#no wonder he wants to retire in a few years

[meregrin]

given the jarring difference between the chorus and the verses it sounds to me like two different points of view. the melodic part is obviously the tired artist "doomed to party", forced to stay out late at some club past its closing time when all he wants is to go home. meanwhile the verse is a member of the audience wanting an escape from their dull and lonely everyday life, going from one party to the next to avoid going home.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

 He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!

[chaosandmarigolds]

Simon having no boundaries is honestly really funny to me, because as I said- this man thought he was two or so months in a relationship and...and well now-

"We need to talk."

You stand in the doorway to the apartment you had reluctantly called home for the past few years, and you take a breath, it was an odd situation, he was Oliver's babysitter- and...Well you weren't even sure where it went wrong. With eyes still blurry from sleep you take a breath and nod, just moving to stand outside in the hall rather than allowing him inside- which would ensure the boys excitement.

"I'm sorry if I was blunt."

That was it?

A moment and you nod again, wrapping your arms over your chest, "We had different understandings on our relationship, I can...understand why you would be shocked."

If either of you wanted to take the prize for most awkward silence inducer you would both tie. He clears his throat to break it, "Was I...was that far off?"

"You called me yours. I haven't been someones since Olly's dad and-I am just confused on how you would think our relationship is romantic when we haven't even kissed."

Reasonable, but his reply was immdeadte, "I didn't want to force you to do something you didn't wanna do."

With a sigh your look back to the door for a moment, only to pause and think about Ollie, "My son....he loves you, I can...I can't take you away from him." Your words were mainly for yourself and when you look back you find that man giving you the most pleading expression, so much that it almost disarmed you. "Simon, please, I mean of course I wanted to date you- any person within their right mind would want but we cant-"

"Why not?"

"You're military." It was the truth, it was harsh and it caused you both to falter.

"I'm retired"

"Simon-!" You groan and put your face into your hands, "No. it...its not that."

"Then what is it?"

This was just wonderful, somehow spilling your secrets to your kids babysitter who was in love with you, it was too good to be a sitcom. "I've been a military wife. Been there, done that- I don't think I'll survive being one again."

(annnnyway, i gotta get to class. byye <33)

[jellybonbons]

Shared Apartment, Shared Feelings

Leon Kennedy x gn afab!reader

CW: 18+ (mdni), virgin reader, college roommate au, retired fuckboy!leon, vendetta trio (chris, leon & rebecca), talks about virginity/relationship/trauma (car accident), fluff/angst/smut, a lot of kissing, dick piercing, oral job (afab receiving), pussy slapping, thigh jobs, aftercare.

Words: 7.4k

A/N: special thanks to my wife @roseglazedlens for beta reading and helping me with the banners <3 muah muah

Without a doubt, college is such a drag. It’s a wonder you haven’t given up on yourself already, with all the assignments piling up, submissions one after another, professors breathing down your neck, dealing with crappy groupmates and customers from your part-time job. But here you are, almost three years deep into your degree, with no turning back now.

You sighed, feeling the strain in your fingers from typing away all day. The pressure was real with an assignment due in just a few days. You tried to unwind with a book and music, but the impending thought of reading through another paragraph might just make your head explode. 

It’s been known that college can get pretty lonely at times. Sure, you've got friends here and there, but they're all caught up in their own stuff, on top of all that, their partners. This is when you wish you had one yourself. You've had your fair share of relationships or flings in the past, but it never really went beyond first base – blame it on your commitment issues and insecurities.

Virginity is a funny thing, isn't it? Some people don't really give it much thought, while others, like yourself, see it as a significant part of who they are. To you, it's more than just a physical state – it's about vulnerability, about letting someone in and truly being seen. Maybe that's why your relationships never seem to last long. You realise now that you settled for them, not for yourself. You were caught up in the idea of a relationship rather than being honest with yourself about what you truly wanted and needed. 

Heading into college, you finally found yourself crushing on someone – your roommate, Leon Kennedy. Your first meeting was awkward, to say the least. It started with your classmate-turned-friend, Rebecca Chambers, asking if you wanted to live with her and two of her friends since they had an extra room. Without hesitation, you agreed – after all, why not? Splitting the rent between four people and having a bigger apartment than your current one sounded like a win-win. But when you finally met her two friends, it felt like you stumbled upon an adorable squirrel with her two guard dogs.

You could definitely say that Leon and his other friend, Chris Redfield, were pretty protective of her, but Rebecca reassured them that she trusted you and thought you were a lovely person – bless her heart. From that day on, the tension slowly dissipated, and all of you learned how to live with each other, quirks and all. If there was ever a disagreement, Chris would call for a 'family meeting' to sort things out.

You've grown close to both Chris and Rebecca, but with Leon, it's different. He's close, yet there's still a sense of distance.

—

Exhibit A: 

The huge, comfortable couch in the living room was decorated with a mismatched assortment of decorative pillows, giving the area a homely, well-worn feel. The walls were covered in posters of bands, and a shelf next to it held a tidy collection of DVDs. Game controllers, remote controls, and empty food wrappers were frequently strewn all over the coffee table – no matter how many times Rebecca told Chris and Leon to clean them up. The room had the ideal ambience for movie evenings thanks to the floor lamp's warm glow and the fairy lights. 

You noticed that Leon would always have your favourite snacks on hand, without you even needing to ask. But then again, he made sure to get snacks for everyone else too. You never once mentioned your favourite snacks to him – you guess he might have overheard you talking to Rebecca in the dining area while he was playing video games with Chris in the living room that one time.

"Here," Leon said, passing you the brightly wrapped package after doling out snacks to the others.

“Thanks,” you said, taking them from Leon. “How did you know these are my favourites?”

He shrugged casually. “Maybe I'm just good at picking up on things.” 

"But I've never told you," you pointed out, genuinely curious.

Leon hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting yours. "I've got my ways of finding out,” he replied cryptically before turning away to grab a drink.

You raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by his response. “Oh, well, thanks again.”

"Oh my god! It's been so long since I've eaten those," Rebecca, who was cuddled up next to you, exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she gazed at your snacks. You chuckled at her enthusiasm.

"You want some?" you offered, opening the snack package. 

"Yes, please!" she eagerly replied.

If you had turned back, you would have noticed Leon's ears turning a faint shade of red, but you were too focused on sharing the snacks with Rebecca to notice his reaction.

Exhibit B: 

Amidst the chaos of exam week, you and Chris had taken over the living room for a study session. Notes, textbooks, and Post-it notes were strewn everywhere, creating a cluttered workspace. Rebecca had wisely chosen to isolate herself in her room, knowing that if she joined you two, it would devolve into gossip rather than studying. As for Leon, he preferred the solitude of studying alone.

By 2 am, Chris had already succumbed to exhaustion, snoring away on the couch. Meanwhile, you were hunched over your notes on the floor, frustration building as you re-read the material for what felt like the hundredth time. A headache was starting to form, exacerbated by the late hour and Chris' snoring.

Lost in your work, you didn't notice Leon's quiet approach until he set a hot mug of green tea on the coffee table beside you. "Take a break," he said casually, before moving over to Chris and gently nudging him awake, signaling that it was time for him to call it a night.

"Hey, wake up," Leon whispered.

Chris grunted in response, rolling over to his side and snoring loudly. Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes and deliver a – gentle – punch to Chris's arm, hoping it would be enough to jolt him awake.

"Ouch! Damn, Leon, that hurts," Chris groaned, rubbing his arm where Leon had punched him.

Leon, unapologetic, raised an eyebrow at Chris. "Maybe if you didn't snore like a freight train, I wouldn't have to resort to violence." 

Chris, still rubbing his arm, shot you a playful glare. "Well, if someone didn't study so quietly, maybe I wouldn't need to fill the room with my soothing snores."

"Don't look at me, I'm just trying to study peacefully," you retorted, raising your hand in mock surrender while cradling the mug in your other.

"Yeah, right. Your snores are like lullabies, Chris. I almost fell asleep while making my late-night snack,” Leon said with a slight smirk. 

Chris mockingly gasped. "You wound me, Leon. My snores are an art form." 

You chuckled. "Well, gentlemen, whether it's an art form or a lullaby, it's time for the masterpiece to take a break. Chris, go get some beauty sleep." Chris nodded.

"You too, don't stay up too late," Leon said to you, shooting a glance in your direction before grabbing Chris by his shirt.

"I'm up, I'm up," Chris protested, his voice muffled as Leon playfully put him in a headlock and guided him towards his room.

You couldn't help but chuckle at their antics, taking another sip of your tea as you watched them disappear down the hallway.

—

You found yourself in a dilemma. Leon had always been just a friend, but lately, you couldn't shake off the growing attraction you felt towards him. It wasn't just his physical appearance that drew you in, although his blue eyes, his piercings and the little details about him were certainly captivating. It was the way he was always there for you, that’s what friends are for, right?

You discovered that you couldn't stop thinking about him, day or night. His presence seemed to linger in your mind, occupying your thoughts even when you were supposed to be focusing on something else. You couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his video game strategies or the way he would absentmindedly run his hand through his hair when he was deep in thought. And those moles scattered across his skin, you found yourself itching to trace your fingers over them, to memorise every little detail of him. 

But despite your growing feelings, you were hesitant to act on them. You cherished the ‘friendship’ you shared with Leon and you were afraid of risking it by admitting your true feelings. So for now, you kept your emotions buried deep within, hoping that they would eventually fade away – but they didn’t.

— 

Leon had been sceptical when Rebecca first introduced you to him and Chris. He thought you might have ulterior motives, using her to get closer to him for his body. After all, he had a reputation as a fuckboy, although he considered himself a retired one now. That's why both him and Chris were so protective of her; he didn't want to drag Rebecca into his messy past again.

However, Leon was genuinely surprised when he discovered that you didn't know much about his past. While you were aware of his existence, you weren't deeply immersed in campus drama, preferring to spend your time online with other interests. You treated him like any other person, and he found himself grateful for that. In the past, he had been the worst version of himself, indulging in alcohol, weed, and sex, using his body to get whatever he wanted. But hey, in this economy, whatever works. 

He had grown accustomed to people using him, whether it was for physical gratification or emotional support. It was the darkest chapter of his history, and his once-close friendship with Chris and Rebecca had deteriorated to the point where they were practically strangers, but that was six months ago. Now they were back to being three peas in a pod, their bond stronger than ever.

Then came that one fateful night – that one awful night – when he had drunk too much and made the reckless decision to drive home while intoxicated from a party. What great friends he had. 

As Leon stirred awake in the hospital room, the rhythmic beeping of machines punctured the air, accompanied by the clinical scent of antiseptic. His gaze fell upon Rebecca, slumbering peacefully in a chair beside his bed, though the fatigue evident in the bags beneath her eyes spoke of restless nights spent by his side. Summoning what little strength he could muster, he attempted to rouse her with a feeble movement of his finger.

Suddenly, Chris burst into the room, bearing two cups of coffee in hand. The sight of Leon awake nearly caused him to fumble the cups, hastily setting them down on a nearby table before rushing to his friend's bedside with evident concern. Rebecca, startled by Chris's sudden entrance and booming voice, blinked awake in a daze.

“Leon, you’re awake!” Rebecca's smile lit up the room as she clasped Leon's uninjured hand in hers.

Leon attempted to speak, but his dry throat betrayed him. Swift to notice, Chris quickly retrieved a water bottle and a straw for Leon. While Rebecca, with practised ease adjusted the bed to a more comfortable position, allowing Leon to sit up slightly. As soon as the straw touched his lips, Leon didn't hesitate to take a much-needed sip, the cool water soothing his parched throat.

Once he had quenched his thirst, Leon managed a weak smile of gratitude, his gaze shifting between Chris and Rebecca. "Thanks, guys," he murmured hoarsely, his voice still rough from disuse. 

"Was anyone else hurt?” he asked anxiously, recalling the events of the previous night with a sense of dread. He knew he had made a terrible mistake by driving under the influence, and he dreaded the thought of anyone else being harmed because of his actions. 

Chris exchanged a glance with Rebecca before answering, his expression sombre. "It was just you, Leon," he replied gently, placing a comforting hand on Leon's shoulder. "You're lucky, man. Could've been a lot worse."

Rebecca nodded in agreement, her worry evident in her eyes. "We're just glad you're okay," she added softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

For once in his life, he let his tears flow freely, openly crying in front of them. There were many reasons for his tears, but two stood out: their unwavering support despite his past behaviour and the stark realisation of how close he came to losing everything. It felt like a wake-up call, a sign that he needed to change his ways.

As both Chris and Rebecca leaned in for an embrace, he felt the warmth of their love enveloping him. That moment marked a new beginning for them. They took turns caring for him, offering support and encouragement every step of the way. And with their help, he began to see a therapist to address his trauma and work through his issues, determined to become a better version of himself.

He knew he wasn't perfect, but he was steadily making progress.

—

You were like a breath of fresh air, bringing a sense of normalcy to Leon's life outside his close circle of friends. The more he observed you, the more smitten he became. He found himself falling hard for you, enchanted by the melody of your voice and the way your smile lit up the room. Even when you laughed at his silly jokes while Chris and Rebecca remained unimpressed, it only deepened his infatuation. From your quick wit to your undeniable charm, he felt like a lovesick puppy in your presence. 

Many moments with you left a lasting impression on Leon. One night, he had fallen asleep on the couch, and you had just returned from a night shift. Spotting Leon asleep, you crept, careful not to disturb him. You gently placed your belongings on the dining table before quietly slipping into his room to retrieve a blanket.

You returned with the blanket and draped them over him, ensuring he stayed warm throughout the night. As you crouched down beside him, you couldn't resist the urge to tuck a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, smiling softly at the peaceful expression on his sleeping face. 

As you quietly left the room and retreated to your own, Leon being the light sleeper he was, felt a rush of emotions flooding through him. His heart raced as he became aware of your proximity, even in his slumber. The gentle touch of your hand and the warmth of your presence lingered in his mind, leaving him feeling strangely comforted yet unsettled all at once. It was a moment he couldn't shake, stirring something within him that he couldn't quite put into words.

These mixed emotions were still present during another memorable moment, when you, Chris, Rebecca, and Leon gathered for a pizza dinner. Chris, in his usual generous fashion, ordered a variety – cheese, pepperoni, and BBQ pizzas. The living room transformed into a makeshift dining area as you all settled in to watch a movie while enjoying the feast. Despite the lively atmosphere, Leon found himself quietly observing you, the feelings from the previous night still lingering in his mind, adding a layer of depth to the otherwise ordinary gathering.

Whatever, he shook his thoughts away.

As the pizza boxes opened, Leon grabbed a slice of the BBQ pizza, only to discover a surplus of onions. His displeasure was evident and despite his efforts to discreetly pick off the offending toppings, the struggle did not go unnoticed by you.

Your laughter bubbled up as you observed Leon's onion-removing antics. "Not a fan of onions, huh?" you teased.

"Nah, I don’t like the extra crunch," Leon replied, continuing to pick them off.

You extended your plate towards him. "Just give them to me; I like onions," you offered with a smile.

"Really? Thanks," Leon responded, handing you the onion-laden slices.

"You need to stop being such a picky eater, Leon," Chris chimed in between bites of his pizza.

Leon shook his head defiantly. "Nope, not happening," he retorted, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Rebecca joined in, adding with a playful grin, "Hey, at least now we know who the real onion lover is around here!" 

After your laughter died down, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at Leon – you loved onions, but little did they know that you had a particular disdain for red onions.

Despite all this, Leon couldn't shake the memories that haunted him. Beneath the surface of his laidback demeanour lay a vulnerability he had yet to reveal to anyone outside his close circle of friends.

It was a sunny morning as you and Leon walked side by side to class, chatting idly about your schedules. But then your conversation was abruptly interrupted by the screech of tyres from behind, a sharp, piercing sound that seemed to echo through Leon's bones.

Without warning, Leon's steps faltered, his body freezing in place as his breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened with fear, his muscles tensing as if preparing for impact.

You sensed the shift in his demeanour immediately, instincts kicking in as you turned to face him, concern etched across your features. "Leon?" you called softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "Are you okay?"

"Don't," he said sharply, his voice tinged with a mixture of desperation and frustration. "Please, just... don't touch me."

You froze, your heart sinking at the rejection. You had never seen Leon react like this before, and the realisation only fueled your determination to help him.

"Okay," you said softly, pulling your hand back. "I won't touch you. But I'm here, Leon. You're not alone."

Leon's breaths came in short, ragged gasps, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggled to regain control of his racing thoughts.

Thinking quickly, you searched for another way to reach him. You remembered the breathing exercises you learned from the internet, the rhythmic pattern designed to calm the mind in moments of distress.

"Leon," you said gently, your voice a steady anchor in the storm of his panic. "Listen to me. We're going to try something, okay? Just focus on my voice."

Leon nodded hesitantly, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.

"Close your eyes," you instructed, your own voice calm and measured. "Now, take a deep breath in through your nose... and out through your mouth. Good. Now, let's do it again. In... and out."

Together, both of you repeated the breathing exercises; Leon's tense muscles gradually relaxing with each steady breath. You kept your voice low and soothing, guiding him through the process with gentle encouragement.

The chaotic noise of the campus faded into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your shared breaths. And with each passing moment, Leon felt the grip of panic loosening its hold, replaced by a sense of calm and clarity.

"Thank you," Leon whispered as he finally opened his eyes, his voice hoarse with overwhelming emotions.

 "Anytime.” You smiled softly at him.

—

You were attractive, considerate, attentive, but sometimes sarcastic — all the more reason to love you. So imagine his surprise when, during one of your deep conversations, you dropped the bombshell: "I'm still a virgin."

Leon's reaction was immediate. "Wait, what?" His eyes widened in disbelief, and he nearly choked on the iced tea Rebecca had made for everyone.

You couldn't help but smirk at his reaction, finding his surprise somewhat amusing. "Yeah, I know, right?" you replied casually, trying to downplay the moment. "Just never felt the rush, I guess."

Leon's expression softened, his initial shock giving way to an understanding. "Well, that's... unexpected," he admitted, his voice laced with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "But hey, it's your choice, and there's nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah," you said, taking a sip of the iced tea. You couldn't help but grimace as the sweetness hit your taste buds; Rebecca had gone a bit overboard with the sugar again. “I guess, I just have a hard time trusting people to truly see me, you get it?” you said, revealing a vulnerability that Leon hadn't seen before. 

“Just the idea of letting someone see a vulnerable side of you and then, things fall apart, and that person is not in your life anymore... it's terrifying."

Leon nodded thoughtfully, the flicker of a reassuring smile appearing on his lips. "I get it," he responded softly, his eyes reflecting understanding. 

"It's hard to open up when you've been hurt before. But not everyone is the same, you know? And sometimes, taking that risk can lead to something beautiful."

"Yeah, but I’m not ready to take that risk," you pondered, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Leon leaned forward, his expression gentle. "That's okay," he said. "It's all about timing, and when you're ready, you'll know. Until then, just focus on being true to yourself." If the old Leon heard this, he would cringe in disgust at how poetic he has become. 

“Aw, look at you, Mr. Wise man,” you teased, playfully punching his shoulder.

“Hey, I have experience, okay,” he chuckled, offering a playful wink. "Life's full of surprises, and you never know when the right person might come along." Leon thought to himself, hoping silently that he could be that person for you.

To be your person — it was a dream he cherished deeply. He already felt privileged enough to see you with your dishevelled hair every morning, to enjoy the breakfasts you made, to hear you humming to yourself as you cleaned the apartment, and to witness all the little quirks that made you... you.

Like the way you always insisted on starting your day with a cup of hot warm water because of its health benefits. Or how you had a habit of tapping your fingers on any surface whenever you were anxious. The way you collect little trinkets and gift them to others because they reminded you of them, or how you could never resist stopping to take pictures of the sky when it looked especially pretty. The way you scrunch your nose when you laugh, and how you always double-knot your shoelaces because "you can't be too careful,” even though they somehow always come undone, so he has to tie them for you again — cue to Rebecca and Chris giggling quietly at the back.

“Yeah, who knows?” you replied with a smile, stopping him from his daydreaming state. 

Leon looked into your eyes, a gentle warmth spreading through his chest. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you at that moment. Your smiles softened, and a comfortable silence settled between you. Time felt like it slowed down as you both gazed at each other, the unspoken words and hidden shared feelings hanging in the air.

However, the moment was cut short when cock-block Chris slid the balcony doors open, surprising you guys. 

"Hey, sorry to interrupt," Chris said, his voice breaking the momentary silence. "But I thought you might want to join us for board games. Rebecca's been bugging me to drag you both inside.”

You chuckled at Chris's interruption. "Sure, sounds like fun," you replied, shooting a playful glance at Leon.

Leon grinned in response, a twinkle in his eye as he nodded in agreement. "Let's go then," he said, rising from his seat and motioning for you to follow. 

“Can’t wait to beat you in Monopoly,” you added with a mischievous grin, earning a playful scoff from Leon.

“Dream on,” Leon replied with a playful smirk, grabbing both his and your drink before heading back inside.

“Hey, we know Rebecca is the master of Monopoly,” Chris chimed in.

"Yeah, you’re right, she always bankrupts us within the first hour," you agreed with a laugh.

"Alright, let's see if we can finally overthrow the reigning champion," Leon said with determination, leading the way back inside.

—

You should have been spending your weekend with friends, but alas, the call of assignments beckoned you to spend the week in your room. Your fingers moved on autopilot as you typed away on your laptop, nearing the end of your essay. All that remained were the conclusion and the references. 

This was the second time you had to redo this assignment. Your professor, Dr. Wesker, critiqued it during the tutorial, and it fell short of his expectations, so you had to incorporate the points you had missed. You made a mental note to give him three stars in the end-of-semester review – that being generous — and to punch Chris because he said Wesker’s class was easy. No, it was not; Wesker made sure to run the class like the Navy.

As the evening turned into night, you fueled your essay-writing spree with a touch of spite. The anticipation of going to the new jazz bar in your area with your friends was the added motivation. Empty instant coffee cans littered your desk, proving your determination. In the apartment, it was just you and Leon; Chris was visiting his sister, Claire, while Rebecca was out on a date with Billy. Helping Rebecca get ready had only made you more jealous of her evening out. Ever the sweetheart, she noticed you were down and promised to bring back treats for you as a reward.

The apartment felt unusually quiet, with only the hum of your laptop and the distant sounds of city life filtering through the windows. The silence was a stark reminder of the fun you were missing out on. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing Leon was just in the other room, a silent presence that somehow made the tedious task of essay writing a bit more bearable.

However, the universe was not on your side as your old laptop finally decided to give up on you. Despite all your efforts — charging, troubleshooting, and pleading — it refused to turn back on. "No, no, no, no!" you exclaimed, punctuating each word with a frustrated slam of your hand against the desk. Scratch that, Dr. Wesker is getting only one star and a long paragraph in the comment section.

Hearing the commotion from Leon’s bedroom, he paused his game and rushed into your room. "What happened?!" he asked, concern etched on his face.

You looked at him with tears streaming down your face. "My laptop won't open," you said.

His face softened as he approached you. "I'm assuming you've tried everything," he remarked.

"Yes!" you exclaimed, frustration evident in your voice.

"Okay, okay, calm down," Leon reassured you, his tone soothing. "What did you use to do your assignment on?" he inquired, rolling your chair closer to him and kneeling down in front of you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Google Docs," you replied.

He nodded reassuringly. "Okay, they have an auto-save feature, so your work is still there. In the meantime, you can use mine." Leon wiped away your tears with his thumb. "I know a guy who can fix your laptop, so you don't have to worry."

Leon's comforting touch eased your tension slightly. "Thanks," you said, your voice wavering with emotion. "I'm sorry for lashing out. It's just….it’s been a stressful week."

He offered you a sympathetic smile. "No need to apologise," he said softly. "We all have our moments.”

"You're too good for me," you whispered, your gratitude evident in your eyes.

Leon's sympathetic expression softened further as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Hey, don't say that," he replied earnestly. "You're amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend. And if you ever need someone to talk to or help you through tough times, I'm here for you, always.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” you said softly as you wiped the remaining tears away.

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the sound of the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the soft rhythm of your breathing. Then, you hesitated before speaking again.

"Leon... there's something I've been meaning to tell you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know we're friends, but... lately, I've been feeling something more. I can't shake this feeling that there's something between us, something deeper?"

Leon's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he didn't interrupt as you continued.

"I understand if you don't feel the same way," you said, the words tumbling out in a rush as you fidget with your fingers, feeling vulnerable and exposed. "I just needed to get it off my chest."

For a moment, there was only silence as Leon processed your words. Then, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, stopping you from fidgeting. On the inside, he was literally jumping up and down and screaming internally. His heart raced with excitement and joy, but he kept his composure, squeezing your hand gently to convey his feelings.

“I... I've been feeling the same way," he admitted quietly, his voice filled with emotion. "I didn't know if you felt the same, but… I've been wanting to tell you how I feel for a while now." His hands felt warm against your cold ones, a reassuring touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

"But are you sure you want to be with someone like me? I’m a bit damaged,” he confessed, his voice carrying a hint of insecurity. As you shared a tender gaze, his vulnerability spilled out. 

"At the same time… I want to be with you. You keep me grounded, and every day I feel like I'm becoming a better version of myself because of you. But I don’t want to burden you with my baggage."

Your heart swelled with affection as you reached out to cup his face, gently wiping away the traces of doubt etched there. "Leon, I see you, all of you, and I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“Being damaged doesn’t make you any less worthy of love and happiness. We all have our scars and struggles. What matters is that you’re taking steps to heal, to become the best version of yourself. And I want to be there for you, every step of the way.”

At that moment, Leon knew he couldn't let his fears hold him back any longer.

Leon’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours. The world seemed to stand still as he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a passionate heartfelt kiss. His hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to be apart. 

The kiss was intense, filled with all the emotions he couldn’t put into words—  the love, the gratitude, the desire. His lips moved against yours with fervent need, and as you responded, you could feel the weight of his insecurities lifting, replaced by the warmth of your mutual affection. 

Breaking the kiss, Leon scooped you up from your chair with ease, his arms strong and secure around you. He carried you to your bed and gently laid you down, his gaze never leaving yours. The tenderness in his eyes spoke volumes as he caressed your face.

"You mean everything to me, and I want to be the one you can always rely on." He leaned in for another kiss, sealing his promise with the warmth of his embrace. “Just how I can rely on you.”

When Leon's words settled in, you felt a rush of emotion swell in your chest. You reached up, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath your touch and moving down to his neck where his moles were. The tenderness in his eyes was almost overwhelming, and you could see the sincerity behind every word he had spoken.

Leon let out a gasp as your fingers continued their gentle exploration, the touch feeling soft and human against his skin. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone touched him so tenderly. Letting out a sigh of contentment, he buried his face against your neck, inhaling your familiar scent—the comforting mix of laundry detergent and coffee, so wonderfully homey.

“God, you don’t know how much you've softened me.” He chuckled softly, his lips trailing kisses along your neck.

You couldn't help but tease him, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, is that so?" you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. "Big, tough Leon going all soft on me?"

He lifted his head, meeting your gaze with a grin. "Yeah, you have that effect on me," he admitted. "Never thought I'd be saying that."

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. "Well, I kind of like this softer side of you," you teased, your eyes sparkling. "Makes me feel special."

"You are special," Leon whispered, his expression turning serious. "More than you know."

“Leon…I’m ready,” you said, your voice steady but your heart racing.

“Ready for what, sweetheart?” he asked, the endearment rolling off his tongue naturally. He liked how it felt, unlike the generic terms, ‘Babe’ and ‘Baby’ he had used for his past flings when he didn’t bother to remember their names.

“Ready… for you to take my virginity.”

Leon’s eyes widened slightly before he softened, his expression filled with tenderness. "Oh… you're so precious. Not now, okay? I want to take you out on a date first."

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted gently. “I can make you feel good without taking it…do you trust me?”

“I do,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth.

“Then just relax," he said softly. "I’m here, and I’ll gladly help you release your stress.”

Without another word, Leon closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a passionate, desperate kiss — a culmination of months of longing and pent-up desire. All your worries and stress melted away as you sought solace in each other’s embrace.

As the kiss deepened, Leon’s hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer with a strong need to please you. The hunger and longing that had built up over the months drove you both, igniting a fire that burned with an intensity neither of you had ever felt before.

Leon’s fingers deftly found the hem of your sweater, slowly lifting it up and over your head. As your bare skin met the cool air, a wave of shyness washed over you. Instinctively, you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to cover yourself. 

Leon paused, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and gentle reassurance. He reached out, his hands gently removing yours from your chest. “Don’t hide from me,” he whispered, his voice soft but firm. “You’re beautiful, and I want to see all of you.” He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, and you felt your body relax under his touch, trusting him completely.

“Leon…” 

With a reassuring smile, Leon stepped back slightly and grasped the hem of his own shirt. In one smooth motion, he pulled it over his head, revealing the defined lines of his chest, the faint scars that marked his skin, and the tantalising happy trail leading down from his naval.

“See? Nothing to be shy about.” Leon had come so far, enduring countless battles, to reach this moment of vulnerability and softness with you.

You nodded, your cheeks flushing at the sight of his happy trail peeking through his sweatpants. His lips, slightly swollen from your shared kisses, only added to the heat coursing through you. The mere thought of kissing him had you feeling an ache between your legs — maybe those cringy scenes in films about virgin sex aren’t so fake after all. As you squeezed your thighs together unconsciously, he chuckled softly and gently pulled them apart.

"You okay there?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

You laughed nervously, trying to mask your embarrassment. "Yeah, just... overwhelmed, I guess."

Leon's chuckle deepened. "I'd say that's a good sign," he teased, his fingers tracing a soothing pattern on your thigh. "But let's take it slow, okay?"

Leon's fingers trailed along the curve of your thigh, a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine. "Have you ever... touched yourself before?" he asked softly.

Your breath caught in your throat at his question, the sensation of his touch combined with the intimacy of his inquiry making your heart race. "Um, well... yeah," you replied hesitantly, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks.

Leon's touch became even more tender, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he leaned in closer. "Tell me about it," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "I want to know everything."

“I... I just use my fingers,” you confessed, feeling a little embarrassed by the simplicity of your answer. You found yourself rambling about the prices of sex toys and how impractical they seemed, but Leon's attention was elsewhere as he trailed his fingers down to your clothed heat.

With unabashed hunger, he traced his fingertips over the fabric shielding your wetness, sending shivers through you. He moved lower, his mouth finding your inner thighs, licking and biting gently, his breath hot against your skin.

As you continued to ramble with hitched breaths, Leon nodded along, occasionally responding with a thoughtful "hmm" here and there. His lips pressed against your clothed mound and his tongue piercing tracing circles over the fabric. Each teasing lick and swirling motion sent shivers coursing through your body.

“Leon, fuck,” you moaned, bucking your hips toward his face.

His lips curled into a wicked smirk as he slid down your underwear, revealing your glistening folds. His tongue darted out, flicking against your swollen clit while his hands moved to your hips, holding you in place.

Leon savoured the taste of your arousal, relishing how you quivered beneath him, desperate for more. His lips closed around your clit, sucking gently while his tongue worked in skilled motions. As your moans filled the room, he intensified his assault, his tongue delving deeper and applying more pressure.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against your slick folds, his voice filled with possessiveness. “My special sweetheart.” With a playful yet firm touch, he lightly slapped your clit, eliciting a gasp from you.

Your breath hitched at Leon's possessive words and instinctively, wrapped your legs around his head, pulling him closer and squeezing them together in response. The sensation of his tongue and lips working so intimately against you, combined with the pressure of your thighs around him, heightened the intensity of your pleasure.

“Leon!” you babbled his name like a prayer as he worked his tongue on you. Each flick and swirl of his tongue made you tremble, the overwhelming sensation almost too much to bear. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white, as you surrendered to him.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, Leon started to grind himself against the mattress. His sweatpants strained against his growing erection. He could feel the dampness of his pre-cum soaking through the fabric, each grind intensifying the need coursing through him. His cock strained painfully against the confines of his pants, desperate for release as he focused on bringing you to the edge of ecstasy.

Your breathing grew ragged, and you could feel the tightening coil of release building within you. Instinctively, your hands flew to his head, gripping his hair tightly as you arched your back, your body seeking more of his touch. The sharp tug made Leon grunt, a deep, guttural sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. 

Despite the pain, he refused to relent, his determination evident in the way he continued to devour you. His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as his tongue and lips worked with relentless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy, refusing to let you go.

Finally, with a shuddering gasp, you surrendered to the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal bliss. Leon held you through it all, refusing to let you go until you were utterly undone beneath him, lost in the euphoria of the moment.

As you lay there, panting and trembling, Leon parted from your cunt, his chin and lips glistening with your release. He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes, before tenderly kissing your clit. "You taste so sweet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I could devour you all night."

Your cheeks heated up due to his remarks, a turbulent rush of feelings that filled your senses with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. Under the intensity of his gaze, you quivered, feeling another desire surge through you again.

Leon leaned back, his eyes never leaving yours as he spat on your cunt, the warm liquid mixing with your own arousal. He clumsily peeled off his sweatpants, revealing his hard, straining cock. He positioned himself between your legs, pushing your thighs together to create a tight, plush space.

With a low groan, Leon began to stroke himself between your thighs, the friction against your slick skin sending jolts of pleasure through him. Each thrust caused his piercing to occasionally bump against your clit, sending thrilling shocks through your body and making you gasp with the unexpected sensation.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, his eyes fixated on the scandalous sight before him — the view of his reddened and swollen tip emerging from the clutch of your thighs. 

You were certain Leon would leave bruises on your thighs from the way he was gripping them. “I’m gonna... gonna—shit,” Leon whimpered, quickening his pace. His thrusts became urgent and forceful, driven by an insatiable hunger for release. The air was filled with the sound of your moans and the slap of skin against skin. He leaned over you, shifting into a mating press with your legs squished to your chest and his balls slapping against your ass.

With a few more thrusts, Leon succumbed to the pleasure, his body tensing as he spilt himself between your thighs and stomach. Waves of ecstasy washed over him, and he continued to move, riding out his orgasm with a mix of intense relief and satisfaction. His body trembled with aftershocks and his breathing erratic as he slowly descended from the high.

As Leon collapsed beside you, panting and spent, he realised that you hadn't come for the second time. He then shifted his position, propping himself up on one elbow as he glanced down at your flushed form. Seeing the need still evident in your eyes, he gently brushed his fingers over your slick folds, seeking out your swollen clit.

"Let me take care of you again," he cooed as he began to rub gentle circles over your sensitive bud. With each stroke, he felt your body respond, the tension building once more as you whimpered and writhed beneath his touch.

Leon focused entirely on bringing you to the peak of pleasure, his movements deliberate and precise as he pushed you closer to the edge. Your moans grew louder, and your hips bucked against his hand, signalling how near you were to release. With a shuddering gasp, you finally reached your climax. Leon’s grip was steady as you trembled beneath him, lost in the overwhelming euphoria.

He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before slipping out of bed. "I'll be right back," he whispered, leaving the room momentarily to grab a warm, damp towel. Returning swiftly, he carefully wiped away the sweat and traces of cum from your skin.

Once he finished, he picked up your discarded sweater from the floor and slipped it over your shoulders, ensuring you were comfortable. You nestled into its warmth as Leon retrieved his own sweatpants and pulled them on.

Returning to your side, he asked softly, "Feeling better?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you snuggled closer to him. "Yeah, much better. Thanks for taking care of me."

He smiled back, his eyes filled with affection, and gently massaged the nape of your neck. "How was the aftercare? It's my first time doing it."

You chuckled softly. "Honestly, I can't say much about it since I don't have any experience either."

Leon laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Guess we're both new at this. Maybe I should include 'aftercare specialist' on my résumé."

You grinned, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, but only if I get to be your reference."

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Deal."

Pics are from pinterest and edited by: @roseglazedlens

Dividers by: @chachachannah

[diejager]

wondering how doesn't reader get pregnant after a lot of action with both horangi and könig, especially when König prefers to breed reader rather than his wife.

also do they have breeding kink? and what would be reader's reaction if there's a possibility of pregnancy, that would be so dramatic ig coming from reader's mom.

I hope this answered your question! cw: breeding kink, drug replacement?, mention of abortion, forced pregnancy, mention of stalkholm syndrome, tell me if I missed any.

The answer is simple: you either take pills, or got an IUD installed (honestly, that’s what I have since I have so many friends who’ve told me that pills have bothersome side effects and I’m forgetful so I won’t be able to remember to take them every day.).

A) If you take pills, König will replace them with a placebo, he has his ways, relationships built on years of work and alliance. So it wouldn’t be hard for him to find someone who can produce placebos for your birth control. Since he’s made a habit of staying near you whenever he can, seeing as he’s retired, it would be weird if he went out for so long. He has Horangi pick it up, meeting with the agent who’s sent to give them a year worth of box.

B) If you had an IUD installed, he’ll search your room for that little card it comes with when you’re not home, look at the date and he has two options. 1) if he doesn’t want to wait the time, be it a year or two, anything between one and five, he’ll talk to you about taking it out. 2) if he can wait, he’ll use the time to break you in, let you settle with this relationship and get you used to the dynamic they have in mind. Patience is a virtue after all, like a little pet project of theirs.

They definitely have a breeding kink. Ironically enough, they’re family men, a bit rough on the edges and tactile in their ways, very touchy-feely. They like to be hands on, holding you down as they fill you up, fingers bruising your skin with brands, to let people - and you - that you belong to them. König might be fidgety, never being one to sit still and do nothing, but he is patient, like a predator in hiding. Horangi’s a tiger in a hunt, slow and steady steps, certainty exhuming from every decision he takes. They don’t make a decision without telling the other, Horangi and König are a team, they were and always will.

Whichever contraceptive you took, it wouldn’t mater much in the end, you’d end up with morning nausea and a positive on your test. You’re in tears, balling your eyes out and panicking, breathe rapid and shallow, near hysteric as your mind goes through all the different scenarios of what ifs. You might’ve laughed at the ridiculousness of your situation, pregnant with the child of your stepfather or your neighbour. What would your family think? Your mother who’s oblivious and ignores your cries for help; your father who didn’t know where wen after your mom indefinitely cut your contact; or your living grandparents that lives God knows where.

Unlike you, hysteric and frantically searching for a solution to your problem, König is excited, calling Horangi to tell him the great news of your pregnancy. He has a smile on his lips when he finds you, shushing your tears and cooing soft praises. König tells you what a good mother you’d be, what a responsible Stay-at-home mother, with gentle hands and loving lips. When Horangi’s here, he picks you up, holding you in his arms and peppers you in kisses, a few deep, feverish ones, full of passion, and a few wild ones on the corner of yours lips and your cheeks.

Your mother is less frantic than you, worried, but not panicking. As a mother, she’ll ask about the pregnancy, who the father is (knowing you weren’t one to sleep around), and help you. You’re embarrassed at yourself, unable to tell her that the two men in the room are the kid’s father. You’re silent, head bowed down in shame and fidgeting, anxious and terrified, you were in your army 20’s, still in University to finish your bachelor’s degrees and now you’re pregnant. Horangi steps up, telling her that you’ve been having relationships with him - excluding the fact that her husband had a hand in everything as well - in occasions. She’s seen how close you are with Horangi, nearly sitting on his lap at times and often seen in his company.

She’s supportive, ignorent of all the mess in your life. Granted, she’s a bit disappointed, but you’re an adult, she can’t dictate your life like her parents did to her. So all she can do is support you, take l’ombre time off to walk you through the basics of parenthood and the nausea and emotional rollercoaster a pregnancy brought. You want to tear your hair out from the roots down at how oblivious your mother is, but you’re scared of getting an abortion, or if it’s legal at all.

Your angry, stressed and panicked, emotions flaring up with your unfortunate situation with no one to talk to, to turn to, all you want to do is cry. What can you do when you have an ignorant mother and two possessive and criminally wrong men with bloody hands and unrestrained connections.

Tag list: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

[broodybuck]

Title: The Boy Next Door

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, childhood friends, neighbors, pining, confessions, friends to lovers, first crush

Summary: Growing up, you always had a crush on the boy next door. Now, twelve years later, you might unexpectedly get your chance with Bucky Barnes.

[ao3 link]

Your parents just handed over the house you grew up in. It was that easy, now it's yours.

They want to be those typical, retired parents and move to Florida — boring! And since you've been renting a studio in Brooklyn for the past four years, you jumped at the chance to have a three-bedroom house in upstate New York. It's already paid off and your parents are wealthy enough, they don't need the earnings for their Florida condo.

You've only been back to your childhood home for holidays in the past few years. Everything has stayed the same, your parents were actually one of the few who didn't turn their daughter's bedroom into a home office or gym. They left the pink wallpaper, the twin bed with the floral comforter, and the tower of stuffed animals on the dresser.

When you arrive with your two suitcases and some extra cash in your pocket since you sold all your studio furniture, you stare up at the house. You smile from the warm memories before you glance over at the house next door.

An older boy named James lived there, but he always went by Bucky. Bucky Barnes is the name that lived in your diary for most of your adolescence. He was four years older than you which meant you had an embarrassing crush on him since you were twelve. He was nice, he always teased you when you saw each other, he even acknowledged your existence for the one year you were both in high school together — you as a freshman and him a senior.

That did wonders for your reputation, you became pretty popular even after he graduated. Still, you would've thrown away all the friends and parties for just one night with Bucky if that was a possibility.

You're not sure you ever got over your crush, more just accepted that it was never going to happen and moved on with your life. It was easy once he went away from college and three years later so did you. You never ran into him again even when you were visiting home for the holidays. It seems the Barnes' residence spent their holidays elsewhere as the house was always dark on those occasions.

Currently, it's two in the afternoon and the sun is beating down so strongly, you start to take off your jean jacket. You're sliding your arms out of the sleeves when a familiar voice makes you jump.

"Hey, y/n."

Your arms flap uncoordinatedly, still half in the jacket, pausing in an awkward position as you turn to see your childhood crush standing a few feet away from you. Bucky Barnes, looking sexier than ever.

"Oh, hi,” you splutter.

This man still has the ability to make you blush like a schoolgirl. You do some quick mental math and realize if you’re 27 now then he must be 31. And why do men age so spectacularly? He has somehow managed to become even more attractive in the last twelve years.

"What're you doing here?" you ask as you finally free your arms from the jacket.

"I'm house-sitting," Bucky explains. "What're you doing here?"

"Um, well, the house is sorta mine now."

"Parents gave you the whole thing?"

"Yep, the whole thing," you nod.

"Wow, congrats on the house," Bucky says.

"Thank you," you reply and you both stare at each other in a beat of silence.

"Um actually, since you're around, do you think I could pay you for some manual labor?" you ask suddenly.

"What kind?" Bucky grins fast. It truly takes your breath away, jesus this man should not be allowed to smile.

"I have a dumpster coming tomorrow morning," you explain. "I'm getting rid of my childhood bedroom furniture."

"Yeah, I can help."

"That would be so great, I'll pay you—"

"Don't sweat it. Just treat me to dinner sometime," Bucky shrugs, and your stomach drops. What in the world does he mean by that... like a dinner date?

"Oh, dinner... yeah, okay. You got it," you play it cool and awkward.

He smiles at you, amused.

"Anyway..." you mumble unsure how to retract yourself from this conversation, unsure if you even want to.

"You really grew up, huh?" Bucky says, and he scans you up and down.

"I guess so," you shrug, your face burning. "You too."

"Yeah, guess we haven't seen each other in..."

He appears to be trying to calculate the years but you unabashedly jump in with an exact answer.

"Twelve years."

"Has it been that long?" he asks.

"I... think so," you feign uncertainty.

"So, what time do you need me tomorrow?" he asks.

"Oh, anytime that works for you."

"How about noon?"

"Perfect."

Asking for Bucky's help might've been the worst idea you ever had. When he comes over, he's wearing a cotton-white t-shirt and jeans. His hair is damp and slicked back from a shower. He looks so comfy, it makes you imagine waking up with him. You yearn to know how warm his skin feels fresh from the steam.

You ignore your inappropriate desires and lead him up the stairs to your old room. It's then you realize how many years of your life you desperately wanted to show him your room. Have your crush see these walls, sit on your bed, and make out with you next to your teddy bear.

It's embarrassing but probably every teenage girl wanted the same thing. Unfortunately, the thought slips out of you with a laugh.

"I always wanted to show you my room."

You freeze in the doorway, realizing what you've just said out loud.

"What?" Bucky asks from behind you.

"When I was younger, I meant. I didn't mean... I don't know why I said that, actually."

You turn around and see the look of amused confusion on his face, a small smirk inching from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, fuck it. I had a major crush on you," you confess.

Bucky's eyebrows lift high.

"Yeah?"

"You couldn't tell?"

"I thought you were just awkward with everyone," he shrugs.

"Great, so you thought I was a total loser," you sigh.

"No..." he says quickly but takes a second to elaborate. "If it helps, I didn't think about you that way 'cause you were too young for me."

"Of course, you never thought about me," you brush off, trying not to let your younger self die too much inside.

You step into the room to create any amount of space from this conversation. But you instantly remember the countless hours you spent in here thinking about him. Staring out the window at his family's house hoping the catch a glimpse of him.

"Hey," Bucky says. His hand gently touches your shoulder.

You turn around to meet his eyes which oddly look darker, more intense now.

"I could see myself thinking about you now," he admits low.

You blink, your mouth is suddenly too dry to respond.

"I mean... look at you," he says so fondly that your heart could burst. And he looks you over again, his pupils dilating even more.

Is this really happening, you think.

His right hand hasn't moved from your shoulder. Boldly, you place a hand on his left forearm and you're right, his skin is still warm from the shower.

You breathe in sharply because just touching him, just standing this close for this long is something you were never lucky enough to get back then.

His eyes are still locked with yours and it's honestly so intense you can't look away even as you see him dip his head, lowering slowly to your lips. He waits, an inch from them, to see if this is okay. Of course, it's fucking okay.

You surge the last inch forward and kiss him harder than you anticipate. He stumbles a step back, in consequence grabbing onto your waist, and pushing forward. He walks you back toward the twin bed up against the wall.

When you fall back onto the mattress, it creaks from old age, but you couldn't care less. Because Bucky Barnes, your childhood crush, the extremely attractive neighbor next door, is crawling over you. And it's glorious, it's enough to make you arch up into him and moan.

He lets out a breathy laugh and then kisses you, his knee slides between your legs and presses down. You moan even louder. You're completely shameless, you are, but this is Bucky Barnes. You're not staying quiet for a second of this.

His mouth moves to your ear and he's kissing down your neck while his fingers slip under your shirt, rolling it up.

Your shirt is off and then you're pants are coming off too. You want to get him out of his clothes but his mouth finds the front of your panties and he's teasing you, mouthing at the fabric.

"Please," you whine.

He grins against your underwear and then slides the thin fabric off and sucks his thumb into his mouth.

When he touches you, he's not gentle. He goes right in and rubs your clit roughly but you're so turned on that it's like a jolt of electricity to your body, you leap up from the mattress.

He licks two fingers then and sinks them right inside you. Oh god, it's so easy because you're so wet.

"Fuck," he mutters, realizing this. He stares down, watching his fingers work inside you. Your skin boils endlessly.

He doesn't need to spend much time working you open and he must know that because it's not long before he pulls his fingers out and hurriedly works the button of his jeans open. He pulls open the fly and pushes them down when you sit up to get his shirt. You're not letting this happen without seeing that gorgeous chest again.

You remember so many summer nights when you got a glimpse of Bucky shirtless. Running through the sprinkles or coming home from a neighbor's pool. He was stunning, even back then, but now... oh lord, now he's filled out. He has a firm, thick chest and a set of perfect abs lining his torso. Because of course, he has a six-pack, you always fall for the most unattainable guys.

But somehow you have him, right here, in your very old, tiny twin bed.

You want to lick a long strip from his navel up to his neck but he doesn't give you the chance. Once his clothes are off, he pulls your legs over his waist and pushes inside you so fast you barely have time to prepare. You cling to him with your whole body, legs and arms. And you moan low.

"Oh god, you're so tight," he husks.

You tighten your hold around his neck, he looks up at you and kisses you. You're basically on his lap so start rolling your hips slowly, getting used to how big he feels inside you.

You push him back until he lies down. And then you're riding him. You're riding Bucky Barnes in your childhood bedroom on top of your pink comforter with yellow flowers.

This is your teenage dream come true and that realization plows through you, making you ride him even harder, snapping your hips as fast as you can over his cock. And it's enough that you get a moan out of him, a low gravelly groan that you immediately fawn over.

His fingertips dig into your skin as you keep riding him fast and hard. You know you're nearing the edge, your head falls with a whimper, you grip his shoulders tighter.

"Fuck, y/n. Come for me," he breathes.

And you lose all control the moment you hear that. Fuck, you come so hard.

"Oohhh, fuckkk," you wail and stop moving to let the orgasm crash through you.

Then his hands lift your ass, just enough so he can raise his hips and start fucking into you.

"Jesus," you hiss and scramble to hold onto him again.

He keeps fucking you, gaining speed and making your eyes roll back from the fact that your orgasm can't wane with his cock repeatedly slamming right into you.

He groans, squeezing the flesh on your ass now and you can tell he's close.

He curses under his breath and then he's coming and still fucking you so hard your vision's blurring.

When he finally slows down, he blows out a long breath. He releases his grip on your ass and closes his eyes, basking in the aftermath of his orgasm.

You can feel his cock twitch one last time inside you. You carefully try to pull off him. He winces as you do, still sensitive. You lean down and kiss him, you can't help yourself.

He smiles when you break to let him catch his breath. Okay, he's totally allowed to smile when he's naked in your bed, you decide. You admire the sight for as long as he lets you.

"Well, fuck," he laughs.

"Yeah, fuck," you agree, smiling. "Not sure if I should thank you for your help yet."

He laughs. "I haven't done anything yet."

"Oh, you've done plenty," you tease and plant another kiss on his lips.

He smirks at you and runs his hands up your sides, gentle and light.

"I'll help you move the furniture," he says. "Just give me a few minutes."

"Yeah, I need a few too," you say. "At least this bed is going out with a bang."

And you both laugh. Then you look at him and already remember what he said to you yesterday. You remember almost every word he's ever uttered to you.

"So, about that dinner," you say.

He smiles wide and just kisses you.

[dear-ao3]

hey wait im also new to f1 but i saw the other ask and i was curious abt what you meant when you said no one will ever do it like nico rosberg?? also retiring after your first championship win is insane lmao what a power move

nico rosberg is just. he’s insane. he’s cunty. he’s wonderful. he possesses sass and audacity unlike any other. we unfortunately do not have time to get into his whole story (my lunch break is only so long) but here’s some highlights:

-technically he’s a nepo baby. his dad, keke rosberg, won the world championship in 1982 and they remain one of the Few father son duos to both win a world championship (don’t ask me who the others are idk but i know they exist)

-he and lewis hamilton met when they were kids in the late 90s sometime and were gokarting teammates at some point in i think the early 2000s? (not fact checking i don’t have the time rn) and they were Besties. they’ve talked about this before, mostly in older interviews, but the gist is that both of them were outcasts from the other karting kid in opposite ways (nico was the son of a champion and rich and lewis was from nothing and pretty much the only poc most of the time) and that drew them together and they were Menaces according to legend. everything was a competition and they trashed hotel rooms and ate pizza and ice cream and kellogg frosties and went to greece and dreamed of being in f1 together

-nico signed with williams in 2006. his teammate was mark webber. and nico had long flowing blonde hair (this is important). he crashed at one race and mark webber said “britney’s in the wall” cementing the nickname britney, like britney spears. jenson button (another driver) said later on that they called nico britney because he was “very pretty” (do with that what you will)

-he was just. insane. cunty. constantly looked like a european bond villain. wore god awful shoes. whole bit. once he stayed in his car when it got craned off the track cause he didn’t want his hair to get wet. which is insane cause he’s wearing a helmet it would have gotten equally as not wet had he gotten out.

-anyway, lewis made it to f1 in 2007 and they had their first podium together i think that year (?) and it’s cute and fun and oh boy you’re not ready for what these two have coming

-lewis won the championship in 2008 (but he almost won in 2007, his rookie year) at mclaren.

-nico went to mercedes when they recentered the grid in 2010. his teammate was michael schumacher, who was fresh out of retirement. (yes the michael schumacher, 7x world champion). michael fucked with nico endlessly according to legend, including making him piss in a bucket pre race because he would hog the bathroom until the last possible second. nico still out preformed him most of the time, and the car was mid as hell.

-michael retired part 2 at the end of 2012. and who replaced him but lewis hamilton

-so the two of them were teammates again. the cards were absolute Stacked against them. because yes they were besties yes they’d known eachother forever but the first person you’re judged against is your teammate. and you’re trying to beat your teammate. and lewis already had a championship. nico wanted a championship.

-2013 was relatively chill. the car was kinda mid. they did well but not fantastic and did some fuck ass pr (highly reccomend looking those videos up)

-2014 they had a car that could win. and they started fighting eachother for wins. they played all kinds of mind games against eachother and withheld stats and nico ran illegal engine modes (supposedly) and lewis said they were no longer friends after nico supposedly wrecked his monaco qualifying one year but they claimed they still supported eachother and were friends off track. lewis won in 2014 and in 2015. but nico was right behind him and he wanted to win a championship, he didn’t want to be a number 2 driver

-so in 2016 nico did some insane shit. he stopped sleeping with his wife so that he could get better sleep or something, he did weird things to cut weight, he basically did everything and then some to win. and then he did. he won the championship and then at the prize giving ceremony announced he was retiring. he didn’t tell lewis this.

more after i get off work :)

[bunnys-kisses]

may I perchance have some blueberry muffins w a side of mocha coffee? maybe with fernando or oscar 😋😋

bakery menu

if you want to order a dessert for yourself, follow the link to the original post! as for this lovely anon, thank you for the request, i chose fernando because i've gotten quite a few for oscar already and wanted to shake things up! but i promise he's a lovely server too!

blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by fernando alonso (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, size kink, girlfriend!reader, pregnancy, semi-public sex

fernando was a good lover. a good boyfriend, he loved the sight of you. you were just so perfect for him. and yet, you still surprised him at every turn. 

  “i want a baby.” you said over morning coffee. fernando almost choked on his breakfast at the statement. a baby? like a mini alonso running around? the thought made him give you a look and you responded, “fernando, you and i aren't getting any younger. you keep talking about wanting to retire eventually, so why not grow our little family.” you gave him a sweet smile. 

he was a sucker for your smile, it was like witnessing a sunrise when you beamed at him. like being greeted with warmth. he could never deny his beautiful girlfriend anything. you did however have a point, you two weren't getting any younger. and while you were younger than him, his was in his forties. and at a certain point a father can't really be a father if he's too old.

the idea of you pregnant however, softened the blow of the request. his precious girlfriend coming to the paddock with her lovely swollen middle on display for the rest of them to see. you already were quite the looker with a friendly personality to match! 

he couldn't say no, that was why he said to you, your hand in his, “yes, of course.” 

-

you were nothing if not determined. when you got your mind put to something, you see it till the end. and that meant trying every attempt you could to get yourself pregnant. now fernando wondered in his youth what it would be like to have a beautiful woman constantly want to have sex with him, it felt like a dream.  but maybe it was age or the wear and tear from years of driving, but to have a beautiful younger woman constantly touching him left him with a sore back and aching balls. 

don't get him wrong, he'd happily make love to you every time you asked. but, when you were happily riding him in his driver's room right before a race. he thought his head was going to explode. 

it was dutch grand prix and fernando was getting himself organized in his driver's room when he heard a knock on the door. he called for the person to come in and was greeted by the sweet sound of your voice. 

  “you know, you always looked good in your driver's suit.” 

he smiled at you, “and how are you, mi amor?” he came over to you and wrapped his arms around you. he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, “wishing me good luck?” 

you played with the zipper of his suit and replied, “well, i always love seeing the love of my life right before a race. you also looked so handsome even with the helmet off.” you laughed a little before you kissed him once more, “plus.” you leaned in a little bit and whispered in his ear, “i think we have some time before you have to go win the grand prix for me.”

  “time?” he asked.

you giggled, “yeah.” you raised your skirt a little bit to show off your sweet cunt to your boyfriend, “i told you, i was taking this seriously.”

fernando relaxed a little on the couch and raised his eyebrows at you, “oh really? right before a race, mi amor?”

you nodded and watched your boyfriend sit down on the couch and get his cock out of his pants. he stroked it as he looked at you. he watched you get out of your skirt and underwear. just to make it a lot easier because that skirt was quite long. seeing you bottom half nude made his mouth dry for a moment. 

he relaxed a little bit and took you by the hips. you covered your mouth with your hand and slowly sank down on his cock. your heart raced at the feeling of his length buried inside of you. your heart fluttered as you felt his cock nudged against your pussy. you clenched your jaw as you finally started to fully sink down on his cock. but you had to go slow, for the stretch was a lot. 

  “pretty girl.” he purred, “you're so determined to get your lover to get you pregnant.” his cock throbbed a little bit, “you want an alonso running around the place? getting into all kinds of trouble? you want to be a mother to all my children?”

you nodded and pulled your hand away to hold onto his shoulders, “i don't think it'll fit.” you said.

"well, if it can't fit then you can't get pregnant." he said. he knew it could fit, but it took a lot to get you fully seated on him. he massaged your hips to help you relax before he fully got you seated on his cock. he peppered your face with kisses, "see. it fit."

you whined a little at the fullest in your pussy. you tried so hard to keep yourself composed as to not cause a scene. but your boyfriend's voice was in your ear.

"that's a good girl. you want to be mrs. alonso, the happy mother of my children. you've been trying so hard, mi amor." he laughed as he groped at your breasts, playing with your nipples between his fingers, "such a pretty girl."

you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you rocked your hips. your body was starting to crave his cum, the feeling of his cock into of your sweet pussy. you yearned for it ALL.

fernando was an amazing lover, he always knew what you needed. even if he knew there would be a little pain on him when he had to race. watching you on top of him, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone as you have his entire cock in you.

he held you face and kissed you softly, "i'm surprised you didn't ask sooner. your sweet pussy wants me so badly. i bet while i was away you were constantly thinking about me. having me get you nice and full with my children."

your cunt clenched around his hard cock as you started to move faster. the pleasure coursed through your body as you moved. your pretty tits bounced so nicely for him. his eyes lingered on them for a moment, wishing that he could've taken your shirt off too.

but now wasn't the time, it was going to have to wait until you got back to the hotel room.

"i know you'll make a great mama for my babies.' he chuckled, "keep you nice and busy making sure they're all taken care of. give those future drivers a run for their money." he beamed at you.

you kissed him once more and really worked your hips against his cock. you panted and moaned softly against his lips and felt the heat wash over you. you needed him so badly.

and he needed you more than anything. you were so perfect for him. he could feel the heat course through his body, only made worse by the amount of layers he was wearing.

"please." you said, "cum in me."

"always, mi amor." he said as he stationed both hands on your hips to really get deep in you. his cock really hit against every of your softest parts. you felt like you were on cloud nine, but you couldn't drift off. you had a job to finish.

the pace was erratic, but you were both clawing at the chance to finish.

"i'm going to be such a good man for you. you're going to be doing all this hard work to raise my children. i might as well make sure that i am taking care of you return. my precious girl." he groaned as he shoved you down on his cock a few times and finished inside of you.

you clasped your hands over your mouth once more to keep yourself from being far too loud. this wasn't your private home. this was in fact almost a public space and now it reeked of your rabbit-like fucking.

you both came at the same time and you slowed your pace down to a soft stop. then you just laid your head on your boyfriend's shoulder for a moment to compose yourself. your hands knotted in the fabric of his driver's suit.

he held you by the back of your head and showered your face in kissed. "that was good." he panted, the heat was heavy in his body. he'd need some water to cool off soon.

you nodded, "yes, perfect." you got off his cock with a wet noise and made a soft moaning noise. it was almost cute.

he didn't want to think about the possibility of your wetness or his cum staining the fabric of his driver's suit. he wiped the sweat off his forehead and relaxed onto the couch. he felt you rub your pussy up against his softening cock. he loved his girlfriend and even though he got into the car with a bit of back pain, his heart was yours. 

-

  “mrs. alonso! mrs. alonso!” one of the pa's for the team your husband drove for was following behind you, “oh my god, how can a six month pregnant woman walk this fast.”

the poor pa was in charge of making sure that the very pregnant wife of fernando alonso was safe and not getting herself into trouble (something you'd deny you ever did!)

fernando was standing with lance when he caught the sight of you approaching. he chuckled and waved to the pa before he went to grab you in his arms. he wrapped them around your shoulders and pressed a kiss on your temple. “what are you doing?”

  “i wanted to see you before the race, you were taking too long.” you joked as you leaned in to kiss him on the lips. he chuckled against your touch before you pulled away, “i wanted to wish you good luck.”

fernando placed a hand on your middle and gave it a good rub. he said, “i'm sorry, mi amor.” he kissed your forehead once more, “now why don't you get comfortable before the race happens. no need to worry about me.” he kissed you again. 

you replied, “fine, but you better do well, mister alonso.” 

he smiled back his (newly wed) and said, “of course, for you and for our son.” it was a bit of a shock that fernando seemed to be doing better in his final season before retirement!

[mononijikayu]

say so — nanami kento.

As you looked at him, you knew that he knew that. But he was only human. It wasn’t easy to not be swayed by human doubts and impulse. You never faulted him for that. If anything, it made you fall in love with him over and over again.  Because your Kento was both sides of the coin of human life. And you embrace it, more than you could ever imagine. Love is just that way. You knew that to be true. You stepped closer, your hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, grounding him. “Kento, I want you. Only you.” you said, your voice filled with the sincerity you hoped he could feel. “I want you more than anything. Because you’re my life. My oxygen. My everything.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Post-Shibuya Arc, R-18, Smut, Fingering, P to V Sex, Passionate Sex, Pet Names (My Love, Baby), Romance, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Nanami, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Drama, Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Jealousy, Teasing, Fix-It, Humor, Domesticity, Family Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Pining, Nanami Being A Great Husband, Nanami Kento is FATHER™️;

WORDS: 9.5k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: nanami won my poll again!!! hurray!!! here's tmi about this - thiis was half way finished when i came back to write it, but then i got sick again and i started writing this more differently than my direction. i got frustrated so i stopped for a while then i forgot about it and then i wanted to finish it.

oh, also kento and you speak danish at home, because you both feel like a secret language between you and him. gojo is also retired — thats going to be in us and them!!! thank you so much for waiting!!! thank you for reading too!!! i love you all !!! see you in the gojo fic (second place) <3

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next: little wonders

HE THOUGHT THAT HE WOULD ALWAYS BE NONCHALANT. Nanami Kento never thought he’d be the type to get jealous. After all, he prided himself on being calm and composed, grounded in logic.

But lately, things have changed. You had changed—or rather, something about you had. At least that’s what he noticed now that you’ve come back to Tokyo, so he could become a mentor to the kids with Gojo’s retirement. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Nanami Kento had finally left the endless grind of Jujutsu society, traded the blood and curses for a quiet life in Malaysia, far from the threat of battle.

But when he got that call, it felt like the past had come clawing back, unwilling to let him go. Itadori Yuji’s name on Gojo’s lips stirred something within him—something old, duty-bound, and unwilling to see an innocent youth, especially one with Yuji’s heart, left adrift.

Gojo Satoru's concern was about more than just Yuji, though. Nanami listened as the retired special grade sorcerer, sitting on a cruise across the globe, rattled off frustrations with the new leadership at Jujutsu High and Jujutsu society as a whole. All of it having formed with what he had known from his contacts back at hom.

At the center of it was Usami. That man, the strongest of all first class sorcerers, Usami, who never defied the higher-ups, who prioritized orders and tradition over compassion, whose unfeeling approach Gojo had seen all too often among those aligned with the elders.

Nanami Kento knew the type. They were the very people he’d worked so hard to avoid throughout his career, the type who saw Jujutsu sorcerers as tools more than as people, especially the students.

Now, with Gojo’s absence, Usami had stepped into a more central role at Jujutsu High, and Gojo wasn’t comfortable with it. Why would he? He’s still supporting the remaining conservative factions in Jujutsu High.

There was no other way to feel about it other than this, but concern. The return of a conservative faction, under Gakuganji, would stifle Gojo’s gambles these past few years. Gambles Kento had agreed with, even if not wholeheartedly. 

“I don’t want him making decisions for my students, you know? I’m sure you agree about that with me too.” Gojo said bluntly, his tone carrying the usual lazy confidence but undercut by a genuine concern. “They’ve been through enough. They deserve someone who understands them.” 

Kento could hear Gojo's frustration; it was an unusual tone in the voice of someone who otherwise seemed to brush off his troubles. And in that sentiment, Nanami found himself nodding in agreement. It didn’t sit well with him, either. But what could he do? He is retired now, isn't he? There was no need for this chatter.

Gojo, as though reading his hesitation, chuckled knowingly over the line. “Look, I’m technically retired too, Nanami. I know your feelings about this.” he said with that familiar cheek in his voice. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t meddle. Keeps me busy as I get old, you know? Gojo clan head is empty without any drama.” 

There was a pause, and Kento didn’t know what to say. Gojo Satoru, even in their younger years, used his status to continue to advocate for his interests. And Kento didn’t like it as much, he was someone who liked rules, after all.

Even if he agreed with them, he thinks about the context of propriety. But he knows the soul of Gojo’s argument. He agrees with that. Gojo’s voice softened on the other line.

“Don’t you ever want to keep busy too? I mean, especially when your wife’s at her job? You’re both still in the thick of it, in your own ways. Being a house husband doesn’t always satisfy the itch. Before you rebuttal, you know I’m not lying. ”

Nanami sighed. Gojo’s words struck a nerve. He’s not wrong. Genmei–san also works still, helping out at temples when she has the time. Most of the time, if they weren’t on holiday, it would be Gojo waiting at home and taking care of their children. For a moment, Nanami sat down to think about it properly. 

You were deeply invested in your work as a novelist. You adore it, you truly do. But often, it’s hard for you to deal with. You were just as much an independent person in your own right and that was your own mission, your own purpose.

He admired you for that, but there were times when he found himself wondering about his place. He adores taking care of you, he adores being by your side all the time. He adores being your house–husband. 

But he often questions, besides that, away from the frontline, away from Jujutsu, what was his purpose now? Was he truly content to let the world of sorcery continue without him, even if it meant leaving those like Yuji to struggle without guidance? Or the kids? What can he do for them? What can he do now?

“Fine, Gojo.” Nanami finally muttered. “I’ll look into it. Just… don’t get used to this.” He could practically hear Gojo’s grin over the line, a smug sort of satisfaction that Nanami knew all too well.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Gojo replied smoothly in response. “But I’ll admit, it’s good to have you back, even if just for a little while.”

And so, he tried to muster the courage to tell you about what he had agreed to. Dinner was a warm, familiar ritual together. And by the beachside in Kuantan, everything about it was a wonder to behold.

The sounds of clinking plates and gentle conversation filled the room, and the two of you settled into the ease of being home together, savoring the evening without the rush of tomorrow hanging over you. 

You were halfway through telling him about something small that had happened during your day at the market when he cleared his throat, a subtle shift in his usual, deliberate movements. His fingers, wrapped around his glass, seemed to tighten slightly. You looked at him a little bit confused. 

“There’s something I need to tell you, my love.” he began, meeting your gaze with a calm determination. "I’ve decided… to return to Tokyo." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before he continued. "Jujutsu High needs someone to look after the first years. With Gojo retired, things are… in flux."

You blinked, feeling a jolt of surprise, but before you could fully react, he was already explaining, his tone quickening just a touch, as if he’d anticipated your questions. It was rare for your husband to be this way, to ramble about and have his bright brown eyes shake as he looked at you with a shaken uncertainty. But you know when he becomes this way, it’s because of things he cares about.

“It’s not active service, don’t worry about that, my love.” he assured, almost hurriedly, his hand drifting toward yours in an unspoken promise. “I’m not heading back into the field. It’s only to mentor the kids, give them someone they can rely on. They deserve that, especially now.”

You saw his resolve deepen as he spoke of them, the younger students who’d become like family over the years. His voice softened, and you could tell this wasn’t just about filling Gojo’s shoes. 

"I can’t abandon Yuji, he’s already without someone. I can’t really do much more damage by leaving him without someone." he said with quiet conviction, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you understood. 

“Kento—”

"I know how much he’s been through, and… I don’t want him facing it alone. Nobara, too—she’s so headstrong. She’ll need someone she can turn to, someone to help her channel all that fire. And Gojo’s bound to ask for updates on Fushiguro all the time. You know how he is with him. With them. I just….I just don’t want them to feel so alone about this at all. Usami is gaining some foothold and the conservatives are just….its complicated.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you listened, watching the familiar strength in his face, the quiet protector in him springing back to life. Passion was beautiful in your husband. Seeing even more alive with such caring passion makes you happy.

His gaze held yours, steady and honest, a reassurance that his heart was set on this, that he wasn’t leaving you behind but rather doing what he felt was right, the only thing that made sense.

You let the warmth you felt for him reflect in your smile, reaching for his hand as it rested between you. “Of course, Kento.” you replied softly, squeezing his fingers with encouragement. “They couldn’t have anyone better.”

A soft exhale escaped him, the tension leaving his shoulders as he squeezed your hand back. Relief and gratitude flickered across his face, the subtle shift of a man who didn’t often ask for things but knew he’d been understood completely. There was no need for grand gestures or lengthy explanations between the two of you; your silent agreement spoke volumes.

The conversation turned to lighter things, back to the warmth of dinner. But every so often, you caught his expression softening, a look of contentment and resolve, knowing he was about to embark on something meaningful, not just for him, but for those who needed him.

But of course, that also came with cons.

The move to Tokyo was a calm one.

But it was also a disastrous one, in his mind.

You were both too busy to spend time together.

The shift was subtle at first. Kento began to spend more and more hours at Jujutsu High, guiding the first years, sharing his experience, and quietly observing their progress. He’d come home later than usual, sometimes with papers under his arm and a faint weariness in his expression that he tried to mask with a smile. 

Meanwhile, you were pouring yourself into your new book, the words and ideas flowing freely under the careful guidance of your new editor. It was an exciting time, both for your work and for him. There was a renaissance in your paths to life blossoming in your efforts. But there was a toll, a quiet distance neither of you fully acknowledged.

One evening, you noticed the weight in his gaze as he joined you at the table. He seemed quieter, his usual calm presence tinged with something else; something like sadness. You set down your work, reaching across to hold his hand, catching the faint glimmer of surprise in his eyes.

“Things have been so busy lately, my love.” he murmured, his voice soft, almost reluctant to admit it aloud. “I miss being able to spend more time with you.”

Your heart softened at his honesty, and you squeezed his hand gently. “I miss it too, Kento.” you replied, meeting his gaze with reassurance. “But you know how this is… the busy season. Soon, I’ll be back to post-writing mode, and we’ll have more time to do things together. This won’t last forever.”

He nodded, his lips curling into a small, understanding smile. “You’re right. It’s just… different.” There was a flicker of relief in his eyes, but it was short-lived.

As the weeks went on, your new editor’s involvement became more intense, often stretching into late-night calls or spontaneous meetings that kept you occupied well beyond the hours you’d once spent with Kento.

He’d catch you on the phone, your voice animated in a way that was hard to miss, even as he stood in the doorway waiting for a chance to say goodnight. It was hard to deal with, day by day.

But he said nothing, keeping his feelings carefully hidden behind the same mask of calm he’d worn so well for years. But you could sense it, the slight slump of his shoulders, the way his gaze lingered on you just a little longer.

It was as if he was hoping you’d glance up, catch his eye, and read the unspoken questions there. In the quiet moments, he’d watch you, a silent longing in his gaze, feeling the bittersweet ache of being close but somehow… not close enough.

It was an unspoken tension, a soft thread pulled too tight between the two of you. And though he never voiced it, you began to sense how much he missed you—not just physically, but in all the little moments you once shared, now slipping through his fingers.

After all, you guys were all you truly had in all these times. He would always crave everything about you. About loving you, about being close to you. Just you. He missed you.

Nanam Kento was sure that he hadi tried to be patient. He reminded himself, over and over, that this was temporary, just a busy period that would eventually pass. He knew how much this book meant to you and understood how important it was to have an editor who could match your energy and vision. 

But despite all his quiet resolve, he couldn’t ignore the pang of envy that crept in every time he saw you light up, laughing or discussing something animatedly over the phone.

The way you and your editor connected; it was undeniable. The easy flow between you two, the synergy that seemed to bridge ideas without any need for words, stirred something unsettled in him.

He would come home from a long day at Jujutsu high, weary but hopeful to catch up with you. Instead, he’d often find you mid-call, your voice carrying hints of excitement he hadn’t heard in a while. You’d wave him a quick greeting, mouthing that you’d be off soon, but “soon” stretched, and his footsteps grew slower on his way to your side.

It wasn’t that he doubted you or the love between you two. He trusted you deeply. But the way you seemed to come alive with this editor… it stung in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He knew you and this person worked well together, that they understood your work and helped bring out your best ideas. 

He understood it logically, but logic did little to quell the feeling of being left on the sidelines. After all, it was a feeling he recognized too well—the familiar ache of watching from a distance, of caring deeply and yet holding his tongue.

Some nights, he’d sit across from you at dinner, glancing up occasionally, only to see you distracted, your mind clearly still on your work. Or you’d mention a new idea your editor had suggested, a change you hadn’t considered but were now eager to explore.

And though he nodded, offering his encouragement, he couldn’t shake the thought: When was the last time I could make her smile like that?

As the weeks went by, he felt it more keenly, this quiet envy of the time you spent together. It wasn’t that he begrudged you for the partnership, but he couldn’t help wishing that he could have more of that side of you for himself; the side that was vibrant and full of life, that spark of curiosity and joy he’d always adored.

Nanami Kento wasn’t one to give voice to his insecurities easily, and he knew how silly he might sound, envious over something so innocent. He was a secured man, in all the ways he knew he was. He knew that too well. Yet as much as he told himself it was foolish, the feeling lingered.

So he held back, watching you in those moments with a quiet ache, determined to keep his envy hidden. He’d stay later at the school, throw himself into lesson planning, sometimes even offer to cover additional duties, as though it might distract him. But each time he came home, seeing you lost in conversation or laughter, he couldn’t shake the feeling that, for now, a part of you belonged to someone else.

He told himself it was just work. You had deadlines; he understood that. But there was something else. Whenever your phone pinged with a message, you’d check it quickly, smile to yourself, then type out a reply, sometimes with a small laugh or a shake of your head. And every time, he’d feel a sharp pang of something foreign to him: jealousy.

Kento tried to reason with himself. You were his wife, and he trusted you implicitly. You had built a life together, one based on love, understanding, and mutual respect. But that didn’t stop the gnawing feeling in his chest whenever he saw you so absorbed in those messages or whenever he saw that spark of excitement in your eyes when you talked about the feedback your editor gave you.

He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t shake the thought. When he saw you typing away late into the evening, smiling at the screen, a quiet worry settled in the back of his mind. What was this editor like? Why did their input seem to matter so much to you? And why did Kento, who usually approached everything in life with composure, find himself so deeply unsettled?

Tonight, though, he’d had enough. He stood in the doorway to your office, watching you as you leaned over your laptop, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, fully immersed in your work.

You looked beautiful, more beautiful than ever, but that same nagging feeling of jealousy coiled tighter in his chest. And before he could stop himself, something in him just snapped.

“So, my love.” he said, his voice calm yet edged with tension. “Another late night, huh?”

“Yeah, it would seem so!” You retort, noticing him. “You’ve just come home?”

“Just a while ago.” He says to you, watching you turn your head back to your computer. You were typing even faster. He was sure you were trying to finish it, now that he was home.

You looked up once again, a soft smile lighting up your face. “I didn’t even hear you come in. You came in as sly as a little cat!” You stretched, setting aside your laptop and glancing at him warmly. “I was just going over some notes. The editor had a few thoughts on the latest chapter.”

”Did he have any suggestions for this part?" he asked, casually trying to keep his tone even as he nodded toward your screen.

You looked up, clearly surprised. "Who, my editor?"

"Yeah, my love." he said, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he leaned against the doorframe. "It just seems like he's been really… involved in your work lately."

You tilted your head, noticing the unusual tension in his voice, the way his words held a heaviness that wasn’t like him. “Well, that’s what they’re paid to do, you know?” you replied gently, hoping to keep things light, maybe coax a smile out of him. 

But his expression didn’t shift. You could tell almost immediately. Instead, his eyes held a quiet, guarded intensity that stopped you in your tracks. Realizing this was more than a casual remark, you closed your laptop, giving him your full attention.

“Kento… Is something wrong?” you asked, voice soft, searching his face for a sign of what was going on inside him.

He crossed his arms, hesitating. For a moment, he almost looked as if he wanted to brush it off, to go back to his usual collected demeanor, but he stopped. Instead, he looked at you with an intensity that caught you off guard. 

“I know it’s irrational, and I know it’s probably nothing.” he said finally, his voice quiet, almost reluctant. “But… I don’t like seeing you so wrapped up in this person’s feedback. You’ve been smiling at your phone more than you do at me lately, and I’m… not exactly used to feeling like this.”

The vulnerability in his words, the admission from someone usually so calm and composed, made your heart soften instantly. You reached out, covering his hand with yours, feeling the tension there, the way his fingers reflexively squeezed back. 

“Kento, baby.” you said, voice warm. “You don’t have to feel that way. No editor or anyone else could ever mean as much to me as you do. None of them are you. There’s only one of you, you know?”

He relaxed just a little, his shoulders easing as he let your words sink in. But he didn’t let go of that guarded look, the one that still held a hint of uncertainty. “Then why does it feel like I’m… competing for your attention?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours. It was a simple question, but the way he asked it, with a vulnerability that you knew he rarely revealed, struck you deeply.

You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “I guess I didn’t realize how it looked.” you admitted, your thumb brushing lightly along his hand. “It’s just… I got excited about the project, and the new feedback’s been inspiring. But…I’m so sorry for not noticing or making you feel that way, baby.” 

You reached out, tracing a gentle hand down his arm, feeling the tension start to melt away as you looked into his eyes. “None of that compares to what I have with you. I hope you know that.  You’re the one I come home to, Kento. You’re the one who matters most. I love you. Only you.”

He seemed to exhale, his expression softening. You could see the quiet relief in his eyes, the way the tension finally started to lift, and it made you want to close whatever lingering distance was left between you. And then, his voice, low and almost hesitant, broke the silence.

“Tell me, my love.” he whispered, barely above a murmur. “Tell me that you want me. Just… say it.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice, that rare openness he was offering, made your heart ache in the best way. You don’t think you had ever felt like this before Kento. But every day since then, your heart has created more motions you could never understand. And you know, you just knew – it was because you loved him more than anything in life. 

As you looked at him, you knew that he knew that. But he was only human. It wasn’t easy to not be swayed by human doubts and impulse. You never faulted him for that. If anything, it made you fall in love with him over and over again. 

Because your Kento was both sides of the coin of human life. And you embrace it, more than you could ever imagine. Love is just that way. You knew that to be true. You stepped closer, your hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, grounding him.

“Kento, I want you. Only you.” you said, your voice filled with the sincerity you hoped he could feel. “I want you more than anything. Because you’re my life. My oxygen. My everything.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and before either of you could say another word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm, firm embrace. The warmth you had come to hold onto in this life. 

You sank into his hold, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your ear. There was a familiar comfort there, a quiet strength in his embrace, that had always felt like home.

For a few moments, you both stayed that way, close and quiet, as if the world outside had faded and left only the two of you. He lifted his head slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead/

Kento murmured into your hair, his voice gentle. “Promise me you’ll take a break from work. I’ll do it too. We’ll spend time together. Just us. No one else.”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a soft smile spreading across your lips. “Of course, my baby. I can postpone everything else. If it’s you, everything else can wait. My husband being happy is more important to me!” you whispered.

A quiet sense of relief washed over him, and he held you a little tighter, his own smile finally breaking through, his usual calm confidence restored. For Kento, there was no greater feeling than knowing you were his and that you were here, sharing this quiet, peaceful moment with him.

As he held you close, he felt a deep contentment, one he rarely allowed himself to savor. The jealousy that had once gripped him faded entirely, replaced by a quiet certainty. Of course there should be. Why wouldn't there be?

The certainty that your love, your life together, was the one thing in the world he could rely on. That he was sure. You love him, after all. And as he closed his eyes, resting his chin atop your head, he silently thanked the universe for you, for this love that was more real, more enduring, than any fleeting worry or passing jealousy.

This, he thought to himself, was where he belonged. 

Right here, in this moment, in your arms.

Nowhere else can compare to this.

YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AND HAVE A PICNIC. The night before you had agreed that it would be nice to enjoy the Tokyo sun, and have a picnic at the park. You talked about a cat cafe nearby too. He talked about how the yakisoba dish was introduced at his favorite restaurant. There were new spots popping out in Tokyo for you both to check out.

That’s what you agreed on. Today was supposed to be simple, a peaceful day just to unwind and enjoy each other’s company. But the moment you woke up and felt his gaze linger a bit longer.

Slowly, smoothly, you could feel his hand finding the curve of your waist, you knew that quiet was about to turn into something much more intense. You knew your husband too well. When he’s hungry — he remains hungry.

He pulled you close, his grip both gentle and possessive as his eyes darkened. “Mine, only mine.” he murmured, the word almost a growl, his fingers tracing your skin like he wanted to memorize every part of you. 

The world around you melted away as he took his time, every kiss and touch filled with a need that made your heart race. You let him, giving himself over as he murmured softly against your skin, “My pretty wife… just for me.”

You could feel him stretching you out so perfectly with his fingers, causing you to moan loudly. Your husband was good, too good at everything he does. But when it comes to you, he was beyond excellent. Your eyes felt hazy as he looked at you with that predatory stare. You held him even closer, your moan getting louder. 

Your head turns awry with the high as you continue to ride his fingers as he kisses your neck, you're stuck against the wall occupied by him. No one, not even your previous lovers, those green boy boyfriends were able to make you feel this good.

No one could make you feel this way. Only him. Only your husband, your Kento. And every single time, he knew it. Even with his jealousy, he knew it. You were always going to fold when it’s him. Only him. 

“K–Kento.” you moan out, your voice breathless as you rock against his fingers, the sensation overwhelming in the best way. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm he creates. “You’re… you’re… oh—”

His eyes darken with desire, and a sly smile creeps onto his lips. “That’s it, my love.” he replies, his voice low and filled with warmth.

He peppered soft kisses along your neck, each one igniting a fire inside you that burned brighter with every passing second. His fingers pushed deeper, faster, and you felt so incredibly full, the exquisite stretch making your head spin.

“Come. Come for me.” he urged, his words wrapping around you like a spell, both a command and an invitation. The way he held you against the wall, the heat radiating from his body, only heightened the electric connection between you.

Every kiss he placed on your skin felt like a promise, an affirmation of the bond you shared. No one else had ever made you feel this way; so cherished and desired. With him, you were always ready to surrender completely, to give in to the overwhelming pleasure that built within you. Nothing else can compare with what you feel for your husband. Nothing. 

You could feel the tension coiling tighter, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. He was so good at remembering where to touch you next. After being together for this long, Kento knew your body even better than you. He knows how to make you cry, how to make you moan. He knows everything.

“Kento.” you gasped, the sound a mix of pleasure and longing, and as his fingers curled just right, that coil finally snapped. Your body shuddered, a wave of bliss crashing over you, leaving you breathless as you surrendered to the moment, lost in the magic of him.

You looked up at him, and his gaze was intense, filled with a mix of satisfaction and hunger that sent a rush of warmth through you. Without a word, he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you with a fervor that reignited the fire within. 

His movements were slow at first, but as he pushed his fingers one by one, even deeper, your moans escaped you uncontrollably, pulling him closer as you urged him on, wanting nothing more than to feel every bit of him.

Somehow, you had been able to accommodate every tight, muscular finger in his hand. And you knew it felt good. He knew it felt good. Because he knew just what to do. No one else would. Only Kento would.

He responded with a low, pleased growl, the sound reverberating through his chest as his free hand tightened around your hip, holding you possessively against him.

There was an undeniable power in the way he claimed you, every inch of his touch a reminder of the connection you shared. You felt cherished and owned, completely his in this intimate moment.

Each thrust of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you, each stroke deliberate and filled with purpose. Your body responded eagerly, arching into him as you surrendered fully to the sensations, every moan escaping your lips urging him on.

The world outside ceased to exist; there was only you, him, and the electric energy that wrapped around you both, binding you together in a rhythm that felt both primal and tender.

As the intensity of the moment deepened, you could feel the heat radiating from him, a tangible connection that anchored you both in a world of your own. His lips traveled down to your neck, trailing kisses that ignited your skin, leaving behind a trail of fire. You could feel the way he held you, his grip firm yet gentle, and it made you crave more, the need building inside you like a rising tide.

“Just like that, my love.” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and teasing. The sound of his voice sent a thrill through you, adding to the layers of pleasure that enveloped you.

He continued to move his fingers with a deliberate slowness, coaxing every last ounce of ecstasy from your body. Each time he pushed deeper, you gasped, the sensations pulling you closer to the edge once again.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you could merge your bodies into one. Drool started to form from your lips as he thrusted even deeper, pleasure repetitive in your lips to his ears. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed making a mess of you way too much. 

“K–kento. Oh my….g—oddddd…..” you breathed, the urgency in your voice echoing your desire. You needed him, all of him, and you wanted to feel that connection intensify. He looked into your eyes, and in that moment, you saw the depth of his love mirrored in his gaze, a promise that went beyond the physical.

He quickened his pace slightly, and you felt every pulse of his fingers inside you, each thrust igniting a new wave of pleasure. You could sense the hunger in him, a deep-seated need to feel you unravel beneath him.

“You’re perfect, aren't you?” he said, the words reverberating through you as you lost yourself in the moment. His possessiveness only heightened your arousal, each stroke of his fingers an affirmation that you belonged to him, and he to you.

With every thrust, every kiss, you felt the world around you blur, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of passion. Your bodies moved together as if they were made to fit, every touch syncing perfectly. You surrendered completely, letting the waves of pleasure wash over you, pulling you under and lifting you higher.

“Come for me again, my love.” he urged, his voice a low growl filled with desire. You could feel the pressure building once more, and with a desperate need, you clung to him, riding the waves of sensation that coursed through you. 

The world outside faded entirely as you focused on the way he made you feel—alive, cherished, and utterly consumed by the moment. And as you finally tipped over the edge into bliss, you knew that this was where you belonged, wrapped in his arms, lost in your shared passion.

As the world outside faded into a distant hum, you and Kento found yourselves enveloped in an intimate cocoon, where it was just the two of you. His gaze held yours, deep and searching, as if he were reading the unspoken words that danced between you. The air was thick with anticipation, and your heart raced in sync with the pulse of the moment.

With a gentle touch, he caressed your cheek, his fingers trailing down to your neck, igniting sparks of warmth beneath his fingertips. The softness of his touch contrasted with the burning desire that simmered between you, creating a perfect tension that left you breathless. You leaned into him, craving the connection that felt both familiar and exhilarating.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with warmth, laced with a hint of playful teasing that made your stomach flutter. You nodded, feeling a rush of trust and excitement wash over you. You knew he would take care of you, just as he always did.

As he shifted closer, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and safety. When he entered you, it was as if time stood still. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy that made you gasp softly. You could feel every inch of him, filling you completely, as he took his time, letting you adjust to the fullness.

Kento's eyes never left yours, and in that moment, you felt utterly cherished. Each movement was deliberate, as if he were savoring the connection between your bodies and the bond you shared. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both surrendered to the rhythm of your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful, my love.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, and you could feel the sincerity in his words.

Those simple words sent a wave of warmth through you, making you feel both desired and loved. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him even closer, as if you could merge your souls together.

He held you firmly, as though afraid to let go, fingers pressing into your skin with a hunger that left no doubt of his intentions. His hands slid from your waist to your thighs, gripping you with an intensity that was both grounding and electric, each touch sparking a heat that made you shiver.

The way he held you was raw and consuming, as though he wanted to memorize the feeling of you beneath his hands, every curve, every softness. He knew everything like the back of his hand/

You could feel his breath, warm and steady, against your skin, each kiss he placed making you arch closer, melting into the strength of his hold. The roughness of his grip, his possessive energy, pulled you deeper.

It was like he was marking you as his, his touch heavy with a passion that left you breathless. He looked into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense, a silent promise of everything he wanted to give, everything he wanted to take.

The world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, his warmth surrounding you, his presence overwhelming in the best possible way. Every inch of you felt alive under his touch, every nerve alight with a need that only he could satisfy.

His hands continued to explore, leaving trails of warmth, his touch demanding yet tender, as if reassuring you that he was there, and you were his.

The heat between you intensified, his hands roaming slowly, leaving a trail of tingling warmth wherever they went. You trembled, feeling the power behind every touch, every possessive whisper.

You could feel him drinking in the sight of you, holding you close as if he didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t rushed; it was filled with a focused, possessive affection that only made you crave him more.

Time blurred as his movements became a mix of gentleness and intensity. His hands slid lower, holding you firmly, possessively, as he whispered your name.

His words washed over you, filled with longing and satisfaction as he whispered, “You’re mine. Only mine.” Each soft murmur made your breath catch, his voice rough with devotion.

Your husband had always had a way of grounding you, pulling you back to him in the moments you needed it most. He held you with a quiet strength, his touches both comforting and electric, each caress more deliberate than the last.

When the busy schedules and late nights began to take their toll, you’d find yourself in his arms, feeling the tension melt away as he made you his world.

He was possessive in the gentlest way, his lips tracing along your skin, his voice murmuring low, tender words that anchored you to the present.

"Mine, mine." he'd say, over and over, his voice a husky whisper as he pressed deeper, slow and unhurried, savoring each moment. "My beautiful wife, my one and only."

You let yourself unravel under his touch, feeling each surge of pleasure as he pulled you closer, his mouth finding yours in heated kisses, his hands firm as they held you against him. The world outside faded, and there was only him—each movement, each shudder of pleasure woven with his love and need for you.

And as your body trembled, giving in to the pleasure he offered, he’d whisper words that sent warmth spiraling through you: His only. His good girl. His good little wife.

With every pulse and every breath, he made you his, claiming you in the way only he could, and you felt yourself give in, letting him take what he needed, knowing that he was yours just as deeply.

In these moments, he was entirely yours, just as you were his, both of you wrapped up in a world where only the two of you existed. And as he held you close, that familiar need he had for you was clear in his eyes, you could feel the depth of his love; the way he wanted you, needed you—all pouring out with each possessive word and touch.

Every thrust was slow and measured, each movement deliberate and filled with purpose, as if Kento were painting a masterpiece with your bodies.

He took his time, carefully crafting a rhythm that drew you both closer to the edge of ecstasy, like the steady buildup of a powerful wave ready to crash upon the shore. Each moment felt like an eternity, stretched and molded by his touch, igniting every nerve ending with heat and longing.

Kento relished in the way you responded to him, the way your body quivered beneath him, your breaths coming in soft gasps that filled the space between you.

He liked making you wait, savoring the way your eyes widened in need and your body writhed, pleading for more. The way you mewled over and over again, lost in the depths of desire, was music to his ears, a siren call that drove him further into the depths of his own hunger for you.

“Please, Kento. More. More—” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation, the need pooling in the pit of your stomach. Each word was a plea, a yearning that echoed in the silence of the room, punctuated only by the soft sounds of skin meeting skin.

“P–please….pleaseeeee…..”

A teasing smile played on his lips as he leaned down, his breath warm against your neck. He bit gently into your flesh, a sweet sting that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through you, causing you to moan, tears streaming down your face from the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. 

“Enjoy it, my love. Enjoy the slow burn.” he murmured, his voice low and husky, wrapping around you like a silken ribbon. “Let’s have fun, hm?”

His words were a command and a caress, urging you to embrace the intensity of the moment. The way he spoke your name, the way he held you, felt like a tether pulling you deeper into the shared experience. You were both caught in a delicate dance, a balance of power and surrender, where every pause and every gentle caress built anticipation.

The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you intertwined, lost in the growing tension between your bodies. Kento was in control, but you loved it. You loved the way he took his time, how each thrust felt like an exploration, a journey into the very essence of what it meant to be together.

He would withdraw slightly, teasing you with the promise of more, before plunging back into you with a slow, deliberate push that sent sparks of pleasure radiating from the core of your being.

Each pulse of his body against yours was a reminder of his possession, of the bond you shared that was both beautiful and intoxicating. The slow burn he created enveloped you, igniting your senses and drawing you closer to the precipice of your desires. You could feel the heat building within you, an insistent wave that throbbed and twisted, desperate for release.

“Just like that, my love.” he encouraged, his voice a soothing balm against the tumultuous storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Let it build. Let it consume you.”

You let his words command you, letting them wash over you as you melted into the sensations. Every tear that fell was a blessing of pleasure and the pain mingling together, a sweet agony that you welcomed wholeheartedly.

You could feel your heart racing, your breaths quickening, as you approached that sweet, familiar edge, caught between the bliss of the moment and the urgency of your need.

With every deep stroke, you felt a delicious tension building within you, a tightness that was both exhilarating and overwhelming. Each time he filled you completely, it ignited a spark of pleasure that resonated deep in your core, drawing soft gasps from your lips. Your husband was a great lover. Perhaps the best there ever was. 

You surrendered to him fully, giving yourself over to the sensations that enveloped you. The outside world faded away, leaving nothing but the two of you entwined in this intimate dance. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, made every moment feel precious. 

You can only focus on him. Only him. He was what mattered. The way his eyes held yours, filled with an intensity that spoke volumes of his love and desire.

You could write as many beautiful works as you could ever want. But perhaps the most beautiful creation in your life was him. Loving Nanami Kento was your most beautiful creation.

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the way he made you feel. It was a combination of love and raw passion, an electric current that flowed between you, binding you together in a way that felt profoundly intimate.

Every caress of his hands, every whispered word, heightened your awareness of him, igniting your senses and making you acutely aware of the depth of your connection.

You could feel his warmth enveloping you, a comforting presence that made you feel safe yet desired. The way he moved, the way he took his time to explore every inch of you, filled you with an overwhelming sense of affection and longing.

With each thrust, you could feel your bodies communicating in a language all your own, a silent exchange that deepened the bond between you.

As you both lost yourselves in each other, the outside world faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you entwined in a universe of your own making.

The air around you thickened with anticipation, and every touch felt electric, as if the very essence of your connection pulsed between you. As if you truly belonged together.

You could sense the tension coiling tighter, each movement a languid dance that drew you deeper into an exquisite rhythm, a beautiful synergy that melded your souls together and ignited a fire within you that felt utterly intoxicating.

“Kento, I’m coming. I’m so close.” you gasped, the words spilling from your lips as desire swirled through your veins.

He trailed kisses along your jaw, his lips soft yet insistent, igniting a cascade of shivers that traveled down your spine. “Come for me, baby. Let go.” he urged, his voice low and rich with promise, wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

That was when he shifted, his movements quickening, a sudden urgency that sent your heart racing. The delicious friction intensified, and with each thrust, the world outside vanished completely, leaving only the two of you in a haze of passion. 

Every kiss, every whisper, every pulse of his body against yours propelled you closer to that blissful edge, where pleasure and surrender intertwined, drawing you both into a beautiful climax that promised to sweep you away entirely.

As Kento quickened his pace, the urgency of his movements sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, building to a peak that felt both thrilling and inevitable.

The air around you crackled with electricity, every sensation heightened as he pressed deeper, claiming you in a way that made your heart race and your body ache for more. His breaths came in ragged gasps, mingling with the sound of skin against skin, each thrust driving you further into a euphoric haze.

“My love, I’m so close.” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I’m….I’m gonna come.”

You could see the raw need in his gaze, the way he was completely lost in the moment, just as you were. It was intoxicating to know that you had this effect on him, that you could pull him into this blissful space where nothing else mattered but the two of you.

“I want you, baby.” you whispered, your voice trembling with urgency as you felt that familiar coil tightening within you. “I need you.”

“D’ you want me inside, hm? Where do you want me?”

You moan, thinking about how hot it was. How hotter it would be to have him inside of you. “I-inside me. Please. Please. Make me full.”

“Y’d like that? You want me to make you full of me, my love?”

“Yes, yes, o–oh, yes—”

With a low growl, Kento shifted his focus, pushing into you with a deep, purposeful thrust that sent stars dancing behind your eyelids. The world outside was a distant memory, all that existed was the heat building between you, a fire that consumed you both whole.

His movements were rhythmic yet fervent, each push coaxing you closer to the edge, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you. It felt so good. It felt way too good and you wanted it to last forever.

“Let go, my love.” he urged, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers coursing through your body. “I’m right there with you.”

And then, with a final, deep thrust, you felt him come inside you, warmth flooding you as he released with a low groan, his body pulsing against yours. The sensation was overwhelming—a rush of heat that spread through you, mingling with your own climax as pleasure washed over you in waves, leaving you breathless and trembling benea

th him.

You held on closer to him, taking in a new dawn’s breath.

You were so in love with this man, more than you know. 

And he was the same — he couldn’t get enough of loving you.

“You know, if I had known jealousy would make you like this…” you finally say, your voice still laced with breathlessness as you regain your composure.

The warmth of the moment lingers around you like a soft blanket, and you can feel the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through your body. Kento’s kisses trail along your glistening skin, each gentle press of his lips a sweet reminder of the connection you’ve just shared.

His lips are soft against you, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, and the scent of your mingled skin fills the air with a heady sweetness that is all-consuming.

“I would get you jealous often, baby.” you tease, a playful smile curving your lips as you look down at him.

Kento pauses, lifting his gaze to meet yours, his expression a mixture of amusement and mock seriousness. “Is that so?” he replies, his voice a low rumble that sends a delightful shiver through you. 

The intensity in his eyes is unmistakable, a mix of possessiveness and affection that makes your heart flutter.You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound echoing around you in the intimate space you’ve created together.

“Absolutely. You should see how cute you get when you’re all riled up, baby.” you say, playfully nudging him with your shoulder. “Fiesty and all.”

His lips curve into a smirk, and he leans closer, brushing his nose against yours. “You’re lucky I’m not the type to stay jealous for long, my love.” he murmurs, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “But if it means I get to have you like this…” 

His voice trails off, and he plants a series of soft kisses down your neck, each one sending delightful tingles racing across your skin. You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment to relish the sensations he stirs within you. 

“You’re incorrigible sometimes, Kento.” you whisper, feeling the weight of his affection enveloping you. The playful banter only adds to the intimacy, making it all the more special, as if you were sharing a secret joke that only the two of you understood.

“Only for you, my love.” he replies, his voice sincere as he pulls back just enough to gaze into your eyes. “But really, seeing you light up like that—it’s worth it. Just know I’ll always come back to claim what’s mine.”

epilogue 

As the soft glow of the evening light filtered through the window, casting gentle shadows across the room, you and Kento found yourselves nestled comfortably together. You hadn’t left the bed much since this morning.

And your husband was incredibly happy about that. He wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. Everything about the room smelt like sex and sweat, that was to be expected. Your husband’s insatiable when he gets into it. 

But the atmosphere was relaxed and intimate, the air filled with the kind of warmth that comes from deep affection. Everything about the aftermath was the passion of lovers who will always be in love.

And you couldn't help but admit that you felt blessed with that. This passion between you and Kento, it will never die. For bitter, for worse, for good and better — you will always have this. You will always be together like this.

After a playful exchange repeating over and over again, you both took breaks in between. For a while, you both watched some television. Kento seems to enjoy Love Island, so he wants to watch the whole series with you now. A little while later, the two of you talked a little bit about the little things you’ve seen and done lately.

Soon enough, you were sure you were hungry. Kento immediately kissed you and went to the kitchen, coming back with some bowls of favorite snacks and some refreshing drinks, on ice.

But of course, he urged you to drink the water most. With all the screaming he’s made you do, he’s a little bit more worried about your voice, 

You both conversed about silly things now, laughing at how Yuji seems to be as silly as ever before. About how Gakuganji seems to continue to be annoyed by Gojo Satoru’s phone calls.

But then he talked about Gojo Satoru expecting another child on the way, albeit accidental. In that moment, you realized it was that moment. So, you took a moment to shift the conversation to that.

“You know, baby…..” you began, leaning your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. “I know you’re still busy, I’ve been thinking maybe….just maybe…”

“You know surprises aren’t needed.” He laughs, lowering his head to press a kiss to your cheek.

“I know, I know.” You roll your eyes playfully but let out a small smile, leaning against his chest. “Don’t you think it’s time we consider having kids soon. I’m really happy to make that happen soon.”

Kento turned to you, his brow raising in playful skepticism, but a smile tugged at his lips. “Is that so? You’re ready to dive into the chaos of parenting, my love? You know it’s a lot of work, right?” He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting, filling the space between you.

You couldn’t help but grin back, your heart fluttering at the prospect. “Of course! But I think it would be so worth it. Just imagine our little ones running around, making messes and keeping us on our toes.”

He smiles at you fondly. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I know so.” You grinned at him. “I can also see you being the doting dad, teaching them all about fighting and how to protect themselves. Or you know, just making some bread from home! I do miss authentic rye bread from an expert in Danish baked goods. Imagine how our kids will feel when they eat it too!”

He laughed, a rich, hearty sound that echoed in the room and made you feel light with joy. “You think so? I suppose you’re right, my love. I can already picture myself getting wrapped around their little fingers. They’d have me wrapped around their hearts in no time.” 

The sincerity in his tone made your heart swell with happiness.

Everything about your husband makes you feel happy everyday.

If life were to teach what happiness looks like, it would be him.

“Exactly!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over. “And they’d have your strength and my charm. Can you imagine how adorable they’d be?”

Kento’s expression softened, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “You know, I’ve always wanted that. A family with you. You make everything better.” His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, igniting a sense of hope and love within you.

“So, you’re on board with the idea?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with anticipation.

“Absolutely, my love.” he replied, that playful smirk returning to his face. “But first, I think we need to indulge in another round of this.” 

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, and captured your lips in a kiss that sent shivers down your spine. You melted against him, losing yourself in the moment, the kiss deepening as he pulled you closer.

It was intoxicating, filled with a mix of passion and love that made your heart race. Everything about Kento was just a pool you wanna drown in. Everything about him was worth drowning in. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in each other, a perfect blend of laughter, warmth, and desire.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your cheeks flushed with warmth, Kento looked at you with that glint of mischief in his eyes that you adored.

“Okay, let’s talk about the details later, my love.” he said, grinning widely. “But for now, I think we have some important work to do to ensure that happens.”

With that, he pulled you back into another passionate kiss, laughter bubbling between you as you savored the moment. You felt the electric connection between you, the promise of a beautiful future hanging in the air, ripe with possibilities.

As you both continued to kiss, the playful banter resumed, filled with sweet nothings and playful teasing about the “practice” needed for the future family you envisioned. After all, practice makes perfect.

[hwangism143]

off-limits

synopsis: hwang hyunjin was multiple things to you: incredible. god-like. everything. but most of all, he was off-limits. that is, until, you both are forced to share a room at a beach getaway. sounds perfectly romantic, right? except for your fear of the ocean and his recent break-up.

pairing: non-idol!hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: best friends brother trope, one room trope, angst, fluff

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of death, nightmares, graphic description of nearly drowning, eating and food, slightly suggestive, near death experience

please do not read if any of these topics are triggering

word count: 15.4k words

playlist: box in the ocean - alessia cara, swimming pools - francis on my mind, mixtape: time out - stray kids

a/n: guys. my baby is here. this was requested by the wonderful @scarlet789 also, shout out to my bae avi (@stayinlimbo) for letting me scream in her dms. as usual, pls leave your comments and reblog!! they mean everything to me <3

"all these explosive emotions, i'm holding"

Hwang Hyunjin was multiple things to you. Beautiful, heavenly and ethereal were just a few words to describe him. Off-limits, however, was probably the best and most encompassing in this situation. He was your best friend Hyun-jee's brother, and a long time ago, you chose friendship over love.

Hyun-jee and her brother came from an extremely well off family. Hyun-jee's mother was a famous model while her father was the owner of one of the most popular media channels in South Korea. Unlike the stereotypical rich kid, however, Hyun-jee genuinely did want to inherit her father's business someday, eagerly waiting to take over as CEO after his retirement. For now though, she was content with just being the CFO of their overseas subsidiary.

Hyunjin however, was a bit of an enigma when it came to company legacy. Rebellious couldn't be the right word considering his parents never really minded about what he would become (they did have the extremely ambitious to the point of it being slightly terrifying younger daughter). Hyunjin was destined for greatness though. The entire Hwang family was. To your astonishment, even the family dog had his own fanpage.

Hyunjin had cemented himself in the art industry, having gone to a special arts high school and studied painting in Paris for a few years. His artwork sold in the millions, and their relevance was extremely pertinent to everyday life. A part of you marveled about how you even came to become friends with such extraordinary people when you were just the opposite of that, bland and normal.

You first met Hyun-jee in boarding school, you with a scholarship and starry eyes and Hyun-jee with her father's massive paycheck and worldly wisdom that rivaled that of the oldest ahjumma's. It was an international one, meaning that the medium of speaking was almost entirely English. You could have taken Korean as well, of course, but you opted for French instead. That was when you met Hyun-jee, the dorm arrangements being set according to the second language chosen.

Hyun-jee shone as bright as a star but she never made that cover your light. If anything, she amplified it to an incredible degree. Being friends with her wasn't slavery (as popularized by fiction), but instead it was earth-shaking, revolutionary and the most brilliant thing to happen.

Ah, fourteen year old minds.

But really, Hyun-jee was a friend you would always cherish, having been extremely close to her even after graduation. Every first day of school, you two would curl up in the couch of your common room and start telling each other all about your wild summers.

You knew, of course, about Hyun-jee's brother, but she rarely brought him up. He was a slightly sensitive topic in your friendship and you knew why. All you knew was that he liked painting and was a year older than Hyun-jee.

To be completely honest, not only were you Hyun-jee's best friend, you were also probably her first and only close friend. People had a tendency to get close with Hyun-jee just to take advantage of her family. Nine out of ten times, that was girls who wanted to date Hyunjin.

Hyun-jee loved you for being completely unaware about who she was until after you met her. Not being a South Korean native, you had no idea who the Hwang family was. The only member you did personally know was Hwang Hyun-jee, future CEO. Except to you, she was nearly a sister. She was the girl who snorted milk out of her nose while laughing, owned practically a shrine dedicated to Michael B. Jordan and had the most awful bed head. You saw a Hyun-jee that she only showed to two people in this world: you and Hyunjin.

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All that ambiguity was about Hyunjin was about to change however, that junior year of high school. It was the first day of school and you were waiting for Hyun-jee to be dropped off near the school gates. This time though, it wasn't her old driver but someone a lot younger pulling up to the school front.

Hyun-jee opened the door and practically flew into your arms, causing a giggle to arise from your mouths and the both of you slightly stumbling backwards. Behind her, you heard a throat clear.

"Your bags, miss?" came an overly exaggerated tone of what you assumed was a male.

"Oh, piss off Hyunjin," snapped Hyun-jee, straightening her school uniform and letting go of you. She quickly introduced you both to each other. Hyunjin offered his hand and, your brain must have been on autopilot because your hand smoothly grabbed his without a hitch.

Your mind, however, was a mess.

Hyunjin was absolutely gorgeous. You could tell why so many women (and some men) pined over him. His then blonde hair fell into his eyes and he had a literal, a literal twinkle in his eyes. You probably just imagined it, but when your hand grabbed his, you felt a shock coursing through (although in hindsight it was probably just static electricity). He was attractive, yes, but you wouldn't really call it a crush, per se. It was more of a 'hey. you're good looking.' type of situation, not a 'i have envisioned our entire future together pls marry me.' kind of situation.

That was, until, Hyun-jee invited you (well, more forced by her parents to invite you) to spend the summer before senior year at her family's ski resort.

Hyunjin made you feel like you were glowing, like you were the only person in the room. If Hyun-jee amplified your brightness, Hyunjin captured it, understanding you in a way nobody else did.

While Hyun-jee was off skiing and being athletic, you and Hyunjin spent hours locked in the library. Sometimes, you sat in silence. Other times, you talked about everything under the sun, from classical literature and Jane Austen to cat videos and singing to Taylor Swift.

Being a huge bookworm yourself, you adored the concerningly large labyrinth which they called a  library housed in their lodge. Hyunjin would paint on a chair with him and his easel facing you as you would lounge on the sofa, poring over yet another thick, hard bound novel. Then, you would pass that book to Hyunjin, who would also read it, giving you both a topic of conversation.

You were never bitter towards Hyun-jee for leaving you behind with Hyunjin while she took classes and taught classes at the local ice rink and snow hill. She always was better left outside than cooped up inside, unlike you and Hyunjin who were ambiverted to a fault and short-circuited if outdoors for too long.

In fact, you were thankful for it. If Hyun-jee hadn't been gone long enough for you and Hyunjin to have some time together, you never would have experienced falling in love with him. If that is what it was.

Your relationship never blossomed into something more than soft smiles and knowing glances, even the occasional (and never accidental, at least on your part) brush of fingers being constrained and a rare occurrence. Even though you weren't sure if Hyunjin had such feelings towards you, you both knew that there was a line you couldn't cross.

Still, your brain romanticized all of it. Being in love with you best friend's brother, secluded moments in a library... it really was turning into an 'i have found a wedding dress. get a ring. we are already mentally married.' cacophony of feelings. Paired with the snowy backdrop of the mountains and Hyunjin more often than not offering you his hoodie, you were, to put it mildly, in heaven.

"Hey, do you want to make hot chocolate or bake something? I'm not really getting inspiration to paint and..." Hyunjin just waved his arm around, trailing off and looking at you with hopeful eyes.

The lodge had a personal chef who could whip something up at just a sentence. He knew that. You knew that. You grinned at him, "Okay. Let's do it."

The two of you worked your way up to the private kitchen (the shock you felt and finding out they had two kitchens was so comical that Hyun-jee even recorded it). Baking with Hyunjin was terrifying. By the end of it, you had flour all over you, Hyunjin having icing on his cheek. The end result was delicious but very off-putting looking cupcakes.

While Hyunjin busied himself with cleaning, you swiped your thumb across the icing that had laid base on his face (conveniently missing the tissues practically staring at you).

Hyunjin turned his head to look at you in surprise, eyebrows scrunched and cheeks puffed. "I'm sorry," you stammered, "There was icing and-"

"No," he laughed, "It's not that. Your hands are really cold. I thought I was doing a good job of keeping you warm."

A small pout formed on his face as he motioned to take your hands. You obliged and he rubbed them for a bit, humming along to some pop song that was trending. As he was doing so, you nearly bore a hole into the floor with tour eyes, trying (and hopefully succeeding) in hiding the massive blush threatening to creep onto your face.

That night, Hyun-jee asked you nonchalantly, "Is something going on between you and my brother?"

While the question might have seemed like an innocent one, you knew the venom and pain behind it. Your thoughts were only confirmed by her usage of the terminology 'my brother', instead of just his name.

You were laying down on her bed, bile rising in your throat. Love or friendship? The thoughts in your head collided, crashing into each other like a tsunami. Hyun-jee had been there for you your entire time in Korea, caring for you like you were her own blood. Hyunjin had only known you for a few weeks but made you feel like the only girl in the world.

Your conflicting feelings towards both your situations gnawed and twisted at you like a thorn bush, scratchy weeds clawing at you and desperately awaiting respite. All it would take to get rid of that awful feeling would be one sentence of confirmation or otherwise.

Hyun-jee made eye contact with you through the mirror as she brushed her hair. "Well?" she prompted, slightly impatiently.

You rolled over onto your stomach, eyes locked onto hers. "Hm? Sorry I couldn't hear you. Nope, we're just friends, if you can even call it that." You shrugged at her and she shot you a grateful smile, eyes full of relief. Your stomach, on the other hand, was tangled up in knots that felt painfully similar to the knots that had wound their way into your heart.

Hyunjin didn't see you in the library again.

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The irony of your situation, looking back was, well... ironic. Of the three months that you spent with the Hwang family, half of it went in trying to spend as much time with Hyunjin as possible and the other half went in avoiding him at all costs.

You were never a hopeless romantic, not really. You knew what love practically looked like, and that it wasn't perfect. If it was, then the phrase wouldn't be something as harsh as falling in love, would it? However, one thing that you constantly chided yourself about was the importance of first love.

You placed first love on a pedestal higher than anything else. You were extremely meticulous about it though. You were frighteningly determined to experience the most perfect first love one ever could, tailored to your desires. Falling in love with Hyunjin, however, was not part of the plan.

Falling in love with Hyunjin was like breathing. It came so naturally, as if it was always there but couldn't be shaken off as soon as you noticed it. It felt inevitable, it felt like life was giving you another reason to live in the form of a soft-spoken artistic boy who had a penchant for dyeing his hair.

It was so extremely easy too. How could it not be? The way his eyes crinkled in the sides when he smiled and high pitched laugh were sensations that you would pay anything to relive. The way his eyes never left you when you passionately (and sometimes violently) gesticulated about your favorite books, the way he somehow understood what you were communicating his way even without you verbalizing it, made you realize that no one had ever quite made you feel this way.

'This way', being, feeling excited at just the mere thought at knowing that you were inhaling the same air as them. Small firecrackers igniting in your stomach at just the thought of seeing them. Feeling like you would simultaneously combust and drown if you couldn't be with them.

You often lied to yourself though. No, it wasn't love. Just a passing crush, was your mantra, repeated over and over again in your head until you almost believed it. Almost. A passing crush wouldn't entail not being able to concentrate on anything apart from Hyunjin when he was in front of you. A passing crush wouldn't cause you to look at him when he thought you weren't, in an attempt to memorize his features, capture every moment and seal it in an imaginary locket.

The reason why you made yourself think these thoughts were because you were unraveling. The realization that your first love did not love you back, not even a little bit (or so you thought) crashed down all your ideals about romance. The you that existed back then was positive that you would never, ever, love again. If the person you had first fallen in love with couldn't fall in love with you, then how could anyone else?

Of course, compared to your life now, such issues felt trivial. Right? Then why did you still have such a hard time forming romantic attachments? Why was your self-esteem when it came to be loved was in the gallows, rotting in the negatives?

It wasn't Hyunjin's fault, it never was in your head. It was the causation and effect of your own fucked up idolization of falling in love for the first time. You had so profoundly accepted the notion of first love being unforgettable that you only assumed it to be positive, not even thinking about how you would grapple with the situation if it were negative.

Maybe if you did, you would learn and grow from every failed romance that you would have, all up until you found 'the one', even if it was just for that moment. But you didn't. Instead, you had grown such a clawing and deafening fear of rejection that you refused to fall in love at all.

Somedays, the loneliness would get to you. The day Hyun-jee announced to you that she officially had a girlfriend, you were happy, immensely so, but a part of you just... broke. Going to parties and dinners and even just staying in with your friends meant that you had to witness all the small things about love that you would never experience.

Your friends and their significant others were never obvious around you. They weren't constantly touching each other and making comments about their undying love for each other. But even those tiny actions, the little aspects, didn't go unnoticed by you.

The small smile of affection on one's face at anything the other did, an entire conversation passing through just a glance, the featherweight touches that probably had a heavier meaning that you would ever know - all of this was just something you could vicariously experience through the people in love all around you.

Maybe, if you weren't such a coward, you would be in love right now too, instead of wallowing in despair and the trenches of missing out.

On the last day of your stay at the Hwang lodge, you went to the library to see Hyunjin one last time. For seeking some sort of closure? Probably. For seeing Hyunjin one last time and committing his features and mannerisms, anything and everything that made up him to memory? Definitely.

You had pushed the doors open softly, letting out a shaky breath and attempting to still your restless legs. Hyunjin was hard at work behind a large canvas, propped up on a wooden easel. His arm furiously brushed against the canvas, angry strokes slapping against the medium of artwork.

He didn't notice you, continuing his work, until you cleared your throat. "Hi," you said uncertainly. Hyunjin looked at you in perplexation, like a deer caught in headlights. Quickly turning around his easel and regaining his composure, he motioned for you to take a seat on the couch.

You took him in, the light streaming in from the large window bathing him in cold sunlight that glinted off the snow. He looked like he wasn't human. It hit you, the absurdity of it all. If there was one word you would use to describe Hwang Hyunjin, it would be human.

He captured humanity within him in the sweetest form possible. He wasn't the blueprint, not by any means; he could be petty, overly dramatic and had a bit of a temper. But he was kind-hearted, constantly curious and overwhelmingly empathetic. He was so perfectly imperfect that it was incredible to you how someone like him could be a product of society as cruel as this.

"I leave in a few weeks," he said almost ponderingly, breaking a silence that hung between the two of you that was, for the first time, uncomfortable.

"If you want, I can get you something," he enunciated. You knew there were several unsaid words on his end; there were some on yours as well. But you had almost no indication about what they could possibly be, and were itching to know what they were.

"We can't- we can't be friends," you blurted out.

Hyunjin's expression was one of expectation. So he knew this was coming. He sat down next to you and let out a resounding sigh.

"I know. I'll send you something from Paris anyways," he lightly responded, attempting to liven up the mood. You just raised a shoulder and the two of you sat there for what felt like hours. Finally, you got up and made your way to the door. But before that, you stopped.

"Do you mind if I see what you were painting?"

Hesitantly, Hyunjin turned the easel around. You were met with absolutely nothing, just splashes of water all over the canvas.

"Artist's block," he said matter-of-factly.

You nodded as if you understood, even though you didn't and walked out the door with a, "Thank you. I'm sorry."

Head hung in shame, you took a step outside. You were about to step out when a voice called out to you, "It was nice, to pretend. Even if it was just for a while."

You turned to give him a wry smile, "Thank you for making summer fun for me."

He would understand what you told him. You knew he would. But that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt. That was the last time you had ever physically seen Hwang Hyunjin, ever spoken to him.

He never sent you anything from Paris.

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While you wished that your relationship with Hyunjin would be one for the romcoms, your relationship with Hyun-jee was definitely one for the situational comedies. The rich girl becoming best friends with the new scholarship student? Cable TV viewer gold.

If you were being completely honest, the first time you met Hyun-jee you did find her a little bit stuck up. The two of you had to end up being friends though. Studying the same language, French, meant that she was your roommate for the four years you would spend at that high school (unbeknown to you then, she would spend another five years as your roommate in university).

Seeing Hyun-jee walk into the dorm room, decked in designer clothes and lugging a large suitcase behind her, was enough to demolish your self-confidence. The sight made you feel extremely self-conscious about your jeans, which were sporting gravy stains, and the mud brown sweater vest which your mother simply insisted you must buy.

All your fear disappeared, however, when one of Hyun-jee's heels (Dior!) caught on the edge of the living room carpet. She collapsed onto it, placing her palms face down to avoid hitting her face. She looked up at you.

"Hi, I'm Hyun-jee. I would shake your hand, but this is the unfortunate circumstance of letting my mother style me for the first day of school."

You laughed and offered her your hand and she held onto it, steadying to her feet. You gave her your name and a once-over to make sure she wasn't hurt. Then when you finally looked into her eyes, the two of you burst into laughter over the farcical situation that had just taken place. You both were wheezing by the end of your solid ten minute fit of laughter, laying on the couch in contorted positions and trying to catch your breath. Her eye caught yours, just setting of another bout of giggles.

You two had been inseparable ever since.

Hyun-jee wasn't as perfect as she was made out to be, and she had no shame in it. If she had the choice, she would go everywhere in her pajamas. She was horrible at Math and made fun of the World History teacher you both shared, convinced he was a Freemason. Hyun-jee was as human as one could get.

Even her parents were quite natural around you, or at least the cookies her mother sent everywhere which she and Hyun-jee baked made it seem that way. Hyun-jee was always sensitive when it came to the topic of her family. She skirted around it when it was a topic of conversation as if it was poison.

It wasn't that she had a bad relationship with them; she adored her family. She just seemed extremely uncomfortable about the topic, so you never really pried, instead regaling her with stories about your two younger sisters, parents and lineage of goldfish with abnormally high mortality rates.

There was moment in your life when you understood the gravity of just how alone people like Hyun-jee was in this world. You had noticed, that despite being extremely well-known and friendly with everyone, Hyun-jee could only call you her friend. On the other hand, you weren't at all as well known as Hyun-jee but had multiple friends.

That moment was at this end of the year party your academy was hosting to celebrate the end of exams. The upperclassmen were planning to go to another location, without teachers for an afterparty, but you had convinced Hyun-jee against attending it. She always had been the risk taker in your friendship.

You were walking around, checking off your social pleasantries. Light shone in the big auditorium and you swished around your floral flock. You caught Hyun-jee rejecting yet another poor guy (too bad he didn't know she was gay), and laughed a little to yourself. Even at fourteen, Hyun-jee had model-like looks. Probably because she inherited them.

You were lost in the moment of it all, entranced by the fact that you were even standing here. Coming to this prestigious international academy was your dream. It would kickstart your scientific career, which, back then, only revolved around discovering something incredible and winning a Nobel Peace Prize.

You came from an extremely mundane family. Middle class, living in a different country in a three bedroom apartment. Both of your parents worked in software engineering, and while you loved them for it, you couldn't help but find it slightly boring. You wanted to do something great, be someone great.

Hyun-jee must have walked over to you at some point in time when you hadn't noticed, because she laced her arms through the crook of your elbow and asked, "What's got you so concentrated, wife?"

Hyun-jee had a habit of jokingly calling you her wife, which you always entertained because why not? She had made it extremely clear that she would never date you, despite being romantically interested in women. "Eh, too nerdy," was her response when you asked why. She wasn't wrong though; if it wasn't for your 'nerdiness', you wouldn't be where you were.

You just shrugged in response to her question and turned to give her a smile. The expression you were met with gave you a bit of a surprise. For once in her life, Hwang Hyun-jee looked serious about something. Her normally mischievous eyes were now set in an unreadable expression.

"What is it?" you asked as the two of you headed to the buffet. Hyun-jee grabbed two plates, one for you and one for her, and proceeded to put a little bit of everything in her plate onto yours, despite you already having taken a lot.

She didn't give you a reply, instead opting to walk towards the table where you two had laid claim. You towed behind obediently, sitting down with a satisfied 'ah!' after having been standing for over an hour. You were digging into your food, relishing the taste of school food that was good for once (okay, that was a lie; your school actually gave you good food but that was only justified considering the insane costs).

"I was trying to figure out a way to say this but..." Hyun-jee's voice faltered.

Your glanced at her, finally looking up from your plate after eating like a starved, ravenous beast. Your eyes slightly widened. Did she not want to be friends with you anymore?

Hyun-jee took a visibly deep breath, "I just wanted to say thank you."

"Thank you for being my friend. I have never really had anyone to call my own. If anybody ever got close to me, it was just to take advantage of me or use me to gain access to my family. Especially when it comes to my brother that I mentioned, remember? Hyunjin. Guys aren't friends with me because they're intimidated by him and girls only become friends with me because they want to date him. All my life I have felt like nothing more than a porcelain doll, only valuable because I held the title of being a Hwang daughter. I was labelled before I was even born, I have had to wear that label, written all over myself with fake pride, even though it sickens me. That was until I met you though. As Disney cliché as it sounds, you not knowing anything about my family and treating me like a normal person has really made me feel seen this past couple of months. Thank you, Y/N, for being my friend. A real one."

Tears began streaming down your face and streaming down her face. Paired with the emotional word vomit that Hyun-jee had just placed before you and both of you being on your menstrual cycles, this was kind of bound to happen.

You reached over to give her hand a squeeze. You were unable to say anything, partly because you were choked up with emotion and mostly because you had stuffed an entire slice of chocolate cake into your mouth while Hyun-jee was in the middle of her monologue.

That was the day that you made sure to make Hyun-jee never feel used, and that started with keeping her family at a seven-foot man's arm's length.

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seven months before.

Needless to say, your friendship with Hyun-jee wasn't always perfect. One topic that often came up during arguments was stepping out of the house. Hyun-jee was naturally more extroverted whereas you preferred the comfort of your home.

You both came up with a plan to alternatively go out and stay in while you both were roommates in college and this practice continued well after Hyun-jee had graduated.

Hyun-jee had dragged you to this upper class, high profile party as her plus one. Her girlfriend was at her parents' home and Hyun-jee simply 'could not go alone or would combust'. Regret at deciding to attend university in Korea was palpable in you (but no where else would you get delicious kimchi).

Beads of sweat clung to your forehead as you surveyed your surroundings. The party was filled with almost-drunk socialites, foreshadowing business deals and gossiping with each other. You rarely attended such events with Hyun-jee; this was her circle, not yours. You always overthought every little interaction that you had with one of them, turning it over in your head millions of times.

Even at such an event taking place at a simple rooftop resto-bar, you spotted the occasional man wearing an entire three piece set and woman rocking an evening gown. You had confirmed with Hyun-jee about what the dress code was multiple times leading up to the event, not ready to lose face in front of such prestigious people. She kept reassuring you that it was 'casual'. Clearly, the upper class' definition of casual and yours were worlds apart.

You were wearing a black, tight crop top, white skirt and white jacket that was currently below your shoulders and in caught in the crook of your elbows. You had already fended off quite a few men approaching you with a look in their eyes which made you quite uncomfortable. Having excused yourself uncountable times using numerous excuses (you had to put use to the skills that you had picked up on as an ambivert), you decided to step out onto the open area to catch some fresh air.

You glanced at the cup in your hand, not knowing where it came from. It definitely looked alcohol though, and you sent a small glare towards the cup while you set it on the first surface that you could fine. You drank sometimes, but today you opted against it. You were going to be driving yourself home and knew that Hyun-jee was going to be wasted, having lost her a few minutes after entering the premises. 

You knew that Hyunjin was there too, and were uneasy at the prospect of seeing him again. After the ski lodge, you never really met him again. He had taken you phone number once while he dropped of you and Hyun-jee snowboarding while you were there at their lodge. You both rarely texted, never going beyond the cordial 'happy birthday's' and exchanging wishes during various holidays. He never questioned why you stopped coming to the library, just giving you an understanding nod when you linked arms with Hyun-jee and looked at him with guilt evident in you eyes.

Deciding to ditch whatever the hell this glorified adult frat party, you made your way to the front door when you caught sight of Hyunjin. He sat near the door, scrolling on his phone. He seemed as uninterested to be here as you were. His hair was black now, slightly wavy at the end. You knew that; of course you knew. You followed him on social media and witnessed his hair evolution, praying for his scalp while you did so.

"Hi Hyunjin," you said hesitantly. Hyunjin glanced at you, surprise evident in his face while his eyes scanned yours, "I was just about to head out. I thought I'd stop by and say hello."

"Oh, you're leaving?" he questioned in a tone of confusion laced with something else. Recognition, maybe. "Call me when you get home, so I know you're safe."

He must have noticed you expression of apprehension, because he quickly added, "So I can let Hyun-jee know when we drive home of course. I think she mentioned that we're driving to our parents house tonight."

You aren't shocked by his request, knowing how protective (and worried to death) he can be, but were taken aback at the fact that he did not want nothing to do with you. "I actually wasn't planning on going home," you told him.

At that, it was Hyunjin's turn to wear an expression of surprise. You drank in his features as you noticed the gears twisting in his head. He was thinking hard about something. Deciding that this was his way of dismissing you, you headed towards the door that led to the stairwell that would take you downstairs. Abruptly appearing beside you was Hyunjin, giving you a small tap on your shoulder.

He offered you a small smile. "Mind if I join you?"

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Hyunjin was probably at that party because of his presence in the art world. Something about his art always spoke to you, in ways the no other piece of media ever did. You always proudly reminisced about how Hyunjin showed you artwork that summer that he hadn't ever shown anyone else.

His artwork was capable of moving someone without words. You could nearly feel the emotion pouring out of him and onto his canvas. It was like his paintbrush was just an extension of himself. Everything, from the colours he used to the angle of his brushstrokes were calculated measures, all joining in the most radiant harmony of pure artwork.

After a small discussion of where to go, you both decided that it would be best to catch some fresh air and then proceed to go your separate ways. You both walked a little ways down to an old park.

You were still processing the entire situation, marveling at how on earth you managed to keep your cool the entire walk here. You both didn't say a word while on your way to the park, walking in silence. Hyunjin had his hands jammed into his pockets while you played with the strings of your jacket, curling them in and out.

That was when Hyunjin spotted a playset, smack dab in the middle of the aforementioned park.

"Come on," he squealed excitedly, "Let's go on the swing set."

You couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter. No 'hi' or 'how is life', but suggesting swing set antics instead? Gosh, he was so endearing. You both didn't really talk much, just exchanged giggles as you swung as high up as possible. Finally, after around ten minutes of swinging and one rendition of 'I Believe I Can Fly,' you both finally came down.

A part of you still loved him, didn't it?

It was dark, but you didn't really care. You were with Hyunjin and the area was known to be one of the safer, more-family centric parts of the city you lived in. You sat on the grass, knees brought up to your chest. Your arms wrapped around them while you closed your eyes, a small breeze whipping around you. It was strong enough to keep you cool yet gentle enough to not cause your hair to be similar in nature to that of a tornado.

Hyunjin observed you silently, leaning back on the grass with the help of his forearms. His legs were sprawled in front of him and he broke the silence with a casual, "How's life?"

You suppressed the urge to burst out into laughter. Imagine being asked by one of the hottest men you had ever seen, and had objectively been in love with for the longest, ask you 'how's life'. Adding to that, he was asking you the said question after suggesting that you both swing on a swing set.

"Fine, I guess. I'll be submitting my thesis, hopefully by the end of summer and then receive my doctorate," you replied, ignoring the rapid thumping in your chest.

You were not going to be held captive by a high school crush. You were so much better than that. You hadn't physically seen Hyunjin is over five years. He could have changed completely for all you knew. He could have had a girlfriend (which Hyun-jee would have told you about if that was the case, but you never know), maybe even a wife. And yet, that familiar feeling of wanting curled through your bones, engulfing you.

The two of you started talking about your lives, him as a painter and you as a final year PhD student.

"Hmm," he hummed in contemplation to something you had said, "You know, I always liked your company more then Hyun-jee's. Don't tell her though." He had mischievous look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, eliciting a laugh from within you and bringing back a memory you had forgotten.

You were still slightly awed by the fact that the Hwang Hyun-jee invited you to spend summer with her. At a ski lodge. A fricking ski lodge! The shocking revelation that you could be considered cool enough to hang out with her and her brother were the thoughts in your head as you stared at the copy of Emma in your hands, pretending to read the text.

Beside you, you could hear the steady scratching of pencil against paper, interrupted only by the symphony of an eraser rubbing against the sheet. This little orchestra playing next to you was evidence of Hyunjin's existence, an art in itself if anyone asked you.

"You should teach me French," he asks you out of the blue, "For when if leave to go to Paris."

You look at him inquisitively. He told you that he got accepted into art school in Paris a few days ago. You did feel sad about the fact that he was going, but deep down you knew very well that practically, after this summer your interactions with Hyunjin would be few and far in between.

"You have Hyun-jee, she can teach you. If, that is, you can put up with her," you retort teasingly.

Hyunjin gives you a sly smirk, "That's exactly why I was asking you. I think I'll like your style of teaching better. And so, I want you to please, please, please teach me French."

You had no idea where this sudden newfound confidence to flirt with Hyunjin had bloomed within you but, oh well, you only live once. "Do you want me teaching you, or just me in general?"

"Ah," he said shaking his head regretfully with a smile, "Even though you have only known me for a few weeks, you already know me too well."

Butterflies ignite in your stomach, although you're pretty sure he was just playing along with you. You wonder what he's sketching, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes set in concentration. Even though you have a feeling it isn't, you sincerely hope it's you.

You don't know that your hopeful assumption was true.

A tightening in you chest starts to grow when the topic shifts to love. Earlier, talking to Hyunjin about love used to come as easy walking on your two feet. Now, it just hurts. He asked you if you were seeing someone. You promptly replied in the negative. You asked him if he was seeing someone. He reflected your answer back onto you.

But what did it really mean? You were always going to be bound in this life by that unspoken oath you made to Hyun-jee all those years ago. It wasn't even about love anymore, it was about not breaking another person's trust, a person who you held closer to your heart than most of your family.

You started thinking though. What was the point of hiding your feelings, old or not, from Hyunjin any longer? It wasn't like you could act on it, but you may as well have told him. Maybe then a huge weight from your chest would be released and you wouldn't be shackled by commitments, things you felt you owed to both of them.

"I don't think you know this but," your expression suddenly changed, "I used to have the biggest crush on you that summer."

"Used to?" At this point, Hyunjin is sitting up straight, eyeing you curiously. You roll your eyes and give him a playful slap on his arm. His expression, however, turns into one of regret. You begin to feel remorseful about telling him, paranoia settling in and molding itself into the fabric of who you were.

"That's a shame," he says quietly.

The air changes, charged with something you can't quite place. Hyunjin holds eye contact with you, unsaid words coursing through them. You never really believed in the phrase 'the eye is the window to the soul', but right now, you were terrified of whatever the hell your eyes were revealing to him right now. Hyunjin then proceeds to utter something, something so capable of infusing you with poisoned hope, that it takes your breath away.

"I think I would have loved loving you."

Time has stopped. Feelings of desperation, annihilation and most importantly, temptation, cascade in a whirlpool inside you. It had been years. This was wrong. This was the universe dangling temptation in front of you, urging you to just take a bite. Rebelliously, you wondered, what if you were selfish for one? Why were you feeling this way now?

"I think I would have loved being loved by you," you whisper back. Hyunjin's hand laces through yours and gives it a little squeeze in response.

That is when it dawns on you that Hyunjin is as confined in this matter as you, if not more. Hyun-jee is his sister for God's sake; whatever guilt you felt in wanting him, he must have felt tenfold in wanting you. You know exactly what the little squeeze he gave you signifies: It will pass. If it cannot be, it will cease.

And you know it's true because you and Hyunjin can never be 'us' or 'we' as long as you were present in this reality. You wished there was a universe somewhere, a parallel reality when Hyunjin and you were considered of one breath because to breath you would need him like oxygen.

Judging by his expression, he must have been drifting in thought about that too.

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Hyunjin was a hopeless romantic. Everyone he knew was painfully aware of that. He romanticized love in all it's aspects and yearned for it like a prerequisite for living. His standards were obnoxiously high though, and he had never met anyone even close to reaching them.

The thing was, Hyunjin didn't have high standards when it came to a romantic partner. He had high standards in what to expect during a relationship with said partner. Having never been in love himself, he could only witness it through other's experiences.

Until he had met you.

The first time he had seen you, you seemed unremarkable. Not in a rude way, of course, it was just that nothing about you really stood out to him that way. Hyunjin was a firm advocate of 'love at first sight' not being a logical concept. How on earth could you love someone without intertwining the fibers of being that made you with the strands of life that made them?

But then, when you walked into their hauntingly large ski lodge, your face full of wonder, Hyunjin felt an overwhelming calling of entrapping that moment forever. Your expression was so pure that is caught him off guard. He forgot what it was like to see some genuinely enjoy something. That night, he was sitting on his bed sketching something without any clear intention. The end result bore an uncanny resemblance to you.

Soon enough, the two of you began to spend exponentially increasing amounts of time together. Hyunjin was quite introverted, which was in stark contrast to the rest of his family. His mother used to also like spending her time in a lot, but nearly twenty five years of marriage to his father had definitely worn off on her.

The first time you stumbled into the library, you had audibly gasped. Hyunjin peered up, only his eyes visible, the rest of his face covered by the easel. When he saw that it was you, a small smile broke across his face and he sent you a wave, striking up a conversation with you and inviting you to sit down with him.

Hyunjin even knew exactly when realized that he had fallen in love with you. It was around a month into your three month stay with them. You were on the couch, laying down on your belly and Hyunjin was on a bean bag, munching on popcorn. You had a blanket covering you and a book in your hand, but your eyes stayed on Hyunjin as you both talked.

"I have a question," asked Hyunjin in between his mouthful of popcorn.

You rolled over into a position of sitting, legs crossed underneath you. "Before you ask, my interpretation of the meaning of life is pining for Michael B. Jordan against all odds. Blame Hyun-jee for forcing his movies down my throat and coming to me about her daily rants about how he is the only exception to her sexuality and how she would elope with him in a heartbeat."

Hyunjin shook his head with a laugh and passed you the bowl of popcorn. Having been on the receiving end of the conversation one too many times himself, he could quote Michael B. Jordan's monologue from Black Panther nearly perfectly.

"What I actually wanted to ask was whether or not you're happy with what you plan on studying in the future," Hyunjin asked curiously. You always avoided the topic of this, reiterating your love for Science time and again but always talking about how you planned on taking an English course on the side while in university.

At his question, your face fell a little bit. "Oh, well," you said sadly, "Truthfully, not really. But it's what my parents want me to do. I figured that if I did what they wanted me to do, then my sisters could be given a little more freedom at what they wanted to do."

Hyunjin's lips slightly parted, turning over your words in his head. Your selflessness really hit home, especially when he was so extremely selfish. He suddenly felt like he didn't belong to even be in your presence, and yet cherished it nonetheless.

"I have always been so adamant about becoming an artist that I never thought that it could lead to Hyun-jee potentially thinking that she doesn't have an option other than taking over the company," fell Hyunjin's confession from his lips. His eyes swirled with shame.

"If I'm being honest, she might have felt that way initially, but she truly loves the business Hyunjin," you told him comfortingly.

"You're a good person," he whispered to you softly.

"I'm not," you laughed condescendingly, "I'm really not."

Hyunjin's heart broke when those words flew out of your mouth. He wished he saw yourself at the standard that he did. But his heart pieced back together when he realized that he loved you. The realization dawned upon him when it hit him that your laugh, in no matter which context, seemed to lull him like a siren's call and draw him towards.

Later that day, Hyunjin called up seven of his closest friends to lament about his unfortunate predicament. He had all the textbook symptoms: gazing at you when you didn't notice, making up excuses just to be close to you and turning a fire hydrant reminiscent shade or red whenever he was near you (to the point where you would often end enquiring about his health).

"You are down bad in love," declared Changbin over the phone. Hyunjin decided against telling him that he had self-diagnosed himself before seeking anyone else's consul.

Hyunjin wasn't blind either though. He knew you felt something towards and although he couldn't quite pinpoint whether is bordered on love or like, he was quite content with simply knowing. It was extremely evident to him, in the way you began stuttering when he started flirting with you and the blush that would creep up your neck (albeit less pathetically obvious as his) when his fingers would accidentally or otherwise brush against yours.

He knew though, that blushes and wandering eyes was all your relationship ever could be.

He loved you, but by extension he loved his sister more. The night she came home to him, eyes puffy from crying and making him swear that he would never date one of her friends in the occasion that she ever did make a real one.

In that moment, Hyunjin made an oath encased in salty tears and bruised emotions that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

When you stopped coming to the library to squander away your time with Hyunjin, he knew he should have expected it. If you hadn't initiated the distance, then he would have been the one to do so, knowing it to be imperative when Hyun-jee questioned him on the nature of the both of yours's relationship.

He couldn't create anything, however. It was like your presence was what gave him the patience and creativity to actually go through with fishing a piece of art. He was frightened to death at the prospect of never being able to make something again if you weren't there.

Slowly, he realized that that wasn't actually the case. He could still paint, still draw, because he found love and emotions in so many other places.

Hyunjin found love in the way dewdrops beaded flowers, he found love in the cobblestoned alleyways of Paris and in the steaming mug of Americano he would drink every morning. He came to understand that he could pull inspiration from any love, romantic or otherwise.

But all of them paled in comparison to the love he held for you.

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five months before.

You were lounging in Hyun-jee and her girlfriend, Reina's apartment, which was practically your second home. The three of you went to the same university, one of the most prestigious in Seoul, and were quite a formidable trio. Hyun-jee was studying in business school, you were studying bio-chemistry and Reina was a lawyer in the making.

People had a tendency to stay away from the three of you.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor of their apartment, back resting against the leather couch. Reina was in the shower and Hyun-jee scrolled on her phone. You gazed at the blank wall, completely zoning out from reality.

"Oh," Hyun-jee said with a small smirk, "Hyunjin is coming over."

You tried to hide your surprise and anticipation. Excitement brewed a sickly solution within you as Hyun-jee caught your eye and sent a wink your way, signaling that she would be teasing her brother mercilessly upon his arrival.

Her grin faltered, however, when she her eyes went to her screen which lit up with yet another text message, presumably from Hyunjin.

"Oh. He's bringing a girl."

At that, you jerked your head up to Hyun-jee's, leaving your task of picking at your nails behind. She just gave you a shrug, indicating that she had no idea about any of this either. You studied Hyun-jee's reaction to this carefully. If anything she seemed unfazed.

Jealousy and anger pooled within you. You wished that it was you who Hyunjin was bringing, which was absolutely absurd because you were already in Hyun-jee's apartment. The girl he was bringing would probably be beautiful. At least, far more than you.

In the events that followed leading up to Hyunjin's arrival, you were halfway here and halfway not. Reina had come out of the shower, Hyun-jee had ordered some food, Reina had put on a movie, Hyun-jee had given her a kiss; everything happened around you presently, but you yourself weren't present.

Oh. He's bringing a girl.

You resorted to biting your lip anxiously, drawing blood even. Ah well. Small problems compared to the things people have to face all over the world on the daily. But it should have been duly noted that your small problems felt gigantic to you.

Sighing and attempting to kill time, you decided to be extremely unproductive and watch a romcom. They really did help make up for the lack of romance in your life (as if). Eventually, however, you got bored and instead switched your screen to watch a zombie movie.

You were sitting on one of the three barstools that lined the marble island countertop. Your hands were propped up on your elbows and you had managed to precariously balance your phone against a jar of strawberry jam.

You heard the doorbell ring amidst the screams coming from your earphones. Quickly stuffing away your phone in your pocket in the name of courtesy, you cupped your chin with your hand.

Reina went to open the door and in waltzed Hyunjin in all his glory followed by, yep, only the most drop dead gorgeous woman you had ever seen.

He quickly made introductions, introducing her as Ellie. You avoided Hyunjin's eyes like the plague as you offered her a smile that you hoped looked genuine because it most certainly was not.

Ellie was extremely sweet. She even brought cookies. Ellie laughed and smiled and made herself feel comfortable. You laughed and smiled and contemplated what life would be like in jail if you committed murder.

You couldn't help it. Jealousy came to you in waves inhibiting your sense of everything and clouding your judgement. You hoped the scowl on your face wasn't obvious as you offered to go bring plates for the pizza in an attempt to excuse yourself from the conversation taking place.

"Oppa," nudged Hyun-jee, "Go help her."

Hyunjin stood up and approached you the way one approached a hungry tiger. His smile was warm and inviting but his eyes reflected well deserved caution. He attempted at making conversation with you but you only answered with nods and hums.

Eventually, he just gave up and sat on a bar stool sprinkling seasoning over the freshly delivered pizza. "I'm surprised you got your girlfriend here," you broke the silence, the snark in your voice painfully audible.

"Why?" Hyunjin's eyes trailed up from his tedious task and surveyed you carefully.

"Well, after our conversation that night..."

Irritation flashed in Hyunjin's eyes. "Not all of us can pine over someone we know we can never be with," he huffed.

You blinked for a second, something suspiciously wet prickling the depths of your eyes. What? To him, this might have been just a casual passing comment. To you, this was venom, seeping into your heart and poisoning it.

"Maybe if I didn't have unreasonably high standards of love, I would be better at holding onto it," you rebutted harshly without even thinking about the consequences of what you had said.

Hyunjin's face wore the undeniable expression of shock. In the heat of the moment, you felt almost angry at him. How could he say something so cruel and not expect you to give a befitting reply in return?

Then, the effect of your entire conversation weighed upon you. Gasping at your insolence, you turned around and felt a drop of water slide down the side of your cheek. You wondered if Hyunjin's eyes became a catchment area for tears the way yours did, pushing violently to be let out in a torrent.

Afterwards, you barely spoke to anyone. Quickly eating a slice of the unfortunately delicious pizza, you cited sickness as a reason to not be a present of the lovely and suicidal thought inducing situation you were stuck in.

Making a mental note to ask Hyun-jee where she ordered the pizza from, you headed home, thinking and over thinking your conversation with Hyunjin. The entire scene replayed in your head multiple times but one thought was annoyingly persistent: You went from loving Hyunjin, to somewhat professing said love for him, to giving him very, very good reason to despise you.

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the day of.

Hyun-jee was finally turning a year older and after spending her last six birthdays in the comfort of only you and Reina, this year she was planning a lavish one week beach getaway. All her closest friends were coming which honestly wasn't a lot: just you, Hyunjin, Reina and one of Hyun-jee's cousin's and her boyfriend.

You hoped that tensions would be alleviated between you and Hyunjin considering that you both hadn't communicated a word to each other since the mini argument you both had five months ago. Surprisingly enough, Hyunjin broke up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago, after only a short two months of dating.

You gulped in fear at the thought of you and Hyunjin being the only single people on the trip. Mustering up courage nonetheless, you sat in the taxi that was taking you on the way to the resort lobby where you would meet the others.

Sitting in the car, you decided to try and get some more writing for dissertation done. You already had all your research and citations compiled; all you had to do was type it all up and submit it. Hell, you even had your thoughts in order, but every time you opened up that blank document and watched the cursor blinking at you, all your motivation vanished into thin air.

Not wanting to put yourself through any more torture, you decided to open up your phone and scroll aimlessly through social media. The thought of a beach getaway excited you. After working to death's end for the last few months, you knew you had earned a well deserved break.

When the taxi pulled up to the resort, you got out and closed your eyes at the salty breeze that hit your face. You didn't care that the wind blowing around did not, in fact, make your hair look like it was in a shampoo commercial and instead made it look like the individual strands were having a seizure. The cool air was a welcome contrast to the stuffy interior of the airplane and subsequent taxi you had taken to get here.

You walked into the large reception lobby, trying not to gasp at the sight in front of you. Large potted plants lined the walkway with a humongous fountain of an angel in the middle. Golf carts whizzed around you and servers carrying bottles of champagne and rose offered you kind smiles.

Noticing that Hyun-jee and the other's had just arrived then, you raced up to her, lugging your suitcase behind you. Hyun-jee face lit up as soon as she saw you. Throwing her hands around your neck and pulling you in for a hug, the two of you giggled after she stumbled on a stray pebble. Giving everyone else a warm grins and nods, your eyes met Hyunjin and he offered you a tight smile in acknowledgement.

This was going to be a long week.

Hyun-jee walked up to the receptionist to ask for all of yours's rooms. While she was busy with that, you took out your phone and clicked pictures of everything. You never really posted pictures like these (or any in general), rarely ever active on sites like Instagram unless the occasion called for obsessive internet stalking (which you were questionably amazing at). Instead, you sent all these pictures to your sisters, mostly to make them feel jealous because that was a very older sibling-like thing to do.

Snorting at your youngest sister's almost instantaneous response, which was a string of emojis containing mostly eye-roll emojis, you didn't notice Hyun-jee walk back to the group. You noticed the worried expression on her face, taking in her knitted eyebrows. She had been spending a lot of time sorting out the reservation with the receptionist.

"Guys, I'm really sorry but turns out I forgot to reserve the rooms and I'm so sorry and-"

"Breathe, Hyun-jee," Hyunjin cut her off and placed his hand on her right shoulder.

Hyun-jee took a deep breath, the guilt simmering in her eyes. She sneaked a quick glance at you for reassurance and you notedly obliged, shooting her a thumbs up.

Hyun-jee was nothing short of a perfectionist. Lately, she had been spending literal days at her office, wrapping up an important business deal. Always having everything planned, always knowing the exact details of everything was something she prided herself on.

"So- so here's the thing. I have booked three rooms right now which are on the same floor. Two of them have one bedroom and the third-" Hyun-jee slowly glanced at you and Hyunjin, "And the third is one room but with two beds."

Oh, so then you would still be able to stay here. Perfect. Oh. You would have to share a room with Hyunjin.

Hyun-jee looked at the both of you nervously, gauging your reactions. You hadn't told her about your petty little conversation with Hyunjin and assumed that he hadn't either. His eyes widened with shock and met yours, but a wave of understanding passed through the both of you: you would tolerate it because it was Hyun-jee's birthday and she was the priority here.

"Is that okay?" Hyun-jee stuttered softly.

Reina had walked over to Hyun-jee and wrapped her arms around her waist. Hyun-jee's cousin, Byeol, assured her that the arrangement was just fine.

Not wanting to worry Hyun-jee further, Hyunjin hastily replied, "Yes, yes, of course."

You spared him a glance before your eyes went to Hyun-jee's once again, and with a smile you hoped did not look stressed, you added on, "Yep. I mean, it's just a week, isn't it?"

Hyun-jee let out a sigh of relief and reached out to give your hand a squeeze. Absentmindedly, you gave her a distracted smile. Your mind was on other things, Hwang Hyunjin and the prospect of sharing a room with him at the forefront of your long train of thought.

It would be fine, right? After all, there were two beds. And as absurd as the entire situation was, you had read enough romcoms and watched enough Hallmark movies to know that the real problems only began when there was just one bed. Which there wasn't. Unfortunately.

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Hyunjin had graciously offered you to take a shower first. Stripping bare, you felt the lukewarm water hit your skin as you went through the itinerary of the day ahead in your brain again.

1: Lunch at a cute rooftop restaurant that Hyun-jee had (for real this time), reserved.

2: Coming back to the resort get changed into your bathing suits.

3: Fulfilling the 'beach' part of the beach getaway.

4: Sleep, maybe.

5: Bonfire dinner!

You came out of the shower wearing tank tops and jeans shorts, a wet towel in your hand. Hyunjin strewn was on his bed (closer to the door), texting someone, or in his case, multiple someones. You assumed it was a group chat because the screen lit up with a notification numerous times.

The sight of Hyunjin biting his lip to stop himself from bursting out in laughter while wearing nothing but (at least you assumed it was nothing) a bathrobe did things to you that most definitely should not have been done.

For the sake of your sanity, you cleared you throat as a sign of banishing Hyunjin to the shower. He gave you a nod, grabbed his towel, and walked away. You let out a sigh and after hanging your towel on the balcony railing, dramatically fell onto your bed.

Hyunjin hadn't really told you much after you both entered the room. He only offered to let you shower first. You were brushing your hair and humming in partial contentment. You had resulted against washing your hair, knowing you would wash it again after coming back from the beach.

You're Taylor Swift album marathon was rudely, in you humble opinion, interrupted by the sound of a door opening. You were met, however, with an ethereal looking Hwang Hyunjin, fresh out of a shower. Beads of water hung to his neck and the tips of his hair. You were overcoming by an extremely concerning urge to lick them off.

Although Hyunjin was currently very aggressively wiping his hair with his towel, he had a smirk on his face, an obvious indication of him noticing you checking out. You looked away with a cough and a blush. Hyunjin fell onto his bed with an oomf and laid on his back while playing games on his phone.

You decided to break the ice wall erected between the two of you by blurting out, "I'm sorry for what I said that night. You didn't deserve to here any of that."

Hyunjin looked up from his phone in surprise. He studied you for a moment. Hyunjin finally broke the agonizing silence. "Likewise. I genuinely apologize for anything I may have said that night," he hesitated, "Does this mean that we can go back to normal?"

You gave him a small smile and a nod, although you knew just as well as him that there was no 'we' to go back to normal too.

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All throughout lunch, you failed at acknowledging the close proximity between you and Hyunjin. He sat next to you because, who was he to sit with somebody else's significant other? His thigh was pressed against yours and his fingers brushed yours over and over again.

"So, um, I heard about your breakup. How have you been holding up?" you asked. You wanted a gauge on how depressing your de facto roommate would act over the week.

"Oh," he responded nonchalantly, "I never really saw it as a relationship. We just weren't compatible at all."

Your brain processed his words as your eyes trailed the plate of seafood kebabs being brought to your table. You were in the process of eating one when Hyunjin added, "I think I might actually like someone else, and I'm not one for emotional cheating."

It's safe to say that the hot sauce you dipped the kebab in went down the wrong pipe.

After that tantalizingly long endeavor you had just undertaken, you were back in the comfort of your hotel room. You and Hyunjin decided that you would change in the bathroom while he would change in the actual room itself.

You had absolutely no intention of actually getting into the ocean water. It was getting late (yes, you considered three in the afternoon late) and you were not a big fan of swimming, despite having learnt it when you were younger. Your outfit was extremely simple, consisting of a sage green crop top, white long flowy skirt, a pair of sandals and finally a cute tote bag to store your camera, books and other essentials.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you did a little twirl to check if the skirt was spin worthy. Hyunjin watched you with a smile and give you a small clap after you were done. You blushed profusely, his existence somehow (?!) completely slipping from your mind.

"You look beautiful," said Hyunjin kindly with a wide smile.

"So do you," you replied breathlessly.

Hyunjin looked effortlessly attractive in a white button up that was half untucked and loose black pants. The first button was undone and you could see a shark bone necklace perfect encapsulated in the dip of his collarbone.

You were imagining how it would feel to run your fingers along it when Hyunjin asked, "Don't plan on swimming? I know I don't."

"Nope," you replied sheepishly as you both walked out the hotel door, "I actually have a fear of the ocean, as embarrassing as it sounds."

"It isn't embarrassing. I get nightmares about carrots," Hyunjin confessed with a shudder. You snickered at his words.

Hyunjin's hand lightly held your arm and guided you towards the right direction. The feel of his skin on yours completely wiped away your initial mortification at walking in the completely opposite direction.

He dropped your arm as spontaneously as he held it and you both stood awkwardly in the lobby, waiting for Hyun-jee and Reina. Byeol wasn't feeling well (she could come up with a better excuse) so her and her boyfriend went ahead with the decision of staying in.

The four of you walked out the resort in animated chatter. Being more of a listener yourself, you took a backseat as Hyunjin and Hyun-jee wildly gesticulated about work, life and (for some reason) the benefits of chocolate milk. Reina passed you a knowing smile; the two siblings once brought together could not shut up for the life of them.

You noticed Hyun-jee hanging back. She waited for you to catch up to her and said, "I'm sorry about the arrangement. It can't be easy for you."

You looked at her questioningly, "Why wouldn't it be easy?"

"Well, you both don't really know each other that well. To top it all off, Hyune oppa stopped seeing that Ellie girl. He hasn't been moping around much, probably because it only lasted like a month."

Hyun-jee paused and continued in a whisper, "I think she was more into him than he was into her."

You just laugh with a shake of your head and run up to Reina, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Through the corner of your eye, you see Hyunjin observing the three of you with a sad smile. You instantly feel guilt at leaving him out, even though the three of you were close friends long before Hyunjin came into the picture.

When you finally reach the beach, everyone settles into their designated role. Reina and Hyun-jee play volleyball with a bunch of locals while you and Hyunjin retreated under a covered cabana. Hyunjin sat on one side of it, sketching on his sketch pad, while you laid down on the other side, indulging in a mystery thriller.

Old habits really do die hard.

You turned to look at Hyunjin. The expression of concentration on his face was still the same. His hair was longer now though, and locks of it fell into his eyes. You felt the urge to push it away and subconsciously, ended up doing so.

He looked up at you. "Oh, um, your hair, I-" you stammered incoherently.

Hyunjin let out a chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you."

He turned back to his unfinished sketch and you put your book back in your tote bag. Wanting to stretch your legs, you noticed a dock like structure stretching out over the vast expanse of sea. Hyun-jee beckoned you towards her and the two of you set off to take pictures near that dock.

It felt slippery, at first, but eventually, you and Hyun-jee caught your balance. The farther out you went, the deeper was the ocean. The colors all blended to create beautiful hues of blue. They eerily mimicked the same hues that you currently were living in.

Hyun-jee's arms were full of shells, multicolored and all shaped differently. You both were so engrossed in picking at them that you didn't notice that you almost reached the end of the dock. Your sandal got caught on one of the stray nails.

And then you slipped.

And then you fell.

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Funnily enough, the only thought in your mind while you were falling was how the whistling of the wind sounded like that of a tea kettle. You had only heard the sound of a tea kettle once before, at your grandmother's house. Your mom decided to take out the old blue kettle that laid forgotten under the stove and decided to whip up some chamomile tea with it.

What an odd thing to reminisce about.

After what felt like hours, your body hit the water. The screams you were initially hearing were now muffled. Water attacked you, dragging you downwards. You did learn how to swim, but your body felt like it was made up of bricks and lead, not skin and bones.

Instinctively, you closed your eyes and tried to throw your hands up. In an attempt to get an intake of breath, you opened your mouth. What a stupid mistake. Seawater and other substances flooded into your mouth. Bile rose up but you couldn't close your mouth. When you finally could, you were compelled to close it.

You felt your brain separate from your body, as if you were just watching what was happening and weren't present in the situation. All sense of time was gone. You had never felt more helpless and locked out of your body before. Tears streamed down your face, but it didn't matter because all of you was drenched anyways.

You felt your consciousness slip, and felt a peculiar serenity that you had never felt before. You were floating out of your body now, your mind keenly observing the vessel that was once you, flailing about like a fish out of water.

How ironic.

People said that drowning was the worst way to die.

Wait, what? What were you even thinking?

You were dying.

You were dying.

No. No, you couldn't die. There was so much left for you to see, to experience. You wanted a stable job, a family. You wanted to taste what a snickerdoodle cookie was like and wanted to see Olivia Rodrigo in concert. But most of all, you wanted to live.

Life was so beautiful. All the dips and highs and small straight lines made it an endless rollercoaster, yes, but it was a ride you were not ready to get off yet. If you lived after this, you told yourself, you would be selfish and do what you wanted.

You wanted to submit your thesis and and stand on that podium, certificate in hand. You wanted to go on a date with Hyunjin and did not care about whoever objected otherwise. You wanted to be Hyun-jee's bridesmaid when she and Reina got married in San Diego. You wanted to tell your parents you loved them and wanted to watch your sisters grow up.

You wanted, and wanted, and wanted and that was enough to keep you some kind of awake and alert.

You felt a pair of arms around your waist and another hoisting you up. Concerned chatter and sighs of relief were sounds that managed to seep through the thrumming in your ears. Opening your eyes and letting it adjust to the light, you collapsed onto the dock. You threw up whatever was inside of you, feeling someone patting your back.

Somebody helped you stand up, since you were still shaken up by the whole incident. You could see a small crowd on the actual beach and a drenched Reina in front of you. Hyunjin must have been the one holding you up then.

Hyun-jee face was frozen in shock, eyes still glued to the place where you had fallen. When she finally looked up at you, she let out a choked sob, and eventually a torrent of tears fell from her eyes. Watching her cry made you cry, as you were gently tugged back to the beach by Hyunjin.

He sat you down on the edge of the cabana you both had occupied earlier. A lifeguard was rushing over to you, checking vitals and making sure you weren't having any problems with your breath. After you felt like you were in a sober state capable to answer questions, you rattled off responses in a monotonous tone.

"Considering she was in the water for just under a minute," confirmed the lifeguard, "She should be fine."

Worry was still etched on everyone's faces though, frustrating you. You were not okay, and you knew that. Not being okay after such an incident was to be expected of you. But you were not okay in a way that couldn't be helped by them. You had no such severe physical injuries or major repercussions; but mentally?

You weren't quite sure your mind was even yours.

You assured everyone that you were okay over and over again. Hyunjin grabbed a blanket from a kind family also on vacation, offering you some water and hydrated salts as well. After thanking them profusely, you stumbled into the taxi that Hyun-jee had booked. While Hyun-jee and Reina stayed behind to file formalities with the local authorities, Hyunjin volunteered to take you back to the hotel room.

The entire sequences of events left you so dazed, that you couldn't even process what was happening. Sitting in the taxi and reflecting on what happened finally allowed the physical effects of almost drowning to settle deep into your bones.

It started with the shivering, your body uncontrollably shaking. You could feel someone's arms - Hyunjin's - wrap around you and start rubbing your sides. Then came to coughing, your throat parched and desperate for water. Through it all though, your mind stayed fixed at one point.

There was a light. And peace. So much peace it felt nearly unnatural.

You began sobbing. Your head was throbbing and the entire world felt dizzy. Hot tears streamed down your face. You could feel some rubbing circles on your back, hear someone comforting you. But you weren't present in the situation itself. Words blended into white noise and everything hurt.

The entire time, from Hyunjin helping you out of the car to Hyun-jee clearing the way to your hotel room, your brain was on autopilot. It wasn't that you were thinking about something else; you just couldn't think. You wanted silence and quiet.

As soon as Hyunjin closed the door, you slumped against it, dragging Hyunjin down with you. You entire body was still covered in water, but you didn't care. You couldn't even take in complete breaths; the lack of dryness on your skin didn't even occur to you.

Hyunjin put his chin on your head and whispered, "Just breathe. It'll all be over soon."

As your breathing and heart rate slowed, you became distinctly aware of the fact that you were currently covered in dirty water and the pee of aquatic animals. Breaking away from Hyunjin's comforting hold, you let out an incoherent string of words, grabbed the first pair of pajamas you could find, and staggered into the bathroom.

Throwing off your clothes with a newfound urgency to feel dry and clean, you stepped into the shower and let out a tired sigh as soon as the hot droplets hit you repeatedly. It was a startling contrast to the unchanging sensation of cold you were locked in for the past thirty minutes (at least that was what you assumed it was, considering your knowledge of time itself was currently fucked). Feeling your muscles loosening underneath you, you made the blunder of closing you eyes.

As soon as you did, the water now sliding down your naked skin felt all too similar to the water that nearly took your life.

You were drowning again, literally in water and figuratively in despair. You reached out for help, screamed until your voice went hoarse. The light was coming for you, luminescent orbs turning into menacing vessels of death. But nobody came. And the terrifying reality was, nobody would.

Tripping over the shower cubicle, you lunged for your towel and scrubbed your skin until it was red and raw. Even a single drop of water felt like acid on your skin. In you haste to put on your clothes, you forgot to turn the shower on. Mustering your courage, you reached to turn the knob and made sure that no part of your body contacted anything other than a dry surface.

When you teetered over the elevated surface of the bathroom an soon as you opened the door, Hyunjin was already there to steady you.

"I'll dry your hair," he offered.

You nodded, still mum, and sat down on Hyunjin's bed. You noticed that he had changed into a white cotton shirt and gray sweatpants. Hyunjin leaned over to plug in the hairdryer. Coaxing you into turning around, his hands wove through your hair and nearly rocked you to sleep.

"Hyunjin," you whispered deliriously, "I feel safe in your arms."

You must have been really tired because you completely missed his response.

"And I feel safe knowing you are in my arms."

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After Hyunjin had dried your hair, he helped you onto your bed. You had fallen asleep due to the sheer weight of your exhaustion. Hyunjin promised that he would be in the room, not leaving for a second. Your eyes shut and you slept for almost four hours.

When you woke up, it was late. The sky was no longer colored light blue, but instead shone a dark navy. You turned over your phone on the nightstand.

9:00 PM

"Hyun-jee came over," Hyunjin said.

You turned around to see him watching a drama on his phone. His hair was tussled, as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly. His eyes looked tired and his body looked weary but his smile was like a peek of sunlight on an unreasonably cloudy day.

"She left some noodles for you," he motioned towards the large Styrofoam box on the little coffee table in your room.

You snatched up and hungrily began eating. "Thanks," you said between mouthfuls.

"No problem. You should be thanking Hyun-jee."

"I will."

"Do you want to watch something?"

"Okay."

Hyunjin started a new drama for the both of you to watch. The only sounds in the room were noises from his laptop and your slow chewing. You were grateful that Hyunjin didn't press whenever you replied half heartedly or with one word.

It was such a paradoxical situation, the one you were stuck in. A mere ten hours ago, the thought of him being in close proximity almost drew you to insanity. Now, his steady presence was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Fate truly is fickle.

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You woke up from your slumber with a start, sweat soaking through your clothes and onto your bedsheets. You were breathing heavily, so much that your lungs were hurting. Beside you, you could hear Hyunjin stirring in his sleep.

You chest was constricted and your breathing was shallowed. Ugly tears inched slowly, down your cheeks. Your hands were shaking and your vision was blurry.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here now."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," you whispered to Hyunjin in the darkness.

"No," he said firmly, "You clearly aren't. Let me help you. Please."

You gave him a nod, which he probably didn't see in the darkness. Leaning over to turn on the table lamp nestled between the two beds, with a small click, the entire room was eliminated.

"Nightmare?"

"Yes. Sorry for disturbing you."

"Don't be."

Hyunjin started humming something into your hair, making you feel drowsy. Sleep was coming in waves, but you refused to close your eyes. Fighting to keep them open, you tried to place why whatever Hyunjin was humming sounded so familiar. Finally, you realized it.

"Oh my god," you snorted, "Are you humming the Sofia the First theme song right now?"

"Shh," he giggled, "Let me honor Sofia in peace."

You nestled into him more comfortable and felt his head fall onto yours. Slowly, he pulled you down onto the bed.

"Do you mind is I sleep?" he questioned.

"No," you replied, "Just please keep holding me."

He placed a soft kiss on your cheek in response and comfortably placed his head on the crook of your neck. Soon enough, melodious snores (how do even his snores sound attractive?) filled the silence in the room. You could do this forever.

Oh. You could do this forever.

But you didn't have forever. What you had was tantalizingly short in the grand scheme of things. And nearly dying had really put things into perspective. You might not have forever, but you have now. And ideally, now was all you needed.

But what would Hyun-jee think?

Except, did it really matter what she thought? She was your best friend, she had seen pieces of you that you hadn't shown anyone. If anybody would understand, it would be Hyun-jee. You began to question yourself. Was it really Hyun-jee you were scared of, or something else entirely?

Putting the blame on Hyun-jee for stopping yourself from pursuing Hyunjin was so easy. The truth was, you were frightened. Hyun-jee's opinion had nothing to do with it whatsoever.

You were so scared of the consequences after the falling apart of a relationship, that you were hesitant to be in one in the first place. The prospect of heartbreak and it's accompanying nastiness petrified you to the point where you were blind to the beauty of being in a relationship.

Your situation was pathetic really. You were pathetic. It wasn't even a paradoxical situation of unrequited love where you were hopelessly head over heels in love with Hyunjin and he couldn't have cared otherwise. He liked you back, at one point, may even have loved you back.

After tossing and turning, you finally came to one decision you were determined to go through with.

That night, you didn't sleep for two reasons: fear of drowning in the ocean and anticipation to drown in Hyun-jee's.

"Good morning angel," he yawned, "Did you get any sleep?"

"No," you gulped.

"Well that's to bad," he mumbled against you neck.

His hair tickled your face and you began second guessing whether or not you should really do this. Hyunjin blinked once, slowly, as if taking in his surroundings. When he probably realized where he was, he got up with a start.

"Shit, I had no idea I was this close to you. I'm really sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable and-"

"I like you," you blurted out. "I like you and I want to date you. I know you like me as well and I love Hyun-jee, but I want to experience loving you."

You looked down shyly as Hyunjin's jaw dropped. He cupped his hand around your cheeks and replied breathlessly, "Oh thank goodness. I would kiss you but you just survived a traumatic event and my breath probably stinks."

You opened you mouth to respond but ended up yawning instead. Hyunjin visibly held back his laughter and you playfully hit his arm.

You gave him a side-eye and he pulled you back into bed again, tickling you in the process. You shoved him and he laughed at you and by the end of it, you were so out of breath and so happy, that a part of you forgot that you very well may not have been here today.

You didn't have forever, but you had Hyunjin and that was enough.

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

epilogue.

You put your bags down on the wooden floor with an animated 'oof!' while you once again took in the grandeur of the Hwang family ski lodge. You were back again, invited (this time by Hyunjin) to spend the summer with the Hwangs.

Everything was coming full circle, wasn't it?

Hyunjin's mother approached you with a smile on her face. She pulled you in for a tight hug, her perfume attacking your senses.

"How have you been, my child?" Her hair was pinned up to perfection and her skin was flawless.

"Really good," you told her excitedly, filling her in on all the gossip that was taking place at your university.

She listened to you keenly and once you finished, she told you, "Oh, Hyunjin is in his room, by the way."

She shot you a wink and you felt like you would melt out of embarrassment.

"I didn't know he told you," you said sheepishly.

"He didn't have to," his mother laughed.

Mothers. Their powers were strong enough to make the childhood version of you believe they were psychic.

You bounded up the familiar stairs to Hyunjin's room. Not bothering to knock (what's the worst he could be? naked?), you rushed inside and fell dramatically onto his bed. Hyunjin regarded you with a hint of fear at you sudden entrance.

Turning over on your stomach to face him, you announced with an air of superiority, "I did it."

That could only mean one thing in this context.

Hyunjin's eyes widened. "You did it? You submitted your dissertation?" he asked in awe.

You nodded enthusiastically and brought your face close to his. "I'm yours for the next three months now."

Hyunjin pouted, "I thought you already were mine."

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled him in for a long awaited kiss. It was to no avail however; you both were smiling against each other's lips so much that it wasn't quite a kiss.

Breaking away, you were about to settle in next to Hyunjin when you told him, "It feels weird though. Not having to do anything. Does that make sense?"

"If you say it, it makes sense. And if I happen to think it does not, I will attempt to look at it from your perspective. Regardless of either situation though, I will accept it because I love you, and that to me is what love is. Unwavering dedication and acceptance," Hyunjin replied with ease.

You felt your heart stutter. He was the first to say he loved you, two weeks ago under a dimly lit bookstore you were in. Hyunjin was said he knew the moment you gave him a smile and he realized, it was a smile you only presented in front of him.

"I love you too, dork," you said cheekily.

Hyunjin had shown you shades of love that you could never escape from. Every little action of his encompassed love. From the small smiles he always sent your way to the way he tucked your hair behind your ear and always carried extra rubber bands for you, Hyunjin was love personified

"I'm here!" came the unmistakable voice of Hyun-jee.

You and Hyunjin exchanged a glance. You had decided that it would be best to tell Hyun-jee about the relationship as soon as possible. Hiding your relationship from her for three months seemed like a mammoth endeavor.

After finding Hyun-jee wolfing down cookies in the kitchen and giving her a customary bear hug, you gave her a nervous laugh.

"Wosh? You bosh look like you neesh to chell me shomething."

"Ew," whined Hyunjin, "Chew first."

Hyun-jee swallowed and said, "You both look like you're hiding something from me. You didn't break something I own, right?"

"Actually," you hesitated and Hyunjin gave you a small nod of encouragement, "We did have to tell you something. Hyunjin and I... we have been dating for the last two, two and a half months."

You let out a slow breath, gauging Hyun-jee's reaction. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows knitted. You could see her visibly tensing and take in a shallow intake of breath.

Shock slowly settled into Hyun-jee's features. "How long?"

"Well technically since we were eighteen, but we were scared of your reaction and-" you gave Hyunjin a small kick to his shin. He ruffled your hair back.

"So, you are telling me that you both have liked each other for that long but decided not to do anything about it because you were scared of me?" Hyun-jee marvelled.

"Well, yes-"

"Oh my god," Hyun-jee laughed, "You both are so dense. Do you know how much I have been rooting for this relationship? Hell, I even booked one room for the two of you as soon as I realized that I forgot."

"You did that on purpose?" you were reeling from the revelation.

All of your belief that you would have to choose between friendship of love came crashing down. Relief washed over you and a sob that was lodged in your throat finally found release.

Hyun-jee and you went back and forth until Hyunjin finally put an end to the conversation. "These," he declared picking up the tin of cookies that Hyun-jee was previously snacking on, "Are mine."

He proceeded to run out of the kitchen as Hyun-jee chased him with a spatula, screaming bloody murder. After the siblings finally calmed down, all three of you collapsed onto the large couch in the middle of the lounge. Looking at your friends, your family, made you realize that you were loved.

Maybe, falling in love wasn't so bad. Yes, you fell. You fell hard and soft, you fell with your hands bloodied and the sensation of flying. You fell, but Hyunjin was there to catch you. And as he assured you over and over again, he would always be there to catch you.

Hyunjin laced his hands through yours and gave it a squeeze. This time, it was a promise. A promise of whatever eternity you both had left that would be spent together. A promise to love through the light and the dark.

A promise to be each other's first and last loves.

main taglist (reply to be added) -

@linoalwaysknows @moon0fthenight @hyulino @palindrome969

@squishybinnieee

fic taglist - @scarlet789 @taichoushadowficrec

[lewisvinga]

born to die | fernando alonso x fem! reader

summary: after their engagement, y/n realized her and fernando may have different views of the future. it makes her wonder if they were really born to die.

warnings; age gap, cursing, angst/fluff

word count; 1.28k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; and this is it u guyssss🥹 i enjoyed this series sm and i’m so thankful 4 everyone who read n enjoyed it<33 im gonna miss it sm but keep a look out for my next music f1 series 😁

‘born to die’ series masterlist !

masterlist !

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“But are you really ready to settle down?” Y/b/f asked Y/n during their biweekly brunch dates. The topic of marriage came about after due to Y/n started wedding planning a few months after being engaged.

Her best friend knew her more than anyone. They grew up together. So Y/b/f knows that Y/n never wanted to settle down so quickly. She knew that she wanted to spend her 20s having fun and completing her master's.

Marrying someone who is already in their 40s and wants to settle down as soon as possible meant there was a conflict between their futures.

“I mean, not yet.” Y/n sighed, grasping into the cup of tea as she shrugged. “I love Fernando, I do. I don’t want kids yet. I want to wait a few years and-“

“But does he know that? That’s a man who wants to settle down already and have a house in the countryside. That’s a man who wants children soon.” Y/b/f interrupted her, genuine concern written all over her face. “He’s a great guy and I love that he makes you happy but is that what you really want? Having kids means giving up a lot and you know that I know that.” She added about her own child. “And He just signed another contract with Aston Martin. If you do have kids, he won’t be around to help you much.”

Y/n let out a groan, running her hands over her face. “I was lost before I met him. I was so confused as a little child but he gave me a sense of meaning. I love Nando, I truly do. But It’s just,” She sighed. She looks out the window of the restaurant and watches busy people walking down the sidewalks. “Now that I think about it, we view the next 5 years completely differently.”

Y/b/f reaches out and grabs her hand, forcing Y/n to look back at her. “Just think about it, okay? I love you and I just want the absolute best for you.”

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Y/n sat on the top step of the front patio of her shared home with Fernando, staring out onto the gloomy skies. Despite it being sunny when she was at brunch, by the time she got home it was drizzling. However, the rain usually calmed her and in a moment where she was deep in her thoughts, she definitely needed to be calmed.

She was so lost in her thoughts of her future that she didn’t notice her fiancé’s Aston Martin pulling up to the driveway. The Spaniard was confused as to why his fiancée was sitting on the patio with a sad look on her face.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” He asked. He sat down next to her and caressed her arm. Hearing the concern laced in his voice was the triggering act for her.

“Do you think this is the right time for us to get married?” Y/n asked, keeping her eyes on her fiddling fingers. She hears Fernando’s breath hitch as he sits up straight.

“Why do you think that?”

“Fernando, you’re older than me, like a lot older and-“

“You just noticed?” He asked in a teasing tone in hopes to lighten the mood a bit.

She just sighed in response and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fernando, we both have different views of the next 5 to 10 years and you know that. I’m still young. I want to go out and party and enjoy my life. I just started my master's degree. But I know you want to retire in a few years. I know you want to have kids as soon as possible and settle down. But I-“

Y/n takes a deep breath as she glances up at her fiancé. “I don’t want that. Not yet at least. Not until I finish my master's. I don’t want to settle down just yet. Y/b/f had to stop so many things when she had her son. It makes me wonder if we’re really meant to be. Maybe you and I, we were born to die.”

Fernando’s minute of silence made her heart drop. He looked like he was lost in his thoughts, similar to how she was moments prior. “What are you even talking about, Y/n? We were born to die? Come on, mi amor!” He exclaimed, standing up to his feet. Her eyebrows furrowed up as she copied him by also getting on her feet, ignoring how the rain began to come down harder.

“Maybe it’s true, Fernando!”

“It’s bullshit.” He let out a laugh as he ran his hand over his beard. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s bullshit. Yes, we’re different ages. The road gets tough, it happens and I don’t know why, but we carry on. That doesn’t mean we’re born to die. Come on!” He continued, his eyebrows furrowed up.

“Are you even listening-“

“I am and what you’re saying is bullshit like I said!” Fernando responds, taking a step closer to her. “Amor, yes, I want children. Yes, I dream of us one day living on the coasts of Spain with our kids but that doesn’t mean I want it right away. I want you to achieve your degree. I want you to enjoy yourself first because it’s not up to me when we have kids. It’s all you.”

“Yeah, but-“

“What do I have to do to prove this to you?”

Y/n raised her eyebrows in confusion as she tilted her head. “What do you mean ‘prove’ it to me?” She asked, confused by his words.

He takes a step back with a shrug. “Prove that I don’t care if you want to wait to have kids. Prove that I wanna marry you because I love you, not to settle down.”

“Well, you don’t need to prove-“ She pauses in her words when she sees him take a step down. She lets out a sigh, her hands falling to rest by her side. She knew immediately by the glint in his eyes what he wanted to do. “Fernando, no. You’re going to get sick.”

He takes another step down.

“Fernando, stop that!”

He takes one step back and is immediately met with the pouring rain. In seconds, his clothes and hair were drenched but he didn’t care. Not one bit.

“Fernando, come back! The longer you stay there the more likely you’ll be sick.” She scolded him but he simply smiled in reply.

“I’m not leaving unless you join me.”

Y/n crosses her arms, glaring at Fernando who keeps smiling. She let out a sigh of defeat as she took a couple steps down the stairs and made it out into the rain. He immediately pulls her close by her waist. She lets out a yelp and balances herself by holding onto his shoulders.

“I love you and I want to marry you, mi amor. I don’t mind waiting 5, 10, even 15 years for us to have kids and ‘settle’ down.” He loudly says over the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. “I just want you.”

She laughs in disbelief, resting her forehead against his chest. “We can figure it all out later, right?”

“It’s just you and me right now, mi amor,” Fernando says. He cups Y/n’s face with one hand, forcing her to look up. He took a second to admire her features and her messed-up makeup from the rain. He leans down, kissing her hard in the pouring rain. Her previous thoughts immediately washed away the moment she felt his lips on her. Maybe they weren’t born to die.

[esggs]

[Martial arts coach! Sukuna x down bad!reader, huge age gap, couple of god-complex maniacs pining for each other, Sukuna being a tough coach]

“You won’t make it.” Sukuna spits carelessly, unwrapping his sweaty gloves post training. There are promising students he’s scouted in his gym, his favoured ones who’ll be the cash cows winning tournaments, buzzcut boys with tight abs who laugh mid-fight. Growing in his shoes. You’re not one of them. “You’re not good enough.” It’s a statement. 

No, you grit your teeth, it's a challenge. 

Sukuna the Ryomen: beastly calamity in the ring. Raw talent picked off the street, 80 international tournament wins over 25 years, bachelor villa bought with notoriety money. The Undisputed King of the Curses. 

Two-faced, he’d play by the rules as much as he wanted to– ran his tongue over the cheek of an opponent while choking him in a headlock, jammed his knees into countless shattered ribs, snapped spines into halves. He once bit a chunk out an opponent’s neck, goopy blood running down his chin and pecs as he laughed at the horrified screams of the audience, medics running, judges whistling, TV ratings shooting up like firecrackers.

He keeps that piece of chewed flesh, big as your fist, preserved in formaldehyde, on display in his office behind the locker room. It’s oddly captivating– you want to pull his lips up, matching his teeth to the canine marks on the chunk. 

Nutcase. Martial arts fiend. Often disqualified, but never for long: handsome money-maker was he. No one would turn up at a competition if not to watch the fiery Sukuna. His posters filled your childhood bedroom walls, unsupervised access to his gruesome fights on the internet, early 2000’s gossip columns of his many affairs with thin-thighed supermodels, little you copying his moves in front of the mirror. 

So yes, he could be as harsh to you as he wished, who gave a shit now when you’re lucky enough  to bask in his glow? You work just as hard as those boys, deserve his attention just as much, regardless of how cruel that attention comes. If you want to make it, Yuuji tells you, you callus your heart more than your achy knuckles. 

Sometimes at 3.45 am you wonder that if you had gotten more parental love and attention, you wouldn’t have attached yourself so deeply to this retired monster. Too late now, you suppose. 

A few days ago,  Megumi, one of Sukuna’s prize boys, said over a bowl of tteokbokki after practice, “Kamo Noritoshi likes you. So you can go after him and leave the elderly alone, okay?”

“I beat Kamo to a pulp, remember?” You pointed with poked tteok. “There’s only one of you losers I can’t beat and that’s who I’m fucking. Don’t go ruining my ambitions, Megumi-chan.”

The boy just sighed, ordering another bowl to go. Megumi, content being the sacrifice bunt, will never understand and it's not something you can explain. 

It’s that hunger that keeps you awake at night; you don’t want a trophy, you want the trophy– Ryomen Sukuna himself, the greatest one to be won. To be fucked, chewed, swallowed, surpassed. You want to have him, you want to be him. He’s you and you’re him and it’s written fate and oh god you need to go to therapy megumi was right you need to start taking your damn meds on time why is it 3 am again?

……. 

“Sup, coach!” 

You’re a cockroach. You arrive half an hour before session starts, practising kata moves by yourself, grappling dummy puppets double your weight to the ground, turning extravagant somersaults. Standing in front of the line. Every new move Sukuna demonstrates, you ask a billion questions, getting it right exactly as he does it. Running the extra lap, the extra sparring bout with your friends, the extra push-up. 

Sukuna peers inside Megumi's mouth, poking his finger into his gums, checking for any bleeding. Despite his actions, he’s not blind to you, the itchy teeth in your maw. 

It’s not just a sport for people like you and Sukuna. People a little fucked in the head. People whose names, announced out loud, get the audience jumping and cheering, the main attraction of the night. Hurricanes out to flatten the competition. 

See, it’s not about the points. Just the gold doesn’t satisfy: you want blood and broken teeth on the floor after you’re done. You want your opponents to refuse to fight you. You want them crawling, begging for time-outs, their coaches throwing the towel in to save their lives, their teary mothers cursing your very sight. Just like Sukuna.

Sukuna who relishes in your eyes on him. The way your breathing quickens childlike when he wrestles your face to the dirty mat, arms twisted behind you, his heavy foot pinning you down. The way you linger a bit longer when he shrugs his gi off, thick biceps flexing against the overhead lights. What a nut, he thinks: bitten fingernails, daddy issues, all the wrong things that excite you. This one’s gonna kill.  

Your hunger he rears by starvation. The harder you fight for a scrap of his attention to prove yourself, the sweeter you get. He can almost see his own tattoos on your eager face. 

So narcissistic, the way his pants tighten when he watches you fight: it's his devilry that flashes in your young eyes. Too young for him, some noble nonsense of not fucking your student, like he gives a rat’s ass. A rising Alexander, he’ll pick you for himself the second you’re good enough.

He knows to wait for it. Latchkey kids like you, raised to fight for love, you’d never want something you could have. The unreachable glory of Sukuna was what made having him worth it. 

He also knew that once you had him, you’d dig your teeth into him so hard that you’d tear right through him. Maybe preserve him in formaldehyde too. 

Not that he’ll spoon-feed you chances for that. Not that he has to, when you do it for yourself.

“Coach, could you spar with me?”

He’s terribly pleased, but the frown he wears for you remains on his face. “Aiming too high, brat.”

“Sorry,” an apology that you don’t mean in the slightest. “But I think I can qualify for the next tournament, coach. I can start cutting weight tomorrow. Put me in this time, please, coach!” 

“You’re not good enough.”   “Let me convince you, coach.”

“Convince me?” He sounds so bored, as if you’re the greatest waste of his time. I’ll change your mind, you promise. I’d like to see you try– he’s amused. “Oi, Todo! C’mere, beat this one for me. You–” he bends down to hold your chin, privately delighted at your blushing face. “– you score six points in sixty seconds against him, maybe I’ll think of putting you on the tournament roster.”

Right. Aoi Todo, brawler build, has the height and weight advantage on you, which means he’ll go for grappling techniques and try to pin you down to the ground. He’s not the type to go easy on anyone, and he likes to show off, so he’ll keep it short distance and try out some fancy kicks– he’ll waste time on performance and then you’ll get time to return attacks. Here’s the M.O. then: you keep light on your feet, dodge every single attack of his, and go for the head. Amen.

Todo squares up, entering the ring, dabbing you up in a show of good faith before assuming his fighting stance. Just as you predicted, his arms are open to take you down. 

You hold your ground. Todo, my friend, you grin at Sukuna, who for once has all his attention on you, I’m going to kill you. 

Sukuna blows the whistle, and immediately Todo lunges for you. A feint, for he changes tactics immediately and is punching you from the left. You have to jump over his shoulder to avoid it (Yuuji whoops), land behind his back, and before he can turn around, kick his spine so hard that he stumbles forward a bit. 

“2 points!” Sukuna checks the time: it’s been 6 seconds. 

Todo’s impressed too, you can tell. You’re distracted: Sukuna nodded at you! Both of you come back to your original positions, ready for the next point match. The whistle blows. 

He’s cautious this time– you kick his shins but he doesn’t yield an inch, so you attempt an upper-cut, but are caught unawares by his hook straight to your mouth. 

“Todo–1 point!” Your jaw feels dislocated, there’s tears threatening to brim in your eyes. Did you forget your meds again? Why can’t you stop giggling? 35 seconds gone.

Restart. You’re playing dirty now, tripping his ankle as he comes forward to attack. You pass through between his legs (using his height to your own advantage) to get behind him again. As if he was expecting it, you dodge his back kick, taking the moment where he’s off balance to land a 360 kick– right on his face. He groans in surprise, but you’re not done.

This isn’t about winning fair or showing sportsmanship spirit, you remind yourself as you pull Todo’s face into your knee, repeatedly, the sick sounds of his nose cartilage crunching. This is about you, Sukuna. 

He blows the whistle. 42 seconds, the match is over, Todo’s burst his sinuses open, bleeding too badly to avoid medical intervention. A K.O. you’re calling it. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you’ is Megumi’s opinion. 

“Decent.” Sukuna’s smiling. Buzzed giddy on adrenaline and sweat, you want to kill the both of you. “Fine. Start the diet tomorrow.” He’s already leaving, other students to tend to. You’re a tad disappointed: you thought it’d be him checking your bleeding jaw, not the medic. Still, you’re happy taking what you can. It doesn’t come by often. “Come by my office after practice.”

a/n: i wrote this while looping bread by anya nami, really elevated the experience

[kingkatsuki]

Imagine older retired Pro-Hero Dynamight who hasn’t really been in the public eye since his early days. Leaving his successful Agency in the hands of Red Riot after the press come for him in a vengeful witch hunt when he fails to save twenty innocent civilians who are crushed when a building collapses due to his quirk misfiring. It doesn’t matter that the villain was in the line of sight and dodged at the last minute, it doesn’t matter that he himself tried to hold the building upright to stop it from collapsing— they just want someone to blame.

So twenty years later— when the line up of I’m a Celebrity is announced, the public are shocked to see his name on the lineup. Even more so when he actually goes into the jungle, far more calm and collected compared to the brash, aggressive Pro-Hero they remembered. Blond hair now tinted a silvery grey, messy stubble beginning to shadow his face as he spends time in the jungle with his other camp mates. Many of the posts online talk about how shocked they are that he’s still alive, but most talk about how disgusted they are that he’s in the jungle this year. It brings up a lot of negative memories from what happened that day, and it does nothing at first to help his image. But of course, Red Riot is the ever supporting best friend on social media as he posts tweet after tweet in support of Bakugou.

But a few days in, he begins to open up about his life after that moment— things that he hasn’t shared with anyone outside his circle before— things the public don’t know about what happened that day. Sharing a vulnerable side of himself that no one expected, and it makes them start to root for him again all those years later.

But most of all they start rooting for you and him together. Finding out that he’s never had a serious relationship, and that he’s been single for years. And you, as one of his camp mates, have been unlucky in love for quite some time. Always managing to choose the wrong guy, or your career being in the public eye scares most potential suitors away.

He’s older than you— a fact that makes you wonder if he’d even be interested in you as you continue to crush on him inside the camp. The public go wild when you confess your crush on Bakugou to the girls you’re sharing the camp with, their squeals enough to alert your other camp mates but you hope Bakugou doesn’t work out why. And you have no idea that he actually feels the exact same way you do.

So the public watch the way you and Bakugou interact while you’re in the jungle, having those late night talks by the fire when everyone else is asleep, being tasked to do chores together and the supportive words he shouts specifically for you whenever you’re voted to do a trial together. And the best part about it is neither of you even realise the public are rooting so strongly for the two of you to get together because you’re completely cut off from everything inside the jungle.

So much so that the public are even trying to demand that there’s a King and Queen of the jungle this year because they want you both to win together.

[vrystalius]

Hi there <3 I was wondering if I could request a fic with Kyojuro? Perhaps about him who is now older and had survived mugen train and the whole muzan ordeal. He gets surprised when he notices his wife has grey hairs, wrinkles, typical signs of growing older and gets a little sappy about it. Just the two of them, retired hashiras enjoying growing older with each other :) I hope this isn’t too much of an ask 🩷

As the years go by

Kyojuro is now properly admiring all your beautiful aging features in the morning light.

Pairing: Kyojuro Rengoku x fem!reader

Note: Before you read this fic, please go check out @erexart ! She really makes amazing art and made the banner of this fic, I’m so so honoured to receive something like this :,) I hope you enjoy this, I really tried to make your request and art justice.

Every morning before you wake up, Kyojuro takes his time to take in your sleeping face. These not your most graceful moments. Sometimes you drool onto the pillow below, sometimes your face gets all squished up by resting all your weight on it. You’d be embarrassed if he would described all the faces he’d seen you do before, but to him, you’re beautiful in every way and sleeping position. But this morning was different. Kyojuro was silently watching you breathe in and out and how your chest is rising and falling, his fingers carefully brushing through your hair. He leaned forward and held your hair up to his nose, taking a deep breath. His eyes silently wandered over your face and hair. The morning sun perfectly illuminated all your best features.

His eyes widened slightly as your husband noticed a few grey hairs in your hair. Yes, Kyojuro has been taking some time out of his morning just to stare at you like a lovesick teenager, but he never actually noticed any of the aging that happened over the years. He carefully ran his fingers through your hair, making sure to take time to admire your silver strands up close. Those fee grey hairs may not mean a lot to you, but to him, they are proof of your many years of marriage. Truthfully, he’s probably the reason you got them in the first place. Lately, his old injuries have been flaming up again and you got incredibly worried and fuzzy over him. Your smile disappears every time Kyojuro groans when he stands up, worrying that he’s in pain. Worry doesn’t suit your feature at all.

Your features, your face… they also changed over the years. He continued to brush his fingers through your soft hair, his focus shifting towards your gorgeous face. Although his vision worsened in his left eye ever since his fight against Upper Moon Three, but oh, your laugh lines that surround your lips and how they crinkle everytime you smile are a sight for sore eyes. Your smile is the most beautiful thing in the whole entire world and he’ll gladly endure a little pain to stare a while longer, even if you scold him to oblivion when he does. Once the edges of your lips start to lift and those laugh lines become even more visible, Kyojuro’s pain washed away, his whole body feeling floaty and warm. He was grinning to himself while replaying the sound of your laugh inside his mind over and over. That was the sound he fell in love with all these years ago during his younger years as a hashira. You just were sworn into the corps as a brand new hashira and Kyojuro was the first to talk to you. The conversation almost took hours as you two talked about everying but the duties of a hashira, the reason your husband wanted to talk to you in the first place. Your smile, your laugh, gods. He really fell head over heels for you all that time ago and it never went away, did it?

You were starting to shift in your sleep, stretching your arms above your head. Kyojuro smiled softly at your sleepy murmurs. You were seemingly complaining about the sun shining directly at your face and at the audacity of your husband to not shield you from it. He leaned in and pressed you a couple of warm kiss onto your cheek.

“You look absolutely beautiful. Aging suits you perfectly, my flame.”

His voice was still raspy from the sleep. You finally opened your eyes and wrapped your arms around his now a little softer torso. Over the years of not training (and not really needing it anymore), your husband’s muscles slowly started to soften up more and more. Now, they’re perfect pillows. You shifted closer and gently cupped his cheek.

“You stalker. You’re always staring at me when I’m asleep.”

You grinned tiredly while caressing his soft skin. Kyojuro laughed quietly and nuzzled into your hand, placing kisses all over your palm. His expression shifted from pure love to sombreness. He silently stared at your gorgeous face.

“We have changed, haven’t we, love?”

His voice grew a little quieter. Your sleepy smile shifted into one of worry, your hand unmoving and still holding his cheek.

“Do you.. mean it in a good way?”

Your husband’s expression softened and his smile was reaching all the way to the corner of his eyes. He nodded quietly and grabber your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Yes. Thank you for staying by my side for so long.”

You grinned and pulled yourself closer to him and placed a soft kiss onto his jaw, making him blush just a little. Yes, he’s forever grateful for staying by his side for all this time and is honoured to be able to watch you age so gracefully.

“I love you. So, so much…”

Sometimes Kyojuro wonders what you think about his softening of muscle, appearance of grey streaks in his usually bright hair and wrinkles on his face…

[hidden-ember]

simon says

🗯 pairing: captain john price x fem!reader | simon ghost riley x fem!reader

🗯 tags: nsfw - mdni, cucking, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected pinv, established relationship, praise, ooc as fuck i'm sure

a/n: this one was incredibly self indulgent, so i got a little carried away with it. i fully intend to do a pt. 2 if you all want that!

You couldn’t believe the situation you found yourself in: your husband of several years just confessed to you he had always had a fantasy of watching you with another man. You expressed that you weren’t opposed to the idea; as long as it was something he truly wanted then you’d do your best to please him. 

When he threw out some names of people you may be interested in he never expected to see a spark of desire in your eyes as he mentioned his former boss.

“Oh really?” Ghost asked with a raise of his eyebrow, his tone laced with amusement. 

“Y-yeah,” you said shyly, not wanting to go into detail about how attractive you found Captain Price. 

The older man led Simon in a specialized task force for a few years, both having since moved on to different military ventures and then retirement. 

Price had always caught your eye at any get-together he and the rest of Ghost’s former team would attend, and you had never imagined revealing this attraction to your husband. Until now. 

Any time he would tower over you while making small talk, cerulean eyes subtly trailing down to your lips and chest before meeting your gaze you had to fight to keep your face from flushing. 

Your dreams the nights after these gatherings would be filled with visions of the Captain buried between your legs, his facial hair prickling your skin as he worked you with his mouth until your legs were trembling. 

Ghost cleared his throat, sensing you were deep in thought. “I’ll text him now?”

Once you gave him the go ahead he reached for his phone. His fingers trembled slightly as he tapped out a message, inviting Price over Friday evening for some ‘fun���. 

He tossed his phone down and leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to enjoy watching you with him.” 

“I hope so, Simon, because I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise,” you responded, pulling back to look at him. You wanted him to know even though you were indulging him in this fantasy, you would never imagine being unfaithful to him without his knowledge and without him being involved.

Ghost met your gaze, his eyes filled with appreciation and desire for you. “I know, love.” 

You left it at that, both carrying on with the rest of your week without mentioning it again until shortly before Price’s arrival.

“You’re still okay with this, yeah?” Ghost wrapped his arms around you from behind as you did your makeup in the mirror. 

“More than okay,” you reassured him as he tugged at your earlobe with his teeth. 

“Easy now,” he chuckled, a hint of warning in his tone. 

That was the best thing about this arrangement. You had always been attracted to Price and were eager to explore that, but you were most looking forward to what came after.

You knew that once he watched Price fuck you, Ghost would be ravenous. You had a long night ahead of him proving to you that while he may allow another man to touch you, they’d never be able to touch you better than he could. 

“I don’t know what to wear.” Your face grew hot as you began wondering what Price would think when he saw you again. 

“Anything,” Ghost replied firmly. “You look great in anything.”

“Well I have that dress from-,” you paused when he began shaking his head. 

“That won’t be necessary,” he murmured against your neck, trailing soft kisses down it as his hands settled on your stomach. “You’ll be waiting for us in the bedroom, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you whispered, realization dawning on you that he was suggesting you wear lingerie. 

"Hmmm. Price seems like the type to enjoy white." You thought out loud, a lace baby doll you had in your dresser coming to mind. "Something about corrupting a good girl."

“S’that what you are?” Ghost smirked while making eye contact with you in the mirror. 

You laughed away his teasing, knowing he was only attempting to get you riled up. “Oh, please. If anyone’s corrupted me it’s you, but let me have my fun.”

"That's perfect," he agreed, his eyes roaming over the reflection of your body, envisioning the delicate white lace. "He's going to love seeing you like that." He leaned in close and whispered into your ear, his voice low and husky, “And so will I.”

His stiffening cock was now pressing firmly into the small of your back and you grinned at him in the mirror. “I can see you’re very excited about this.”

Ghost's eyes darted downward before meeting yours again, a mix of embarrassment and desire flushing his cheeks. "Not every day my wife offers up herself and her body for another man," he confessed with a shrug that did little to hide his arousal.

“Don’t be embarrassed, love.” You squeezed his hands reassuringly. “It’s hot you’re so into this.”

"Thank you," Ghost whispered as he wrapped his arms around you tighter. "I just want to make sure everything is perfect for Price tonight. He deserves it."

“Yeah? Deserves to fuck your wife?” You teased, knowing it would only make the hardness poking into your back ache even more. 

Ghost chuckled darkly at your words. "Yeah, he does," he growled while pressing his hips forward slightly into you with a noticeable amount of possession in his movement. "And I plan to enjoy every filthy second of it."

You spun around to face him, and he immediately stepped forward, pushing you into the edge of the vanity. Ghost groaned as he felt your hands slip beneath his shirt to stroke his stomach, a thick layer of fat having formed over his abs since retirement that drove you crazy in all the right ways. 

"Don't tease me like that," he warned when your fingers moved higher up his chest.

"Fine,” you conceded with a soft sigh, sliding out from under his shirt. “I’ll keep my hands to myself until he arrives.”

"That’s a good girl," he praised, loving how aroused you were getting. He pulled back slightly but kept his hands on your waist. "Now, why don't you get dressed and wait for us on the bed, hmm?”

As you moved to put on the white lace number and matching silk thong you knew both men would adore you in, Ghost left for the living room, leaving your bedroom door slightly ajar. You bit down on your lip nervously when you heard the doorbell buzz not even a few minutes later. 

Ghost’s heart raced with anticipation as he approached the front door and saw Price’s silhouette against the dim street light shining through the glass. He knew you were waiting for them in the bedroom, dressed in the lingerie that he had helped pick out and he had to make an effort to appear nonchalant as he opened the door for Price.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart rate quickening as you heard the Captain’s commanding voice fill your home. Their conversation was muffled, but the distinct sound of ice and alcohol being poured made you smirk to yourself.

The pair catching up over a drink like former colleagues while you were waiting in the bedroom like a piece of meat to be devoured only added to your arousal, the wetness gathering between your legs becoming more prominent the longer they left you alone. Ghost seemed to be carrying most of the conversation for once, probably out of sheer excitement.  

Price appeared to be enjoying himself as well, laughing at something Ghost said before they made their way to the bedroom together.

As they entered the room your eyes darted between your husband and his friend, unsure who to look at. The click of the door closing echoed through your mind as you pictured what was about to happen. 

Ghost took a step towards you, his eyes fixed on your body as he admired the sexy lingerie that clung to your curves. He couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness as he turned to look at Price, who was now standing close behind him.

He swallowed hard, the bob of his Adam's apple betraying his nervousness, before stepping to the side and sitting in the armchair at the corner of your room.

Price looked you up and down slowly, taking in every inch of your exposed body. His eyes lingered on your full breasts before traveling back up to meet yours. 

"You look bloody incredible, Mrs. Riley," he smirked, knowing it would drive Ghost mad to hear you being referred to with his last name. You were his after all and Price would do well to remember that. You glanced at Simon briefly, surprised to see his face beaming with pride rather than annoyance as he watched Price approach you. 

“Thank you, John,” you blushed, having to crane your neck to look at him the closer he got to the bed. The lamp in the corner illuminated his face as he stood before you and you noticed even more gray hair dusting his temples and beard than the last time you saw him. 

He wasted no time before kneeling down, his calloused hands running up and down your thighs lightly before stopping at your knees. You were sure your face was completely bright red now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

“Oh, sweet thing,” Price let out a breath as he spread your legs. “You’re soaked already.”

He placed a kiss to your core through your panties, holding eye contact with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Ghost sat up a little straighter in his seat at the sight.

The silk fabric clung to your folds now, saturated with your arousal. You felt yourself throbbing now, cunt desperate for attention. Many nights you had dreamed of being in this exact position, his handsome face staring up at you from between your legs.

Disappointment must have been evident on your face as Price pulled back and shifted on his feet, moving to lean over you. Your pouting drew a raspy chuckle out of your husband.

“Needy girl you have, Simon,” Price observed with a small smile, turning to look at him. He gave a single nod in response, eager for Price to continue.

With gentle hands he brushed your hair behind your shoulders as his gaze roamed your chest, his hum of satisfaction reverberating through the room. He unfastened the clasp on the front of the baby doll, letting it fall off of you and onto the bed. 

Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit your skin. Price’s hands found their way to your breasts immediately, beginning to roll his thumbs over your nipples in tight circles. He studied your face closely as it contorted in pleasure, admired the way your breath caught in your throat audibly at the sensation. 

“You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck you,” Price whispered into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps on your skin. His lips brushed against your earlobe and your eyes widened, finding Ghost’s. He watched you with a hunger and possessiveness you had never seen from him before, clearly having heard what the other man said to you. 

You gasped in surprise when Price’s lips latched onto your nipple, too distracted by Simon to realize he had wandered lower once more. You moaned softly as his tongue circled the hardened bud, back arching as he squeezed your other breast roughly. 

Ghost watched attentively from his corner seat, a mix of arousal and pride coursing through him. He could tell by the way that you were responding that Price was taking good care of you, making sure you were enjoying every moment. 

Price’s mouth left your tit and he captured your lips in a kiss. It felt strange at first but you softened, losing yourself to the feeling of him. The kiss deepend as Price’s tongue slid past your lips, tasting you for the first time. His hands wandered down your body, teasingly grazing the hem of your panties before finally slipping beneath to run along your slick folds.

“All this for me, hm?” Price murmured against your lips.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered. A half truth. It was for him, yes. But it was just as much for Simon, who was now palming himself through his jeans.

Seeing how excited you were already, he didn’t hesitate to part your folds, circling your entrance once before pumping two fingers inside of you. You let out an exasperated gasp and squirmed as he did.

“Oh, c’mon, angel. I know you can take it.” He winked at you before continuing. “This is nothing compared to your husband’s cock,” he said playfully before curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting faster now.

"That's a good girl," he praised you as he felt your relax around his fingers, rewarding you by pressing circles into your swollen clit in a steady rhythm with his thumb.   

Ghost could tell by the sounds you were making that you were getting close already, the thought only serving to fuel his arousal. His chest tightened as he watched Price work you open. You faintly made out the sound of a zipper as your senses started to be overloaded, vision blurry and ears ringing.

“Fuck, John. I’m close,” you moaned, wrapping your arms around his free one to steady yourself as your climax rapidly approached. His muscles tensed under your grip; he was every bit as strong as you had imagined. 

Price tutted at you, shaking his head. “Ask your husband for permission, dear.”

“Simon,” you pleaded. “Simon, please, I-” your breath was coming in ragged gasps, leaving you incapable of forming a full sentence.

“Let go, love,” you heard him from the corner of the room. The way his voice strained told you that he was stroking his cock as he listened to you begging for release. Begging him despite another man being the one to drive you to orgasm.

Price grabbed you by the chin, angling it upwards and pressing his lips to yours, stifling your cries of pleasure as you came undone. As if he could keep your release all to himself like this, swallowing it down so Ghost couldn’t have it.

Ghost watched intently as Price took control of the situation, his body tense with anticipation for what was about to happen. He could feel his own climax building inside him, mirroring your pleasure as he listened to your cries of ecstasy being muffled by the other man’s kiss.

As Price continued to milk your orgasm, he leaned down and whispered into your ear, this time low enough that Ghost couldn’t hear, “You were never quite this pretty all the times I’ve imagined you coming.” 

He pulled away slowly, leaving you panting and covered in sweat. His eyes met Ghost’s once more before he finally released you from his grasp. You sat at the edge of the bed, legs trembling as you tried to catch your breath. He pulled your panties off, eyes glued to your glistening cunt.

“Lie back for me, sweetheart,” John ordered as he moved for his zipper, desperate to free his throbbing cock. You did as he said, gaze locked on his crotch as he tugged down his pants and boxers. 

As his cock sprang free, you hated the way you instantly noticed it wasn’t as big as Ghost’s. It wasn’t small by any means, maybe even a bit longer, but not as thick. You had gotten so used to feeling stuffed full by Ghost that now a part of you was anxious to have another man for the first time in years. What if you were spoiled? What if your husband had ruined you for all other cocks?

You glanced in his direction, noting the small smirk tugging at his lips and you knew he was aware of exactly what was on your mind. Smug bastard, you thought to yourself before returning your attention to Price, opening your legs wider for him.

Ghost’s expression remained impassive as he watched Price line himself up and penetrate you. His hand twitched unconsciously, the urge to reach out and claim what was rightfully his burning within him. But he held back, remaining silent and still, his hand freezing on his cock.

You moaned as Price buried himself to the hilt, having quickly forgotten any anxiety you were feeling a moment before. He let you adjust to his length before pulling out completely and slamming his hips forward, causing you to yelp. Ghost began pumping himself again as he saw how rough his friend was with you, how well you were taking him. 

“Fuck,” he hissed as he pounded into you. “Good fuckin’ girl.” 

His arms fell to either side of your head as he leaned in to nibble at your neck. From this angle his gut pushed into your stomach - the only distinction between the sensation of his and your husband’s was John’s more pronounced happy trail. 

He reached down between the two of you and began roughly rubbing at your sensitive clit again. His tempo didn't falter and he was hitting your g-spot with each stroke, white-hot pleasure clouding your mind and turning you into a mumbling mess beneath him.

“Yeah? Like that?” Price cooed at you and your toes curled. He kept up his pace, relentlessly pummeling you.

“Yes. God, yes,” you whined. The sounds of skin on skin and moaning filled the room from all three of you now. 

Your walls contracted around Price and your back arched, pressing your bodies flush together as you surrendered yourself to him completely.

“Come for me,” he encouraged with a hint of ownership. Not of you, but of this orgasm. The last one may have been for Ghost, but this one would be for him. 

He thrust into you more deliberately now, bottoming out each time. You let out a strangled moan as you climaxed again. Ghost came with you, spurting into his hand as he squeezed his cock tightly, his own sounds of pleasure drowned out by yours.

You whimpered as John suddenly pulled out of you and moved to stand at the edge of the bed. “C’mere,” he croaked, quickly sitting you up and bringing your head down towards his cock.

“You didn’t think I’d let anyone else finish inside that pretty little pussy of yours, did you?” Ghost murmured from the corner, voice hoarse as he was spent from his own release.

You shifted your gaze to Simon before parting your lips for Price. “Mm, see how you taste on another man’s cock?” He taunted as you wrapped your mouth around the head.

Though your eyes stayed glued to Ghost’s, you attempted a nod in response. Tears pricked your eyes as you slowly took more of his shaft into your mouth. 

“Simon says you’re good with your mouth. I intend to take full advantage of that,” he said, grunting as he pushed himself deep into your throat, your eyes returning to him.

As you moaned around his cock he smirked down at you. "Oh, you like it rough, do you?" He quickly lost control, hips meeting your face as he thrust in rhythm with your mouth.

You had mixture of saliva and pre-cum running down your chin now, mascara staining your cheeks. Ghost had you in a similar state countless times before while fucking your face, but seeing you like this wrapped around someone else's cock was turning him on in an entirely new way.

In an attempt to prolong his release, Price tangled his fingers into your hair, holding you in place at the base of his cock. When you gagged he loosened his grip, allowing you to back off a bit before you started bobbing your head on his length again. "That feels incredible," he said, admiring the way you milked his cock.

His balls were already tight, and you pushed him over the edge once you began to caress them with feather-light touches. He threw his head back with a low groan, frame tensing as he shot thick ropes of cum down your throat. His hips jerked forward as you hollowed out your cheeks. You swallowed most of his spend and pulled off of his cock with a satisfied moan.

He brushed the hair away from your face, his chest heaving as he looked down at you. His thumb trailed over your bottom lip, collecting the bit of cum that had dribbled out. He held it there for you, waiting for you to clean it off. You took it into your mouth, taking your time cleaning him, savoring the taste as you swirling your tongue around his finger. He pulled it out with a loud pop once he caught his breath.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, referring to your performance just as much as your disheveled appearance.

“That she is,” Ghost said, rising from his seat, looking at you with a predatory gaze. He tucked his still semi-hard cock into his pants and your stomach tightened at the sight.

Price zipped himself up as well and turned to Ghost. You were surprised he wouldn’t be staying, but it was clear the two men had discussed all the details beforehand. 

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t want anyone here for the depraved things I’m gonna do to you,” Ghost threatened in a low tone that had you clenching around nothing. Price let out a hearty laugh before turning back to you.

“Thank you for being so good for me,” he murmured and cupped your face in his hands. When Ghost cleared his throat behind him, he corrected himself with a sheepish grin. “Good for us.”

He gave you a genuine smile and a soft kiss on the forehead before leaving for the front door with Ghost. They exchanged goodbyes and the last you heard from Price as you walked to the doorway was, “Don’t be a stranger now, Simon.”

Shortly after you heard the door swing shut your husband was on you. “Alright, back to bed with you,” Simon grinned, smacking your ass playfully. You giggled, walking backwards, eyes never leaving him as he stripped. 

“You’re mine,” he reminded you with a growl before his lips crashed into yours, the two of you falling onto the bed.

[chaotic-toasters]

Invisible

TW: Bad-ish mental health

Chelsea!Reader

Ex-UNC!Reader

I don't think this makes any sense but whtvs

-----------------

Transfer to Chelsea, they said. It'll be fun, they said. Well, you said that they were wrong.

You signed for Chelsea under the promise of playing time and friendship, only to be immediately benched and left to wander the halls of Cobham by yourself.

In hindsight, it was a stupid decision to join the Blues. The winning WSL side had no need for you on their already stacked roster, and in no way were you going to be able to compete with the likes of Zecira Musovic and Hannah Hampton.

You'd once been told that only truly deserving and talented people could reach the professional level of a sport, but you were seriously doubting it. You weren't a quitter, but you were genuinely wondering if you should wait for your 23rd birthday next year to announce your retirement or if you should just announce it now. You were still young, and you weren't about to waste any more of your life waiting for your footballing career to blossom.

It was funny, you thought, how the same cycle just kept repeating. When you played in your home state of Chicago for the Red Stars, you'd sat on the bench and watched Alyssa Naeher, your captain and USWNT starting keeper, guard the net, but you'd at least been happy, being good friends with most of your teammates. Then, during your time at Manchester United, Marc Skinner had promised you that you'd play in games against easier opponents. You never did, always internally scolding yourself for believing that he would want to play you. Now, at Chelsea, you were all alone, not a familiar face or start in sight. The only time you'd been in the net during games was in college, where you'd been head of the DoD for UNC. That time was long gone, though.

-----------

"Y/N!" you almost missed Emma calling your name, too busy wondering if anyone would notice if you napped on the bench during the match. It was against Arsenal, but you were practically invisible to your teammates and the media alike.

"Yes?" you glanced up from the ground, only half-paying attention.

"Zecira isn't here and Hannah can't play on with that calf. You're going in."

"Okay." You didn't move, your manager's words not registering in your brain.

She stared at you. "Aren't you gonna go get your gloves?"

"Oh, right." You took off towards the changing room, grabbing your gloves, waterbottle, and blinding-white sweat towel that you'd had for the past three years.

When you went back outside, Emma patted you on the shoulder, offering you a word of advice and reminding you that the score was nil-nil.

It was embarrassingly quiet when you jogged into goal, the only cheers being a few quiet Chelsea fans in a sea of blue. You just shook your head to yourself, bouncing on the balls of your feet as play started up again. No distractions.

------------

A breakaway in the 51st minute had you barking orders at your backline, but none of your defenders were fast enough to catch up. Stina Blackstenius was sprinting at you full-force as you came out of your goal, and though her body shifted to the left and she passed the ball between her feet, you noticed how her eyes momentarily flicked upwards. Your hand instinctively shot up, smacking the ball away like a cat would a toy on a string, and as it flew over the crossbar, the entire stadium was silent other than the soft pitter-patter of rain on the roof.

The roar of the crowd rang out seconds later, and the Arsenal players eyed you with a newfound wariness as Steph Catley ran to take the corner kick.

"Hey," someone whispered, nudging you. "That was sick. I knew you still had it in you."

You glanced up and smiled. "Thanks, Foxy."

She ran back, sharing a few words with your other former UNC teammates, Alessia and Lotte, the three of them giving you small smiles as the whistle blew.

You came out of the net again as the ball came flying into the box, jumping up over Blackstenius again and swatting it away once more. The cheers from the Chelsea fans was deafening, drowning out whatever Emma was yelling to you from the sidelines.

Chelsea forwards and Arsenal defenders chased after the ball into the Arsenal half, leaving you, your defenders, and Arsenal forwards in your half. "Hey," Alessia called, giving you a little wave from the edge of your box. "Nice saves."

You waved back. "Thanks."

"You haven't changed a bit from Uni," she commented, jogging away. "Reflexes sharp as ever."

"You haven't changed either," you grinned. "Clumsy as ever."

Her head whipped back around indignantly. "Hey!"

-------------

It was strange being a part of your teammates' conversations. It was as if you'd been invisible before the match, and each save slowly made you appear before their eyes. They'd met you with smiles and claps on the back after the game, all too happy to secure a tie in the wake of losing their first two keepers. You could care less about your current teammates, though. The ones who really mattered were your old ones.

"We totally would have won if Chelsea didn't have you," Emily scoffed jokingly, giving you a light push. "You saved their asses."

You pushed her back with a shit-eating grin, lowering your voice. "I'll be saving your asses instead soon enough."

Lotte spit out her water onto Alessia, who shrieked in disgust. "Really?!"You snickered. "Yeah. Don't tell anyone, though."

Alessia pinched her jersey in her fingers, airing it out. "Have you thought about this? The Chelsea fans aren't going to like that at all. Trust me, I know."

"I don't care," you shrugged. "I'll be happy at Arsenal, and I know I'll get playing time."

"Well, we can't wait to see you at Colney," Lotte grinned. "Arsenal red will look great on you."

You grinned back. "I know it will."