey." He kisses your cheek affectionately and then backs up to look you in the eye, his blues ones seeing straight through to your soul. You couldn't tell him no even if you wanted to.

"I gave up my apartment."

"I want you to live with me." You raise your eyebrows.

"You still have a wife."

"I won't for long. I'll buy us a house. Just please say you'll come home with me." You nod and lean your forehead against his chest.

"I'm yours, Elvis." He tips your chin up to look at him.

"And I'm yours." He kisses your lips tenderly. "Now come on. Let's get out of the rain."

He drives you back to your parents' house, where you both change into dry clothes and settle on the couch together. Surprisingly, he's perfectly comfortable there with your mom and dad. He stays for a few days with you, letting you give him the grand tour of your hometown. Eventually, you head back to California together. Your car is totaled, so he promises to buy you a new one once you get home.

He wastes no time in leaving Priscilla and starting divorce proceedings. In the meantime, he buys the two of you a cozy little love nest and you're perfectly happy there with him.

The Kentucky rain was a baptism of sorts and you both came out of it changed for the better. It's not always smooth sailing, he is Elvis Presley after all, but you're happy more often than not. You never run away again, though you know he'd chase you if you did. And every time it rains, he holds you close and you remember the cold Kentucky rain.

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you

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nadvs · 5 months ago

Note

why do i see cheerleader reader having daddy issues, so when she tells rafe she’s pregnant, she’s so emotional and scared about how he’s gonna react and if he’s gonna break up with her or something

it tracks 🥺 she always expects to be disappointed by men and it’s not just because every guy she’s dated before rafe has treated her badly…

based on this fic

when she moves in with rafe after she finishes her post-grad internship, she’s still on the pill. one day, she’s complaining about the side effects of it as she’s making herself lunch and her boyfriend says, “then stop taking it.”

she looks at him from across the kitchen.

“we’d have to use protection,” she says. “every time.”

“sure. but is it so bad if…?”

she’s shocked. they’ve been together for about two years now and they’ve never talked about kids past a mention of it’d be nice to be parents some day.

“if i get pregnant?” she says.

“yeah.”

“isn’t that fast?”

“not for me. is it fast for you?”

she shrugs. maybe it’s not so crazy. they have their future set. a child would be a nice addition. they haven’t talked about marriage, but she’s in no rush. they don’t have to be married to have a baby.

“if we both want it… i guess if it happens, it happens,” she mumbles. “but our lives would change really, really drastically.”

“i know,” rafe says comfortingly.

she continues to make herself food and he stares at her, imagining her with a baby bump and that bump turning into a little human who’s a mix of him and the person he loves most.

he knows she’d be a great mom. and he’s always wanted to be a dad. he’s always wanted to undo how his own father had raised him, making his only son have to struggle for his fleeting approval.

three months later, she misses her period. she doesn’t tell rafe. she picks up a pregnancy test. she doesn’t tell him that, either. when she sees the double lines on the test, she’s standing in the middle of their bathroom, her body trembling.

and she hates that she doesn’t feel excited. she’s scared. she thought she wanted this. she hoped for a positive. but this isn’t the feeling she thought she’d have.

she goes through the motions of ordering a custom newborn basketball jersey with cameron stitched on the back, having dreamed of telling rafe that they’re expecting that way.

a couple of days later, it comes in the mail. she has actually sort of liked keeping the secret while she waited because it meant she could pretend it wasn’t real yet.

she does what she thinks she should do. she puts the tiny shirt in a bag, sets up her phone to record, and calls him over to tell him something came for him. this is what a woman who’s excited to tell him would do, she tells herself.

at first, when rafe opens the bag, he doesn’t say anything. his jaw goes slack, he blinks a bunch of times, and then he pulls her in for a tight hug.

she’s already shaking, tears in her eyes, when she hears him sniffle. he pulls back. his hands are firm on her cheeks, gazing at her through glossy blue eyes.

“you’re happy?” she whispers.

“yeah,” he responds, saying it like it’s obvious. “we wanted this, right?”

rafe stills for a moment when he sees just how anguished she looks. she doesn’t seem happy at all.

“right?” he repeats.

“yeah,” she says, nodding and looking down. “i don’t know. it’s weird. maybe it’s the hormones already.”

“how long have you known? do you feel okay?”

“just a couple days,” she says. “i’m tired. a little nauseous. but he hasn’t made me throw up yet.”

“he?”

she meets her boyfriend’s eyes.

“i know it’s too soon to tell,” she says, “but i really hope it’s a boy. you’ll feel more connected to a boy.”

he can tell by the way she’s stuttering and crying that something’s wrong.

“baby,” he mumbles. “i’ll feel connected no matter what. it’s my kid.”

she shudders, nodding through her sobs.

“what’s up?” rafe says softly. “do you… are you regretting it?”

“no,” she replies, “but are you sure you want this?”

“yes. we talked about it,” he reminds her. “it’s not like this was an accident.”

“yeah,” she mumbles, looking down at her lap again.

rafe stares at her, slightly shaking his head in disbelief. she’s acting like this was unexpected. like she’s wishing they never started trying.

“what is it?” he says. “if you don’t want this, then just tell me.”

she curls up, slouching as she dips her head into her hands, the tears coming harder now.

“if it gets hard…” she whimpers, her voice muffled. “you can’t leave me to do it on my own. you can’t.”

he’s floored. they haven’t mentioned anything about the possibility of things not working out with them in ages. and back when they did, it was almost always rafe needing reassurance that she wasn’t planning on leaving him.

“i would never do that,” he says. “look at me.” his fingers wrap around her wrists, pulling her hands down from her face.

“where’s this coming from?” rafe mumbles. “did i do something?”

he thinks back to the past few days, trying to remember if he said something even in passing that would make her worry about him abandoning his girl and their baby.

the look in his eyes almost looks like betrayal. like he can’t believe she’s saying this.

she swallows hard, coming to terms with what’s been swimming in her head for days now. her father was absent. the only example she had of a dad was one who never really acted like he wanted a kid at all.

“i don’t know what it looks like,” she begins, “when a man actually wants to be a dad. maybe you’re excited now, but what if when it gets hard? when he’s crying or sick or keeping us awake?”

“we’ll deal with it,” he says. he pushes past his own ache to try to understand her.

his cups her hands in his, searching her face with concerned eyes. he remembers her opening up to him long ago about how she always wondered if her dad would have loved her more if she was a son instead of a daughter.

“when he or she is giving us hell, we’ll deal with it,” he says. “i love them already. there’s nothing that’ll change that.”

he puts a hand on her stomach, rubbing gently. she finally cracks a smile, softly laughing. his chest loses its tightness when he sees her look happy for the first time since he got home.

“i was reading that it’s the size of a pomegranate seed right now,” she says.

he smiles in awe, kissing her wet cheek.

“what’s next?” he asks. “what appointments do we make? what should you be eating?”

she laughs again. rafe has always been so intense, so focused on the next step.

“let me catch my breath first,” she teases. she looks over, just now remembering she filmed all this.

“my bad, baby,” he laughs. “breathe. this’ll be good, alright?”

“alright,” she says. and she believes it.

#ask #swteblurb

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chiwhorei · 1 year ago

Text

「 ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ 」

╰┈➤ Request: Can I get a Drabble of daddy miggy showing me how a real man treats a girl during and after the date?

╰┈➤ Tags: Short-form, drabble, NSFW & dark, DDLG, daddy kink, incest, degradation, Daddy!Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

* ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ From Dymmie: If it makes you feel better about your own morality, just pretend I don’t mean incest. Peace and love. ◝꒰ ´ ˘ `♡ ꒱

“Need a hand, mija?” But Miguel turns you around by your hips before you can answer. His touch feels like pin-pricks, the soft, barely-there feeling of Daddy’s fingers as he helps zip your dress.

He found you with the bathroom door open and your back turned to the mirror, reaching behind you to unsuccessfully catch the zipper a few times before stepping in. Daddy always waits an extra beat to watch you, taking the breath before you notice him to admire his precious little girl.

“Thank you daddy,” and just those words are enough to live on, as long as you’re the one saying them.

Daddy tucks in the tag at your nape and runs his hands down the silky pink fabric. You look beautiful, mature beyond your years in such a revealing little dress.

“What’s the special occasion, Princess? My birthday isn’t for another few months.” Your cheeks simmer at his words, and Miguel watches your nose scrunch in the mirror.

Your chin raises to meet Daddy’s eyeline, and he notes the nervous expression you’ve got on. You play with your fingers, barely whispering a response.

“Well, erm, a boy from one of my classes, h- he asked me to go to a party with him tonight.”

Miguel’s shoulders tighten, his light, placating touch turning into a deep hold on your upper arms. You regret telling Daddy about your date as soon as the words leave your mouth, you regret agreeing to the date in the first place.

“My little girl,” Miguel tuts, “growing up to be such a little slut.” Daddy’s words almost knock your footing out from under you.

“Daddy I—” you want to tell him you’ll cancel, that you’re sorry, that you’re still his good little girl.

All apologies die behind your teeth when Daddy’s hand wraps around your neck. His grip is purposeful, pointer finger tracing your pulse but not testing it. Your breath catches like he’s dangling you in the air.

“You still want to be Daddy’s good girl, don’t you?” And you can’t say yes fast enough, because of course you do.

“Always Daddy. Always wanna be your good girl.” You feel your brain melting, dripping out of your ears.

Miguel’s other hand pulls at the hem of your dress, fabric bunching over the plush of your thighs. The grip on your neck tightens, thumb nudging your chin up. Your eyes meet your Daddy’s, his stare is dumbing, glare pulled taught into slits while doing a once over.

“Aye Mija, I know. You’ll let that boy down easy, yeah? Tell him your Daddy needs you home tonight.” You nod furiously, tears welling in your waterline.

He’s pleased with your response, Daddy knows you’d never want to disappoint him. You’re just too sweet for your own good sometimes.

“If you do what Daddy says,” the tips of Miguel’s fingers meet the lace of your panties, you arch into the touch, “I’ll take you out to a real fancy dinner.”

Your hips grind down against his palm, chasing the friction of his touch. You always get so wet in Daddy’s hold, there’s no way you’d be able to meet up with your date with tear-stained cheeks and slick panties.

You’ve already forgotten about your date, you’ll never send that text to politely cancel. But that doesn’t matter, Daddy blocked the poor fuckers number hours ago.

* 𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭ *

❥ ᴄʜɪᴡʜᴏʀᴇɪ.2023©️ ᴀʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ.

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #Miguel O’Hara x reader smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #tw.incest #good guy Miggy

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boredmadamoiselle · 1 year ago

Text

You know where to find me

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Synopsis: Charles is out to dinner, enjoying the evening with friends until he gets a naughty text from you. What is he going to do... to you?

Warnings: Smut. Masturbation. Teasing. Charles a little possessive maybe? English isn't my first language, so it might contain some mistakes. I tried my best but if you want to correct or help me, you are welcome.

Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is always appreciated and is important for me. If you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to write them and I will take into consideration.

As Charles was out to dinner with friends and you had stayed home, you had decided to clean your apartment and ended up tidying up your closet as well. While improvising a fashion show and pretending to be a model in your bedroom, you tried on some clothes you thought you had lost or that no longer fit you.

You were rearranging the lingerie drawer when you found an old red bodysuit you had bought some time ago and for some strange reason never used. It was time to fix it, you thought.

The red color reminded you of Ferrari and of Charles. He loved seeing you in red, that’s why you wore that color often – both on and off the track –, it was your way to support him. So you were sure Charles would love that bodysuit on you, especially the part where he would take it from you. Just the thought turned you on immediately.

You looked at your phone. It was nearly midnight; it was time for Charles to come home and take care of you. It had been, in fact, several hours since Charles had left the house, he had probably had enough fun, now it was your turn.

After putting the bodysuit on and taking a quick look in the mirror to fix your hair and put on some makeup, you got on the bed and took a few pictures with your phone.

Satisfied with the result you sent a message and some pictures to your boyfriend and waited for his response.

Charles was listening to his friends chatting when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He couldn’t help but smile seeing that it was you. He opened the notification without hesitation.

Hey, amour. How is it going? Hope you’re having fun.

Look what I found.

The text was accompanied by some pictures.

“Fuck”, Charles whispered as he opened the first image before remembering where he was and with whom.

He looked up from his phone and looked around. Luckily his friends were still engaged in their previous conversation, so no one was paying attention to him.

He went back to looking at the picture you had sent him. His mouth watered at the sight of you on your bed in front of the mirror with almost nothing on but a red lace bodysuit that left little room for the imagination. But the things he imagined doing to you were many.

He texted you back.

Y/n, please... Don’t.

You were quick to respond.

What? I thought you would like it

You know you were playing with fire and that later you would suffer the consequences, but you couldn’t help but teasing him now. In the end you knew it would be worth it.

That’s the problem, Y/n. I loved it… But I’d rather you without

As he imagined slowly taking off the bodysuit from you and your naked body under his, he received another message from you.

Well… you know where to find me😏

If it was up to him, he would have already got in the car and would be on his way to you as fast as he could.

Baby, I can’t leave yet

Please

You loved to see him beg even though you knew you would regret it later when the roles would be reversed. Since he was going to make you pay, you wanted to enjoy yourself while you could.

I get it, Cha. But I don’t know how long I’ll be able to resist. Maybe I should take the matter into my own hands while I wait for you?

His erection, already hard, was pushing against his pants.

Y/n, don’t you dare…

Charles was still writing when you texted him back.

I'll stop writing now. My fingers have better things to do. Have fun, see u later 😉

Your message left Charles speechless and unable to answer. That was pure torture, he thought. How could he enjoy the rest of the evening if all he could think about was you and what you were doing right now? Did you stand by your words and were you taking care of yourself?, Charles thought. The image of you touching yourself and moaning kept playing in his mind, driving him crazy and also a little jealous. He wanted to be the one making you feel good and hear you screaming his name over and over again.

The more he thought about it, the more impatient he became and wanted to get out of there. The air inside was getting hotter. He loved his friends and spending time with them, but at that moment he could only think of you. He desperately wanted you. It was amazing the effect you had on him, even from a distance.

He looked at his watch impatiently, it was past midnight. They had been there for several hours; his friends wouldn't mind if he left. At most he would have invented some excuse, for example that he was tired. He looked at his watch again, it was time to go home for him… to get back to you.

After your last message, you had waited for Charles a little. You hoped your words had had some effect on him but seeing he didn’t arrive, you got bored in the end. You were still turned on by the conversation you had had with Charles. You closed your eyes and started to think about your boyfriend and the things he would have done to you if he had been there.

Your hands slowly moved towards your pussy. As you rubbed your fingers over your panties, pressing them over the fabric, you could feel the cotton soaking through, making you shiver.

You moaned, your bodysuit soon pushed to the side and one finger inside of you, getting all wet by your arousal. You whimpered at the contact, imagining it was Charles doing that to you.

As you picked up the pace and pushed another finger between your wet folds, you were starting to feel your own arousal become nigh unbearable. You tilted your head back as your hips thrust to meet your fingers.

You didn't hear the front door close or the footsteps approaching the bedroom.

You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. You were almost there when someone grabbed your hands, pinning them over your head and stopping you from reaching your orgasm.

You instantly widened your eyes.

“Charles! You scared me to death!”, you screamed.

Charles smirked and looked at you with desire as he was above you, holding one knee between your legs and pressing on your pussy.

“Yeah, baby? This is what happens when you get caught doing something you shouldn’t.”

You weren’t really scared; his words were actually turning you on even more.

“This is what happens when your boyfriend doesn’t show up on time. You are a racing driver and are so slow?”, you challenged him.

Charles would never admit it but he loved it when you acted like a brat, it excited him.

He remained silent as his eyes wandered over your body and gently stroked you with one hand. He licked his lips and his cock hardened at the sight of your wet and naked cunt. He was dying to be inside you but he knew he needed to be patient, he wouldn't let you win so easily.

“I was about to come, Charles”, you sighed, pretending to be frustrated.

Charles knew it well. He had already been there for several minutes enjoying the show when he politely interrupted you. At another time he would have gladly watched you pleasure yourself and allowed you to finish the work but not that day. You would only come when he let you.

His fingers caressed your slit, teasing it and collecting your wetness while you winced and moaned as you were still sensitive. He gently flicked your clit, sending shocks down your spine. His fingers dug into you, without much resistance. You began to slowly move your hips but Charles had other plans for you and pulled his fingers out, putting them in his mouth to taste you.

“Only good girls are allowed to come. Have you been a good girl, chérie?”, he whispered looking at you and wearing a cocky smile, his face a few meters from yours before to kiss you roughly.

You could feel all his desperation and desire in that kiss. He wanted you too.

He walked away from your lips. “I don’t think so. You are just a little slut who couldn’t even wait for his boyfriend to come home.”

Before you could reply, he started to move down, kissing down your neck and chest, biting a little, sucking a little more, making you gasp as he got to one of your breasts.

He was touching and kissing you everywhere except where you needed him the most and that was driving you crazy. You knew it was your time to beg.

“Please, Charles… I can be good for you, let me show you”, you said in a trembling voice.

He looked up at you. “I don’t know if you deserve it. You should rather be punished, don’t you think?”

At those words you knew you had a long night ahead. You nodded at him as you couldn’t wait to be punished.

That night, in fact, you had to wait before coming as Charles teased you a lot but several hours and orgasms later it was worth it… three times.

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc smut #f1 one shot #f1 x you #f1 smut

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meownotgood · 2 years ago

Text

cpr. / dan heng x gn!reader, fluff, soft kisses, dan heng teaches you how to do "cpr" (poorly)

I want to teach you the basics of first aid. Come to my room as soon as possible.

That's it.

There's no, Would you like to come to my room? or, Learning first aid would be helpful for you, what do you think? Dan Heng is just as to-the-point as the first time you met him, and even though you try to pretend like it gets on your nerves, huffing your complaints to March and texting back an annoyed K, you still find yourself shuffling over to his quiet room on the Astral Express the moment your phone pinged you with the notification.

You're silently thinking to yourself as you make your way there, rounding the hallway as slow as you can to give yourself a few extra seconds, or possibly to make Dan Heng wait for longer — or maybe it's both.

Yet despite how much you ponder, even though you've known him for long enough to start understanding him, you can't decide if he's so direct because he's just that way with everyone, or if it's because he knows you'll always listen.

Upon entering, his cabin looks the same as it always does: books strewn about and left open on important pages, glowing circuitry lining every wall, his bed unmade, pillow askew, blanket balled up in the corner. When you step in and slide the door closed behind you, he doesn't bother to look up from where he's sat cross-legged and hunched over a data screen, he simply pats the floor next to him with his palm and cocks his head to signal you to come sit down.

"You almost got yourself killed on our trip to Belobog. Multiple times." Dan Heng explains, tone stern and resolute, not exactly rude, just matter-of-fact. Your knees knock his own once you've settled next to him. Your heart stutters a bit at the proximity, but he doesn't seem to mind. While he speaks, his eyes never stop scanning the screen.

"We'll reach the Luofu soon, and I won't be coming with you. My biggest concern is you not knowing what to do in an emergency." He turns towards you finally, sharp and serious gaze meeting yours. "I'm already not excited about this, but I'd feel better if you let me run you through a few exercises."

"I'll be alright. Don't worry about me. I know enough. I think."

Dan Heng stares back with narrowed eyes and with his arms crossed over his chest, unconvinced.

In a moment, he pushes himself to his feet, walking over to the desk and rooting around its contents, all while completely disregarding your last statement: "I'll lend you a first aid kit. If we start now, I should have enough time to teach you everything you need to know, mostly everything. I'm serious about this, so please try and pay attention. For your own sake."

Right. That's fine. You can handle it. You're a pretty fast learner, you think. And thankfully, mostly everything consists of things you already sort of knew or techniques that are relatively simple to comprehend.

Dan Heng walks you through the steps to bandage a wound — He holds your arm gently as he's showing you the proper way to wrap it, pulling on the bandage tightly and then softly, idly rubbing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

How to treat a fractured bone, what to do if someone is choking — Dan Heng wraps his arms around you and shows you where to place your hands, resting yours on top of his in the center of your stomach. His chest presses flat against your back, his hair tickles the side of your face and you almost miss when he says into your ear, "Shove forcibly right here, and keep going until… Are you listening?"

"Yes," You answer. "Er, sort of." You rectify.

Dan Heng expels a heavy sigh. Right then, you half expect him to give up and kick you out, but instead he holds your shoulder and shifts back, he mutters a barely audible C'mere and guides you to rest your head squarely in his lap, leaving you laying down and peering up at him.

He admits honestly, "I'm worried about you. If something were to happen to you there, I mean I trust everyone to look after you, but…"

It isn't like him to trail off. "But what?"

"But you need to know how to take care of yourself."

Shifting his hand underneath you, he props your head up further with his arm, the metal of his bracer firm on the back of your head. "For now, I'll teach you how to perform CPR. Pay attention to what I do. After this, we'll be done."

The room's silence seems to stretch on. The endless hum from the systems and analyzers echoes in your ears, your heart pounds in them even louder. Dan Heng brushes his nimble fingers over your chest, right between your ribs, as his eyes scan your face they start to take on a certain sort of softness.

He composes himself with a sharp breath out, a deep breath in. And then, he's leaning close, too close, gripping your chin deft between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it upwards. You watch his eyes flutter shut and you follow his lead.

Your heart continues to thump so hard you're certain he can feel it: once, twice. Warm lips brush your own, clearly hesitant, and it's nothing like the straightforwardness you've always been used to getting out of him. No, Dan Heng seems nervous this time, and as he connects with you in an open-mouthed kiss, his hands getting sweaty, warmth pooling in his chest, he can't help his mind from becoming a total mess.

He isn't thinking all of the sudden, isn't considering any of the consequences, like he's always tried to do. Your lips are on his, he didn't lock the door; he nearly forgets to breathe a steady puff of air into your mouth once the tingling feeling and the heat rising to his cheeks commands all of his attention.

Almost as quickly as he leaned in, he's forcing himself to tear away from you, his eyes opening slowly, his expression completely unreadable.

"It's self-explanatory." He reasons, sure of himself, but you swear his voice sounds quieter than it did before. Any louder and he'd trip over his own words, "You got it, or do you need another demonstration?"

"Show me one more time. Just in case."

If anything were to happen to you, if you died and he wasn't there…

And once more, Dan Heng is closing the distance, this time briefly reaching up to brush a few strands of stray hair away from his eyes before tilting his head and pulling you closer.

He's gained a bit more confidence, and he kisses you hard, stops for a moment, caresses your jaw with his fingers and meshes his lips with yours to kiss you again — and you can't help yourself from reaching up, settling your arms around his shoulders to tug him in as close as you can get him. And he lets you.

You'll be fine, won't you? He isn't sure, and he hates that he isn't sure.

He'll have to ask you to promise him.

You freeze, and he pulls away, only by a couple of centimeters, enough to breathe but to still feel his breath fan over your skin when he exhales. He's blushing fully now, you sigh his name against his mouth and it's the sweetest sound he's ever heard; he shivers all the way from his neck to the base of his spine.

His head goes fuzzy, his heart throbs and twists like a burning star — God, he doesn't know what to say. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, but the more he stares down at you, the longer you hold his gaze and let the seconds revolve around and around, he starts to forget it all.

Dan Heng swallows the thickness forming in his throat, and he's about to force himself to say something when you suddenly start speaking instead.

"You're doing it wrong, you know."

"Huh?"

Your head tilts. "Come on, there's no way you're that horrible, right? If you wanted to kiss me before I went, you could have just said so."

And Dan Heng, ever-so direct, always so composed, feels his lips start to quiver and somehow can't manage a response to that.

#dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #dan heng fluff

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hawnks · 1 year ago

Text

Alpha!Nanami/Omega!reader

Word count: ~2,800

warnings: a/b/o typical sexism, abuse of authority (from side character), mention of leg injury

……………………………………………………….

He brings the storm with him.

You learn him in whispers, along with a bevy of myth and rumor. He drifted here from the East. His clothing has been mended at least a dozen times, but his shoes are sturdy, expertly crafted. He makes no noise when he walks — hardly any noise at all. Rōnin, not samurai. And you can’t trust a man with no honor.

He killed his old master, I heard.

No, he was exiled.

Maybe he killed his master because he was exiled.

“He’ll be gone tomorrow once the rain lets up,” the innkeeper says, cutting off all further speculation. “Now, mind your work, not the guests.”

Beside you, someone grouses, “He chose a funny season to wander, if he’s afraid of the weather.”

…

The rain does not let up.

It puts everyone in a sour mood. The streets turn viscous and tacky, the air brutally cool. You draw the short straw, sent to fetch the days meat in the early morning, a long trek to the fishmonger that leaves you drenched down to your underwear.

It takes twice as long as usual — you lose your sandal a few times in the muck — and when you arrive the stand is vacant. The old man had come down with pneumonia.

Frustrated, you take the long way home. They can wait for the bad news, and you’re so soaked a few extra minutes won’t make any difference. You catch the eye of a few of the daimyō’s men, leering at you from beneath awnings, snickering as you walk by.

“Wanna hear a joke about wet omegas?” one of them calls to you.

You grit your teeth and keep walking.

You deliver the news about the fish to the innkeeper at the door to her room, so you can dart out again before she has a chance to say anything. God forbid she sends you out on another errand.

Soaking, furious, you change into your uniform, and begin your shift at the tavern.

The work is tedious, but decently lucrative. You like to talk to travelers, learn what’s happening beyond the boundaries of your town. It’s hard to put into words what you get out of this, hoarding information like you’re starved for it. Maybe the sheer notion that there is someplace else. That this town and its people are not the only things in the world.

The comfort of knowing away is still possible.

You expect to ask the rōnin the same, starry eyed questions, regardless of how the other server is avoiding him. It might even be enough to salvage this shitty morning.

But you don’t get a chance to ask him where he’s from, what he’s seen. You open your mouth to say something, and choke on air thick with the scent of wisteria.

He meets your gaze.

He won’t look away.

Your wet hair drips on his table.

You can’t feel your fingertips.

Shoving yourself away from the table so hard it rattles against the floor, you excuse yourself in a mumbled tumult. You recruit the other server to take over your tables for the rest of the morning. You must look as awful as you feel, because she doesn’t even question it as you retreat back to your room, throw yourself under the quilt. Close your eyes and pray for your heart to settle.

The one thing the gossip didn’t prepare you for — an alpha.

…

Another day of storms. Another morning you draw the short straw.

Another day you limp home through the mud, empty handed.

The soldiers don’t leer today. Instead, the daimyō is waiting for you. It feels like he’s always waiting for you, that he could swoop in any moment, as quick and ruthless as a hawk.

He’s said he could follow your scent straight to you, no matter where you’re hiding. Sometimes you believe it.

He’s leaning against a wall under an awning, but you know the casual stance is deceptive. He can be fast when he wants to be.

He calls your name, an inferred order to come.

You pretend you didn’t hear, keep walking.

He’s standing straight now arms at his side. Ready. Your insides feel leaden. It takes all your willpower to keep moving forward. To disregard an alpha is one, painful thing. To disregard the daimyō is simple insanity.

Water blurs your vision. You can’t tell from the corner of your eye what expression he’s making. Sometimes he finds your insolence humorous.

Sometimes not.

Just a dozen feet further and you’ll be at the bend in the road.

“You should greet me,” he says. Quiet, but you’re so hyper-vigilant, there’s no way you could miss it.

“Good morning, My Lord,” you whisper to your feet.

He doesn’t step out into the rain, but his voice follows you around the corner. Teasing, condescending. “That’s a good omega.”

He could kill you for your bad manners. A servant, ignoring their lord. No one would question it, no one would dispute it.

But then — he would be killing the only omega in the whole town.

As much as he resents your disobedience, he would resent the loss of you even more. An alpha must have an omega, he told you. That is his right.

Chin tucked and scurrying, you don’t realize you’re on a collision course until you’ve already run into the man. The impact sends you tumbling to the ground.

Through the buffer of the downpour, it takes you a minute to recognize him. His scent.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says. “I apologize.”

He bends to offer you a hand up. You just stare at his outstretched palm. Silent. Reeling.

You wait for him to give an order. Demand you take his hand, or that you come to stand on your feeble legs all on your own. It’s simply an alphas nature to wield their power like a cudgel, to bend everything and everyone to their will.

And now you have two of them to deal with.

Another moment of stillness. Your breath steams. Your pulse drowns out all other sounds.

He kneels.

Like this, on the same level, you can see the color of his eyes. So perfectly brown they’re almost black.

“Are you alright?” he says.

His voice is staid and calm. Not demanding. Not cruel. It — confuses you. You don’t understand what he wants from you.

You rise to your knees, shoving him with all your strength. He doesn’t budge. He remains solid and upright beneath your hands. You can feel the muscle, the innate strength. He’s warm, beneath the wet clothes. So incredibly warm.

You wonder if he could soothe your chill. You wonder if the touch of his bare skin would burn.

With a gasp, you tear away, appalled and mystified by your own reaction.

He stays kneeling as you rise and step away. He stays as you rush home, the scent of wisteria heavy in your lungs.

…

The innkeeper is displeased with your performance, of late. She gives you a stern warning that you shouldn’t let your “licentious nature” interfere with work.

“I don’t know why I agreed to take an omega on,” she sighs. “Not like you’ll be around for much longer, anyway.”

You wince. “Am I fired?”

The old woman laughs. “No, no. Not yet, anyway.” She waves at you, a full body gesture. A reference to the omega in you. “You’ll be wed to His Lordship soon, anyway. You won’t have to worry about the toil of work anymore.”

You excuse yourself shortly after.

…

The days are a monotony. Even the fear is so commonplace you lose track of it. The daimyō grows impatient with you. He calls to you from the shelter of the awning, each time a little bolder, a little less demure about his intentions.

“You know, I have a bad habit of breaking my things when I get bored of them,” he tells you. “I wonder what other tricks you have to keep me entertained.”

You hang your clothes to dry every evening, and the drip becomes a steady cadence, like the ticking of a clock.

This is your life.

The rain.

…

The decree is issued that afternoon. Marriage.

You’re to report to the royal estate before sundown, along with everything you own. You will not be coming back.

You pack your bag; you take the road out of town. With the city at your back, you’ll have to pass through the outskirt woods. Then across the river, a dangerous gambit when the water is this high, but that just means you won’t be followed.

You can’t imagine the consequences if they catch you.

The path grows looser the further you go, the mud deep, silt as slick as ice. Arduous and exhausting. And dangerous, too.

You don’t realize your footing is off until it’s too late. You slip, land badly. You cry out before you can stop yourself.

You struggle to your knees, get one of your legs beneath you. A shock of pain has you tumbling down again.

You can’t stand. You can’t run.

Just moments after you fall, a shadow overtakes you. And a man, looming, familiar, crouches before you.

“I heard your voice,” he says. “Can you walk?”

You shake your head, timid, overwhelmed.

“Pardon me,” he says, before hefting you up into his arms.

The ease he does it with is startling. An alpha’s superior strength.

He brings you to a small hunting cabin. Clearly abandoned, but decent enough. It’s dry, and a small fire is going in the hearth.

There’s no furniture except for a rudimentary pallet, which he sets you down on.

“May I?” he asks, hands hovering above your stockinged leg.

He takes your silence as answer enough, unrolling the material gradually, trying not to disturb your injury. He inspects it briefly, pressing carefully. You wince, he stops.

He reaches for his bag, retrieving a small tin. “Your ankle is sprained,” he tells you. “You should return to town in the morning.”

“I need to leave,” you return absently. “I have to get past the bridge.”

He frowns.

“The bridge has collapsed. The river is impassable.” He had tried to leave that morning, only to face the same dilemma. He considers you leg. “Besides, you won’t make it very far.”

The reality of your situation dawns on you, a slow tide of dread.

You missed your chance. You’ve lost your only opportunity at freedom.

You yank out of his grasp, dragging yourself across the floor, to the corner on the far side of the cabin.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you—“

“No. No.” You gnash your teeth at him, feeling wild with fear, unable to see past the dark curtain of it. “I have to go. I can’t be trapped in here with you.”

He raises a hand, a placating gesture, but all you see is motion, canting toward you. An alpha. A threat.

You grab whatever is closest. You throw it at him.

The stick doesn’t even hit him, but that doesn’t stop you. You throw everything within reach.

He just waits for you to give up, but soon enough he realizes how stubborn you can be.

“Enough,” he says. His voice fills the shack, not loud, but indomitable. The undeniable command of an alpha. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would appreciate if you would offer me the same courtesy.”

You drop the stone you were going to hurl at him, suddenly incapable of aggression. You feel — groggy, but less terrified now. Very nearly calm.

His pheromones, you realize.

The notion that he’s using them on you should incense you, but you can’t muster it. You close your eyes, exhausted.

Eventually, after long minutes of tepid silence, he murmurs, “I was here first, you are aware of that, right?” His tone is almost — sullen.

And for some reason, that very human show of petulance is enough to thaw you.

You laugh.

You can’t stop. You laugh so hard it’s hardly laughter anymore. It’s so intense it makes your ribs hurt, brings tears to your eyes.

It feels like the first time you’ve been able to think clearly in weeks.

When you finally calm to a few soft hiccups, you lay down and throw your arms out. Passive.

“Alright, swordsman,” you say, “Fix me.”

He’s slow to approach you, cautious of another rock coming at him. But you remain still.

His touch is gentle, so soft it’s like he’s barely handling you at all. He retrieves the tin of salve you kicked out of his hand, and begins to apply it. It’s cool, slightly astringent. Beneath that, the scent of wisteria.

His fingers are just as warm as the rest of him.

It’s over before you can get used to the sensation of him touching you. He pulls away, returns the tin to his bag. “That will help with the swelling. You should still avoid putting weight on it until it heals.”

“Thank you,” you force yourself to say.

You think you hear him chuckle.

…

Night blooms, full and dark.

Despite your anxiousness, the waiting has grown tedious. Unbearably so.

“Is there anything in that bag to alleviate boredom?”

He glances at you for a moment. Hesitating.

Finally he reaches inside, pulls out a small binding. He passes it to you.

A book of poems. You recognize the shape of the sentences, some of the words. You wonder what use a swordsman has for literature, but the swordsman is full of surprises evidently.

Th pages are worn, the edges soft from thumbing.

“I can’t read,” you say. You look at him. Expectantly.

You hold the book out. He takes it, slowly, gingerly.

He reads.

He’s not much of a performer, although you didn’t expect him to be. It’s clear he’s not used to reading aloud, but he knows these passages well. He’s tone is even, with little inflection. The words come out perfectly paced.

They’re love poems. Not flowery or decadent, but earnest, gentle.

It seems at odds with what you know of him, what you’ve assumed from his status, both as a rōnin and an alpha. You’re not sure what to make of him anymore, how to reconcile the image you built of him in your head and everything you’ve witnessed here.

His swords are leaned against the wall beside him, sure proof of a history of violence.

The question comes, unbidden. “Have you ever killed someone?”

He pauses, glances at you. He searches your face for something, the fear that should accompany those words. But your expression is blank.

Silence, fraught with the tense memory of how you ended up here. What were you running from? Why? He must understand, to some extent. No one reaches desperation without pretext.

“Yes,” he says, simply.

“If I asked you to kill someone,” you murmur. “If I paid you…”

The implication feels enormous within the tight confines of the cabin.

“I don’t believe that’s what you want.”

“What do I want?”

“To not be put in a position where you have to make that kind of decision.”

That makes something in your chest feel tight, on the verge of snapping. Another thing you can’t wrap your head around. Another emotion you can’t name. Uncomfortable, but not frightening. Not like before.

You feel displaced, unmoored.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I’m not being nice,” he says. “You need help. I’m in a position to provide it.”

And that seems wrong to you. Just because someone has the means doesn’t mean they’ll offer them, certainly not freely. Especially not when someone is a such a burden.

“I’ve never met an alpha who’s kind to an omega just for the sake of it,” you say despite his denial.

He mulls that over for a moment, head cocked as he decides how to respond.

“I didn’t know you were an omega until tonight,” he says, quietly. “I had my suspicions, but…”

“Were my bountiful charms not enough to tip you off?” You snort at his blank expression, too polite to disrespect you with an answer. “Why now?”

“Your scent. It’s…subtle. Easy to miss, especially under these circumstances.”

“What do I smell like?”

He smiles, for the first time since you met him. It softens his severe features, makes him look younger. Less world-weary. “You smell like rain.”

He continues reading as the sky continues to churn, until you can hardly keep your eyes open, just barely holding on to the soft thread of words.

“Sleep,” he says gently. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Despite yourself, you believe him.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #HAPPY FOUR AM #here’s this <3 #I knowwwww there’s like a thousand typos in here I just know it #I wanted to finish this tonight I felt compelled to #also I’m so sorry if u actually know stuff about history I am just making stuff up as I go <3 #JSJSJDJDJDJD #anyway……#one of the stranger aus I’ve written #cw: a/b/o #tw: a/b/o

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lo1k-diamonds · 8 months ago

Text

SX Seoul Series | Jimin Entry 💜 Like Crazy

GIF by cordiallyfuturedwight

PAIRING: Jimin x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You let your desires run wild and things got too far while figuring out the choreography for Jimin's next single. You thought it was best to pretend it never happened, but he decided to chase you, hoping to set things right.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

GENRE: strangers to lovers, smut, soft but filthy (?)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: pwp (porn w/ plot really), mentions of drinking, misunderstandings, unprotected sex (wrap it up), semi-public sex, Jimin loses control and I find that endearing, light sub/dom with the reader being the dom, oral (f), hand job, edging, playing with cum, squirting, riding, breast worship & play, multiple orgasms, praise kink

A.N. 2024 started with the thoughts that inspired this fic, and writing it, I don't know. Jimin matched this energy perfectly, I can't explain it. Hopefully, you'll agree 💜

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Jimin went quickly up the stairs while lowering his head under the drizzle. He ignored the people near the railing lining up, only glancing to confirm the presence of the lighted ice-blue stripes on the wall: SX.

He raised his head in time to face the bouncer, who recognized him and let him in immediately, but only relaxed fully once he was in the club’s lobby. There he shook the traces of rain off his black leather jacket before running his hands a couple of times through his hair, smoothing and rippling the dark strands simultaneously.

People laughing and chatting went around him to enter the club proper and he glanced but kept his head low. He knew the club’s owner and knew he tried to keep that club room on the exclusive side — to the entertainment industry — but to Jimin, that was a double-edged sword. On one side, that meant he was sure to find you there, on the other he risked being recognized by what were essentially colleagues and friends.

He released a breath to soothe himself and brushed his hair one last time before going in. Not that it mattered, he concluded, as the flashing lights and loud music made his eyes blink and bones vibrate. He was free to go to a club whenever he wanted, regardless of who spotted him. What mattered was to find you.

His first searches in between the crowd were unsuccessful, so he neared the bar and asked for a drink. As he waited, he instantly turned to try his luck again only for the owner himself to recognize him and chat him up.

Jimin was polite, talking easily about how busy he was working on his solo work that would be out soon.

“The vibe kind of reminds me of this place,” he offered with a smile, taking the martini to his lips after swirling the twist of lemon peel inside.

The conversation didn’t last long and when the owner had to give his attention elsewhere, Jimin was finally free to let his thoughts overrun him. He needed to find you, and fast.

He knew you’d be there, he heard you scheduling it with the other dancers earlier. Earlier—

He almost choked thinking about it, the lights making him dizzy for a moment as he put the glass down on the bar counter.

What was he doing? Chasing you like that? Maybe he was crazy. What would that accomplish? What if you would just mock him? For—

Oh shit, his stomach twisted. What if you had already told everyone?

Damn it, he shouldn’t have let it play out like that. But he was genuinely powerless then, so out of it he only remembered being relaxed and molded to the hardwood floor beneath him.

“Good job,” you had told him in a velvety tone, lips hovering above his just after a sensual quiet laugh had snapped him away from his shock.

Were you mocking him then? No, he didn’t think so. But he was getting out of a high, so could he trust his judgment? And in a second you were no longer straddling him, but gone. He had sat up as quickly as he could only to see the door closing behind you, blocking him from calling your name. And then he glanced down at his crotch only to be confronted with—

He snapped his head back; that red smudge at the corner of his eye, was that you?! He was turning to the dance floor with his drink to drown his sorrows when he thought he saw you entering the room, and he was right! You were with friends, laughing and having fun, and his guts instantly twisted like he had to barf.

But he took deep breaths and calmed down. He knew you — you weren’t like that. He had to trust that. He glanced at you again, at your genuine smile, and wondered what your eyes would tell him if he faced you. Were you proud? Amused? Indifferent?

He forced himself to face the bar and drank the rest of the martini in one go before facing himself in the mirror behind the displayed bottles. This was his life, he was in control of it. He was there for a reason and he was going to do it.

He went straight for you, something similar to a tunnel narrowing his vision. His heart was racing deafeningly inside his chest, to the point he wondered where the music had gone, and then he touched your shoulder.

You turned around and your eyes widened right before you chucked and he thought his heart stopped.

“I thought you had enough dancing for today,” you asked cheekily after a small bow of your head, impermeable to his paleness and breathlessness.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

His voice was quiet and you had the distinct impression he was hiding, which instantly set your nerves on high alert. “Of course. What is it?”

He hesitated, and at that instant, you knew everything was fucked. “It’s… it’s private. I’d prefer it if we go somewhere quiet.”

Your stomach fell to the floor, but you still nodded. What else could you do? He was still the artist hiring you.

He waved at you to follow him and you did, instantly chastising yourself for being nonchalant about everything. But what else could you do? Jimin was a fucking star, you doubted any of it mattered. He’d play it cool and—

He stopped by the bar to speak to a bald guy you had the impression was the bar owner, but you didn’t listen. Jimin wanted to talk in private, and after what had happened, you could only think of one thing he wanted to say.

Of course, he would fire you. He was so keen on doing it, that once he spotted you, he couldn’t let it go or wait for Monday. And of course he wouldn’t, you should have known. You had totally lost face after going overboard like that.

The bald guy spoke with another bartender before waving at Jimin to follow him, to which Jimin glanced at you before going after him. There was a door in the mirror wall beside the bar and it led to a corridor. The house music was halved there already but you didn’t pay attention to the owner’s indications; you only followed Jimin, even after the bar door closed behind you.

It wasn’t that Jimin had to play it cool or that you expected him to because he was a star, you argued in your thoughts. Not even because you thought that happened to him all the time or anything like that, just—

You heaved a deep breath, settling things with yourself — it was just tension. Tension was meaningless to someone like him, that was all. That was what you thought, and that wasn’t a crime. The arguable crime was what you did before.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, you concluded, following after Jimin in silence. But who were you kidding, you absolutely should not have. You would soon have a brilliant ten-year career as a dance coordinator. Risking it in the spur of the moment was possibly the dumbest shit you had ever done. The problem was that it never felt like you were risking anything.

You were experimenting with the choreography. During the second verse of the song, a parallelism should occur where a female dancer and Jimin should mirror each other. After a full day of going over the chorus choreography with him alone, as the choreographer, it was your job to come up with ideas but he effortlessly suggested working on them with you. Jimin was always like that, wanting to be involved in his choreos, and you didn’t mind it at all. Granted you were both exhausted, and you’d admit he was…

You glanced at him. He always made you flutter in various ways, and dancing with him or watching him dance was no different. But you could stay professional; you had worked together before, and there was never an issue.

But today you were experimenting with potential dance moves for that verse and you suggested lying down. He was curious about it and asked you to explain, and you told him, “Like a worm dance move, but one over the other. Let me show you, lay down.”

He lay on the dance room floor and you placed yourself with your sneakers next to his hips. Once he gave you the go-ahead, you bent forward with your hands ready to catch you on either side of his head and let your body fall over him, curving from your chest to your stomach, hips, and knees before your feet touched the ground, and you got up. You couldn’t forget his expression as you did it: his cheeks gained color, his parted lips revealed his surprise, and as your face hovered over him, his glistening stunned eyes were on you before lowering to what you hoped was a good view, aka, your cleavage.

“What do you think?” You had asked.

“Again,” was all he had said.

So you did it many times more, trying to connect from the previous step in the choreography and then trying to figure out where to go from there — if you should get up on your feet or just stay on your knees or maybe something else.

“Then we can find a way of… getting you up again,” you were winded as you quite simply stayed seated on him. You wouldn’t have normally but you were exhausted, so you didn’t move, with your core dangerously close to his. So close that you instantly thought, Not that we need to, you’re already up.

And the thought should have scared you, but as you both recovered your breaths, you just stayed put, facing each other. His gray sweatpants left nothing to the imagination from where you were sitting and your leggings only helped. It was thoughtless of you to move an inch only to feel him a bit better, and you were startled into freezing when his dark eyes snapped open. Yet he said nothing, did nothing but look at you, the both of you sweating and still panting. Until his hands brushed your hips and the scales tipped. He squeezed ever so slightly, and you let yourself fall.

Jimin opened the last door at the end of the halfway and you followed him inside. When he closed the door behind you, the music became barely audible and you could hear yourself think. And panic. And make the right choice like the professional you were.

“I understand,” you started, turning to him once you reached the desk on the opposite side of the room. You were in an office, and as small as it was, at least you had distance between you. “You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll give my resignation letter tomorrow.”

“What?” He gaped, blinking his normally sweet eyes, “Why?”

Your eyebrows twitched, “What do you mean, why? For—” Your breath got caught up in your throat and you suddenly were at a loss. How could you say it? You sucked in a breath, “For acting inappropriately.”

His eyebrows pinched ever so slightly and you thought that speaking ahead could at least save your career.

“I’m sorry if I harmed you somehow. That was not my intention. I— I got carried away.”

You wondered if you misstepped by admitting that much, but instantly your eyes dropped to his lips and the memory flooded you. They were incredibly soft, as was his tongue, playful in a delicious kiss that had you forgetting everything aside from how hard he was beneath you.

You forced yourself to look down and bow respectfully, “Please don’t worry about—”

“You didn’t finish.”

You raised your head, “What?”

“You didn’t finish.”

You straightened back up and blinked. You gave it time, but you had nothing. What was he talking about?

Oh, right.

“The choreography? You have a lot of it already,” you smiled pacifyingly. “I’m certain you can get someone to fill in the gaps.”

“No,” he stepped forward. “You.”

You blinked, drawing a blank again. “Me? I don’t understand.”

“You—” He hesitated for only a second, “You didn’t come.”

Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, but then you pursed your lips, “So?”

“So,” he took a step forward. “You left before I could do something about it.”

You could almost hear the click as you thought you had caught on to him, “You mean you want to finish what we started? Not fire me?”

His expression only softened as he nodded, and yet for you, it was even more confusing.

“Really?” You asked, blinking in surprise.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No!” You almost shouted as he tilted his head, so you reeled it back in quickly, “No, definitely not, I just—” He stayed quiet as you struggled for words until you just sighed, saying the first thing that came to mind, “I just didn’t think you’d want that.”

“Why not?”

The way he rolled his shoulders reminded you of the tension building between you. You were sort of blind to it before, as you had been worried about your future for a moment there, but now you could feel it lacing around your neck again. He was right there like a pretty picture, just waiting for you to answer or do something, leaving you space to decide whatever, and yet you were still wary of making the wrong decision.

“Because… That’s not very professional,” you settle with, deciding to still be cautious about it.

But he just chuckled, “I think we’re past worrying about that. Or not?”

Your mouth moved without filter, “If you want us to be, then we are.”

His smile potentially rewired your brain. Even as he looked down and seemed to consider something, all you could do was wonder if this was real. Jimin was really telling you not to worry about being professional because he wanted to finish what you started at the dance studio and holy shit, you were getting hot.

“I…” He started, and you attuned instantly. “I’d like it if we kept it between us.”

“Deal.”

He could see you relaxing in a way, and now he was certain that your posture had changed. Just like before at the dance studio, your shoulders were straight, your posture intent, ready to move. He didn’t have to hide his eyes tracing your curves because you were doing the same to him. And it burned. Usually, he preferred to have clothes on; he was never the most confident about his body. But with you, it felt different. Perhaps because of before but… With you, the clothes were in the way.

He took a deep breath and pulled on the collar of his leather jacket as it was gluing to his skin, “I’m not sure what this means but…” He looked back at you with darkening eyes. “I don’t want to think right now.”

You instantly nodded in agreement, then shook your head the next second, “Yes, no thinking. I just want to know one thing,” you started, mind falling deeper into that rabbit hole. He nodded. “How did you plan on finishing me off?”

Your heart was drumming fast, but that was it. His lips parted in a bit of shock, but you didn’t take it back. He could back out, but if he wanted it, then you were in and this was what it meant. You wanted to know how he planned on continuing this partially because you wanted to know if you were on the same page, but also to know—

“Eating,” he breathed, and your eyebrows jumped. He must have noticed your eagerness because he licked his lips as a hand ran through his hair, “Eating you out. Burying my face in—”

His breath caught and you couldn’t help yourself; you shook your head almost anxiously, “Say it. Come on, please,” you were asking and it was enticing. “Say it for me.”

His reaction was to rub his face in embarrassment, “I can't believe I'm saying this to you.”

“Why?” You almost pouted, “I want to hear it.”

“Yes, but…” he didn’t seem to know how to face you or answer until he took a breath to renew his courage. “Talking… is hard. I should finish you first.”

He took a step forward but you raised your hands with a light frown, “Wait. Talking is important. This is not a race.”

“No, of course not. And yes, I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk, it’s just—” You had lowered your hands and his discomfort was abundantly clear, making you wonder what was going on. He heaved a deep breath before confessing, “I feel like I failed.”

For a second, you thought this was a terrible idea. If he wanted to be with you because of a semblance of hurt ego or pride, then you were not interested. But then… You knew Jimin, you had worked together before. He was a perfectionist but he wouldn’t come this far just for that.

So you allowed yourself to dig deeper, and stepped closer to him, “Because you came?”

“I couldn't control it. I tried,” he was apologetic and you closed the distance between you two.

“I saw it,” you acknowledged, then smiled. “You looked so cute trying, groaning a no even when your orgasm overcame you.”

He looked down and you saw that same embarrassment that now you were starting to gain a distaste for. Because that was nothing to be embarrassed about. Hell, you loved that you drove him that insane just by straddling and kissing him. Just thinking of the frenzy that had you dry-humping him and kissing him like he was the air you needed had your temperature rising. He had no way of knowing how close you had been nor how it filled you with pride when he twitched inside his pants and groaned into your kiss. At that moment, you had thought that playing with him would have been the best thing ever. Then you realized who you were doing that with and thought that leaving was the best course of action.

Well, you weren’t leaving this time.

You had a better idea. Your lips curved as you got your jacket off, knowing the deep cleavage on that red dress could convince him to look back up.

“Maybe you were too turned on,” you sighed after throwing the jacket over a nearby chair. You smirked at his eyes on you and casually adjusted the bra stripes, making your breasts bounce. “Wouldn’t blame you,” you shrugged, tone brazen as you relaxed. “It could be,” you continued, your hands forming a v down your stomach to your mound. “That this pussy is just magical.”

He couldn’t hold back his chuckle and you grinned, even as he shook his head with color on his cheeks.

“Isn't that why you thought of eating it?”

“I think it's your hips,” he voiced, endlessly more at ease. You could hear it and see it. “The way you move… the way you dance has always made me imagine, but today the way you moved to—” Your look was intense but you knew he could take it. “—to grind on me just—”

“Got you bursting despite your best efforts?” Your tone was almost condescending and to your surprise, he simply nodded.

“I'm sorry I couldn't wait for you.”

And that did it for you. “Don't be sorry, you're here now.” You passed by him and happily found a key on the door that you turned. You glanced at him but he only ever looked at you, never losing sight, so your lips curved, “I'd say this is way better.”

He didn’t oppose you in any way as you got around him to reach the desk again, only this time you sat on it. You spread your legs and his tongue peeked between his lips.

You smirked, “Come here.” He moved but his eyes were restless; indecisive on where to focus first. Right before he could reach you, you added, “Kiss me first.”

Still, as he got in between your legs, first he tentatively traced your legs up to your knees and hips with the back of his fingers. Gently but in awe, holding his breath to scout your reaction. You smiled at him and opened your arms and your welcome had him melting forward with his eyes set on your lips.

You closed the distance between you so your mouths could meet, squeezing your knees to his hips so he knew not to move away. While your arms wrapped around his neck relaxedly, you moved your lips at your tempo, knowing that he’d follow. You imposed a slow rhythm, mouths opening millimeter by millimeter to allow for your breaths to mix progressively, tastes to be shared patiently, and tongues to finally touch in sensual flicks that had him groaning mutely.

You were doing it again, he thought, needing to hold your waist and press himself closer to make sure you wouldn’t leave. Just like before, he trusted you without a thought and your kiss was enough to dazzle him, to make him want to follow the rails you set out for him if only because it was you. He wanted it all. If he sucked a deeper breath, it was to breathe you in. If he chased your tongue, it was because he wanted more of what you were giving. If he pressed your waist, it was because he needed to be grounded. Because he was already over the moon, sweating under those stupid layers of clothes, painfully hard and away from that magical pussy of yours, and lost. So lost if you wouldn’t show him the way.

He didn’t know if you realized it, but he trusted your guidance and you didn’t disappoint. You hugged him closer, pressing your chest to him and giving him space to join your cores. Even through his pants, you could feel his bulge, and you wanted it. You opened your eyes during your kiss and all that you could see was absolute relaxation and vulnerability on those sweet lines of his, so you took the next step.

First, you wrapped your legs around him, crossing them over his perky ass. Then you pressed him closer, right before stretching your legs, the movement making him go back, right before you pressed again to draw him close. It created a push-and-pull move that had him grazing against your center ever so slightly, making you flutter around nothing just at the suggestion. And you could tell he appreciated it, if only by the way he sighed and his lips became lax with the distraction. You gripped his hair by the back of his neck and he went with it, letting you split your mouths while your lower body dance continued.

His eyes opened a slit to face you and that view was fatal. He was a fucking gorgeous man, with his kiss-bruised lips and mute groans escaping them all while dark eyes invited you to have your way. And you would because at that point you wanted little more than to play with him all the way.

It was stronger than you; a moment of that view, of his bulge making your imagination fly, and you couldn’t stop yourself. In a matter of seconds, your free hand was forcing its way inside his pants, not even bothering to unbutton them, just squeezing in between and passing every layer of clothing until you gripped his hard cock.

He groaned with lips parting further, surprised with your boldness, but not dissatisfied with it. Quite on the contrary, judging by his precome on your hand. His fingers gripped your waist harder but he stayed exactly put, letting you squeeze the head tightly and jerk him as much as you could with the clothes’ constraints.

But you liked them on. Your tongue peeked between your lips as you took in that full image. Park Jimin still had his black leather jacket on but was covering your fist in precome, groaning with pleasure on an expression you didn’t guess he let many others see. No one would know how weak you left him even if they barged into the room right now, and you instantly knew no one else could do that to him. You could read it in his eyes — he was taken, he was yours, and he wanted you to have him. And if on any other day, you could have had fun just teasing and testing his limits, that would have to wait for now. Tonight you wanted to be with him.

So you let go of his hair and jumped a bit on your ass while you pulled the hem of your dress up the curve of your hips. His eyes didn’t miss anything, not your round hips being revealed and surely not your chest bouncing. Just by the way he looked at you, you knew he was your kind of guy, but not yet. You had that office at the back of a club, after all, you were not going to make it a quickie.

“Pull your clothes down.”

He blinked questioningly and you smiled and nodded. As he unbuttoned his pants and forced them and his underwear down his hips as best he could, you could only guess what all of that was doing to him. Your teases, your generous cleavage glistening under the office lights, your raised skirt suggesting what could come next, and finally, your request laced in a low lustful tone. His obedience was rewarded with wider movements of your fist up and down his shaft, which would have all your attention if his cheeks weren’t flushed. Fuck, you wanted to bring him to his knees crying with bliss, show him he was the key to heaven itself and you were the gatekeeper.

But not yet.

Your firm hand around his cock pulled him closer as you sat on the edge of the desk and spread your legs. He almost fell over you, supporting himself on the table to stay at bay only to waver on his knees. Your laced panties were red, just like your dress, and contrasted with his pink engorged tip.

“Look,” you called to him, eyes fixed on the view of his cock head rubbing on your clothed clit. “You have such a pretty cock.”

His groan was instant, bringing more fire to his cheeks if that was possible. You were looking at him now, seeing how tense he was, how he was gripping the desk on either side of you, how he was trying not to buck his hips to help you, but most importantly, how beneath the embarrassment and desire, he was proud. You grinned wickedly when you realized this, thoughts running wild as you licked your lips.

“Is it good?” You asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t getting lost too soon.

And he nodded, trying to suck in a ragged breath, “I said I’d eat you.”

His hoarse voice had you sinking your teeth in your bottom lip, and after a moment of consideration, you let him go. Your hand was wet around your thumb and pointer where his precome had found purchase, and you brought it up. He had staggered with the loss of your hand, deciding to wait for your signal before getting on his knees to eat you, when he almost choked. Your tongue was out, savoring him off your hand slowly as your eyes stayed on him, and he felt a new wave of heat hit his back. He was melting, hanging on a breath and on your opinion because you were surely measuring up his taste before you gave your go-ahead.

Your lips twitched before you gave a last lick up your thumb, and he finally breathed. Yet he only unfroze when you leaned back on the desk and uttered what resembled a challenge, “Go on.”

His knees hit the floor at super speed, followed only by his starving eyes and his fingers looking to hook your panties. You only twitched your eyebrows when he glanced up in confirmation but then he was free to pull them down your legs. The wet spot on the outer side was obvious, it was his doing, but as the fabric passed your knees, the white and translucent arousal pooling on the inner side had him salivating.

You could see in his focused expression that he wasn’t taking things lightly, but you considered he might have been intimidated. You were wrong. His eyes were fixed on his goal and the first thing he did was bury his face right at your center, rubbing it in and taking a deep breath as if he had finally come home. It was enough to make you throb, but it was his hunger that did you in.

He was starving; the use of the word eating had not been lost on him. His mouth was everywhere in the beginning, followed by his tongue collecting all of your dripping wetness as if it was an oasis in a desert, and then he settled. He took a deep breath with a whiny groan that you doubted had been voluntary and focused on lapping at your sex, licking and licking in a certain rhythm that had you finally blushing and groaning at the ceiling.

In between your haze, you found yourself smirking. Of course, a dancing god would have a perfect tempo but it was almost unfair. You wanted to have fun and make him work for it, and instead, he was the one driving you crazy.

So much so you needed to grab his hair and when you did, you clenched, biting your bottom lip not only not to moan but also not to come. Unknowingly, he made it easier for you. Maybe he thought you needed a break and that was your way of asking because he gave you one, nuzzling your clit instead. Only that made you squirm and grip his head harder, pressing him to you for more pressure, and he got the gist. He gripped your hips in place, sticking his tongue inside you for a moment to collect your taste only to go back to licking you deliciously over your clit.

And you finally moaned and bucked your hips, the searing sensation so close to where he was going down on you, you could have come on his face.

But you held back. You pulled his head away by his hair and almost lost your nerve at his swollen lips and hungry eyes. Why did he look so fucking delicious? Was it because he was covered in you from nose to chin?

“Fuck, if I knew you ate pussy this good, I would have gone straight for your mouth instead of leaving.”

His tongue darted out to lick your taste from his lips as his fingers dug into your skin. He couldn’t think any further than the idea of ravishing you, especially now that you were not only giving him a chance but regretting leaving him too soon. “I can keep going and finally make it up to you.”

“No,” you decided quickly, sitting back up. “Not yet.” He furrowed his brow for a moment, unsure of what you were asking. “I’ve changed my mind, I want to feel you first.”

He didn’t move. The way you seemed to be holding back brought doubts to the forefront of his mind, which brought hesitation. He could do it, he showed you he could do it, so why would you stop him now?

“Look,” you asked sweetly as you leaned forward to cup his balls. He was standing again because you had pulled him up and he observed you with curiosity. “Still so full,” you cooed, rolling his balls on your hands gently. You saw his Adam’s apple bobbing and you grinned, “And with such a pretty hard cock.” You grabbed him with your other hand, jerking him swiftly and firmly over his tip, swaying him on his feet. “Where else? I want you inside me,” you sighed, looking down at the precome spurting out of him again. Fucking tease he was. “Want to see the face you’ll make when my walls squeeze the cum out of you.”

He blinked and licked his lips, knowing fully well you expected an answer but needing to scramble his mind for one, “Whatever you ask.”

You smiled mischievously and slowed your fist on him only to beckon him closer, “Kiss me.”

Your traces on his face were waning but you were quick to lap your tongue around his mouth messily, holding his chin in place so he wouldn’t escape you when you pushed your tongue inside him. Your excitement was taking the breaks out of you and it showed when you pumped his cock harder, not giving him a second to breathe. He had to fight or submit to your tongue as you pressed in, biting his lip whenever he tried to evade you, even if to moan your name. But the effects of that sound only made it worse.

Your legs laced around him and pressed him closer so you could guide the crown of his cock to your entrance, “So hard and thick.”

Your lewd voice dragged as you clenched around his girth and it tried to catch in you. His hands came to rest on your legs, eyes fixed on the view while his lower lip became trapped between his teeth. He was hanging on, desperate for the moment it would happen.

“You’ll stretch me so good,” you moaned at the thought, and his sole reply was a jerk of his hips. You licked your lips at the initiative and pressed your shins to his ass to get him swaying. “Gonna make me all wet and crazy for this cock,” you rasped as you saw, same as him, his cock trying to push into your closed fist to reach your sex. “Gonna fill me up with that sweet cum of yours. Aren’t you?”

You asked as you grinned, feeling the precome fill your hand again. Fuck, he was messy, and he had no idea how much you liked that.

“Shit,” his mumble was his only verbal response, meanwhile his hips gained momentum. He clearly enjoyed your incentive, your fist pulsing around his tip in a tease, threatening to catch him only to let him go back in an endless game that had him shaking.

You saw it, and you loved it and couldn’t not play with him. It was stronger than you. As he kept jolting, trying to ever reach inside you, you caressed his hip gently with your free hand, leaning closer to meet him halfway. Because he was bending forward, flushed and focused, breathing heavily as he rutted into your hand, so bent on getting inside you no matter what it took. He was facing you, reading your lips as you cooed him sweetly, fueling his hunger with yours and falling into your kiss.

You licked his lips in a tease, “Harder.”

And he did, following your lead as he grunted and tensed under your fingers now at his sweaty neck. You were entranced by him in ways hard to describe: his parted pouty lips, his breathtaking stare, and his cocked eyebrows telling you that he was rising to the challenge and giving you what you wanted. Your mouth opened too when his cock finally slid so well in your fist that the tip kissed your folds and you shuddered. His hands had sneaked up to your hips and gripped harder, committed to that last stretch to get to you, and you licked your lips.

And let go.

You opened your hand and he suddenly slid inside you, splitting you so harshly you screamed with the invasion, and so did he. He almost collided with your chest, dodging your face last second so you wouldn’t head bump, but his focus had shifted. Instantly he groaned, and you burned in bliss. You knew the way your walls were squeezing him was mind blowing, your throbbing to accommodate his girth helping you and him. He twitched and groaned into the crook of your neck and you knew he had lost control again.

Fuck, you just adored the way he breathed when he was high and coming down, it was perfect. Riveting, exhilarating, heavenly. All the things you knew he would be, and more.

He cursed into your shoulder and you grinned, making sure to tell him, “We’re not done.”

He straightened back to look at you and you smiled endearingly as you cupped his cheeks.

“You just stretched me,” you cooed. “Gonna let me ride you?”

He blinked, “Now?”

“Now, gorgeous,” you sighed with a smile, crossing your legs on his ass firmly before he had any ideas. It was hard not to enter a frenzy after so much foreplay, especially now that his come was threatening to drip out of you. “Said I’d empty you, and you’re not done yet.”

You reached to pull his leather jacket back and off him then pulled his shirt up without the slightest hesitation. Your nails grazed down his pale skin over his pecs, marking him as you felt the muscles leading to his thin waist.

Your fingers brushed his NEVERMIND tattoo, “You’re so fucking hot, no wonder.”

He pressed his palms to his eyes and you could guess he was letting the embarrassment back in, and you weren’t having it.

“Look at me,” you demanded firmly, and he lowered his hands to look at you in surprise. “I need to ride you,” you said and bucked your hips in case he had forgotten where he was still sheathed. “Take me and sit on that chair.”

He glanced at the chair next to him where you had thrown your jacket, and wrapped his arms around you to do as you requested. As he did, he wondered how he could break down to you that eventually, he’d get soft, but the thought never reached his mouth because you were kissing his head and pressing yourself to him. As soon as his ass hit the chair, your feet found the ground and you rolled your hips over him with a quiet moan that covered him in goosebumps. Right, he thought, tension stiffening him from head to toe. He was still hard inside you, you felt that good.

You could feel him stretching you, barely any of his come dripping down, and so you moved tentatively only to lose your mind soon after. “Fuck you’re so good,” you mewled into his ear as you hugged him and rocked over him. “Your cum got me sliding so well,” you sighed, and he dug his fingers into your waist. “Not just a pretty cock, huh?” You leaned back and smiled, letting him see how fucking crazy he made you. “But a good cock,” you moaned, never stopping your ride. “Made to keep me well stuffed and satisfied, hm?”

Pleasure was twisting his features and you doubted he would answer you.

You leaned forward, “Fuck, I need to empty you.” You were starting to hump him hard, not only searching for his cock to hit inside you but for a roughness over your clit. You gripped the hair at the back of his head and reached to ghost his lips, “Leave you spent and pretty.” Your hips gained traction and the way he was looking back at you, as if he knew how crazy he drove you, had you gripping harder. “Can I?”

He smiled, “Yeah.”

And it broke you. You took support on his shoulders and jumped once on his cock, making sure he was ready for you. He was.

“Get your pants off and away.”

“What?”

“Do it: out of your feet and kick them away,” you repeated, giving him the time to do it without getting off your throne. Once he sat back up, grabbing your hips comfortably, you rolled them again, “Your come is dripping.” You were gluing your chest to his and he was busy looking at it, wrapped in red. “We’re gonna make such a mess.”

You chuckled sensually and kissed his cheek all the way to his ear, biting on his earlobe as you got comfortable on his lap.

“Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” You asked gently before licking his ear, “I can always ride your pretty mouth.” He was squirming when you tried licking him again, so you pulled back. “Good?”

He nodded, biting his lip as he eyed you, and you smirked. You leaned in to bite his pouty lip for just a languid moment before you pressed on your heels to slide up his shaft and then fall down. And again and again, easily letting the moans out of your lips now that you weren't holding back. His head fell back a little, eyes fixed on you as his chin dropped, and you took it upon yourself to make him sound pretty.

The slaps, the wetness, the tight vice you had him under; he couldn’t even think. How could you feel this good? His toes were curling, his nails sank into the fabric of your dress as he looked at your chest bouncing in front of his face. Fuck, you were gorgeous. He wanted to be with you and he had dreamed of your fucking him, sitting on his face and smothering him, but shit, he wasn't expecting that. He had come just before and still, you felt insanely good.

Your lips twitched into a mischievous smile, “Do you like it?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, so fucked out you only tensed more.

“Good,” you chimed happily, kissing his mouth before leaning to nibble on his earlobe again. “Fuck, I wanna come hard on your cock, show you how good you make me feel.” He shuddered, holding you closer to him. Every word of yours was a moan, he believed you, but he wanted to hear you unfold. “Would you like that? Should we make a mess?”

“Definitely, yes.”

His lips brushed your neck near your hairline and you scratched his shoulders, jumping on his lap as much as your embrace allowed you to. You didn't need much, you had been holding on for so long and the way he pierced you inside was just perfect. It didn't take much to relent the control and your moan pitched, higher and harder with his poking inside, adding to the lewd sounds and the lascivious thought of his balls squashed beneath you as you jumped on him, and you popped.

Jimin was focused on your boobs bouncing nearly on his face when you squealed. He glanced up, avid to finally see you come, but in your scream, he felt wet.

He looked down as your moans subsided and touched his stomach down to where your sexes met. He was wet, like a glass of water had just been thrown there.

“Woah,” he breathed, bewildered.

“Is that okay?” You asked, winded.

“That’s fucking okay,” he rasped, at a loss for words. He had never seen that before and you didn't give him time to think about it.

Your hypnotizing hips kept going as you raised his chin to kiss him. “That’s how good you feel,” you moaned, out of breath. “That’s how hot you are. Fuck, that’s how much I wanted to ride your cock.”

You grabbed his head to kiss him deeply, pushing your tongue in again to lick and flick inside his mouth. Your head was spinning as you got lost, scratching up to his scalp to keep him in place for your pussy to swallow and ride him without a break.

Until you broke away with a whine, “I’m not done.”

“Keep going,” was his instant reply, glistening eyes boring into yours.

“Can you come with me?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You feel really good but I’ve never done it like this before. I’ve no idea.”

Your lips curved with a hint of mischievousness as you brushed his sweaty hair out of his forehead to kiss him there, “I’d like to feel you coming again.”

“Me too,” he leaned into your touch with a sigh, kissing you back when you searched for his lips. “Pleasure yourself, I’ll follow.”

You smiled at his proposition, sliding up and down his shaft with ease. It felt good but you had to build your tension again and to know you had a green light to do as you pleased instantly sparked you. He really seemed to be your type.

You bit his pouty lip gently and dragged a hand of his from your waist to your ass. “Rub it for me.”

The dress had climbed to your waist and he took a moment to palm your round asscheek, feeling how it contracted with every swing of your hips. You were chasing a second orgasm and he groped you with a smile, happily thinking to himself it was a blessing he had come first. Now you could just use him without worries.

And he wanted to help you do it, so he slid his fingers closer to your rim. Your constant jumping got you the rub you asked for, and you squirmed, trying to get more without sacrificing his cock pounding inside you.

He was entranced, seeing your expression riddled with pleasure as he rubbed a bit harder, and soon you clenched hard. So hard he looked down expectantly, the way your body moved blowing his mind irreparably. He was yet to see your tits, but the way he wanted to eat them—

You pressed your lips to his almost anxiously, stopping your movements to stay on his lap and kiss him. He wondered why you had stopped, but your kiss stole his whole reasoning. You were reaching deep, touching corners of him he didn’t know were accessible so easily. But it was unfair to call what you were doing to him easy, it was definitely something only you could do. And in the midst of having his whole mind and body overrun by you, he wondered if he’d ever be able to forget you.

“I have one last request,” you smiled, still so close he nuzzled your skin as he thought that he'd give you whatever you asked for. “Eat my tits so I can come.”

His brain seriously glitched as he looked at you, your smile only furthering the downtime. The sway of your hips entranced him again as you slowly picked the rhythm back up with your eyes set on him. Your tongue peeked between your lips and the corners of your lips twitched slyly — it got you so high knowing that you could make him dazed like that. Everything about his expression and the way he looked down at your cleavage turned you on, and you were the happiest to make it even worse.

But as you tried to pull the dress straps down your shoulders to get more of your chest free, the fabric offered resistance. It distracted you from what mattered and Jimin didn’t like that. Quite the opposite; he liked that even if he glitched and forgot how to use his mouth other than to drool, you were still free to keep going, riding him to your heart’s content. But knowing you wanted his mouth on your breasts and that you were struggling enough that it was ruining your pleasure was unacceptable.

He didn’t think; he gripped the fabric by the deep cleavage and pulled the straps effortlessly over your shoulders along with your bra. Your breasts easily overflowed from your padless red bra and he was in awe. Your tits were moving lusciously along with your body straddling him and his thought process stopped again.

The way he looked at you upped your arousal another notch right before he buried his face in your boobs, pressing them to either side of his face. His thumbs instantly squeezed and rubbed your nipples and your hips bucked, pleasure shooting through you in a way that had you bouncing. And as you did, his come mixed with your slick, dripping down onto him and making you shudder from head to toe.

“Fuck,” you moaned, at the tip of the spear as you looked down at him trying to lick both boobs at the same time. He clearly liked their size, loving the way he could reach both as long as he grabbed them together. “You feel that?” He hummed right as his tongue darted out to lick you yet again. “Fuck,” you dragged, rolling your hips again with a hiccuped movement. “I want you to cover my walls white.”

“I will,” he pulled away to look at you with dark glistening eyes. “Don’t stop, I fucking will.”

He was twitching inside you, holding his orgasm at bay. He could do it better now that he had already come once and looking at you, he knew he wouldn’t fail you this time. It was a wonder to him how he was on edge so soon, but it didn’t matter. Because he was with you, giving you pleasure, touching you and eager to see and feel you unravel again.

Moreover, you actually asked him to do one of his favorite things in the world. He looked down at the precious gorgeous treasure in his hands and couldn’t help himself. He had to play with them, to squeeze, to lick them and bite them, and feel every time you squirmed. Every moan, every shudder, your fingers sinking in his hair to keep him there, and he stayed gladly. It had him twitching like crazy, hanging on a dangerous balance between too much stimulation and just barely enough until you screamed.

He meant to look down to see you coming this time, but as you pressed him to your chest so hard he could barely breathe, there was no way he’d oppose you. Also, he was in heaven, so he didn’t want to. You were squeezing him so well, gripping him so firmly while you squirted around him that it was bliss to finally let go. He breathed you in, perfume and feminine scent imbued together on your chest, right as he rutted into you.

Your orgasm was powerful, taking such a grip on you, that you didn’t realize you were screaming and possibly suffocating him until dozens of seconds later. By then, you could still feel him twitching inside you but what had you biting on your lip was the way he mumbled your name. His eyes were closed, he looked fucked out and exhausted after trying to reach deep inside you, and after being drained of his last drop, your name was the last word spilling out of his lips.

It made you want to hold him and never let go.

You nuzzled him and then reached to kiss his sweaty forehead. As you hugged him, you realized through your haze how much you trusted him. You knew you did it professionally, but now you felt like it was wholehearted. Being vulnerable and intimate was always a difficult choice for you, but this was nice. And good. And wholesome. You sighed.

But as you both recovered your breath and came to, you became aware of being all sticky, hot, and sweaty, and that as soon as you got up, it would get worse. You didn’t want to move, but reality would come knocking soon, and hopefully not literally.

You kissed his forehead again as if to wake him up, and he palmed your waist and lower back gently. That was when you felt confident enough to get up, immediately reaching for the Kleenex box on the desk to put tissues in between your legs right before passing him a few.

You cleaned yourself as best you could and rearranged your dress before turning to him to help him, but he was already clean and putting his clothes back on. You reached for your underwear with a mute sigh; you needed a shower badly.

You tried combing your hair with your fingers and froze when you saw him effortlessly putting every piece of clothing in place, his hair so beautiful it looked like it had just been styled. You were probably gaping because when you blinked, he was already smiling and brushing your hair gently over your chest as if he was enamored by it.

You didn’t know what to say. “I need a shower,” you smiled sheepishly as if to justify why you looked unruly right now and why your hair was being difficult. You felt immediately silly; why would Jimin care about your hair? He lowered his hand though, and you nodded, “I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait,” he voiced when you were already grabbing your purse from the floor and turning to leave. He was running his fingers through his hair in a gesture seemingly detached, but you knew him better by now. He might have been nervous. “I want to invite you to mine but it would be a problem because of photographers and all that.”

“That’s okay.”

You spoke before you could think, but your cheeks still reacted in time. You knew he noticed your blushing but there was no teasing to be found in him, just something akin to a purpose. And it made you raise your eyebrows, reviewing what he had just said.

You licked your lips, “Would you like to come to mine?”

He instantly grinned and closed the distance between you, then cupped your cheeks, “Thought you’d never ask.”

All you saw was his endearing smile right before he kissed you.

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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 25 days ago

Text

can you compete? | pedri gonzalez

🎾 synopsis: You’re a young, rising Spanish tennis player focused on success. But focus is harder to keep when your condo neighbor happens to be Pedri González. He thinks you’d make a perfect team; you’re convinced he’s nothing but a distraction. warnings: light enemy-to-lovers vibes, fluff and mentions of alcohol consumption. (around 3.2k words)

part 1

It’s early morning in Barcelona, and you’re grateful for the quietness. These moments, the rare times you’re actually home, are precious to you. It’s just you, your racket, and the comforting rhythm of a tennis ball echoing off your condo’s shared court.

You’re midway through a rally with yourself when you sense him leaning against the gate. He’s watching – no, studying you. And he doesn’t bother hiding it.

It’s almost embarrassing how often you’ve been catching sight of him lately – like the universe is playing a joke on you. Every time you glance up from the courts or the gym, he’s there, flashing an annoyingly perfect grin at anyone who looks his way.

And everyone’s always looking.

You’ve heard all the stories, of course. That he’s a playboy, a heartthrob, the kind of guy who seems to walk into every room with his own spotlight. His type is trouble for someone like you, focused, aiming high. You don’t need a distraction that comes with a fan club.

But then, here he is, leaning casually on the chain-link fence at the edge of the court, watching you with a crooked smile that makes your pulse kick up. He’s not even pretending to play it cool, and that makes you want to hit your next serve a little harder.

“Trying to impress me?” His voice carries across the empty court, the hint of a challenge lighting up his eyes.

You roll your eyes, hoping he doesn’t see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Not everything’s about you, you know.”

He laughs, pushing off the fence and jogging over to where you stand.

“Alright, fair, maybe I’m the one trying to impress you.”

“Don’t you have a game to train for?” you say, catching the ball mid-bounce, one eyebrow raised.

“I’d rather watch you,” he replies, completely unbothered. It’s easy to see why he’s got a reputation: handsome, self-assured, carrying a charm that, by now, must be fine-tuned.

You roll your eyes, turning back to your practice, but you can feel his eyes on you. It’s hard to ignore the magnetic pull, the way he just… assumes. Like there’s no reason you wouldn’t feel the same spark he claims to see.

For him, it probably makes perfect sense – two rising stars, two athletes pushing the boundaries, both of you Spanish, both young, single and pretty. He probably thinks you’d make some kind of dream team.

But for you? You’re not sure you want the spotlight blending with your private life. Yet here he is, waiting, watching.

You toss the ball up for another serve, ignoring the way his presence makes the air feel charged. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter that he’s watching, that your focus is on the court. But when you glance over and he’s still there, a spark of determination flickers through you.

You could show him, really show him, what focus looks like.

“Want to join?” you call over, keeping your tone nonchalant.

His eyes widen a fraction, surprised at your invitation, but then he grins, crossing the court toward you. “Think you can handle it?”

You don’t bother replying; you just toss him a spare racket and settle into position. His confidence doesn’t faze you. You know your game, and as he takes his stance, you can see he’s trying to match the intensity in your eyes.

The rally begins, and it doesn’t take long to feel the rhythm of the game settle into place. He’s athletic, fast, clearly used to dominating on a field, but it’s different here. On the court, you know how to control each swing, each movement, the pace building until he’s panting, chasing after shots that hit just out of reach.

He misses a return, and you catch a quick, surprised look flashing across his face. It’s almost funny.

“You’re really good,” he says, breathless, as he jogs back to his position.

You shrug, adjusting your grip on the racket. “Didn’t think I’d have to go easy on you.”

His laugh is loud, echoing around the empty court. “Alright, I get it. No mercy, then.” He wipes his brow with the back of his hand, and when you serve again, he’s throwing himself into every swing with even more energy, trying to keep up.

You keep pushing, refusing to let him break your concentration, but there’s something amusing about watching him struggle to meet your pace. The confidence he wore so easily when he first arrived is slowly giving way to real effort. A few more rounds, and you can tell he’s getting frustrated – and determined, his movements sharper, his brow furrowing as he chases down each shot.

But then, he misses again, his racket slicing through air, and he doubles over, panting.

“Okay, I admit it,” he says between breaths, grinning up at you. “You’re better than I thought.”

“Thanks,” you say, barely out of breath, relishing the look on his face. You’re both laughing, the tension between you feeling easier now, almost natural.

And then he pulls his shirt over his head, wiping his face as he does, revealing a torso that’s as infuriatingly perfect as his smile. He catches you glancing, and his smile widens, clearly pleased with himself.

“Trying to distract me?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“Is it working?” he shoots back, his voice full of playful arrogance as he drapes the shirt over his shoulder.

You shake your head, scoffing, but can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. You’re still not interested in the distraction, but you can’t deny he’s entertaining to have around.

“I’m Pedri, by the way.” He finally introduces himself, sticking out a hand.

“Yes, I know,” you reply, just barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “And you know who I am too, don’t you?”

He nods like he’s pleased you called him out. "Of course I do. Hard not to know."

It’s strange, though – after all the crossed paths and stolen glances, this is the first time you’ve actually exchanged names. His hand is warm when you shake it, and there’s an easy confidence in his grip.

“It's funny, right? Somehow, we never got around to introductions,” Pedri says.

You shrug, pulling your hand back. “Guess it didn’t seem necessary.”

“Or maybe you were avoiding it,” he teases, letting his eyes linger just a bit longer than usual. “Hard to get close to you, isn’t it?”

“I’m just here to train.”

His laughter fills the empty court. “Yeah, I noticed that,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “And I thought I worked hard.”

“Some of us don’t rely on charm alone,” you counter, tossing the ball up for another serve.

He watches, and though his expression is playful, there’s something else in his eyes – an understanding, maybe, or a spark of recognition. You might both play different sports, but in some way, he seems to get it: the drive, the endless hours, the need to push yourself to the edge.

For a second, he’s just another athlete, a competitor with the same fire you have.

Then he breaks the silence. “Maybe I’ll have to start coming to the court more often. Could use a rival like you.”

“Or someone to keep you humble,” you add.

part 2

You didn’t expect to see him here, not like this, face flushed and bright from a few too many drinks, eyes lighting up the moment you step into the room. You’re barely through the door when Pedri spots you; he makes his way over, steady but just a little wobbly, and you brace yourself for whatever antics he might have up his sleeve tonight.

“Hey, superstar,” he greets you with a dramatic flair, slinging an arm over your shoulder like he’s known you forever. “You’re late.” He says it as though he’s been waiting all night just to see you, like maybe his whole night’s been on pause until now.

Your friends exchange looks, hiding laughs, but Pedri doesn’t notice. He’s too busy guiding you toward the kitchen, asking if you’ve eaten yet, if you need a drink, if you’re “sure those heels are comfortable” because they look way too high. He’s eyeing them like they’re an injury waiting to happen.

“Careful,” he says, putting a hand on your elbow as you step over a stack of cups. “Don’t need you twisting your ankle, okay? They’re valuable assets to Spain.”

Turns out your friend who’s turning 21 today is actually a mutual friend, and Pedri makes sure to explain that detail to you, like he’d hoped it would be his ticket to seeing you here tonight.

You’re not usually one to drink, but come on, tonight is your close friend’s birthday party, it feels impossible to say no. And a couple of drinks? What’s the worst that could happen? It’s almost the end of the year, and the seasons have been bleeding together – match after match, the endless bounce of the ball inside those white lines. You’re not quite at burnout, but you’re close enough to feel it hovering around the edges. So you let yourself have a little fun.

After a couple of drinks, you’re as drunk as everyone else in the room, feeling light and fuzzy. And suddenly, Pedri makes all the sense in the world. You’re both nestled together on the couch, close enough to feel the warmth of his arm draped around you, the noise of the party fading in the background as you both look at each other like the world just zoomed in on you two. For anyone outside, it’s a ridiculous sight.

Pedri leans close, his mouth just by your ear. “Do you need water? I’ll get you some water.” His voice is earnest, like he’s on a mission, and before you can respond, he’s up, making his way across the room in a slightly unsteady line.

The moment he’s gone, your friends are on you, smirking and whispering. “Oh, he’s definitely into you,” one of them laughs.

You roll your eyes, trying to downplay the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “He’s like that with everybody,” you murmur, brushing it off just as he returns.

“Not everyone, no,” he meets your eyes with a seriousness that catches you off guard. “Just you.” he says, his words drenched in sincerity. And it might have been more meaningful if he didn’t almost drop the glass of water as he tried to hand it over.

You laugh, steadying the glass in his hands. “Maybe you need this more than I do,” you tease, guiding the water to his lips and watching as he drinks.

“Let’s get you some fresh air,” you say, placing a steady hand on his back as you guide him outside the party.

Outside, the night air is cool, and you’re both silent for a moment, just letting it clear your heads. Then, Pedri leans against the wall, hands in his pockets.

"I haven’t been to one of these in a while," he admits, glancing around.

"You mean a party?” you laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” he says, his tone soft but serious. “I’ve been working hard, trying to stay in good shape. And when I found out about tonight, I just thought... well, I’d probably get a chance to see you here. I figured it was worth coming. Then you didn’t show up for a while, and I thought, okay, maybe I’ll have a few drinks and head home. And now… now I’m half-drunk and probably made a complete fool of myself in front of you.”

You feel the warmth creeping up your cheeks, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. His confession hangs between you, and for a second, it’s almost too much. You’re not ready for this – at least, not tonight.

“I know what it’s like, not having time for parties or friends,” you say, looking anywhere but at him. “I’m just… I’m just glad we’re getting to have fun tonight.”

He’s quiet for a beat, and when you finally look back at him, there’s something unreadable in his gaze – a hint of disappointment, maybe.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding slowly, his smile dimming a little. “Me too. I’m glad we’re both here.” He straightens up, brushing the moment aside. “Do you want to go back inside? I think I’m feeling better now.”

Inside, Pedri keeps his distance, giving you space to be with your friends. There’s a subtle shift in him, like he’s taken a small step back, maybe a little hurt by how you brushed off his words earlier. But even with the room he’s given you, your eyes keep finding him across the crowd, drawn back to him.

As the party winds down, your sober friend offers to drive you both home. You and Pedri are tipsy, giggly, and hushed into the back seat, his shoulder pressing against yours. Every little bump on the road sets you both off into laughter over nothing in particular, the comfortable kind of closeness you wouldn’t have allowed at the start of the night.

When the car pulls up in front of your place, you both stumble out, waving goodbye to your friend as they drive off. Pedri follows you to your door, hands in his pockets. There’s a quiet pause between you, and for a moment, everything feels lighter, warmer.

Without much thought, you lean in, ready to end the night with a kiss. But he puts a hand up, stopping you gently.

“No, wait,” he says. He scratches the back of his neck, glancing down before meeting your eyes again. “I want to do this right, you know? Take you on a real date.”

You blink, surprised, his words taking a second to sink in. He stands there looking different somehow – uncertain in a way that’s almost too sincere.

“Why?” you ask, brushing off your own awkwardness with a smile. “What if I don’t feel the same way tomorrow?”

He laughs, but there’s determination in his words. “Then I’ll ask you tomorrow. And we’ll see.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s playing some long game or if he actually means it. But tonight, you decide not to question it. You nod, turning your key in the door, and before stepping inside, you shoot him a small smile.

“Goodnight, Pedri,” you say, not entirely sure about what comes next.

part 4

The court feels different this morning. Usually, it’s your escape – a place where everything falls into rhythm. But today, every bounce of the ball feels heavier, slower. You keep glancing toward the gate, distracted, wondering if he’ll actually show up. The fact that you’re even hoping he will surprises you.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you catch sight of him. He’s lingering at the fence, scanning the court with a nervous edge before his eyes settle on you. There’s a hesitation in his expression you haven’t seen before. It’s a strange look for him.

You’re sweating from practice, and as soon as you realize how out of breath and flushed you must look, a wave of self-consciousness hits. You’re suddenly aware of every strand of hair stuck to your forehead and every patch of dampness on your shirt. Not exactly how you pictured this moment, but there’s no backing out now.

“Hey,” he says, stepping onto the court with a tentative smile.

“Hey,” you reply, doing your best to keep it casual as you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he glances around like he’s never been on a court before. “I told you I’d show up.”

You both fall silent for a second, and it’s almost...awkward. He’s usually so confident, but today there’s something different – a softness, maybe even a hint of uncertainty. Like he’s trying to gauge if you’re still open to this, whatever this is.

You hand him the spare racket, and he takes it with a sheepish grin. “Promise you won’t be too hard on me?”

“No promises,” you tease, falling into an easy rally.

As you both start hitting back and forth, the tension loosens, replaced by a comfortable rhythm. He’s not half bad, but you’re still making him chase the ball from one end of the court to the other. It’s fun watching him struggle, laughing every time he stumbles but refusing to give up.

“Wow,” he says, catching his breath, “This is... intense.”

You shrug, laughing. “Or maybe you’re just out of shape.”

He shakes his head, laughing along. But then he stops, staring at you for just a second too long.

“You should go on a date with me.” His voice is soft, almost vulnerable.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “A date?” You toss the ball lightly in your hand, trying to keep your composure.

“Yeah.” He nods, his eyes not leaving yours, searching for your reaction. “I know I’m probably out of my league here, but I thought it was worth a shot. Just one date.”

There’s something disarming about his honesty. You hadn’t expected this level of sincerity from him, especially not after the way he usually carries himself. You bounce the ball again, the motion a nervous habit. “What makes you think you can keep up with me?” you ask, attempting to sound playful.

He laughs, reaching up to catch the ball mid-bounce. “I’m tougher than I look,” he says, holding the ball out to you, but when you reach for it, he keeps it just out of your reach, a playful challenge.

“Oh, I see,” you say, trying to swipe it from him, but he pulls back, chuckling.

In the end, you stop reaching. You pause, crossing your arms, your heart racing. “Okay,” you say finally, surprising yourself with your willingness. “One date.”

His eyes light up with delight, and the earlier hesitation fades. “So, are you going to let me kiss you after the date?” you ask, half-joking, remembering how he held back after the party.

He gets serious for a second, then breaks into a big smile. “You can kiss me right now if you want!”

You laugh nervously, hyper-aware of the sweat on your skin. “I don’t know… I feel kind of gross right now.”

He shrugs, totally unfazed. “I really don’t mind at all.”

The sincerity in his voice cuts through your self-consciousness, and before you can second-guess yourself, you step forward and press your lips to his.

The kiss is sweet and a little messy, but honestly? It’s everything you didn’t even know you needed. It’s like a light switch flipped on, sparking something deep inside you. For that moment, the whole world outside the court just fades away. His lips are soft, and there’s this warmth spreading through you, making you forget all about the awkwardness from just a second ago.

When you pull back, you’re both breathless, caught in the moment, and the connection is still buzzing between you. His eyes are wide, like he can’t believe what just happened, and it’s kind of adorable watching him process it all. You can’t help but smile back at him. Seeing him distracted, you reach for the tennis ball in his hand. “See you on our one date, then.”

He just stares as you walk away, surprise and delight flickering across his face. “Hey, you can’t just run off with that!”

You laugh and give him a cheeky wave over your shoulder as you head off.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #football fanfic #pedri x you #pedri x reader #football imagine #brightlightwrites

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thefallennightmare · 9 months ago

Text

Just Pretend-Twenty Four

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: Did y'all bring your umbrellas and washcloths? Cause it gets a bit messy in this.

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

🪽🔮

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses @iamamatus

NOAH

“So are you saying there’s a new Bad Omens music video on the horizon?”

With a trick smile, I adjusted my position in the chair and shrugged to the camera on my computer. “Uh, yeah. I can’t tell you which one but it’ll be out there soon.”

The group of people who were interviewing me via Zoom cheered until one of them asked the next question. It went like this for a few more minutes and I did my best to pay attention and not reach for my phone. Tonight was important and even with how poised and professional I looked during the interview, my knee was bouncing under my desk with nerves. Everything had been planned down to the last detail, Michael giving me shit for stressing out about nothing.

“It’s Y/N, you know she’d be fine with just an easel and new paints,” he chuckled while watching me set up Y/N’s studio.

I paused setting up the plants on a shelf to turn towards him. “I know. But she deserves this; all of this. She needs a place to escape by herself for a little while.”

“You have to relax,” Michael rested his hands on my shoulders, looking directly into my eyes. “You need to enjoy the new beginnings of your relationship. You and Y/N love each other, that’s what matters. Not how many plants she has.”

Shaking my head from the earlier memory, I hummed towards the interviewer. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

She chuckled. “We’ve seen some growth vocally on this new record from the last. Can you give us a little insight on that?”

With a nod, I divulged how I recently started working with a vocal coach who helped bring out this side of me that I had always hidden under a veil of self-doubt and insecurities.

Suddenly my phone buzzed on the desk and I quickly peered down at it, my heart jumping into my throat.

Angel 🪽: I’m walking out of therapy right now, I’ll be home and ready to go in an hour!

While the interviewers chatted amongst themselves briefly, I typed out a fast response before taking a long drink of my coffee.

Me: No rush, angel. We have all night. I should be finishing up this interview soon.

Another question and another answer. It went on like this for a few minutes until I noticed another text from Y/N.

Angel 🪽: You already got coffee?🥺

My heart dropped when I saw that emoji because I could vividly picture her soft lips in a pout just like it. Her bright eyes wide.

Me: Don’t do that, you know I can’t resist that face you pull. Jolly brought it from Fika. Astrid made an extra by mistake. We can swing by and get you one.

Thankfully, my hands were just off camera so no one who was watching would be able to see my texting.

Wait.

Me: Wait, are you watching? You little sneak.

Deciding to give my attention back to the interview, I finished it within the next thirty minutes and thanked them with a wide smile before clicking out of Zoom. Standing up from the desk in the studio, I read Y/N’s message as I trotted down the stairs toward my bedroom.

Angel 🪽: Of course, I’m watching. I watch all of your interviews. I also love teasing you. I already stopped by Fika after therapy. I will say that I’m excited about what you have planned for later.

Veering left instead of right, I stepped inside Y/N’s art studio and stood in the middle of the room, assessing every inch of it to make sure it was absolutely perfect. The memory of earlier today stumbling inside with both arms full of bags that contained a variety of different paint and drawing supplies. The guys merely smirked as they saw me struggling even having a bag hanging from my teeth before I motioned to the outside with my head and mumbled two words.

Help. Car.

The studio was perfect and spotless when I made sure that everything was where it needed to be. As I headed across the hall into my bedroom to finish getting ready, I sent a text to Y/N; one she responded to almost immediately.

Me: I can’t wait. I love you.

Angel 🪽: I love you too, mochi.

READER

“Oh my god, I’m stuffed. I can’t eat another bite,” I groaned while stepping out of Noah’s car as he held the door open for me.

“Greek was a good choice, huh?” He chuckled as he walked around the car towards me; a little bell jingling behind him.

I looped my arm through his and rested my head against his shoulder. “You know I’d never turn down a chance for Greek food.”

“I never thought I’d be such a fan of it. I’ve always thought it was just gyros. The spinakorprita was good.”

I stifled my laugh into his bicep. “It’s spanakopita.”

“Spa-na-ko-pi-ta.”

Noah sounded out slowly and I kissed his shoulder. “Good job! Pretty soon I’ll have you fluent in Greek and we can visit Greece.”

He brushed a kiss along my forehead and I peered down at the feline that rubbed his face along Noah’s leg.

“Are you sure he’s okay on the harness?” I bit my lip. “He can’t slip out of it?”

“Salem is fine, angel. He loves this thing. You should have seen him running through the grass when I had him a couple of months ago.”

To reassure me worries, however, Noah picked up Salem to hold him against his chest, our cat purring loudly as I pressed a kiss on his head.

“Thank you for letting me bring him. I figured it would be good to get him acclimated here in case you have to watch him for me,” I said as we began walking up towards the house.

“I’ve been wanting to show him the new cat tree I bought him,” Noah smiled.

When we came to a stop at his front door I untangled myself from him and then reached inside my purse for my camera.

“Angel,” he started.

Waving him off, I backed away a few feet and motioned to him to stay there. “Just one picture in front of the house. You look so cute tonight. Plus, I need a picture of my boys.”

Even with the dim street light but the bright glow of the moon, I saw the red hue cover Noah’s cheeks with my compliment, and eventually, threw up his trademark peace sign with one hand and continued to hold Salem in the other.

Snapping a few different poses, I pocketed the Polaroids after they printed and skipped back toward Noah, who had opened the front door and allowed me to step inside the quiet house.

“Where is everyone?” I wondered.

Noah hung up his keys on the hook next to the front door. “Movies. The local theater is playing the old Japanese version of Godzilla.”

“You turned that down?” I asked with wide eyes. “You love old Japanese movies.”

“No place I’d rather be than right here, with you,” he mused while wrapping his arms around me to place a chaste kiss on my lips.

“How sweet,” I cooed while patting his chest.

Noah let Salem off the harness so he could explore the house, he immediately found the cat tree and curled up in the top bed part.

Something was bothering Noah, however, no matter how bright he smiled. I could sense it in the way he kept fidgeting with his hands during dinner to how often he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel on the way back to his house.

“What’s on your mind?” I questioned while palming his cheek.

He left a kiss on the inside of my palm. “I want to show you something.”

“You do?” My heart fluttered.

Linking our fingers together, Noah led me down the hallway towards his room, but we veered left instead to stop in front of a closed door. With our hands on his chest, I felt the rapid beat of his heart and let out a low laugh.

“Mochi, your heart is racing,” I said.

He nodded. “I’ve been working on something the last few months since I’ve moved in trying to make it perfect. I think I’ve annoyed both my roommates and yours.”

“Chase and Malcolm know about this?” I questioned.

“Yeah. They sent me some of the products you use, your favorite brands; things like that. I wanted to make sure that you don’t have to worry about lugging things back and forth,” Noah shifted on his feet.

“Okay, what is it?” I bounced on my heels with excitement. “You’ve already surprised me with the vanity. What do you have hiding behind that door?

I gasped. “Is it a puppy?! No, wait. That wouldn’t make sense.”

Noah chuckled while cupping my face to leave a kiss on my forehead. “No puppy. Maybe down the road.”

“Well, will you show me already? I’m getting antsy!” I patted his chest before messing with his chain between my fingers.

I still wore my matching set, never taking them off.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered.

With a pout, I tried to get out of doing it but instead, Noah covered my vision with his large hand. Feeling his presence behind me, I heard the door click open and he led me inside the room. The hand over my eyes shook so I grazed my fingers over the back of it, letting him know that he didn’t have to be nervous.

“I want to make sure you love it, angel,” Noah pressed a kiss behind my ear. “OK. Are you ready?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed.

Blinking a few times to adjust to the light, a hand went to my mouth as a gasp fell from my lips. It was overwhelming and almost too many different things to take in, I didn’t know where to look first.

There were four different-sized easels in each corner of the room.

An angled desk in front of the large window, one that people would use to draw on.

Three shelves above that desk held various paints, brushes, and charcoals.

Plants littered almost every inch of space that wasn't overtaken with painting supplies.

The closet in the room was wide open, showcasing even more stock of supplies and different size canvases.

The best part? Hardwood floors.

With tears in my eyes, I slowly turned back to Noah, standing in the doorway with his hands behind his back.

“So?”

“I-,” I cleared my throat when the words came out jumbled. “You did this?”

“Yeah. I wanted to give you your own space here. To come too whenever you wanted, even if I wasn’t home,” he wrung his hands together.

“Really?” I choked out. “Don’t you think you should maybe check with the guys about having me come over here all the time unannounced?”

“Angel,” he took a step towards me and grabbed my hands, his thumb brushing mine. “Jesse was the one that suggested I give you a key.”

My eyes doubled. “A key?”

Noah now dug into his pocket to pull out a black key, gently setting it in my open palm. “I want you to have a place to come and stay. I’m not asking you to move completely in, but if it's getting a little stuffy in that small apartment with Chase and Malcolm, you and Salem can come to spend the night here.”

I let out a small chuckle, a few tears falling from my eyes, and then held the key close to my chest. “You gave me all of this but I have nothing in return, Noah.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and mused. “Your love is enough, Y/N.”

“I love you. Thank you for all of this.” I pressed my head against his chest while wrapping my arms around him.

“I love you too.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now, welcome to the other part of our first date.”

I gazed up at him through lashes. “We’re going to paint?”

“Now, I’m not a professional like you,” he snorted before pulling me over to two easels that were next to each other. “But I thought it would be a cute idea.”

“I would not call myself a professional.”

“Still better than me,” Noah said.

I raised a playful brow while crossing my arms over my chest. “Want to make this interesting?”

He smirked while resting his hands on my hips. “I’m all ears, angel.”

“Whoever has the worst painting has to get the winner's birthday tattooed on them.”

“Oh, it’s a bet,” he sealed it with a kiss.

Noah pulled out the little stool for me to which I sat with a smile, pulling up the ends of my yellow maxi skirt to sit comfortably. While Noah busied himself with setting up music to play from the Bluetooth speaker, I removed my jacket to set it neatly on the ground at my feet.

“Do you want an old shirt of mine to change into?” He asked while pointing to my white top.

I noticed that Noah had shed his gray button-up and was wearing a blank tank top. I licked my lips at the site of his muscles, the tattoos suddenly seeming more fitting now that he had been working out a lot more.

Remind me to thank Ash.

Snapping my eyes away from the broadness of his chest, I shook my head. “I’ll be fine, mochi. Thank you though. I don't typically make a mess.”

“Hm, the paint stains on the dining room carpet say otherwise,” he teased.

Playfully smacking Noah’s arm, we both got settled as the music filtered into the air and I got lost in my mind, painting whatever my soul called for. We found ourselves in a peaceful quiet, simply enjoying each other's presence. Every so often I would glance over to Noah, making sure that he was enjoying himself only because I knew painting wasn't for everyone.

He had narrowed eyes of precision as he stroked the brush wave after wave against the canvas. From this angle, I couldn’t see what he was painting. Instead, I leaned over to rummage in my purse, pulled out my Polaroid camera, and snapped a few shots of Noah before one of me, with him in the background. I set the pictures on the desk next to me before getting back to my painting.

“How’s it going over there?”

Noah’s soothing voice brought me out of my trance and I glanced over at him with a smile. “Good, I’m almost finished. What about you?”

“Promise you won't laugh?”

“Of course, mochi.”

I made a show of crossing my heart but let out a squeal of laughter when Noah hooked his foot around the foot of the stool and dragged me over towards him. He gave me a quick kiss but still wouldn’t let me see what he painted.

“I’ve been told I’m a great artist, granted that was in the second grade,” Noah chuckled before finally showing me his canvas and what he spent the last thirty minutes painting.

I covered my mouth with a hand not to stifle a gasp but instead a laugh. He painted stick figure versions of him, me, and Salem in front of a house; even with the bright yellow sun in the corner of the canvas.

“Wow,” I nodded. “All I’ll have to say is don’t quit your day job, mochi.”

Noah scoffed. “Fuck, that was cold. But it's true. There’s a reason why I’m a musician, not a painter. I’ll leave that to you, angel.”

“I love it!” I beamed while ruffling his hair and laying a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’ll hang it up above my bed.”

“What did you paint?” He wondered.

“Oh nothing too important, just some abstract colors. I didn’t really have an actual vision. I kind of let the paint speak to me as I go,” I said.

When I showed him my painting, Noah’s eyes glinted and he smiled. “I like it. I’ll have to hang this above my bed.”

“So I think it’s safe to say that I won the bet? And now you have to get my birthday tattooed on you,” I grinned while going about to clean up the paint and brushes.

When Noah didn’t respond, I glanced over my shoulder to see that he had a very sly smirk playing on his lips and I popped my hip out, resting a hand on it.

“Noah Sebastian. Did you purposely lose this bet so you could get my birthday tattooed?”

He hummed along to the song playing on the speaker, still not answering my question but never getting rid of that smirk on his face. His silence, however, was exactly the answer I needed.

What a cheeky little...

With the dirty paintbrush in my hand, I flicked it over at Noah, the leftover paint spraying over his chest when he turned towards me. His eyes bounced down to the paint splatter over his black tank top to me, a shocked expression on his face.

“Did you just throw paint on me?”

I shrugged. “Oops?”

“Really? Oops?” Noah dipped a larger paintbrush into a handful of different colors before throwing it all over my face and neck.

“NOAH!” I screeched with a boisterous laugh.

Suddenly, he picked me up to twirl me in the air before tackling me onto the ground then started painting my arms and neck as I found underneath him.

“I’m sorry!” I giggled while trying to reach for the paintbrush I dropped; fingertips grasping at it.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m busy painting a masterpiece,” Noah responded, painting shapes on my cheek now.

With my fingers finally grasping the brush, I flicked some paint into his hair, covering it in bright pinks, blues, and yellows. Our peals of laughter overpowered the music still playing in the room and eventually, after we both were covered in pain, I threw up my hands in surrender.

“OK!” I chuckled breathlessly. “You win. You win.”

Noah kissed me, smearing the paint over my lips. “Damn straight I do.”

Somehow in the shuffle of our paint fight, I managed to straddle Noah, who lost his tank top; it was destroyed due to all the paint. So he lay shirtless underneath me and I couldn’t help but bite my lip at the sight of him with his arm propping his head up and his tattoos on full display for only me to devour.

Reaching up towards my easel, I grabbed a few different paints and clean brushes before settling back on Noah’s hips, getting to work on painting the flowers of his chest piece.

He hummed at the feeling of the cool brush and let his eyes flutter shut for a long moment, reveling in the feeling of me on top of him. And not in a sexual way but in a way of knowing that I was here and not going anywhere.

“Am I an adult coloring book for you?” Noah questioned after he took a few Polaroid pictures of me painting him.

“Maybe,” I teased with a glance down at his face.

His chest was a vibrant picture of greens, reds, and oranges. I was working on painting the headband in the girl's hair when he spoke again.

“Well don’t stop, I like this form of meditation.”

Once the round frame was painted gold, I adjusted my position so I could sign my name just above the words across his sternum.

Noah opened one eye and smiled. “I see you signed your work.”

“I did because you’re not it anymore.” I pressed a soft kiss along each letter.

“I’m not what?” He breathed in pleasure, slightly arching off the ground.

“You’re no longer desolate,” I promised into his skin then took a couple of Polaroid pictures of my masterpiece.

Noah let out a soft noise from the back of his throat when his strong hand wrapped around the back of my neck to pull me down to his lips, we met in a fiery, air-bending kiss. Every single fiber of my soul blazed with such passion I melted into his embrace, folding into him as we became one. His tongue brushed along my bottom lip, lapping up the strawberry chapstick I applied in the car earlier, him humming in delight.

I adjusted myself as I lay flat on Noah, his hands running up and down the skin of my back underneath my shirt. The heat radiated off of him making my insides flare with so much desire that I was practically burning up at his touch.

“Noah,” I whined when his lips began attacking my neck.

When he pulled away, his almond eyes gazed up at me with pupils blown wide with lust; pure black over taking his eyes.

“How about I run you a bath?” His thumb brushed along my bottom lip, voice hoarse from our kiss.

“I’d like that a lot,” I beamed.

NOAH

I sat on the edge of the tub to check the temperature of the water making sure it was perfect before adding the bubbles and bath salts. As it began to fill up, I peered through the open bathroom door to gaze over at Y/N who was sitting at her vanity taking off her makeup. My heart swelled in my chest when I noticed how relaxed she was, as if she was meant to be there; here with me.

Sitting here in observation, it struck me like a bolt of lightning. I’d been so lost in constructing scenarios for tonight that I was surprised to see how far I’d come. Y/N’s movements were so fluid, so serene as she gently wiped everything off her face and neck. I’d never been so jealous of a makeup towelette before.

Observing her using the vanity table I fussed over for weeks made my stomach flutter, the ongoing moment of quiet bliss was by far my favorite way to let time tick by.

Waiting here offers me time to let my mind escape the boundaries of the ordinary. From where I sat here in the bathroom, watching her carefully with the faintest of smiles, I knew I wanted this view for the rest of my life. After all the bullshit endured on and off over the years, for both of us, this was what I got to see.

Watching Y/N was such a gift, a blessing of time. Something I vowed right now that I wouldn’t take for granted.

Shaking off the excess water after checking the temp, I turned off the tub and walked into the bedroom with a light spring in my step. I snuck up behind Y/N and rested my chin on top of her head, watching her smile in the reflection of the mirror.

“Your bath is ready, angel,” I informed.

She reached for my left hand to lay a gentle kiss on the floral design. “You mean, our bath is ready.”

I raised a brow at her when she stood and led me into the bathroom with her.

“Wait, what?”

Y/N chuckled at the slight confusion in my voice. “You heard me. You’re covered in paint too, Noah. You need to clean up.”

I rubbed the back of my neck as we stood together in the bathroom. “I was-uh- going to take a shower once you were finished. I don’t want to pressure you into-.”

“Stop overthinking this,” she cupped both sides of my face and pressed a kiss to my nose. “I want you to join me if you’re comfortable with it.”

I may have nodded a little too eagerly but it didn't bother her.

“I’d love that, angel.”

While she shed her clothes, I stepped out of my pants and briefs, both of us watching each other with such inferno in our eyes and when we were naked, Y/N reached for my hand. She stepped into the tub first then me, positioning myself behind her. Even though it was a larger tub, it was still a snug fit for the both of us so to make sure she had enough room, I kept my long legs bent; my knees breaking the surface of the water.

“Oh this is perfect,” Y/N groaned while leaning herself into my chest.

Reaching for her shampoo, I went to work scrubbing the paint out of her hair, my nails scraping along her scalp. Her fingers traced over the rose tattoo on my knee, delicately following the design.

“What’s on your mind, angel?” I questioned after rinsing out her hair and then applying the conditioner.

“You’ve really thought about everything, huh? You have all of my products here so I don’t ever have to bring a bag over?”

The giggle that erupted from her throat made something twinge inside of me.

I kissed her shoulder. “I’ve already told you. This is your home just as much as your apartment is. We can bounce back and forth as long as you want.”

Once she was completely clean of the dried paint, Y/N turned to position herself on my lap to face me. The head of my cock brushed along her folds and I grasped at her hips, trying not to let my hormones push her too far.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She smiled and reached for my shampoo. “You washed me. Let me wash you now.”

Sighing in content, I sat back against the tub to let Y/N wash my hair. Her fingers worked meticulously in scrubbing out the paint.

“You know,” she shifted herself on me and I choked on a groan.

Surely she had to know what she was doing.

“While I love how you look with this new haircut. I really do miss your long hair.”

I gazed up at her, tracing the drop of water that trailed down her neck, over the silver chain, and between the valley of her breasts that were just peeking above the bubbles.

I licked my lips, tongue begging to trace the water in its wake, but refrained.

“Imagine if you gave yourself bangs. You’d be in your Shelby era,” Y/N chucked while moving my hair in a certain way so I could have bangs.

I glanced over to the mirror above the sink and smirked at the sight of us in the tub, especially me with bangs.

“You think so?” I asked.

“You can pull off any look, mochi.”

She gently went about washing the paint off my chest with the loofah while I continued to watch her.

“You’re staring,” her eyes flicked up at me.

“I love you,” I brushed away the wet strands of hair from her face.

“I love you too,” Y/N kissed the freckles on my shoulder.

Once again we found ourselves in our previous position, her back to my chest, and we sat there for some time as the water began to chill. Although neither of us was ready to get out yet.

“Noah?”

Snapping my eyes open, I wrapped my arms around her. “Yeah?”

Y/N shifted a bit in my embrace and with how she was wading her fingers through the water, I knew something heavy was on her mind.

“Do you think we could listen to Bad Decisions?”

My body stilled behind her. I knew at some point we would have to talk about the songs I wrote when I was in the dark parts of my life but it still didn't prepare me for the moment it happened.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

She turned slightly in my arms to leave an array of kisses on my chest.

“I know you were in a dark place when you wrote it. It holds bad memories so I’d like to create new memories for this song with you if you want to.”

“I’d want nothing more, Y/N,” I whispered into her hairline.

After asking the Alexa device on the bathroom counter to play the song, I let my voice echo in the confines of the room. Y/N eased into my embrace as I linked our fingers together while I sang along with the words in a hushed tone. She hummed along with me as our bodies swayed together in the water.

“No God. No religion. Just you,” I vowed when the song faded out, cupping her cheek so I could kiss her lips.

Without missing a beat, Y/N returned the kiss just as slowly as I, our tongues lazily fighting for dominance as her hand snaked behind my neck to play with the wet strands of hair.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled against my lips.

Pulling away, I remained holding her face but furrowed my brows. “What are you apologizing for?”

Her gaze left mine. “I just hate that it took us so long to get here. I know we talked about everything at the party but I still feel the need to apologize for everything.”

“It’s not all on you, angel. I did some things I wasn’t proud of during our time apart and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it.”

“Stop, Noah,” Y/N straddled me again to hold my chin with a stern grasp, the water sloshing around us. “You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened. I’ve already told you all is forgiven. Please stop letting that moment of weakness eat away at you.”

I blinked away the burning tears in my eyes and cleared my throat. “I only want to make better memories with you. I know in the beginning I couldn’t communicate, even now it’s a bit hard for me, especially with everything that happened. It was a mess and I apologize too.”

Y/N bent low to kiss me; it was slow at first but soon became heavy with passion when her tongue slipped between my lips. Her hips began grinding against my cock revving me up with such force, I wrapped my hand around her neck with my thumb against the pulse point in her neck.

Breaking free from the kiss, I dragged my teeth along her jawline and then down her neck.

“Noah,” Y/N breathed. “I love you.”

Her pussy was now brushing over the head of my cock and every inhibition with me wanted to plunge myself deep inside of her, feel her grip me with that vice grip I’ve missed and longed for.

Something inside of my chest rumbled before I realized it was my voice.

“How many have you loved before me?” I rasped as my tongue brushed over her nipple.

Y/N arched herself back so she could fully expose herself to me. “None.”

With one hand holding her throat, my other slipped between our bodies underneath the now-freezing water to glide over the slit between her legs. I attacked her lips again with a ravenous desire, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“And after me?” I demanded to know, slipping a finger inside of her finally.

“None,” she moaned while digging her nails into the skin of my shoulders.

Trembling fingers trace Y/N’s skin. To be in her company is a little slice of heaven as if her aura were an elixir. Emotions swam in our eyes, in our body language, and the inflections of her voice.

She was the one who I thought of when I needed to restart my heart and rekindle my soul; for so long I kept that to myself. Feeling the intensity of her intelligence, Y/N’s words were my medicine.

Deep inside I couldn’t help but feel like I’ve over-explained my feelings to compensate for what hadn’t been said. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t shake the fear of losing her. She needed to know where I stood, where we belonged.

Soulmates.

To be a possessor? I don’t know if you’d call it that. I yearned to be her protector, the one who held her heart in my hands, just as she held mine. These large hands are secured. I would grant her any wish in my power, to be the one who will always love her.

My fingers worked in sync as I pumped them in and out of her. She squirmed in my grasp, and the head of my cock nearly slipped inside of her. Every single part of me was sensitive to her touch and it felt like any moment I would combust underneath her.

Peering up at her face, I noticed that there was worry pulling tight in her forehead.

“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” I asked briefly, stopping.

“No, you’re fine,” Y/N reassured me with a kiss on my forehead. “It’s just-.”

When her words trailed off, I lifted her chin with a knuckle. “Talk to me, angel.”

Her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “The water is really cold and I was hoping we could move this to the bed.”

A playful smirk pulled on my lips and just before agreeing, I was struck with a thought.

“How far do we want to take this?”

“Noah, I can’t wait anymore. I need this. I need to feel connected to you again,” she rubbed herself against me.

Shit.

Even though I was ready for this, something was keeping me from lifting her out of this tub and tossing her on the bed to feel all of her again. The last time we slept together, it ended in disaster and heartbreak. I was stronger than I was back then but I don’t know if I could recover if it were to happen again.

It won’t.

It was as if Y/N’s soul could feel the pain in mine because she cupped both sides of my face so I had no choice but to meet her gaze.

“I’m not going anywhere, Noah. I’m right here. Always.” She reassured me with a firm nod, not an ounce of lies behind her bright eyes.

I kissed her palm. “I know. Are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush.”

“You’re not, Noah. I want this. I need this. I need to be connected to you so deeply, that it feels like we’ll never be apart again.”

Her hand wrapped around my cock, pumping it up and down under the chilled water. By now the bubbles have dissipated and I peered through the clear water to choke on my moan.

“We won’t,” I promised.

Y/N’s warm breath fanned over the shell of my ear. “Please, Noah. I need you to fuck me.”

READER

I erupted with laughter as Noah dropped my wet body on top of the bed. Resting up on my elbows, I gazed over his naked form as he stood at the foot of the bed. Water traced every bend and groove of his muscles and the tattoos that littered his skin were something that seemed to surprise me each time.

When my gaze lowered to his cock, a starved moan fell from my lips and I licked them hungrily.

“Y/N?”

I hummed while tearing my gaze away from him to look into his eyes.

“If you feel any pain, please let me know,” he said.

“I’m okay,” I nodded. “I promise.”

Noah towered over me as he crawled up the bed, droplets of water falling from his hair onto my chest. His chain hung just above my lips as I looked up at him, spreading my legs when his fingers tickled the inside of my thigh.

“I want to make love to you tonight, angel. Will you let me?” He asked into the crook of my neck.

“Please,” I nodded vigorously.

Once more, Noah’s fingers slipped between my folds to gently tease me, slowly dragging them up and down. I whined in protest and dug my nails into his back, feeling his muscles tense from my touch. When the pad of his calloused finger pressed against my clit, I arched my chest into his, the itch I felt from the moment we were in the tub together finally being scratched.

My knees buckled when his finger twirled in fast circles and when Noah flicked his tongue over my nipple, before slowly trailing down my stomach. The warm wetness of his tongue flicked over my nub when he replaced his fingers. His lips wrapped around my clit to suck up my arousal.

“Noah,” I hissed. “So good.”

I ran my fingers through his hair to bring his mouth closer to me as the coil in my stomach pulled tight. I’d been on edge all night, I knew I wouldn’t last long. And it was like Noah knew or understood because his tongue speared inside of me, in and out, before rubbing against my clit again.

Stars danced at the edge of my vision, nearly overtaking my gaze when I looked down at Noah between my legs. His face was buried there as if he was meant to be there. I brushed away the hair from his face just for his eyes to meet mine, his tongue darting in and out of me. There was pure darkness in his eyes when his hand ran up my stomach and torso to grasp at the silver chain around my neck. He wrapped it around his fingers, pulling taunt, and I felt the breath leave my lungs briefly. Before I could say anything, Noah loosened the grip but still held onto the chain.

I raised my hips off the bed to try and get closer to his mouth when his tongue began to slow, fearing that maybe he was getting tired. But I was so close that my body ached with the release it so desperately needed.

With a tight hold against the back of his head, I tensed my legs and core when he flattened his tongue. Now I rubbed myself against his tongue and my moans echoed throughout the room. I couldn’t even warn him that I was about to cum because my orgasm washed over me without warning. Noah hummed in delight when my arousal coated his lips and chin; it dripped from him and he gathered it up with a finger before sucking it clean himself.

“Fuck,” I panted while running a hand through my hair. “That was-fuck.”

“Watching you cum is addicting, angel,” Noah buzzed with a tender kiss inside of my thigh.

As my heart rate slowed, I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and let out a deep breath in a way to center myself again.

“Missionary hurts right?” Noah asked while leaning over me.

“It depends,” I shrugged. “But if I’m being honest, it’s not my favorite.”

The smirk that pulled on his lips made me tilt my head at him. However, before I could ask what he had in mind, he swiftly turned me to lay on my stomach and raised my ass in the air.

“Noah,” I breathed while peering over my shoulder at him.

Not saying anything, he leaned over towards the nightstand to rummage through it and retrieved a condom. Lust-filled eyes watched as he ripped it open with his teeth and swiftly rolled it over the length of his cock, which was thick and dripping with his arousal.

“Stay on your knees but if you need to lay your lower half on the bed, do it. I want to make sure you're comfortable,” a gentle kiss in the middle of my back; against the snake tattooed there.

I positioned a pillow underneath me to give myself some more leverage and comfort while Noah lined his cock up with my entrance. Slowly, much to my dismay, Noah sank himself inside of me inch by inch until he was fully seated inside of me.

“Shit,” his forehead rested against my shoulder blade. “So tight. I’ve been dreaming of this feeling again, angel.”

“Me too. Oh fuck.”

I moaned when Noah pulled himself almost out, pumping just the head of his cock in between my folds. Then with a snap of his hips, his cock stretched me open again and the weight of his body pressed me farther into the pillow. His chest collided with my back every time he thrust into me and his nails dug into my hips to keep himself grounded. For extra measure, I managed to hook my feet around his ankles.

“I love you,” Noah panted in my ear.

My smile was buried in the pillow. “I love you too.”

“Any pain?”

I did my best to shake my head. “Keep going. Please.”

One hand caressed the grooves of my spine, up and down, while his other wandered around to thrum against my clit again. Noah’s pace was slow but steady, his words from earlier ringing true.

I want to make love to you.

I brushed away the hair from my face so I was able to see, noticing our reflection in the large mirror Noah had leaning against the wall next to the closet. A strangled moan crawled out of my throat when I saw the muscles in Noah’s ass clench with every drive into me. I could vividly see his cock every time he pulled out of me, my arousal glistening on the condom, before disappearing inside of me again.

“I.”

Thrust.

“Love.”

Thrust.

“You.”

I mewled at Noah’s proclamation in between each of his thrusts. “I love you too, Noah.”

The slow pace of his cock but the fast pace of his fingers worked in perfect harmony and I felt my second orgasm slowly creeping its way into my veins. The heat spread like wildfire inside of me with such intensity I began to shake underneath Noah.

“I love you, angel,” he proclaimed again then bit down on the sensitive part of the skin at the back of my neck.

I was gone, blissed out in sheer ecstasy that my words were muffled against the pillow. That wasn’t good enough for Noah so he turned my cheek so I could face him.

“I love you too,” I huffed when my orgasm was seconds away from bursting.

He linked our hands together as he continued to meld with me from behind and I noticed that the hands that were linked were the ones that both had our bracelets. It was almost a good omen, no pun intended, that our souls were always destined to be one. For added measure, I felt the coolness of his necklace brush along the heated skin of my back.

Noah lightly laughed, almost as if he thought the same, and when his cock twitched inside of me, I realized he was close. I wanted to watch him when he fell apart because of me so I glanced back over to our reflection in the mirror. Then with two fingers pressed against my clit, Noah began rubbing up and down which was exactly what I needed for the coil to snap. To finally teeter over the edge where ecstasy was waiting for me.

His name fell from my lips in prayer.

“Fuck, Noah. Oh God, it’s so good,” I cried out through the rest of my orgasm.

“No God. Just us,” he grunted.

There was no God; only him and I.

In the reflection, I watched as his movement stilled, cock throbbing between my walls, and his mouth fell open when he tilted his head back; groaning out his release. Then softly, Noah’s body fell onto mine and he buried his face in my neck.

“Are you okay?” He wondered.

“I’m good, mochi. So fucking good,” I lazily smiled but whimpered when he pulled out of me.

“Let me get you a washcloth,” he left a kiss on my shoulder before slipping into the bathroom.

I snuggled closer into the pillow on my chest to let my eyes rest for a moment. Exhaustion dug itself so deep within my bones that I didn’t even notice when Noah began cleaning me up with the damp but warm cloth then he draped the blanket over my naked form.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed or noticed he left until the bed dipped beside me and I opened one eye to stare up at him. Noah kissed me from between my shoulder blades down my back, his nails grazing beyond the wake of his lips as he traced over the large snake tattoo on my back.

“This sight is familiar,” Noah spoke quietly.

I propped my chin on my hand. “But I’m not going anywhere after. I’m not leaving you to deal with my inconsiderate decisions. I’m right here with you, Noah.”

“I know,” he nodded. “We’re creating new memories now. Righting all of those wrongs. I’ve been excited for both of us to leave the past and move forward.”

“Me too,” I left a chaste kiss on his chin, feeling the slight stubble tickle my lips.

Noah tucked a piece of hair behind my ear then began tracing the line of my cheekbone, and jaw, then booped my nose, earning a giggle from me.

“I brought you some clothes in case you want to get dressed,” he said while handing me a pair of black joggers and a matching shirt.

I took them with a smile. “I think I should start keeping some clothes here.”

“Plenty of space in the closet,” Noah threw a thumb over his shoulder.

My heart fluttered at his words, realizing yet again that Noah was allowing me to occupy parts of his private sanctions.

“I’ll clear out two of my dresser drawers for your stuff the next time you’re over,” I promised with a kiss on his lips.

He hummed while grasping the back of my head to keep me there for a second longer.

“It’s a deal, angel.”

Slipping out of the bed, I trotted into the bathroom to get dressed while I heard Noah open his bedroom door and rummaging in the kitchen. When I hopped back into his bed, Salem came bounding into the room with the bell on his collar jingling.

“Hi baby,” I cooed when he jumped up on the bed. “So, what do you think of the cat tree dad bought you? You like it?”

His response? Curling up on Noah’s pillow with a chirp of approval.

“I’m gone not even five minutes and he steals my spot,” Noah chuckled entering the room again; dressed in nothing but a pair of black Bad Omens joggers and bright yellow socks.

“Get used to it. You invited him over and now what’s yours is his,” I scratched between Salem’s ears.

“I’ll gladly share with him,” he said while handing me a plate.

My eyes lit up as a gasp fell from my lips. “Is that limoncello tiramisù?”

“Yeah, I picked some up from that Italian bakery you love. Carlos’.”

“Yes!” I exclaimed while quickly digging into the treat.

As I leaned against the headboard to eat, Noah sat cross-legged in front of me to eat his share, both of us basking in the silence; beside Salem’s purring.

“Are we a family now?” Noah asked.

With a bright smile, I leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek. “Yeah. We are.”

I set both of our empty plates on the end table next to Noah’s bed then pulled my knees to my chest.

“You know what I’d love right now?” I asked.

Noah winked which caused me to playfully smack his chest. “Not that.”

“OK, sorry. What would you love?” He chuckled while rubbing his chest.

“I’d love to listen to The Grey. I’ve been dying to know how you worked in my poem ever since you sent me that video.”

“Alexa, play The Grey by Bad Omens,” Noah said with a smile.

“Now playing The Grey by the band Bad Omens.”

When Noah’s voice finally broke through the music, I let out a small gasp. It was different, new, hearing this voice come from the man in front of me. It made me proud to see how far he’d come from Finding God Before God Finds Me, knowing what his work ethic was like. He was always trying to break down the typical stereotype of what rock should sound like. He wanted to make changes and from this song alone, Noah was doing that.

Gave you way too many chances, you ran through 'em all. Got everything I could want, but it wasn't enough. Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call. Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.”

My eyes lit up. “Oh, this was from the video!”

Noah giggled. “Yep.”

I continued to listen to the song when he linked our hands together, bringing them to his lips to leave a kiss on each of my fingers.

“I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down, and I'll never be the same. I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.”

“Noah,” I beamed. “This is amazing. The lyrics, your voice, the beat. Everything about it.”

A red hue crossed his cheeks as he sheepishly glanced down at his lap where our intertwined hands were.

“Do you like it?” He gazed up at me through his long lashes.

Rising to my knees, I now draped my arms around his neck and kissed his forehead, nose, both cheeks and then finally his lips.

“I love it, Noah. And I love you.”

He twirled my necklace between two of his fingers. “I love you too, Y/N.”

For the first time since we rekindled our love, it was then that I noticed the tattoo on the side of his hand.

K.E.A.T.O.N.

When Noah realized I was reading the letters, he held up his other hand so I could read the letters on that hand.

P.I.E.R.C.E.

“Noah,” I breathed while putting his hands against my chest.

“I needed to. He needs to know that he can sing his songs through me while he’s gone,” he explained with a lone tear slipping down his cheek.

“I know.” I kissed his hands. “It’s okay.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I took notice of the time and frowned. Earlier, Noah mentioned that tomorrow, well technically later today since it was already nearly two in the morning, Bad Omens were shooting the music video for The Death of Peace of Mind and he needed to be up early for it.

In six hours.

“I should probably get home,” I sighed.

Noah’s hold against my hips tightened. “You can stay. I’ll sleep better if you’re next to me.”

“You need your rest, mochi,” I patted his cheek. “I also have plans with Astrid to help her open up Fika then we’re going shopping right after.”

Reluctantly with a sigh, Noah agreed and let me go, not before leaving a kiss on my forehead.

“Salem is staying here tonight though,” he said.

My jaw dropped as I stood from the bed and placed my hands on my hips. “Excuse me?”

“Look at him,” Noah pointed to a sleeping Salem. “You can’t wake him.”

“Fine,” I dragged out the word with narrowed eyes. “Tomorrow night. My place.”

Noah towered over me when he stood to full length in front of me. “I’ll be there, angel.”

NOAH

Stuffing my hands deep into the pocket of my yellow hoodie, I let my black slides drag my feet behind Y/N as we walked closer to her apartment door. The chill midnight air breezed through the loose strands of hair but I was too far gone in my mind to brush it away. Even though we promised to see each other tomorrow, making plans for me to spend the night here tomorrow night, part of me was worried. Afraid that once we parted ways, Y/N would second guess everything that happened and ignore me for months on end.

Why was I so nervous?

I kept asking myself that as we came to a stop in front of her door. I shook at the thought that what I was doing in all aspects of my life mattered. I felt the need to get it right; especially with Y/N.

Dr. Poulos once said “Nerves are a signal of truth, of what you value, of what you need and cherish. The constant needs of what I’ve wanted, the comfort and stability I desired. That the idea of not gaining happiness brings on those telltale tremors. Always ask yourself what the nerves are telling you. It’s an important way your body speaks.”

She wasn’t wrong. I knew in the back of my mind that I was terrified Y/N would never come back.

What if I wasn’t good for her?

I desperately needed to fight these demons and not let them win.

Y/N loves me. She loves me.

“Mochi, you’re shaking.”

Snapping out of my thoughts, I noticed that Y/N had wrapped her arms around my midsection to pull me closer to her.

“Oh, I am? Didn’t notice,” I mumbled under my breath.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned.

“Angel, let it go. It’s nothing.”

Part of me wanted to remove her grasp from me; the part that was used to shrinking away from my problems. But the other part of me that wanted to be a good man for her made me cup the back of her neck instead.

“Talk to me,” she quietly begged.

However, I remained silent; the words weighed heavy on my tongue.

“Noah-.”

“I don't want you to leave,” I blurted out.

Y/N’s eyes softened. “Noah, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No. I-I don’t know. I’m-.” I ran a shaking hand through my hair. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and change your mind. I’m not perfect-.”

“Stop,” Y/N shook her head. “Don’t even say that, Noah. You know I love you. Just like I know you love me. Nothing will ever change my mind, alright? We’re both right here. We need to remain here, focus on that.”

I let out a broken breath and brushed my lips over her forehead, my hands going back to grasp behind her neck. “Please don’t leave, don’t leave me in the shape you found me.”

“Never. I will never leave you like that again,” she buried her face into my chest, breathing me in.

I rested my chin on top of her head. “I love you and I want this so bad, angel. I want you.”

“I love you, Noah. I’ll reassure you as many times as I have to,” Y/N turned her head up at me now. “But you have to trust that I won’t let you fall. I’m here with you. It’s you and me, okay?”

I blinked while letting out a calming breath. “I didn’t mean to ruin the night with my worries.”

She kissed the tip of my nose. “You didn’t. And don’t apologize for your feelings. I know what we’ve gone through has done a lot. But we’re moving past that, Noah. I’m proud of that and I’d like for you to start trusting me.”

“I do,” I promised her with a kiss. “I do trust you.”

“Good,” she rose to her tiptoes to lay another kiss on my lips, this one deeper than the last but she pulled away before I could slip my tongue in. “Take care of our baby. I’ll see you two tomorrow night.”

With a heart doubled in size and adoration in my eyes, I watched Y/N as she slinked inside her apartment, throwing a peace sign over her shoulder at me.

We’ll be okay.

NOAH

Grunting, I helped Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly maneuver the large board out of the truck and down the ramp to bring it inside the large warehouse where we had everything else almost set up. It was just before eleven a.m. and even with a second cup of coffee, the caffeine hadn’t seemed to take effect quite yet. After I dropped off Y/N at home last night, I returned to Salem, who was still curled up on my pillow when I left him, and as I lay next to him, my mind was plagued with negative thoughts I tried so hard to push away. It kept me up till almost four in the morning then four hours later, Jolly knocked on my bedroom door to wake me.

As soon as we all arrived at the warehouse, I put on my best professional face and went to work going over the original plans with Orie, making sure we all were on the same page. This was our first music video in our new era so we wanted to make sure it was perfect.

Now, as I stared up at the large board, pulling on the ends of my white shirt, I allowed my mind to wander to Y/N, wondering what she was up to right now.

Did she like the paint idea?

Was the sex good enough? It was great for me but I hoped there was no pain for her. She said there wasn’t.

It sounded like she enjoyed it.

Was I too vocal in my proclamations?

No, I know I wasn’t. Y/N returned those proclamations every time.

I ran an unsteady hand through my hair while letting out a long sigh, and staring down at my feet.

My emotions were a part of me, and in this relationship, they blended with Y/N’s. Although, there are times I had these storms inside of me, never because of her, but from previous damage; the triggers from my past. I was certain things would be okay and this self-deprecation would pass.

I desired Y/N’s presence like a madman gone awol. In those moments of a storm, I had to find my calm and center myself, typically by myself. But with Y/N, I didn’t have to do that. Like my music, she was my muse.

“Noah?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I gave a small smile to Nicholas. “Yea?”

“Are you alright? You’ve been kind of quiet all morning,” he observed while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie.

I eventually knew someone would notice my quiet demeanor. I’d only been humoring when it was dire to do so.

Fuck, I missed Y/N. The negative thoughts monster has bitten his way through the bars.

I hated that this had come out of nowhere, sinking its teeth inside of me with no abandon. Our date last night was amazing but these fucking nerves kept trying to sabotage things once again. I did my best to not allow them to.

I needed to stop worrying about last night, knowing I could change anything about what happened even though there was nothing that needed to change. Just like today, I needed to stop worrying about everything that could go wrong and focus on everything that would go right.

“You know you can talk to me,” Nicholas’ voice snapped me from my thoughts.

“I know,” I nodded curtly. “I’m fine. I just want things to go perfect today.”

He reassured me with a squeeze to my shoulder. “It will. We’ve been planning the details for months.”

I shifted all of my weight from one foot to the other, casting my gaze away from him and towards everyone who continued to work tirelessly.

“You miss Y/N?”

My eyes darted back over to Nicholas. “She texted me earlier after she helped Astrid open Fika. They’re going shopping before grabbing some late lunch. I was going to meet Y/N at her place with Salem once we were done here.”

“So let that be the light to help you through today.”

I scratched my chin and nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“Noah! Nicholas! The red lights on the masks aren't working!” Orie’s voice boomed in the vast space of the warehouse.

Motioning Nicholas along, we spent the next handful of hours directing, watching, and redoing some scenes of the music video a few times over to make sure everything went off without a hitch; the perfectionist in me. We even stopped for a few-minute break so Orie could try and throw candy into Folio’s mouth while I peeked at the few unread messages from Y/N.

Angel 🪽: I may have bought a few things I’d like to model for you later. If you’re up for it. 😉

A sudden burst of warmth spread to my cheeks, something that didn't go unnoticed by Orie, who snickered.

“Oh, there’s only one person who can get you to smile like that.”

My eyes pinned into him, a sharp look that said mind your own business. Stepping away from the group of them, I responded to Y/N’s message.

Me: I’d never turn down a show from you, angel. Can I get a hint?

Angel 🪽: It’s red. And I’m very excited for you to take it off.

Fuck.

I adjusted myself with a cough and spent the next couple of minutes texting her with a bright smile. It was nearing nightfall which meant we were close to recording the next scene of the music video.

Angel 🪽: Astrid has not stopped gushing about Jolly. It’s kind of cute though when she calls him Joakim. Did you know that she’s thinking of naming a drink after him at Fika?

I snorted while glancing up at Jolly, who was busy texting away on his phone; most likely to Astrid.

Me: I’d love to know the name of this drink.

Angel 🪽: Älskling. It means honey. She’s thinking honey, Earl orange, and pomegranate tea. Because he’s “sweet like honey.”

Angel 🪽: Noah Sebastian, don’t tell Jolly I told you because I know you can’t keep things like this to yourself.

Feigning a hurt expression, I sent her a selfie and then typed out my response.

Me: My lips are sealed. But I have to get back to work. Me and Salem should be at your place around ten. I’ll grab some food on the way.

Angel 🪽: Burgers? 🥺

Angel 🪽: Also, you gave you the right to look so fucking good, huh? I can’t wait to kiss those lips.

The way my heart jumped in my chest made it almost hard to breathe.

Me: Whatever you want, angel.

Angel 🪽: Just you. And burgers. I’ll always take a burger.

Pocketing my phone, I rounded a finger towards everyone, my voice carrying throughout the space around me.

“Alright! Let’s film this pool scene before it gets too cold for the girls.”

Two hours later, it was nearing eight in the evening and all we had left to shoot was Bad Omens part of the video. We were in the home stretch and I was practically bouncing on the soles of my feet knowing that I’d be seeing Y/N in a few more hours.

As the four of us were dressed in our outfits for the music video, I chatted quietly with Folio while fixing the collar of his jacket. He’d been busy on every break today either talking to his girlfriend or planning something.

“How are things going with her?” I questioned.

The smile that spread on his face made a faint one pull on mine, knowing that one of my best friends was happy.

“Really good. I’d love to have you guys meet her soon.”

I nodded. “Definitely.”

Folio’s eyes peered over my shoulder, a smirk now pulling on his face and he wiggled his eyebrows. Before I could ask what he was staring at, that invisible string in my chest vibrated with such vigor, that it nearly knocked me off my feet.

“Well, look at this group of handsome men!”

Spinning on my heels, I saw Y/N and Astrid walk into the warehouse with bags of food from one of our favorite diners and both of them holding onto two trays of drinks. My heart ran amok in my chest as my stomach flipped three times over at seeing Y/N wearing the yellow hoodie I wore last night when I dropped her off.

“I swung by your place to grab Salem and pack you an overnight bag so once you’re finished here, we can head straight to my place. And yes, I did steal your sweater,” she answered my thoughts.

“Yellow is your color, angel,” I mused while slowly closing the distance to her. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

Astrid walked up to Jolly, who grabbed the things from her and laid a kiss on her lips; her laughter echoing around us.

Y/N shrugged while I mimicked Jolly’s actions of taking the things from her hands.

“We know how hard all of you are working today, it’s the least we could do.”

Orie came up to grab the food and drinks from me before dispersing it to everyone.

“Thank god you’re here, Y/N. Noah’s been really bossy today.”

She placed a hand on her hip, cocking it out while narrowing her eyes at me. “Bossy, huh?”

“He’s a tyrant,” Orie chuckled before taking a bite of his burger.

I wrapped my arms around Y/N, breathing her in when I brushed my nose along her hairline. “You’re not going to turn her on your side, Orie. You’re wasting your time.”

She raised her lips to meet mine and I hummed in delight when I tasted the milkshake she must have had on the way over here. Even though Y/N was here in my arms, I still couldn’t quiet the negative frame of mind that plagued me throughout the day.

“I like this new look,” Y/N straightened out my jacket.

All I could do was nod in response and her brows creased in worry. “Are you alright?”

Linking our hands together, I pulled her through the warehouse to slip outside where I knew no one would be. We finished the pool scene a while ago and the extras had left for the night.

“Oh, a pool? Are we going skinny dipping?” Y/N teased with a wink.

I ran a hand through my already-styled hair, still not saying anything. My mind was a jumbled mess and I was afraid if I tried to speak, my words wouldn’t make sense.

“Noah, what is going on? You’re worrying me.”

Her warm hands cupped my cheeks so I had to look at her, those bright eyes pleading with worry.

“Talk to me,” Y/N breathed.

“Did you enjoy our date? Was it to your standards? Did I do alright with everything?”

The questions blurted out like word vomit.

“Of course I did, Noah!” Those eyes darted back and forth between mine. “I had a wonderful time. Did I do something to make you think otherwise?”

I clutched her sides. “No, you didn’t! I promise. I know we talked about things last night. I wanted to make sure last night was everything you wanted.”

“It was,” she adjusted the collar of my turtle neck. “I promise.”

“I felt even closer to you than I ever have before. Especially when we had sex and I just wanted reassurance,” I sighed. “That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“Mochi, I loved every second with you. I loved everything about it. I felt closer and more connected with you too. Stop fussing if I had a great time. I’d sit and watch ants crawl out of the ground if it meant I could be with you.”

Something flashed in my mind that brought a genuine smile to my face and washed away all of those worries.

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. "You'd sit and get a tattoo with me?"

I brushed away a loose strand of hair that fell from her braid behind her ear, fingers trailing against the skin of her neck.

"I'd sit and watch ants crawl out of a hole for hours if that meant I'm sitting next to you," I vowed with hooded eyes as I stared down at her lips.

I pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I take it we’re on for a second date then?”

“I’m wide open,” Y/N winked with a kiss on my cheek.

“Good,” I grinned.

“Noah! We’re ready!”

We both glanced over to the large opening of the warehouse to Nicholas who was waving us inside.

“So, you’re staying the rest of the shoot?” I asked.

Y/N beamed. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

READER

As I moved about my bedroom, tossing things into the suitcases that laid out on my bed, there was a delicate knock on my open door and Chase gave me a warm smile.

“Malcolm and Noah are at the store right now and wondering if there’s anything else you need for this weekend,” he sat down on the edge of my bed.

“No, just the list I gave them,” I said while zipping up my suitcase.

“Are you nervous?” Chase asked, playing with Salem.

“A bit, yeah,” I sighed while plopping down onto the bed next to him. “This is our first album as a three-piece. It’s completely different from our other albums so I’m afraid people won’t vibe with it.”

Chase squeezed my knee. “They will. The reviews from the singles we already released are positive.”

“I know. I’ve just been in my head a lot.”

There was a slight hesitation in Chase’s breath before he asked his next question.

“Have you talked to your parents at all?”

My heart sank with guilt and I began chipping away at my nail polish. “It’s been a few days since I talked with my dad. With everything from trying to plan the album release party and Noah, I guess I kind of forgot to call him.”

Chase wrapped an arm around me to pull me into his chest. “Your dad understands how busy you are. He’d never hold it against you.”

I snorted. “Unlike my mom. Part of me wants to call her and give her an update on my life. Because I do love her, regardless of all of her faults, but I’m just afraid that she’ll judge me; again.”

“Do whatever your heart tells you, sweets. You never know, she might surprise you.”

Both of us shared a knowing look before we burst out in a fit of laughter knowing the odds of that happening.

“But stop worrying about the small stuff, Y/N. Ethan said the house is booked, the guest list was sent out, and the caterers are paid. Everything is set, all we have to do is show up and promote the album,” Chase said as Salem lay between us.

When I nodded, he stood to his feet and placed a kiss on top of my head then slipped out of my room. Pausing packing for a moment, I reached for my phone that was charging on my nightstand and I let my finger hover over my mom's contact for a long moment, wondering if I really wanted to do this or if it was the guilt for not reaching out to her more.

Pros: she could be happy for me and even want to show up at the party.

Cons: she calls me a disappointment yet again and criticizes my choices.

“Fuck it,” I groaned then clicked on her name.

It rang twice before going straight to voicemail. I rolled my eyes, knowing that she ignored my call, but tried not to dwell on the way my stomach dropped.

“Hey mom, it’s me. How have things been? I heard you went to Greece for a few weeks to visit family. I bet that was nice, I’d love to see some pictures. Maybe we could meet up for coffee to talk?”

I ran my sweaty palms on my sweats before continuing. “I have some news. Hollow Souls new album releases this Saturday and we're throwing this party to celebrate it. I know you never were too keen on my career choice but it would mean a lot if you came. I’ll text you the details. S'agapó.”

Ending the call by saying I loved her in Greek, I hit the red button with a disappointed sigh. I knew there was a higher chance she wouldn’t answer my call rather than actually answering it. Instead of dwelling on it, I texted my dad.

Me: Can I call?

His response came almost instantly.

Dad: You never have to ask, sweetheart.

With a smile, I decided to FaceTime him instead and broke out in a large smile when his face appeared on the screen. His hair had a bit more gray than the last time and a few more wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. The glasses were practically falling off his nose but when he saw me, he pushed them up.

“There she is! Oh, I’m loving the new hair!” He beamed.

“Thanks Dad. I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while, life’s been kind of crazy,” I explained while leaning against the headboard.

My dad waved me off as he spun around in his office chair, the large and filled bookcases now his backdrop. “It’s alright, sweetheart. How have things been?”

We spent the next few minutes catching up when Noah entered my room, both hands full of bags. When I went to help him, he held up the bags higher so I couldn’t. With a playful glare at him, I turned my attention back to my dad while Noah went about emptying the bags.

“So your mom didn’t answer?”

Briefly ignoring the questioning glance from Noah, I shook my head at my dad.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s like she has this radar that goes off before I call to talk about my life. If it’s not about her, she doesn't care,” I pulled my knees up to my chest so Noah could sit down in front of me.

My dad took off his glasses to rub his eyes before putting them back on his nose. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I wish she never took her own frustrations out on you. She’s unhappy with how things ended with the divorce and she can’t seem to heal from it.”

Noah’s fingers grazed over the exposed skin of my ankle.

“All these years later and I still try to make her proud of me,” I shrugged.

“I know sweetheart. But sometimes, you have to think about yourself and make yourself proud before her. That’s what matters.”

Noah’s hand brushed away the hair from my face and I smiled up at him.

“Oh, whose hand is that?” My dad's questionable voice came from my phone. “Those are a lot of tattoos.”

With a glance at Noah, he nodded so I shifted my position for my phone to not only show me but him as well.

“I wish I could introduce you two face to face but this will have to do. Dad, this is Noah.”

Noah gave a small wave to the phone. “Hi, Mr. Y/L/N, it’s an honor to meet you.”

“Shit, even your neck is covered! That had to hurt,” my dad chuckled while rubbing his own neck. “It’s an honor to meet you as well, Noah. My daughter has told me quite a lot about you. All good things, no need to worry.”

My cheeks burned and Noah wrapped an arm around my side, pulling us closer.

“You have a wonderful daughter. I want to assure you that I love her and will take great care of her,” he vowed.

My father snorted while moving about his house now. “I knew it from the moment I saw that video of you two performing on stage together during your last tour that you loved Y/N. It was clear in the way you smiled at her.”

“Dad,” I muttered under my breath.

Noah, however, looked at me with deep affection in those almond eyes. “I think I knew it back then as well, it just took me longer to admit it.”

“Call it father’s intuition,” my dad said. “But I have to go. I’m meeting some friends for ramen.”

“Ugh,” I groaned. “I would kill for some Japanese ramen right now.”

“Well,” my father started while slipping into his jacket one-handed. “Bring Noah the next time you visit and we can all go out for some. There’s this great place next to this shop that sells some kind of Manga drawings. I don’t understand it but the kids your age seem to love it.”

“We’ll be there,” Noah promised with a kiss on the side of my head.

“Have fun at the album release party, sweetheart. I can’t wait to hear the new songs!”

We both waved at the screen before it went black, me hanging up the call.

“Your dad seems like a great guy,” Noah noted while rolling off of my bed and trotting over to my dresser.

He opened the top two drawers, rummaging around for some of his clothes.

About two weeks ago, he slowly brought some of his things over here while I did the same at his place. We’d been bouncing back and forth between the two but with how busy I’d been planning the album release party and all the finishing touches for the album, it’d been a few days since Noah and I spent the night together. So now that we were leaving tomorrow for the weekend, he decided to spend the night at my place so we could ride up to Big Bear with Chase and Malcolm.

“He is,” I rested my chin on my knees. “I really hope one day we can visit him together.”

“We will.”

Noah promised with a kiss on my head before retreating out of my room so he could shower while I finished packing all of our things, the excitement of this weekend making me dance around my bedroom.

READER

My heels clicked against the hardwood floor as I typed away on my phone, the hustle and bustle of everyone setting up for the party falling away from me.

The Power Puff Girls group chat:

Me: You guys on your way back?

Astrid: Had to stop at the store quickly! Matt texted Jolly to grab some Dr. Pepper. We picked up Maxxine about thirty minutes ago but would have been back at the house by now if Jolly wasn’t taking FOREVER in the book section. He’s trying to find some kind of new fantasy book to read this weekend.

Maxxine: It’s kind of cute watching the two of you giggle with your own inside jokes while I just stand here as a third wheel.

I let out my own chuckle as I stopped in front of the large mirror in the rental house, brushing away any lint from my white dress. The sleeves were lace and stopped right at my elbows and the bottom of my dress rested mid-thigh. I was afraid that the front may have been too low cut but Noah reassured me it was fine.

With an array of kisses between my breasts.

My phone vibrated in my hand and I read the new message.

Astrid: Oh hush you.

Me: Well, we’re very excited for you to join us, Maxxine. Bring some more females into this group of male hormones. I’d been dying to introduce you to someone!

Maxxine: No, Y/N. Please. My last date was so horrendous, I still haven’t recovered.

“Angel?”

Glancing away from my phone, I smiled at Noah as he came bounding down the stairs dressed in a black long-sleeve and almost eggshell white pants. I licked my lips at the sight of him dressed up. It wasn’t anything fancy but it still made my heart flutter.

“Have you seen my shoes? The black-.”

“The black lace-ups,” I nodded. “Yes, they’re in the closet in our room. Next to my house shoes.”

He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Thank you.”

As Noah retreated upstairs again, I turned back down to my phone.

Astrid: We promise, this guy is different!

Maxxine: I don’t know. I think I should just be single for a while. My luck with men hasn’t been the greatest. I always chose losers.

Me: Please, you’ll be thanking us for setting you up with him.

Setting my phone on the kitchen counter, I peered over to Jesse, who was setting up the drinks and snacks at the dining room table. Noah mentioned to me the other night how Jesse had been feeling quite down a lot lately due to his anxiety and had been falling into himself, closing himself off from everyone. While Jesse wouldn’t admit it, we all had an inkling feeling that seeing some of his best friends get into relationships, made him doubt himself in finding someone. We also knew how hard of a time he had in Pittsburg when Erra was there touring a few months ago, so Astrid and I decided to set him up with a mutual friend of ours and I invited her to the party tonight.

“Hey,” I slinked up beside Jesse and bumped my shoulder with his.

“Hi,” he smiled. “You look beautiful. Excited for tonight?”

“Thank you! I am. But I just wanted to let you know that there’s someone I want you to meet tonight.”

He set down the cups and raised a brow. “Why me?”

“Oh, no reason,” I shrugged before patting his chest and walking away.

“Y/N! What’s that supposed to mean!”

Giggling, I met up with Chase and Malcolm in the main living area of the house. Chase was brushing away Maclolm’s long auburn locks and I smiled at the two of them. I knew they were nervous about being open about their relationship in the beginning but now they were blossoming together and I couldn’t have been happier for them.

“How are we feeling?” I asked them to check-in.

Malcolm ran a hand down the front of his black dress shirt. “Nervous as hell.”

Chase rubbed his shoulder. “It’ll be fine, love. The support already has been incredible. It’s only going to get better.”

I wrapped my arms around both of them. “In case this album flops, I want you guys to know that I’m glad we took this chance. I love what we created.”

“It’s not going to flop,” Chase rolled his bright blue eyes but returned the hug. “Love you two, idiots.”

I pulled away from them and turned towards the front door when it opened, smiling at Astrid, Jolly, and Maxxine who walked inside. My eyes darted from Maxxine to Jesse, who froze in the middle of his tracks. He took in the sight of her; long legs, olive skin, long black hair, and bright hazel eyes.

Maxxine, who had her arms full of bags, gave a slow once over of Jesse with a blush and faint smile.

“Hi,” he cleared his throat. “Let me help you.”

“Thank you,” she allowed Jesse to take a couple of bags from her.

Astrid and I shared a proud smile.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

Noah’s deep voice sang in my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, a kiss to the side of my neck. Turning in his embrace, I pecked his lips.

“Hm, once or twice,” I wrapped my arms behind his neck.

With the soft tune of music playing in the background, our bodies began to sway lightly. When his eyes fell behind me, his brows furrowed together.

“Who’s the girl with Jesse?”

I turned slightly in his embrace to see Jesse and Maxxine laughing about something with each other. She was lightly touching his arm and the smile on his face was one that you couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard you tried.

“Oh, that’s a friend of mine and Astrid’s. Her name is Maxxine. I thought that maybe she and Jesse would hit it off,” I explained.

Noah’s lips left feather-like kisses along my forehead. “I love you.”

I grasped the front of his shirt, engulfing myself in his scent.

“I love you too. But before the party starts, I want to show you something.”

Linking our hands together, we slipped away from the group and down the hall of the rental home to the office where I already had things set up. I closed the door behind us and motioned for Noah to sit on the long sofa while I sat on the recliner chair diagonal from him. On the table was a pair of wireless headphones that were already hooked up to my phone.

“What’s this?” Noah wondered after falling onto the couch.

I handed him the headphones. “I know you’ll hear this song later but I wanted you to hear it for the first time with just the two of us. It’s an important song and it means a lot.”

My heart was drumming inside of the confines of my chest making it hard to breathe. I finished recording this song months ago and besides me, Chase, and Malcolm no one else heard it. I wanted Noah to be the first.

Once he placed the headphones over his ears, I loaded up the song on my phone and hit play. Even though I couldn’t hear the song physically, I could hear it in my mind.

I know it's warmer where you are and it's safer by your side. But right now I can't be what you want. Just give it time.

Noah’s shoulders went stiff as he flicked his eyes up at me, steepling his fingers together in his lap. I gave him a reassuring nod, urging him to continue.

And if you and I can make it through the night. And if you and I can keep our love alive, we'll fight.

Now nothing gave way on his face as he stared down at his hands, the only movement was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

We can meet in the middle. Bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight where all the stars align. Oh you and I, oh you and I, oh.

I couldn’t bear being so far from him while not knowing how he was feeling so I rose from my chair to sit on the other end of the couch next to him.

Well, it's cold when we're apart and I hate to feel this die. But you can't give me what I want. Just give it time

Noah’s eyes fluttered shut and I swore I saw all the oxygen leave his lungs, telling me I knew what part of my lyrics he just heard.

But for now we stay so far. 'Til our lonely limbs connect. I can't keep you in these arms. So I'll keep you in my mind.

My bottom lip caught between my teeth as my knee bounced with anticipation, wanting desperately to know what he thought about my song. But I didn’t want to disturb him yet.

Can we meet in the middle? Bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight. Where all the stars align. Oh you and I, oh you and I, oh.

Glancing at my phone, I realized the song ended, but Noah made no effort to take off the headphones. My lips parted to speak when I noticed a lone tear roll down his cheek.

“Noah?” I tapped his arm.

With the heat of my touch, it was as if he came alive again. Ripping off the headphones, Noah’s lips attacked mine with an inferno, making me fall back onto the couch with him on top of me. My fingers quickly found their usual place in his hair while he hooked my leg around his hips.

“Angel,” he fanned in the crook of my neck.

“Did-did you like it?” I asked.

Noah’s tongue brushed along the pulsepoint of my neck and I shivered underneath him.

“I loved it,” he breathed as his teeth scraped up along my jawline before slipping his tongue into my mouth.

We had a short fight for dominance before reluctantly I let Noah win, his hands running up and down my bare thighs. When he pulled away, I was dizzy; kiss drunk. And his eyes burned as he looked down at me.

“Are you sure?” I questioned, still filled with worry he didn’t like it.

“Y/N,” he lifted my chin with the finger that had the small heart tattooed on it. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. It was perfect.”

“Thank you,” I wrapped my legs around him to bring his body closer to mine, moaning when I felt the outline of his cock brush along my heated core.

His forehead fell onto my chest and sighed. “Do we have to go out there? Can we stay here the two of us? In our bubble.”

I lifted his head to kiss his nose. “Unfortunately, this party is partly for me so I have to show up.”

Grudgingly, Noah untangled himself from me and then helped me to my feet, fixing my dress and hair for me.

With our fingers linked together, he led me back into the main part of the house where the party was already well underway.

THIRD PERSON POV

The crowd of people kept congratulating the members of Hollow Souls for an amazing album. Everyone loved the new songs and was excited about the new direction they were headed toward. Chase and Malcolm chatted with one of the reps from the record label while Y/N was talking with someone she didn’t expect to see there.

“I can’t believe you flew all the way to Los Angeles from Vermont for this! You didn’t have to,” she smiled while wrapping her arms around the man in a hug.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Y/N,” Joe shrugged. “Where’s Noah?”

“Um, last I saw he was talking with his friend Bryan.”

She glanced around the room but broke out in a large smile when Noah slinked up beside her and left a kiss on her cheek.

“There you are. I have someone I’d like you to meet. This is Joe,” Y/N pointed between the two men.

Noah extended a hand. “Nice to officially meet you.”

“Yeah you too,” Joe shook his hand with a smile.

The three of them chatted for a long while after moving to one of the couches in the living room, Y/N watching with fondness as her boyfriend and one of her good friends got along pretty well. She even stole a glance over towards Jesse and Maxxine who were seated on the couch across from them. His arm was thrown over the top of the couch, fingers grazing over the skin of Maxxine’s shoulder. Every so often she would slink in closer towards him.

“Would you like a drink, angel?” Noah asked.

Her eyes snapped back to him and she nodded. “Dr. Pepper, please.”

Once Noah stood from the couch, Y/N opened her mouth to ask Joe how life was going when someone else sat down on the couch next to her, almost in Noah’s previous spot.

Devon? Derrick? No, his name was Dennis; a mutual acquaintance of Ethan, their manager.

“Hey, Y/N. I thought I’d sneak in to tell you how awesome the new album sounds,” he slicked back his overly gelled hair.

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.”

While she knew of him from things Ethan would say, Y/N never actually met him.

“I love the new vibe you guys have going on. It’s very different from your old albums. Although, I must say that my favorite is still your self-entitled. Trey’s vocals kick ass on that.”

Joe sat up straighter from his spot on the other side of Y/N while she narrowed her eyes at Dennis.

“Everyone has their own opinions I suppose,” she said while trying to pull down the ends of her dress when she caught Dennis staring at her legs.

“You know,” he licked his lips and moved closer to Y/N. “You’re doing really well without Trey. How about we go out for a drink?”

“No thank you, I’m not interested.”

Y/N slinked back closer to Joe, who gladly accepted it.

“One drink?” Dennis tried again with a sly smirk.

“I don’t drink,” Y/N narrowed her eyes while crossing her arms over her chest, hoping to show the guy that she was finished with this conversation.

Joe sent a look over to Malcolm, who was standing in the kitchen next to Noah, and with that shared expression, the redhead nodded.

“Noah,” Malcolm motioned behind Noah.

With a perplexed look, Noah turned around and nearly crushed the glass in his hand at what he saw. Y/N was almost in Joe’s lap, trying to get away from some douchebag who kept advancing towards her.

“What the fuck,” he grumbled under his breath, nostrils flaring.

Tonight was not the night to lose his cool but he could feel that ugly feeling burning low in his gut; the feeling he despised. He didn’t want to come off as jealous or that he couldn’t trust Y/N because he could. But Noah did not like the way this guy was almost undressing her with his eyes.

Joe wanted to intervene but also knew that Y/N had it handled; something she’d proven before.

She glanced around the room with panic in her eyes until they fell on Noah, utter relief filling them. The guy followed her gaze and scoffed when he realized what she Y/N was looking at.

Noah’s blood ran cold as his heart was thumping loudly in his ears, everything becoming white noise to him. His fingers shook at his sides, doing his best to remain calm.

“Who is that guy?” He asked Malcolm.

“Dennis. Ethan’s assistant.”

Matt, who had snuck up beside Noah, urged him with a look.

“This asshole just asked Y/N to go outside with him for more privacy.”

Fire burned in Noah’s eyes as he snapped them back over to the couch, where he nearly choked at the sight in front of him. Dennis was dragging his fingers down Y/N’s neck with intimacy that was reserved for Noah only. That was his spot. Y/N was his, it was proven tonight when she played her song for him.

His insides burned with rage that it nearly made him unable to see anything in front of him.

The sound of Y/N’s hand smacking Dennis’ hand away broke through the haze in Noah’s vision.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she seethed.

Joe quickly pulled Y/N up from the couch just as Noah pushed himself off the edge of the counter and made his way through the crowd over towards his girlfriend; hands shaking with more vigor now. It would be so easy to punch Dennis and show him who Y/N belongs to, however, Noah wouldn’t create a scene tonight; not when this night meant so much to Hollow Souls.

With three deep breaths, Noah came to a halt in front of Y/N who quickly found solace underneath his arm.

“Everything alright?” He wondered.

Y/N, albeit with the annoyed look in her usual bright eyes, wore a faux smile. “Yeah, now it is.”

“I think you were just leaving, no?” Joe asked Dennis.

The man shook his head while slowly rising to his feet. “No, actually I wasn’t. I heard that Y/N is single so I thought to shoot my shot.”

Noah’s body vibrated with anger so Y/N rested a hand on his chest, her touch immediately calming him.

“I’d like to know where you heard that,” Noah spoke slowly, even though he was on edge.

“Does it matter?” Dennis harshly laughed. “All I’m saying is that she looks sexy as fuck tonight. I thought we could sneak away for a bit but it seems like she’s too far up your ass to even notice there are other guys here.”

“I already said no,” Y/N’s voice was stern.

Noah’s eyes sliced Dennis in half but remained calm; an eerie calm that seemed to have the gathering crowd of their friends on edge. His arm was still around her, claiming Y/N as his own but for added measure he left a kiss on the side of her head.

Dennis raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, I get it. It’s fine, from what I hear from Trey, you can’t be satisfied anyway.”

Chase appeared almost out of nowhere and grabbed him by the collar of his green polo. “Time for you to go. Now.”

“Chase, please. No fighting,” Y/N begged still in Noah’s embrace.

His usual bright blue eyes were dark, a deep hue of midnight, while he glared at Dennis.

“I promise, no fighting,” Chase gritted out through clenched teeth. “I’m only going to show this asshole the way out.”

Noah and Dennis shared one final glance, victory dancing on the former's lips before he whispered in Y/N’s ear.

“Upstairs. Now.”

Her eyes sparkled when she gazed up at him with a mischievous smirk. The both of them slipped away almost unnoticed by everyone, running up the stairs two at a time with Noah smacking her ass, her giggles echoing far behind them.

READER

As soon as we were in the confines of our bedroom in the rental house, Noah lifted me in the air to press my back against the door. I wrapped my legs around his waist while his hands gripped my thighs. There was a dire need of want in his eyes as he crashed his lips to mine in such a frenzied, hungry kiss, that it made me see stars from the force of it. His teeth grazed over my tongue and then my lips, drawing the teeniest bit of blood.

“Fuck, Noah!” I exclaimed while dotting a finger to my lip.

Growling, he began biting my neck, licking away Dennis’ touch. “I don’t know who the fuck he thinks he is. No one will ever fucking talk to you like that or touch what’s mine.”

“Oh god, yes,” I hissed, running my hands through his hair when he sucked on my sweet spot.

Somehow Noah managed to yank off my panties in our position and stuffed them deep into his pocket. One lone finger slipped between us when he pinned me to the door again and started rubbing fast circles on my clit.

“Shit. Fuck. So good,” I crowed while pulling on the ends of his hair.

Once I was wet enough, Noah quickly pulled out his cock, rubbing a fist over it for a few pumps before slipping in between my folds with a hard snap of his hips that we rattled against the door. I felt so full, so stretched open, that I gasped; not realizing at first that Noah forgot to put on a condom.

“I want that motherfucker to hear who you belong to, angel,” he grunted with each thrust, nails digging into the skin of my bare ass to keep me grounded against him.

“Fuck, god. So good,” I panted while scratching at his shoulders. “Right there.”

We both were grunting so loudly and with the banging of the door, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that everyone could hear us downstairs. But none of them mattered.

Only Noah and I did.

His lips attacked mine once again, teeth smacking and tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths.

“Say my name, I want him and any other man who thinks they have a shot, to hear who you belong to,” Noah bit down hard on my neck, his thrusts were fast and relentless.

“NOAH!” I screamed when his finger pressed against my clit again, being exactly what I needed to come apart on his cock.

My body writhed in his tight hold on me and with the force of his hands on my ass, I knew that I would have bruises in the morning but I didn’t fucking care.

“You’re mine.” He grunted while craning my neck back by my hair.

Noah went back to working on the raised red mark on my neck, right alongside the other bite marks he left before.

“Yes, I am,” I rasped, gone in ecstasy.

“Forever angel,” Noah’s hips stilled before pulling himself completely out of me. “Fucking say it.”

“I’m yours forever, Noah!” I proclaimed with a feverish nod.

“You’re mine, angel,” he gruffed while now wrapping his hand around his cock.

It was thick and red, almost angry from being denied release.

“It felt too good and I didn’t want to risk it,” he sighed while letting me fall to my feet.

I kissed his lips, this time more gentle than our previous kisses. “Cum on my chest.”

Noah’s movements around his cock faltered for a moment, pupils dilating to pure black.

“What?”

Dropping to my knees, I pulled down the front of my dress to expose my bare chest to him and peered up at him through my lashes.

“I want you to mark me, Noah. Mark what’s yours,” I begged.

“Shit, Y/N,” he mused while running one hand through my hair, dragging his fingers down my neck over my chest to pull and pinch my nipples.

His grip around his cock was tight, knuckles turning white as he moved his hand up and down with such a velocious pace, it almost made it hard to focus on it. I licked my lips when I spotted the precum Noah used to spread over the head of his cock and I whined with the desire to taste him.

The hand he had wrapped around the back of my neck to keep me in place tightened its grip as he bent over me, resting his forehead against the door. Noah was still dressed but I could only imagine that the muscles in his stomach were taut, his release so close.

“Cum for me, Noah. Please,” I begged with a whiny breath.

“Fucking hell,” he howled my name when his warm release shot all over my neck and down between my breasts.

I hummed in pleasure, seeing the white stickiness run down my stomach, reveling in the feeling of his mark all over me. Noah stared down at me through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with each deep breath.

“I didn’t think,” he took a deep breath while licking his lips. “I didn’t think that would be so hot.”

Allow him to help me to my feet, I couldn’t wipe the smirk from my face. “I did, why do you think I asked for it?”

Noah’s eyes flashed as he bent low to capture my lips in a kiss. “Am I going to keep finding out your secret kinks, angel?”

“I think so since you discovered two of them already,” I dragged a finger down his cheek.

“You like possessive sex? I feel terrible for throwing you against the door,” Noah rubbed the back of his neck.

I shrugged. “It’s not so much the possessive side of it but more so the dominant side of you.”

He lifted my hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on my palm. “Do you want to head back downstairs?”

“No, I’m exhausted and need a shower,” I giggled while motioning to my chest.

Even though his cheeks reddened, the look that crossed his face as he looked me over made my core clench.

“Get cleaned up and I’ll sneak downstairs to grab us some snacks,” Noah patted my ass, dismissing me towards the bathroom connected to our bedroom.

“Think Folio will share those chocolate-covered pretzels he brought?” I wondered.

Noah chuckled while stuffing his cock back into his pants before zipping them. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Right before he slipped through the door, I chastised him when I noticed the large red mark on my neck.

ASTRID

“Okay, I think they’re finally finished,” I chuckled while walking into the bedroom I was sharing with Jolly. “The door stopped rattling awhile ago and when I walked past their bedroom, I heard one of them snoring.”

Jolly peered up from strumming a few notes on the guitar in his lap and smiled at me.

“It’s most likely, Noah. Do you know he wears those nose strips?”

“No way!” I gasped while pulling down the sleeves of his sweater I was wearing, moving about the room to finish getting ready for bed.

It was his black Bad Omens hoodie, with the hand and gun on the front.

“Yeah, try sleeping in a moving sweatbox and hearing that. I sometimes worry he’ll inhale the bus curtains. That’s Y/N’s problem now,” he chuckled while reaching for me and pulling me to the bed with him.

I broke out in a fit of giggles when he placed me in his lap and then rested the guitar in mine. He set my fingers in the position they needed to before helping me strum a few notes.

He placed a kiss on my shoulder. “I’m glad you were able to leave Fika for the weekend to be here with me.”

I turned my head towards him and kissed his lips. “Jessica can handle it. I need to start loosening the reins a bit and enjoy things more.”

Jolly’s eyes glinted as he set the guitar down on the floor before lying me back down on the bed, lifting my end of the sweater to reveal all I was wearing underneath was a pair of black underwear.

“You walked around like this?” His voice rumbled deep within his chest.

I innocently shrugged. “I didn’t run into anyone. Besides, I’m practically swimming in your sweater. No one would have seen anything.”

Hooking my underwear with his fingers, Jolly practically ripped them down my legs before flipping me onto my stomach.

“Keep the sweater on, käraste,” he demanded while spreading my legs wide.

“Fuck, yes,” I nodded while burying my face into the pillow, hearing Jolly’s belt buckle fall to the floor.

NOAH

Jolly and I moved around the large kitchen, almost with ease like we’d done this countless times before as we made breakfast for everyone. It was our last day up in Big Bear and we had a full day of activities planned.

Breakfast, a mountain hike, lunch at a diner in town, and Y/N wanted to steal me away for a few hours to go horseback riding.

The large table was filled with everyone and I had to stop for a moment to appreciate everyone here who came out to support Hollow Souls. They didn’t need to but they did because Y/N, Chase, and Malcolm became part of our family with that tour that seemed so long ago now.

“Noah, can you hand me the eggs?”

Snapping my gaze away from everyone, I turned towards Jolly and handed him the carton of eggs.

“So,” I smirked while pouring more pancake mix onto the sizzling griddle. “I heard you had a great night last night. I walked past your room to come down to the kitchen for a drink and heard you grunting something in Swedish. What was it?”

He froze, mixing the eggs in the large bowl for a moment before scoffing. “Like you’re one to talk. We all heard you guys last night. The door wouldn’t stop rattling, shaking the walls.”

My face was beet red and I adjusted the collar of my sweater to ease it away from my neck. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m surprised you even heard anything over your snoring,” Jolly shrugged with a sly smirk. “I told Astrid you use nose strips.”

I dropped the spatula, it clattering to the counter and gasped. “You did not!”

A sudden movement from the stairs caught both of our attention, our heads snapping to the forms of Jesse and Maxxine walking down, her wearing one of his shirts. With a shared look, Jolly and I scurried over to our girlfriends, me pulling on Y/N’s shirt while she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Mochi,” she smacked my hand away. “Not now. I’m hungry and need caffeine. Sex in the shower took a lot out of me this morning.”

“Angel,” I reached for her again.

“I’m serious,” she held a stern gaze over the rim of her cup as she looked at me. “I need a break.”

Rolling my eyes, I turned her around just in time for her to see Jesse hold out the chair for Maxxine, who blushed up at him in thanks.

“No fucking way!” Y/N sputtered into her cup and then looked back at me. “She stayed the night with him?”

I wrapped my arms around her, breathing in the peach scent of her body wash, and smiled. “Look at you, little matchmaker.”

We shared a kiss before I motioned for her to sit down at the table so I could bring her a plate of food.

Everyone went about the kitchen, filling up their own plates while I sat down next to Y/N, handing her the plate. Once everyone was seated, Malcolm took a long pull of his coffee before setting it down on the dark oak of the table.

“So, who do you think was louder last night? Jolly or Noah?”

The noise of my fork falling on my plate rang loudly in all of our ears while Jolly nearly choked on his scrambled eggs. Both of us slowly sank into our seats while Astrid and Y/N shared a look across the table, stifling a fit of giggles behind their hands.

Noticing the way our faces reddened, Folio spoke up to change the subject. “Did anyone enjoy seeing the snow dogs? Michelle and I had a great time when we were here last time.”

“Oh that’s right,” Davis nodded. “You guys were here for Valentine's Day, right?”

While their conversation fell on deaf ears, I felt my heart stutter in my chest and glanced over to Y/N, who was having her own conversation with Michael who sat next to her. The realization hit me with such force, that I had to lean farther back into my chair.

Even though it was well into March, we never spent Valentine's Day together, and honestly, that wasn’t something that sat well with me. My heart yearned to make up for all the times we missed during our time apart and for the rest of breakfast, I made those plans in my mind.

“Were we really that loud last night?”

Y/N asked me at the same time Astrid asked Jolly and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me with a chuckle, brushing my lips against her ear.

“Want to see if we can get even louder before we leave?” I nibbled on her ear lobe.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #tina and sarah talks

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vampireloverz · 1 year ago

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cw/tw: L x gn! reader, reader has a vulva, reader rides L, unprotected sex

“Can I go faster?”

L purses his lips the way he always does when he’s already made up his mind but has to pretend to think about it. You already know his answer based on that look.

“No,” he says breezily, his hand on your thigh sliding upwards to squeeze your hip as if to make sure you do as he says.

You let out a groan but do your best to keep up the pace, no matter how agonizingly slow it feels. Your mind tries to focus on him instead of the slight burn in your thighs, your eyes are drawn to the way his shirt is pulled up under his collar so his soft, pale stomach and chest are exposed. If not for the light flush in his cheeks, you’d wonder if you were having any effect on him at all.

“Sorry,” he whispers, both of you know he’s not, but his lithe fingers begin to circle your clit so you don’t mind.

You’re unsure how long you’ve been languidly, steadily riding him, long enough for the warm glow of sunset to fade into cool moonbeams and city lights through the windows. You feel like you’ve been teetering on the edge of an orgasm for ages, his fingers on you are more than you can bear. You sink down, taking all of him with a noise more sigh than moan before you kiss him, rocking your hips to chase the pleasure.

“There you go,” L breathes against your mouth, your face burning at how much you like his gentle encouragement, “That’s it, feel good.”

Your thighs try to close around him as your orgasm approaches, the knot in your stomach curling tighter and tighter with each pass of L’s fingers until the pleasure overwhelms and you come undone. L swallows every sound you make with pride, making his own soft sounds of satisfaction when you grasp at him with enough force to bruise. Your orgasm lingers, flowing over you in hot, thick pulses as L continues to rock your hips for you, prolonging each wave of gratification.

Your sense of time is even more warped and foggy than before, all you know once your orgasm dies down are L’s dark eyes on yours and his cock still heavy and insistent inside you.

“Wanna go faster now?”

You snort, still a little dizzy from orgasm, “No, I’m alright.”

“My turn?” he murmurs after a while of exchanging lazy kisses, his voice slightly breathless and tinged with something like amusement. His eyes are half closed and a smidge unfocused, the barest hint of a dazed smile painting his lips.

“I dunno…”

You feel a wave of desperate affection for him when he breathes out a fucked out laugh, “Don’t say that.”

“I’ve gotten mine, why should I—”

L cuts you off by shifting so quickly it bowls you over and leaves you pressed forehead to forehead, “Don’t you want me to fill you up?”

You kiss him to muffle the undignified noise that threatens to spill out your mouth, you can feel the small smile on his lips grow.

“Make me cum,” L’s voice is more pleading than commanding, a touch of desperation coloring his words.

A fleeting thought of making him wait even longer crosses your mind, but the thought is just that, fleeting. Despite your best efforts to pretend otherwise, you want to make him feel good. Pulling away from him feels daunting, your legs shake at first, but you find your rhythm soon enough.

“I’m not going fast,” you tell him, your body already betraying your lie as your hips rise and fall quicker than before.

L lets his head fall back onto the bed with a moan, “Whatever you say, baby.”

#L x reader #L lawliet x reader #📝 — dn #💒.mini

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cobaltperun · 8 months ago

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Lost (21) - Let the Sun in

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 3.6k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Help me darling, now I'm feeling so lost-

Tara twisted and turned in the bed of Danny’s guestroom. She couldn’t be alone, she couldn’t handle it anymore, she tried to after she was released from hospital, all the way back in 2021, and she ended up calling you to stay the night almost every night, or she would end up sleeping in your apartment, and it hardly mattered if Sam was there those first two weeks. She needed you. Well, it wasn’t that she absolutely could not stay alone, she could, she stayed alone in your apartment while you were training for your final two fights, it was just that she couldn’t stay alone when she had no idea where you were. If you were on a business trip and Sam somehow couldn’t be with her, Tara would be fine. Because you were fine, and because she knew when you’d come back.

Now she had no idea how you were or when you’d come out of prison, so she asked Danny to move in until you were released, just so she wouldn’t be alone. She trusted Danny, he saved your life, he loved Sam, he was patient with Sam and before everything fell apart, she was constantly trying to get Sam to take the next step in her relationship with him. She kept trying, but Sam was too afraid to do it.

It wasn’t that Sam was afraid that Danny would betray her, she was more afraid of taking that next step, of getting so used to him constantly being by her side like you were by Tara’s, and then losing him abruptly. Yet, Danny remained with Sam, completely understanding her, and Tara could never thank him enough for everything he did.

Trusting Danny and feeling safe were, however, two entirely different things and it had nothing to do with Danny. Tara couldn’t feel safe, not without you with her. She turned again, hugging the pillow, and pressing her face into your shirt. She took deep breaths, pretending the shirt she was wearing, and the one she placed over the pillow would trick her into thinking you were there, but it wasn’t working. The pillow was too soft, the scent mixing with her own and fading fast, and nothing she did could change that. She was cold, all alone for the first time in her life and the time was passing so slowly she thought she would go insane.

Because, as lonely as Tara often was, she was never all alone. Dad left, Sam was still there, as distant as she was, and then you came along, and she was never alone after that. When you left to prepare for your final matches, Sam was there, and that was it. Now you were locked up and Tara couldn’t even hear your voice, and Sam was still missing.

Instinctively, her hand lowered to her stomach, to the child growing inside of her. “Mom will come back soon, okay? She’ll put her arms around us like she used to, don’t worry. Remember when we got the results? How gently she was holding us?” so, to pass time and hopefully lull herself to sleep she told your child the story yet again.

~X~

The two weeks waiting period was filled with nervous energy, at least for Tara. You on the other hand, you would just randomly drop to your knees and place your hand on Tara’s stomach, saying ‘hi’ to your child. It always brought a smile to Tara’s face to see you this soft, because while you were always soft with Tara you didn’t have a tendency to be like that to others. Well, this was your child, so it was natural, but it still brought a smile to her face.

And right now, you were doing the same thing, crouching in front of Tara and gently gliding your fingers along her stomach and under her shirt as the two of you waited for the doctor to come back with the results. “Hey, Tiny, are you cozy in there?” you teased, making Tara jokingly smack your hand away. ‘Tiny’ was your nickname for your child, because you had no idea if it was a boy or a girl, and you wouldn’t know until the child was born, and so, you went with Tiny. Because it was a baby, so of course it was tiny… “Your mommy is mean, you know?” you grinned at Tara, but sat down next to her, pulling her into your side.

The two of you… calmed down a bit, at least as far as Tara sitting on your lap went. You were still very much in love, but she no longer acted like sitting somewhere other than on your lap was a punishment she didn’t deserve. Now that was reserved for snuggling time, and maybe brief moments every now and then, and always in the privacy of your home and for the most part when no one else was around. And Tara guessed those times would become even less frequent when the child is born. So, instead of sitting on your lap, Tara would just lean on you, hugging you and enjoying how protectively you’d wrap and arm around her as well, just like you were doing now.

The doctor eventually came in, and from the look on her face Tara figured the news were great.

“Congratulations! It was a success, you are officially pregnant miss L/N!” the doctor told the two of you and Tara looked down. She was pregnant. She actually had a living being growing inside of her body. She looked at you, equally in disbelief in and elation, and saw the biggest grin on your face, even bigger than the one you had on your photo with Zack, even bigger than the one you had when the two of you got married, and you just pulled her onto your lap, not caring one bit about where you were. And she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss the feeling of her back pressed against you.

She laughed, unable to contain her happiness. Nothing compared to this feeling, she was happy when the two of you got together, when you proposed, when you got married, when you woke up from the coma, but those were different feelings, just as intense, but still different. “Y/N! We’re having a child!” she couldn’t stop her tears and she could feel something warm soaking the back of her shirt, right where your face was. She smiled widely when you wrapped your strong arms around her stomach, hugging her in a way that would prevent anything from touching her stomach without first going through you. Gentle and fiercely protective at the same time, you just kissed the back of her neck.

“We are, Love, we are,” you whispered, and when she looked into your eyes, she nearly choked at how much happiness and love and gratitude she saw in them. And she realized that, while you were okay with her choice, you may have just realized that you did crave a bigger family, a child to take care of and raise with Tara.

~X~

The story, and her own arms protectively wrapped around your baby, eventually did lull her to sleep. Even if a few tears fell and soaked her pillow, even if her body still trembled slightly under all the blankets. She had to sleep, she had to for your child. She had to rest, eat well, and take care of herself to make sure your baby was healthy.

You would come back. You’d never leave her alone, you didn’t when you were in a coma, and you’d come back this time as well. To her and to your child. To your little family. “Y/N,” she mumbled in her sleep, reality warping as she reunited with you in her dreams.

She saw you, exactly the way you were that morning, you lifted her up, hugged her tightly as she breathed in your scent and wrapped her arms around you. She was no longer trembling, but she didn’t feel much warmer. She could smell the breakfast you set up for her on the table, the eggs, and waffles, and puff pastry filled with cream cheese. You made sure to make her breakfast every morning, and then you’d go to your office to work, you for your company and Tara on her reviews. She ended up becoming a movie, TV, and book critic. Mindy and Anika tried to get her to give script writing or directing a shot, but Tara didn’t want to be in the spotlight, so, she became a critic, and she could work from home for the most part which really helped her make that career choice.

“This isn’t a dream, right? Please tell me this isn’t a dream,” she pleaded, having spent the past weeks dreaming this exact dream again and again.

“It’s not a dream, Tara,” you’d assure her, as you always did in her dreams, lying to her once again. And you let go of her, dropping to your knees to kiss her stomach. “Hey, Tiny,” you whispered.

“Please, Y/N,” this was a dream, she knew it when she tried to pull you up so she could kiss you, but you wouldn’t budge. “Y/N,” she tried to say your name again, but somehow her voice kept failing her. It was just another dream.

“I’m sorry, Tara,” your voice grew distant, and she could swear she was feeling you disappearing from her hold.

“Wait! Y/N, please, don’t leave, please stay at least while I’m dreaming!” she cried out, desperately trying to find you as the smell of the last breakfast you made for her vanished, and she was left in an empty kitchen, with nothing around her, not even furniture. “I need you, please, please just stay with me, stay with us,” she whispered, begged, just to feel you near even if she would wake up all alone once again, even if it would break her heart all over again to wake up cold and alone and without your arms holding her. Even in her dream she was left alone to sob as she dropped to her knees and hugged her stomach.

~X~

Zoom calls weren’t something Chad was used to, but here he was, on one because that was the only way this meeting could have happened. He was in his apartment in Miami, he was happy, his career was taking off, but he felt lonely, separated from his twin and all his friends. He looked around the apartment while waiting for others to join in, at the moment it was just him and Kirby who hosted the meeting. The apartment was filled with all the things that reminded him of home, the framed photos of his family and friends and now his team. He had to do some cleaning, his place was getting a bit messy, nothing too bad, but there was some dust lying around and he still needed to do the dishes from this morning.

“Looking a bit lost there,” he heard Mindy’s teasing voice and turned to his laptop. Mindy and Anika just joined the call.

“Just wondering when you were finally going to grace us with your presence,” he teased back. Despite the situation he smiled when he saw Mindy, Anika, and Kirby’s faces on the screen. They were just waiting for Tara and Danny to join in and soon enough, Danny’s face popped up as well. He looked exhausted, and Chad couldn’t blame him. Tara was devastated, and he couldn’t do anything to help her. None of them could, Sam might be able to help a bit, but Tara needed you back.

“Tara is still sleeping, I figured it was better to let her rest,” he told them before they could ask about Tara.

Chad nodded. If this could be solved without Tara getting involved, then that’s how it should be done, after all, not only was Tara pregnant, but from what Kirby told them earlier… all of this might be too much for her.

“That’s for the better. I really wasn’t sure how to tell her all of this,” Kirby sighed, just as relieved as Chad. Kirby’s table was filled with papers, and Chad guessed they were all the piles of evidence she had at this point. Was he really back? Ghostface? He wished he could deny it, but he couldn’t. It was happening again.

“I don’t think hiding anything from her is smart, even if she is pregnant,” Mindy argued, always the more rational of the two of them.

“She will find out eventually,” Anika agreed and while Chad understood the logic behind it, he still wanted to keep Tara safe for at least a bit longer. She was his oldest friend, and while he grew close to you as well, especially over training, Tara was his best friend. And… well, he had a bit of a crush on her for a while, back when they were still in high school, before he even met Liv, but she was off limits and so in love with you there wasn’t even a point in trying. So, he waited until those feelings faded away, unlike Wes who did try to ask her on a date.

Chad sighed, things were much simpler back then, and their only concerns were homework and school being school. What he wouldn’t give to see Wes fuming to himself when you and Tara got together and eventually accepting that you made Tara happier than anyone else ever could.

“That’s the problem for another day. First things first, you three are out of this. Don’t come to New York, don’t get involved, just hide and wait it out,” Kirby began, clearly talking to Chad, Mindy and Anika. “Danny, I’d like to exclude you as well, but,” she trailed off.

“I’m already here and I promised Sam I’d protect Tara,” Danny finished for her, and Kirby nodded.

That’s roughly how long it took Chad to fully register what Kirby told him to do. “Now wait just a second, what do you mean don’t come to New York? Tara is our friend, and so are Sam and Y/N, we’re not about to leave them to face these lunatics alone,” he already booked a flight, he would go there and make sure Tara was fine until you were released, and Sam came back. Since there was nothing he could do for you or Sam, this was the best thing to do for everyone involved, protect the most important person to you two.

“Chad’s right. If you are sure this is Ghostface again, Tara will need us,” Mindy agreed with him, and he could see Anika nodding next to her.

“I owe her for saving my life, and the same goes for Sam and Y/N,” Anika added.

“The point is, we’re not leaving Tara alone,” Chad finished. What was Kirby even thinking? Trying to get them to just abandon Tara in this situation?

Danny remained silent, but Kirby frowned. “Are the three of you really that naïve? Chad, what happened to Y/N when she went after Ghostface? She was forced to retire, come back to New York looking for a fight and say goodbye to your career,” that shut him up. “Mindy, Anika, you two are in the same boat, you’re just starting out and are already gaining fame and recognition, this is just what someone is waiting for to use against you. Gale was an exception, not the rule. A reporter in a much different time without social media and so much attention on your private lives. Not to mention she could argue she was just doing her job and got in danger for that. You three are adults now, not teenagers caught up in some mess. Come here and everyone will think you’re looking for trouble,” she got to the point, not sparing their feeling even for a bit.

Chad looked down, deep down he understood Kirby was right, to an extent, but it still felt wrong to just leave Tara alone. If the roles were switched he knew Tara would flip Kirby off and come to help him, and you’d be right there with her. He clenched his fists and looked down, they were Core Five, they went through so much together. “It’s not fair,” he whispered, missing the way Kirby’s eyes softened for a moment.

“Tara wouldn’t want you to be in danger, and Danny, you especially need to pay attention to what I’m about to say,” Kirby continued and shared her screen, it was a footage from some camera at a location Chad didn’t recognize, but upon Kirby zooming he saw it was someone wearing Ghostface costume with dog painted on the left side of the mask.

“What’s with the change?” Mindy asked, confused by the painted dog, though clearly distraught by the familiar robes and the white mask on the photo.

Kirby sighed. “We’ve identified several different masks, dog, bear, fish, bull, monkey, rhino, and we believe there are more. Several years ago, before Richie and Amber even met, there were rumors of a Ghostface cult emerging, most people didn’t take it seriously, but I did and I’ve been digging around, they’ve existed for almost a decade now, but had insufficient fundings. That, somehow changed a bit less than a year ago and now they are on the loose,” Kirby’s words made Chad’s blood run cold.

“And you want us to leave Tara to deal with all of them with just Danny by her side?!” Mindy slammed her fist against the table before Chad could do the same.

“Yes! Because this cult being active is the least of her troubles, take a good look at this Ghostface,” Kirby zoomed in once again on the figure. “I believe this is Sam, her figure, the brutality of the attacks connected to this Ghostface, the latest victim, it all implies Sam is involved.”

They all remained completely silent, just taking the information in. Kirby had to be wrong. Sam would never become a Ghostface! Sure, she was getting more unstable lately, almost frighteningly so, but to put on the mask? Granted, Tara did say she put the mask on to kill Bailey, but this was entirely different. She wouldn’t do this to Tara! She wouldn’t be involved with you getting arrested, right? Not when you were Tara’s greatest protection, or when Tara was at her most vulnerable.

Kirby just kept adding more and more bad news. “And here’s another thing. Y/N isn’t in jail. She was arrested, was meant to be transferred and during that drive she just vanished. The police was instructed to keep silent to save face, but she disappeared and no one knows how or where it happened,” it felt like each word Kirby was saying only made things worse and worse.

They all just stared at Kirby’s screen, at the photo of Ghostface Kirby thought was Sam, and at the official report saying you were missing. Chad glanced at Mindy’s screen and saw her holding onto Anika while Anika covered her mouth with her hands, horrified by this new information. Danny looked pale, as if just now realizing how bad things actually were and Chad wasn’t feeling much better. He felt sick, and he couldn’t do anything to help Tara.

And then the worst-case scenario happened.

“What did you say?” they all heard Tara’s voice.

~X~

“A hero always needs a villain, a twisted mirror, a broken counterpart, someone formidable, someone who can prove that the hero isn’t untouchable! But a hero is more than that! A hero is a symbol! Hero has no face, only a mask, so the legacy can be continued, so that someone else can continue where the previous hero had to stop!” thirteen masks hung from the walls, one for each hero, all of them taken down by the villains.

“What makes Sidney Prescott better than Billy Loomis?! Or Samantha Carpenter better than Richie Kirsch?! Both were made by their victims, villains rising to fame for killing them!” the latest Ghostface exclaimed, his arms spread, blood-soaked knives in each hand. “Not us though! We will show them what a team of heroes can do! We will do what those before us couldn’t! We will fight fire with fire!”

When he finished, the candle shaped lights lit up, revealing a room filled with people wearing Ghostface masks. Including their leader there were twelve of them and they had killed their latest victim. Christina Carpenter’s blood dripped from the table, she paid for her mistake of giving birth to villainous half-sisters.

“Is the fighter still locked up?” the leader asked, coming down from his high

“Yes. She is still the only suspect for her father’s murder,” one of the Ghostfaces, one with a dog painted on the side of the mask, spoke and the leader nodded.

“We need a proper counter for her, only then can we execute her. Ghost-Bear, how is project Ghost-Bird coming along?” the leader demanded.

A Ghostface with bear painted on the mask stood up. “I have found a way to get her to come to the country,” his accent proved he wasn’t originally from the States.

“Good, I entrust that part to you,” the leader nodded.

This was the power of a hero, and this was their right, to worship and follow in the footsteps of their heroes, until the villains were all eradicated, starting with Samantha Carpenter’s sister. That would lure the villain to them instead of going through the troubles of finding her. He wouldn’t speak of that just yet though. First, Ghost-Bird, and then Ghost-Bear would be tasked with bringing Tara L/N in and keeping her locked up until they were ready.

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#tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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