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leilakisakabiri · 2 years ago

Note

I have a request for Pedri, maybe a childhood friends to lovers ? 😩 like they are both in love with each other but are oblivious so Gavi makes a plan to get them together by pretending to be interested in the reader (idk if that made sense)

The Promises We Keep (Pedri)

Summary: You and Pedri grew up together until he got selected to play for Barcelona. He left when you were sixteen and you hadn’t seen him since, till a fateful day in summer brought you a bright-eyed midfielder.

Warning(s): Angst. Sensitive topics such as death, addiction, and feelings of hopelessness.

A/N: Guys this is a long one. Thank you so much for the request, I made it slightly different but hopefully you still like it! This one took on a life of its own and was so fun to write. Feel free to send requests!

Word Count: 9.4k+

August 11th.

That was the first time you had met Pedri. On the brink of ten, eyes alight with wonder and eagerness, as you stood on your tippy toes, leaning over the counter to point out the cake specials.

It was your first day working at the bakery that your family owned. After much badgering and pleading, your grandmother had promised you that you could help out at the bakery. You had been ecstatic, rolling up your sleeves, getting ready to frost the cakes like you had seen your abuela and mother do countless times before. Your excitement, however, was short-lived when your mother placed her hands on your shoulders, redirecting you away from the shiny kitchen filled with sugary delights and to the long counter facing the dining area.

“Mamà, No! I want to bake cakes with you!” You pleaded, attempting to free yourself from her grasp.

She smiled, “Not yet princessa. First, you have to learn to take the orders.”

“Ok after?”

She nodded her head, helping you on the stool that made you tall enough to finally look over the counter, “Yes, but first let’s learn how to do this.”

She explained all the functions of the cash register to you, and you nodded, taking it all in.

You knew the menu by heart, having grown up in the bakery and heard your grandmother and mother repeat the spiel countless times to customers.

Your excitement came back in full swing when she stepped away and walked back into the kitchen.

You were in charge out here.

You felt giddy as you waited for your first customer.

Would they want a cake? Or maybe a pastry? Ooh or maybe some tea? You had never started the tea kettle by yourself before.

You smiled when you heard the door jiggle, a customer entering, “Hi Sir! How can I help you?”

“Would you like to order a cake? Or if you don’t like cakes we also have-”

The man cut you off, pulling a map from his pocket, “I’m lost can you help me? I want to go here.” He said, pointing to the other side of the map from where you were.

You sighed, “Yes, you have to take the train, line 2. That will take you here,” You said pointing to a station on the map, “And then it’s just a 5-minute walk.”

“Oh sir would you like-“ You began to ask him as he thanked you, but cut yourself off when the door shut behind him.

You huffed.

So much for your first customer.

You leaned on the counter waiting for someone else to come in.

It was a Tuesday afternoon in summer, and most people only came to the bakery early in the morning on the way to work, or after work to collect their cakes or drink their daily tea. The weekdays were slow for in-store business, but it was always packed to the brim on weekends with tourists hoping to discover local culture and families who spent the day at the nearby beach.

You were so lost in thought that you completely missed the boy standing in front of you.

“Umm excuse me?”

You looked down at the sudden noise, making eye contact with a brown-haired boy with a frown on his face. He couldn’t have been that much older than you.

“Hi sorry! How can I help you?” You asked, your voice taking on the cheery note that your mothers always did when speaking with customers.

“I said I want to buy a cake.”

You squinted your eyes at the boy, he looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Okay, what kind of cake?”

“A birthday cake.” The boy huffed out, fidgeting with the cash in his hand.

You quickly grew annoyed at his attitude; it wasn’t your fault you hadn’t seen him. He was barely taller than the counter.

“Ok here’s the cake options.” You said, showing him a pamphlet with all the options listed.

“That one.” He said pointing to the green cake decorated with cars.

You nodded, ringing him up, “Ok it’s $35.”

The boy handed you the cash and you took your time double-counting the money to make sure everything was there.

You wanted to make sure you did your job perfectly.

“Aren’t you a little young to make a cake? Do you even know how to count?” He asked.

You stopped counting and looked at him, annoyance plastered across your face, you knew your mother would not condone you acting like this to a customer, but you couldn’t help it, “Aren’t you a little young to order a cake?”

“It’s for my brother!” The boy exclaimed.

“Ok… Pedro.” You spoke seeing his name on the order, “You can pick it up tomorrow at 5 pm.”

He gawked at you, “to-tommorow?” But I need it by tonight!”

You paid him no mind, “Well that’s how it works. You should have ordered sooner.”

He dug around in his pocket before pulling out some change, “What if I gave you this, would that change your mind?”

You looked at him unimpressed, “That’s $5.”

“It’s all I have! Please it’s my brother’s birthday today and I accidentally ruined the cake!” He was beginning to plead, and you couldn’t help but feel pleased now that the tables had turned.

“How did you ruin the cake?” You asked, not being able to contain your curiosity.

“I was playing football in the house, even though my mom always says I can’t play it inside, but it was too hot outside so I-“ You stopped listening to his rambling too focused on what he said.

He played football.

“Are you good?” You cut him off.

He grinned at your question, “Of course! I’m the best in my school!”

You smiled at him, a plan forming in your head, “Okay I’ll move the cake up the queue, so it’s done faster, but you have to teach me to play football.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Why do you want to learn?”

“I want to be on the girl’s team. I always wanted to learn but my mom never let me play with the neighborhood kids because I was the only girl.”

He thought about your proposition, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he thought it over, “Won’t she care now?”

You rolled your eyes, “It’ll be a secret. Duh!”

He stared at you for a second longer before shrugging his shoulders, “Okay. But I get to set when we meet.”

You nodded, “Okay, come back to the bakery at 5 pm today and I’ll give you the cake and then you can tell me when we can play.”

He gave you a nod before exiting the store, leaving you nervous about how you were going to pull this off and excited about finally being able to play the game you had wanted to learn for years.

He came back to collect his cake later that day, and the next day marked your first official ‘training session’ as he liked to call them. You would meet him every other day at 6 pm on the empty football fields near the edge of your neighborhood, after school and your shift at the bakery.

You had told your family that you had made a friend, Marcy, and that the two of you would go biking every other day to explore all the different parts of the city.

Those training sessions soon turned into staying past ‘practice time’ to eat ice cream from the stand next to his house. Those then turned into day trips to the beach and exploring the random shops littered across the boardwalk.

Eventually, the angry boy that had turned up at your family’s bakery became your best friend, and when the two of you ended up at the same secondary school your bond only deepened, and soon you were spending every lunch period with him.

Now at 16, you and Pedro had long been football practice partners and best friends. Your family knew him well enough now, and you knew his like the back of your hand.

You had been lying on your floor, feet up, staring at the ceiling when Pedro had walked in.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, staring at you with narrowed eyes.

You rolled your eyes, “Jeez Pedro you’re so judgy. I’m bored, come lay.”

He huffed, but came to lie next to you anyways, feet knocking into yours as he tried to get them up, “You were supposed to meet me 10 minutes ago.”

You laughed, “Oh shit sorry. I just finished at the bakery.”

He nodded, turning to face you, voice taking on a softer tone, “How’s your abuela?”

You took in a breath, still not used to talking about it, “She’s better, still not talking though.”

Your grandmother had suffered a stroke two weeks ago when she was working late one night preparing a cake for one of her most beloved customers.

No one had found her for nearly 15 minutes after she had hidden herself in the back kitchen, away from your mother and tia getting ready for bed upstairs.

Since then, the bakery had flipped on its head, your whole family reeling in the loss of your grandmother, the woman who was always talking, the one who loved sharing stories and was patient enough to explain things as many times as you needed without fail, now being silenced to a life without the ability to share her ideas. Business had been booming right before your grandmother’s accident, but since then the demand had been too high to meet the supply, and slowly the customers were dwindling down. Your grandmother was the glue holding the bakery together, without her everything was falling apart, and your family was left picking up the pieces.

“I’m sorry.” Pedro spoke.

You shrugged it off, pretending it wasn’t ripping you apart from the inside out, “It’s fine. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Ok, well I heard back from the football scout.” He said changing the subject.

You shot up, eyes widening with excitement, “Oh my god! What did he say?”

You made eye contact with him, seeing the hesitation in his eyes, “What? Did something happen?”

He shook his head slowly, “No nothing like that.”

“Okay then…” You pressed, anxious to hear what happened.

“I got in.”

You screamed, tackling Pedro into a hug, sending you back to the ground. You kept your arms wrapped around him as you slid off his body, legs splayed across his, “That’s incredible! I knew you could do it, you’re amazing!”

He laughed at your affection, hand around your waist tugging you closer to him, “Thanks linda.”

“Why aren’t you as excited as me?” You asked, surprised at the fact he wasn’t screaming and jumping around with you.

“Uh- well the uhm- uh- joder I don’t- It’s in Barcelona.” He finally admitted.

Your hand slid off his shoulders and you looked at him in disbelief.

You were torn, on one hand, you were ecstatic for him, you knew he had been dreaming about this since he was practically born, long before he even met you. You also knew he was immensely talented, and that he deserved to be able to share his love for football with the world. However, you would be lying if you said you were only happy for him because there was a small part of you that couldn’t grasp the concept of him leaving, of not being able to graduate together like you always promised you would, or having no more summers filled with football, sugary delights, and pretending to be tourists.

He was your best friend, you told him everything, you had spent numerous nights spilling your souls to each other, saying any and everything on your mind. You knew that he still slept with a nightlight on at thirteen because he had seen Paranormal Activity and it has apparently “changed the trajectory of his life”. For every little insignificant moment of your life, he was there, like when you tripped and chipped your tooth in Mrs. Fernandez’s 8th grade history class, he was there helping you up after laughing so hard he had tears streaming down the sides of his face. But now, for bigger life events, like graduation, or university, he was going to be gone, hundreds of miles away.

“Are you going to say something?” He was nervous, chewing on his lip anxiously as he waited for your response.

You didn’t know what to say.

This was his dream; it would be too selfish to say anything to jeopardize that. So even though you felt a tiny skip in your heart every time he looked at you with those shining brown eyes and lopsided grin, you pulled back, “You should go.”

He took a deep breath staring at you so intently you were beginning to wonder if your face was giving you away, the words please don’t go I need you plastered across your forehead in red ink.

“You sure?” He asked again.

You avoided his eyes, not being able to handle the thought of your life changing so drastically in a matter of days, “Pedro this is your dream. You’ve wanted to play for Barcelona since you were little, you have to take it. This could be your one chance, you can’t miss out.”

“But what about what I’ll miss out on here?”

You sighed, “What lil ole’ me?” Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you come visit. Besides I have other friends y’know?” You joked, finally looking at him.

His eyes shined so intensely with emotion that you had to quickly look away so you wouldn’t cry in front of him, a lump already beginning to form in your throat.

“So, when do you leave?”

“Next week.”

You let out a short laugh, “Oh, wow. That’s so soon.”

You heard him begin to talk but cut him off, feeling bad about how negative you sounded, “You’ll be playing for the A team in no time then. Can’t believe I’m friends with a celebrity.”

He smiled, bringing you up with him as he sat up, tilting your chin to make you look at him, “I’ll miss you.”

You gave him a soft smile, leaning up to brush his hair away from his face before pinching his cheek playfully, “I’ll miss you too linda. But Barcelona’s only a plane ride away.”

He groaned hearing the nickname, “Ugh Y/n how many times have I told you to stop calling me that.”

You giggled, enjoying making him mad, “Oh c’mon you know you love it.”

You glanced at the time, seeing it was a quarter past nine, “Oh shit, I forgot to close the bakery.” You said rushing to stand up.

He walked with you downstairs into the shop, “Isn’t your mom closing tonight?”

You shook your head, “She said she was going to see abuela early tonight since it’s her birthday. She told me to close it when she left, but I forgot.”

“Ok well, I should probably go then. See you tomorrow?”

You agreed, saying goodbye, watching him leave as you locked up.

He was halfway down the dimly lit street when he suddenly spun around,

“I’ll come visit you, I promise!” He shouted, walking backwards as he pointed at you with an annoyingly perfect grin.

“Yah, yah, whatever you say.” You teased, watching as his figure disappeared around the bend onto the main road.

You already had tears in your eyes when you shut the door. You cursed yourself for being so emotional lately, the news of your abuela, and now this was taking its toll on you.

You wanted to feel happy for him, you really did, but you felt like he was going at the worst possible time. Everything in your life was falling apart, while his was falling into place. You didn’t want to be the anchor weighing him down.

You were lost in your thoughts as you closed the store in a daze, watching as the open light flickered off encompassing you in darkness.

The next few days went by in a blur, days spent studying at school and nights spent locked away in the bakery, picking up extra shifts to accommodate the ever-growing task list. Pedro would sneak into the kitchen every evening, sneakily taking bites of the frosting when your back was turned with his fingers as he told you about his day and everything he planned to do when he got to Barcelona.

Eventually, the day you had almost forgotten about came. It was a Saturday morning, the weather was chilly for spring, clouds of rolling gray covering the sun, matching your mood perfectly.

You were standing at the train station with Pedro’s entire family saying goodbye.

“I know you’re shit at texting, so you have to promise to at least write me a letter every month, so I know what you’re up to.” Pedro said, hands going around you as he wrapped you in a hug.

“Letter? What is this eighteen century London?” You weakly joked, head resting on his shoulder.

“Ok fine not letter’s maybe emails? I know the cell service is bad in your neighborhood.”

You shoved him playfully, “Oi. Sorry not all of us are world class athletes and can afford to live in nice areas.”

He laughed, pulling you back into his arms, “I’m kidding, obviously. I love your little shack.”

You gasped, offended, swatting his shoulder, “I live in a house Pedro. A 2 floor house, not a shack.”

He chuckled above you, resting his chin on your head as he rocked your bodies back and forth, giving you one last squeeze, “Oh how I’m going to miss making fun of you.”

You glared at him, slipping him the finger when his mother wasn’t looking.

He boarded the train, looking back one more time as he waved.

You gave him a watery smile, not being able to hold back your emotions, holding hands with his mother as you watched him start the journey in front of him.

Then he was gone.

A few months had passed since then, and still not a single visit from Pedro, or Pedri as he went by now. He had planned to come for graduation but had a last-minute event that he couldn’t cancel. Then he was supposed to come for your birthday but missed it because he was finally offered playing time.

Each time he missed something, you felt a piece of your childhood chip away, like you were slowly losing the younger version of yourself that was all starry-eyed, putting all her trust in pinky promises and boys with twinkling brown eyes and dimples.

The immense sadness you had first felt when Pedri left had slowly turned into happiness once you learned just how much he was enjoying his time in Barcelona, and how good it felt to be able to play professionally and with other people who were just as passionate as him.

You still talked to him occasionally on Facetime, whenever both of your busy schedules allowed time, but your monthly letters were still going strong.

While you had once shitted on the prospect of making handwritten letters for each other, it has soon provided a sense of comfort for you. Reading his words, about his life, in his handwriting, written specifically for you, made you feel closer to him than you had in months. If you really stared at the words, you could almost make out his voice whispering them to you as he sat with you downstairs in the kitchen annoying you as you prepared the pastries.

You still saw his family quite a bit, bringing them sweets when you heard that Pedri’s older brother had graduated from university.

His mother had tried to convince you to go to Barcelona with them, but you had refused, not able to leave the bakery by itself, or your mother.

Since your grandmother’s stroke, your mother had become the shell of the woman she once was. No longer was she overly optimistic, or especially cheery in the morning when she opened the shop, stopping to ask every customer how they were, thanking them for their business. Now, she sat on a stool at the counter, routinized to a shift of taking orders, handing out receipts, and making the same four teas. The love that she had for baking was gone.

She went through her days in rehearsed speeches and solitude, her only outing being to visit your abuela every night.

Since her attack, your abuela’s health had severely diminished. While in the first weeks following the accident, she had made some process, being able to pronounce syllables and say names, she regressed significantly as winter approached, blanketing the skies with bleak gray’s, turning the ground bitter and the wind chilly.

It was the second Friday of the New Year when you received the call. You were in the middle of your online university class when you heard a shattering noise, followed by a wail.

You shot out of your seat, shaky hands slamming the computer shut as you raced towards the front of the store.

You found your mother slumped on the floor, sobbing into her hands, fragments of broken glass surrounding her small frame.

Onlookers watched as you slowly approached, reaching out a comforting hand before helping her up and guiding her to the back, where she could at least mourn in peace.

She didn’t say anything, but you already knew.

You led her into the back office, sliding the never-ending stack of bills off the chair, sitting her down, “Mamà, lo siento, eres muy valiente.” Mama, I’m sorry, you are so brave.

Her shaking hands grasped yours tightly as she tried to collect herself, looking up at you with hauntingly vacant red-rimmed eyes.

Your heart broke at the sight, your mother was the strongest person you had ever met, she was fiercely loving, and always held her head high, even when your father abandoned the both of you, even when she would get made fun of for her heavy Spanish accent, she never said anything, remaining perfectly poised.

Now that charade had been lifted, and you were beginning to realize that all those years spent thinking she was super women you had been wrong, she wasn’t, she was human, just like everyone else, she too cried, and wondered if she could have done things differently, but this was the first time she had ever been vulnerable enough to show you that side of herself.

“Lo siento princessa, te merces algo major. No he sido justo contigo.” She said, her voice frail and exhausted. I’m sorry princess, you deserve better. I haven’t been fair to you.

You shook your head, kneeling and hugging her around the waist like you did when you were nine, “No hat problema mamà. Estoy aqui para ti.” No problem, Mama. I’m here for you.

She smiled at you through her tears, fingers stroking your hair lovingly, “Mi niña.”

You hugged her harder, wishing you could take her pain away. You would give anything to see the color return to her face or watch her dull eyes fill with warmth once more.

Your life changed bit by bit after that. Each day it twisted into something more unrecognizable, until the joys of childhood seemed so far behind you, and the thought of your best friend no longer crossed your mind every day.

After the death of your grandmother, you and your mother had been thrown headfirst into the upkeep of the bakery. While you once had your tia to help when things got extra busy, she too moved, following her husband to the States. That left just you, your still grieving mother, and a growing stack of unpaid bills.

Every day felt like a repetition of the previous. Each morning you would wake up at 5 am, prepare the dishes for the next day, wake your mother up at 7 am when your classes officially began, half listening to lectures while working the cash register, and then at 5 pm you would take over baking when Meera, the sweet girl who lived across the street would have her shift, managing the front of the store. Finally, when your mother had left to visit your grandmother’s grave you would close the shop, making sure to leave a light on for when she came home in the early hours of the morning.

While she tried to be better for you, she still suffered adjusting to a new normal with your grandmother. Your grandmother had been a rock to her when she was going through the issues with your father and was always there to support her no matter what. Your mother threw herself into the business and not much else, these days she was just a shadow of her former self, quietly gliding past, doing everything with half the effort.

Between balancing your personal life, school, and the bakery, the thought of writing back to Pedri had completely slipped your mind.

It had been so long since the two of you had last seen each other, and you didn’t feel like the same girl who waved goodbye to him that Saturday morning at the station.

Since now and then your childhood had abruptly ended, joining your grandmother in the grave, and you had been thrown headfirst into adulthood, which consisted of stressing, overworking, and pleading with the electric company to keep the lights on another day.

All you had around you was things dragging you down, and you hated the thought of adding Pedri to the mix. Linda Pedri who always made you laugh with the weirdest jokes, and always encouraged you to follow your dreams. If only he could see you now you thought.

The letters that had been sent between the two of you had dwindled over time, with a new letter every month, going to 3 months, and now over 6 months. You were to blame for that, Pedri had written to you every month, just as he promised, but the worse things got for you, the better they seemed to be for him, and you didn’t want to say anything to mess that up for him.

He didn’t even know about your grandmother passing away.

His brother had moved to the States following his graduation and his parents spent so much time traveling between Barcelona and the US that they were rarely around anymore.

One of the last times he sent you a letter was 3 months ago, letting you know that he had been selected to be part of the Men’s World Cup team representing your country. You had been over the moon for him, jumping up and down, celebrating in your bedroom after you had received the news. You had been desperate to write back, letting him know how proud you were when your mother had walked past your room, the stench of alcohol radiating off her body.

You froze mid-sentence, twisting in your chair to watch her stumble into the bedroom.

You sighed; it was 3 pm.

All the things you wanted to say to him suddenly seemed too insignificant, what good news did you have to share with him? That you got accepted to your dream college but couldn’t go because your mother was unstable? Or that every day you woke up wishing you were ten again, free of stress, and playing football with him on the uneven field next to the supermarket?

There was no easy way to say it, and frankly, you were ashamed of the life you had been living. You wanted him to remember you as the funny girl who loved all that life had to offer and went to bed dreaming of the future.

So instead of replying you crumbled up the paper and tossed it in the trash.

You could love him, but maybe from afar was best.

He sent you one more letter after that asking why you hadn’t responded but you didn’t have the heart to tell him. So, you ignored it.

The next month a letter never came. You told yourself the sinking feeling you felt in your chest was just reality setting in.

You carried on with life but made sure to keep an eye on him whenever you could. You watched him win the golden boy award, fingers itching to send him a congratulations text, or a I knew you could do it, but your hands always hovered over the send button for a second too long.

The change you had been looking for came in the form of an seventeen-year-old, wide-eyed, brown-haired midfielder.

It was nearing the beginning of the summer season when the influx of tourists and long days would hit, you were in the back, as usual, preparing in advance. You had learned the hard way last summer what would happen if you made orders on a day-to-day basis.

You heard the bell above the door jingle and made your way to the front, a smile adorning your face, “Hi welcome. What can I get started for you today?”

There was a teenage boy standing across from you, mouth open but no words coming out.

You stared at him with a confused look, “Hello?”

He closed his mouth abruptly before words started spilling out, “Oh my god I can’t believe it’s actually you. You look so different in the photos.”

Now you were really confused.

“I’m sorry do I know you?” You asked, trying to remember if he was one of your classmates from secondary school.

He shook his head, “No sorry. I’m Gavi, I’m a friend of-“

“Pedro’s.” You finished his sentence, saying his name for the first time in what felt like years.

The boy looked at you stunned, “Yeah how did you know?”

You sighed, playing with your sleeve, “He always talked about you in his letters. Pablo right?”

The boy nodded excitedly, coming closer, “That’s actually why I’m here. I saw the letters. Happy Birthday by the way.”

You looked back at him stunned, “How did you-“

“Pedri has today marked on his calendar, and when I saw the open letters on his desk, I put two and two together.”

You couldn’t help the blush that took over your face, it had been so long since you had thought of Pedri and how he made you feel, but it seemed just a visit from his friend was bringing them all back to the surface.

Gavi noticed your red cheeks, “Awh where you guys in love?”

You choked on your spit, “What? No way! We were just friends!” You sputtered out, the blush only deepening.

Gavi laughed, “Funny Pedri said the same thing.”

You laughed nervously, unsure what he was implying.

“Anyways I’m here to bring you back to Barcelona to surprise Pedri.”

Your eyes widened at the thought, and you shrunk back, “What? I can’t go with you.”

“Well, why not?” He questioned.

“I uh- I have to take care of the bakery, I can’t just leave.” You relented, not wanting to tell him everything.

You had just met him 5 minutes ago for Gods’ sake.

“Well, don’t you have family that can run it while you’re gone? Pedri said it was family run.”

“No. I don’t.” You said defensively.

“Plus, I haven’t talked to him in months. I don’t even think he remembers me.” You continued.

Gavi let out a laugh, “That’s bullshit! I could never get him to shut up about you. Every morning it was Y/n this, Y/n that, ooh do you think Y/n would like this? It was like his favorite activity was talking about you. But then a while ago I just stopped hearing your name and I started to wonder why. So, I did some digging, and I found the notes.” He explained, hands gesturing wildly as he retold the events.

You raised your eyebrow at him, and he was quick to defend himself.

“Ok well not digging, I found the letters this morning on the desk, they were basically asking to be opened, and when I noticed that they stopped coming right around when Pedri started to act more closed off I knew you had something to do with it. So, I booked the first flight here, and now here I am.”

You didn’t know how to respond to his story. He waited for you to say something but you were too in your head. Pedri had been acting differently? Had you indirectly been affecting him negatively? Even when you went out of your way to avoid bringing him down you couldn’t help it. It felt like every higher power was working against you. Reminding you that you were no good for him, he was a gifted player who deserved all that life had to offer, and you were just an overworked, barely passing-by baker.

“He’s been acting different?” You spoke, voice soft as you tried to keep your thoughts locked away.

“Why’d you stop writing Y/n?”

You glanced up at Gavi seeing him already staring at you with sincere eyes, “Why do you even care?” You huffed moving away from the counter, putting space in between the two of you.

He only moved closer, leaning over the counter, staring directly at you, “I know the Y/n I heard about in stories and saw in pictures and she’s much different than the person standing in front of me. I just want to know why you pushed him away. I just want to know what happened.”

Your bottom lip quivered as you looked at him, every word he spoke felt like a sledgehammer to your heart, because you knew it was true, in trying to hold your family together, you were letting go of yourself.

You felt your eyes fill with water in spite of yourself, and you quickly glanced around the bakery, only seeing an old couple hidden away behind an alcove.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes, saying the words you had never uttered out loud before, “My grandmother died, and my mother’s an alcoholic. I’m all she has.”

You opened your eyes to see Gavi looking at you with a sad expression, probably feeling pity for what a shitty hand life had dealt you.

“I know this doesn’t change anything but I’m sorry.”

You accepted his apology, “Thanks.”

It was quiet after that, the hum of the tea kettle in the background and the chatter of the couple in the corner being the only noise.

Finally, Gavi spoke, “Does Pedri know?”

You shook your head softly, “No, and I don’t want him to. I don’t want to burden him with my problems.”

“He’s your best friend. Why won't you tell him?” He exclaimed.

“Because I know the second he hears he’ll drop everything and come, and I can’t be responsible for what will happen if he does. He’s dreamed of the life he’s living for years, I won’t take that away from him, no matter what.” You argued, voice stern.

Gavi was silent, taking in your words, “You’re a good friend.”

You let out a small grin, “I’m the best.”

He smiled, “At least come see him. Even if it’s just for a little bit.”

You groaned, “Gavi did you not just hear a word I said? I can’t leave the bakery. I’m like a prisoner stuck in a world filled with raspberry pastries and buttercream frosting.”

Gavi laughed, “Pedri told me you were funny. I kinda see it now.”

You gave him a playful glare.

“No but seriously, what do I need to do to convince you to come? You’re telling me you don’t miss him at all?”

You stared at him, “Gavi no offense but I don’t want to get all mushy gushy with you.”

“I won’t tell. Pinky promise.” He held out his finger, wagging it around till you took it.

You laughed at the silly notion remembering the times when pinky promises were the end all be all, “Ok you better not be crossing your fingers behind your back!” You pointed out.

He held out his other hand, shoving it in your face as you hit it away, “I’m not see!”

“Fine. I believe you.”

“Ok sooo…”

“So?” You asked.

“Oh my god Y/n spill your soul to me. I have to know.”

You giggled at his over-dramatization, “Ok, well uhm of course I miss Pedri. He was my best friend, and I wish he was still around, but I’d much rather him be happy without me than sad with me.”

“But he would be even more happy if you were with him.”

“I don’t know about that. If he saw me right now I don’t even think he would recognize me. I’ve changed a lot since we were last together.”

“But everyone changes. Plus, I’m sure he’ll love the new you even more.”

“Love? Who said anything about love?” You asked intrigued.

Gavi slapped a hand over his mouth, “I’ve said too much.”

Now you were curious, “No Gavi c’mon you can tell me. We’re friends.” You coaxed, trying to get him to cave.

He looked like he was really thinking about it before he gave in, “Don’t tell anyone, but I think Pedri was in love with you.”

You felt like the ground had just been pulled away from underneath you, earth’s gravitational axis shifting, sending you toppling over the edge of a cliff,

“What? Did he tell you that?” You asked breathlessly.

Gavi chewed on his lip, “Well not in so many words, just more in his actions. Like I said when he first met him all he did was talk about you, we all thought you were his secret girlfriend that he was hiding away somewhere in the islands. We obviously didn’t know the extent of it then. But then he started pulling away, and the wins didn’t seem as important to him anymore and I started to think people don’t really get that affected unless they really care about someone.”

You mulled over his words, “You know you’re pretty wise.”

“Thanks. I’ve been told so before.”

“Really?”

“No. Not once.”

You let out a snort, “Well here’s to firsts I guess.”

“What’s your first?” He questioned.

You smiled, “I guess going to Barcelona.”

He cheered at your answer, fists pumping the air. You quickly pulled his hands down with a disapproving look, “There’s customers!”

“There’s two people!” He exclaimed.

You shushed him beginning to come up with a plan to visit. You knew you couldn’t leave right away, you still had to assign people to cover your shifts at the bakery and see if your mother was stable enough to be left on her own for a few days. You also had to finish your university finals scheduled for next week.

You planned with Gavi for him to come back next week and help you tidy up any loose ends. Then you would hopefully be heading off to see Pedri for the first time in over a year.

You gave him your number and thanked him for coming to find you.

“Wait how did you find me?” You asked Gavi as he was leaving.

He smirked, “Pedri said you had the best bakery in town. So, I googled best bakery and followed the directions, and then voila there you were.”

You chuckled, happy that at least the bakery’s quality hadn’t diminished.

After Gavi left you busied yourself by preparing the store for when you were gone, adding extra shifts to the schedule that you could just barely afford, and diving headfirst into studying for your finals.

Meanwhile, in Barcelona, Gavi was being ruthlessly bullied by his teammates at Monday morning practice.

“Get this, Gavi flew all the way to the Canary Islands for one day. Because of a girl.” Torres commented, earning laughs from the other players.

Only Pedri looked up in surprise, “You went to the Canary Islands?”

Gavi passed the ball, debating telling the truth before deciding against it, “Yeah, was only there a couple hours though.”

“Who’d you see?” Pedri questioned.

Before Gavi could respond, Ansu cut in, “Mystery girl. She’s been texting him all morning. It’s a 928 number so you know it’s a Canarian girl.”

Gavi cursed him under his breath, “Ansu stop checking my phone you dick. I’m just talking to a friend.”

Ferran nodded, “Right. A ‘friend’ you’re going to go see again this weekend.”

Gavi groaned, silently begging for the questioning to end.

“Who are you texting, maybe I know them.” Pedri joked.

Gavi laughed uncomfortably, “I don’t think you know this one.”

The conversation died at that when Coach ordered them to split up and begin a practice game.

Gavi let out a sigh of relief, glad he hadn’t blown your cover.

The next weekend came, and you found yourself growing more and more nervous as the minutes ticked by. Gavi was supposed to be here in five minutes, and you felt like you were going to projectile vomit everywhere.

You walked into your mother’s room trying to distract yourself from the nervous flips of your stomach or the erratic beating of your heart.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine Mamà?”

She nodded from the bed, motioning for you to come closer, “I’ll be fine I promise. It will be good to get back to work.”

You bit the inside of your cheek anxiously. While the days of day drinking and passing out at noon were behind your mother, she still couldn’t help but crave a bottle every night. She was slowly recovering, and you hoped you being away wouldn’t cause her to relapse.

“You call if you need anything okay? I’ll come right away.”

She patted your cheek affectionately, “Go, you worry too much Y/n.”

You smiled kissing her cheek before heading downstairs just in time to see Gavi walk in.

“Oh look it’s my favorite non-patron customer.” You sarcastically said.

The boy grinned at you, giving you a hug, “Y/n how have you been? All ready?”

You nodded, “Yes sir. But feeling like I might throw up at any second so warning.”

He scrunched up his nose in disgust, “Please do not throw up in the plane or I will be so mad at you.”

You glared at him, “Please I’m much classier than that. I’m more of a throw up on the side of the road kind-of gal.”

He gave you a wary look, “Aren’t you just a gem?”

You smiled sweetly at him.

The plane ride went smoothly and by that you meant you didn’t throw up but instead just complained about it in between badgering Gavi about your nerves on meeting Pedri.

Finally, the boy had enough of your ranting, “Y/n. You're great but if I have to hear another word about how Pedri makes you feel I’m throwing myself off this plane, football career be damned.”

It was pretty silent after that. It was your first time on a flight since you were little and even though the flight time was extremely short you made the most of it.

You thanked the flight crew as you got off, earning a, “Enjoy your stay in Barcelona,” in response.

You couldn’t believe you were here, in Barcelona, away from your small little town for the first time in over a decade.

You and Gavi breezed through baggage claim and before you knew it you were getting into a car, greeting his father, and being ushered into his house.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay here.” You told his father once you walked inside.

He gave you a warm smile, “No problem at all chica.”

“This is my house so you should be thanking me if anything.” Gavi cut in, earning a wack on the head from his father.

You rolled your eyes, “Alright well thanks Gavi.”

He gave you a bright smile, “You’re so welcome.”

After that you made your way up to the guestroom, exhaustion taking over your body as you fell asleep, for the first time in a long time dreaming of the possibilities of the future.

You woke up to Gavi’s yelling, “Y/n are you up?”

You groaned, looking at the clock, before pulling a pillow over your head.

It seemed that not only bakers woke up at 5 am, but also athletes.

“What do you want?” You murmured.

“Do you want to come to practice?” He asked, entering your room.

Your eyes widened, you weren’t prepared at all, you hadn’t even showered or mentally prepared yourself.

“No way.”

Gavi groaned, kicking your leg that was dangling off the edge of the bed, “Fine, but I’ll be back at 2 pm, and then we have to figure out a plan.”

You glared at him, hiding your legs between the sheets, “Ok. Have fun.”

He waved goodbye, closing the door behind him, leaving you with only one thing running through your mind.

Pedri.

You wondered what it would be like once you saw him again. Did he still look the same? Was he still the same carefree, level headed guy you said goodbye to last year?

You hoped he wouldn’t be too mad about your unplanned visit.

You kept thinking over what you were going to say as you got ready, how you would explain why you stopped responding to him, telling him everything in your life you had been hiding for the past year.

Soon enough you heard keys jingling, unlocking the door, and Gavi’s sweaty face greeted you.

“Today’s practice was brutal.” He said, kicking off his shoes, and making his way to the kitchen.

“What happened?” You asked.

“Got grilled about you, as usual, everyone thinks I’m hopelessly in love with you. They know you’re here by the way.”

You nearly choked on your sandwich, sputtering, “Oh my god. How do they know? Do they know it’s me?”

He shook his head, “There were some photos taken by fans at the airport, guess we didn’t see them. Don’t worry though it was when we were hugging so your face is covered.”

You let out a sigh of relief, falling back into your chair, “Thank God. I can’t believe we almost blew it!”

Gavi laughed, “I know, we’re so bad at this. Pedri was so quiet today, I think he’s suspicious.”

“Really?”

“He said like two sentences all of practice, and the only time he spoke to me was to ask about the mystery girl.” Gavi pointed out.

You shrugged, “Maybe he was just out of it today.”

Gavi gave you a look, “We both know that’s not true.”

You sighed, looking everywhere but at him, “I think this was a bad idea.”

You felt Gavi walk up beside you, tilting your chin so you were forced to look at him, “Y/n shut up, you’re awesome. Yes, you’re annoying every now and then, and won’t stop talking even at the worst times,” you glared at him, “but I get why Pedri loves you so much.” You smiled at his words, the nerves dissipating.

In the distance, you could hear a door opening.

You went to open your mouth to thank him when suddenly he was ripped away from you and shoved to the ground, hard.

“Qué demonios?” Gavi asked confused before his lips turned into a straight line and a somber expression took over his face. What the hell?

“Pedri.” The boy spoke as he warily stood up, “I swear-“

“You fucking asshole.” Pedri was seething.

Your eyes widened at the situation, but you stood frozen in place.

Gavi went to speak again, hands outstretched trying to reason with Pedri but he was cut off,

“Ansu said her name and I swear my world tilted and my stomach dropped because there’s no way my friend would do that to me right? There’s no way the random girl he’s gone to see every weekend is my best friend who can’t even be bothered to send me a text back.”

Pedri shoved the younger boy in the chest again, pushing him against the rattling cupboards, “So then I come to your house paranoid, thinking I’ve gone crazy because I keep getting the feeling that your mystery girl isn’t a mystery to me, and then I come here and see this. You? With her? With my-“

“Pedro it’s not like that I swear.” You finally spoke up, trying to diffuse the tension.

He didn’t even spare you a glance, too focused on his anger and the throbbing pain he was feeling in his chest, it felt like the air was squeezing out his lungs every time he thought about you and Gavi.

He glared at the boy in front of him, teeth clenched, he never knew he could loathe anyone as much as he did Gavi, “You were supposed to be my friend.”

The midfielder shook his head rapidly, “I am I swear. If you could just let me-“

Pedri disregarded him, finally turning to look at you, “Y/n.” He said your name so bitterly that you shrunk back.

You reached out to touch him, but he quickly pulled away, a dry, humorless laugh spilling out, “You left me. And for what? For him?”

“Pedro if you just let-“

“It’s Pedri. Only my friends get to call me Pedro.”

His words stung. It felt like he was plucking every single strand of hope you had left and then stomping on them while you could do nothing but watch them whither away.

Your voice shook as you spoke, “Ok Pedri, please let me explain. I came here for you.”

He scoffed, “Right you came here for me. I haven’t heard from you in months, in months, and you just expect me to believe one day you were like oh I wonder how Pedri’s doing, and decided to hop on a flight here? If you really cared, you would have never stopped writing.”

You felt your eyes fill with unushered tears as you fought, but you refused to let them fall, “I care! In fact, I care too much!”

He gave you a sarcastic smile, “Well you sure have an odd way of showing it. Is making other people feel worthless how you show your love?”

You bit back a sob at his words, not expecting him to be so cruel, “I- I never meant to make you feel like that. I ju- just-“

“What Y/n, you just what?”

“I just thought you’d be better off without me!” You finally revealed your true feelings.

“That’s not your decision to make!” You were screaming at each other now, and you could see Gavi slip out of the kitchen from the corner of your eye.

“You don’t know what it was like-“ You started, but he cut you off.

“You’re right I don’t know. Only because you never let me in. Did you really think I wouldn’t be there for you? You are my number one priority!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, “I know you would have, but I didn’t want that for you. I knew the second I told you something was wrong you would have dropped everything and booked the first flight out. Things were just starting off for you, and I didn’t want to be one that got in the way.”

Silence followed your admission as you opened your eyes to see Pedri looking back at you with glassy eyes, chest heaving,

“I would have been there for you.” He emphasized, voice breaking.

You sighed, all the anger leaving your body as you slouched against the table, “I know.” You admitted.

You both looked around, unsure of how to move forward. You decided telling the truth was probably the best course of action.

“I stopped writing after my abuela died. Mamà went into a bad mental state, she just wasn’t herself anymore y’know? And I kept reading about all the amazing things you were doing, all the good that was coming your way, and I just felt like burdening you with my problems was only going to take away from that. All my accomplishments seemed insignificant at the time; how could I celebrate when my grandmother had just been buried? When my mother was grieving, barely able to stay sober long enough to remember she had a daughter let alone a bakery to run?” You shrugged your shoulders helplessly, “I don’t know, after that, life seemed so insignificant, like my sole purpose was to keep my grandmother’s legacy alive by putting everything I had into the bakery. I guess along the way I lost what mattered the most to me.” You confessed, looking up at him.

Pedri didn’t say a word, instead pulling you into his arms, rocking your bodies back and forth just like had done all those months ago at the train station. You squeezed him, burying your face into his chest and inhaling. He still smelled the same.

That fact alone gave you more comfort than you had in months.

You felt one hand rub soothing circles on your back, while the other went to play with the strands of your hair, just like he used to do when you were kids.

You couldn’t help the smile that took over your face.

Standing here, in his arms, you felt like there was suddenly hope again.

You pulled away to look up at him, but kept yourself in his embrace, “I’ve missed you so much Pedri.”

He looked at you for a moment, eyes sparkling like they always did, he had a strange expression on his face, like he couldn’t decide what to say. Finally, his expression shifted into one of sincerity as he spoke,

“I love you.”

Your world slowed down as your heartbeat picked up, did he mean it in the way you hoped he did?

The confusion must have shown on your face because he continued, “I’m in love with you. Honestly, I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen playing football behind my house, probably since even before then. You’re the kindest person I know, and every time I score a goal or achieve something you’re the first person I want to tell. I want to make you proud, and I know that these last few months without you have been absolute hell – I know I made promises I couldn’t keep, but I swear to you if you give me another chance, I'll never take you for granted. I just want to be able to share things with you again."

You were awestruck at his confession. You had dotted around the lines of friends and something more for so long, and all the praying you had done in your room at sixteen seemed to have finally paid off.

His arms slid down to wrap around your waist as he brought you flush against his chest, "C'mon Y/n say something."

You looked up into his eyes confirming your thoughts, yep, he still had the same warm brown eyes and annoyingly perfect smile. Your hands went up to his cheeks as you squeezed them playfully, "Of course I love you linda, I'm sorry it took me so long to admit it. And I'm the one who took you for gra-"

You were mid-sentence when Pedri bent down, unable to resist any longer, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

You kissed him back immediately, hands running up the length of his arms before settling around his neck, bringing him as close as possible.

You tugged on his bottom lip playfully and heard him let out a groan, the sound shooting straight to your tummy sending a storm of butterflies fluttering around.

You both finally pulled away, gasping for air, chests heaving, foreheads touching.

"I've always wanted to do that." He said, nuzzling his nose with yours softly.

You felt your heart thud against your chest, synchronizing to the beat of his after a moment, "Me too."

"How about you spend the night at mine tonight?" He asked.

Your eyebrows rose in shock, not expecting him to be so forward.

He quickly realized how it sounded, "Not like that Y/n. I just missed spending time with you."

And there was the fluttery feeling in your stomach again. It seemed every time he said anything from now on all you could do was blush.

You bit your lip, nodding, "I'd like that."

He grinned at you before his eyes focused on your lips again, "Don't do that, it's distracting."

"Huh?" You asked, but he was already leaning down, kissing you senseless once more.

1K notes · View notes

luaspersona · 2 years ago

Text

ok, so i’m ashamed to say this is the first fic of your i’m reviewing harrow, because i’ve read plenty of your masterlist now and it’s safe to say i’m in love with your writing— but i never got around to actually reviewing it (which hopefully will change from now on). but ah, this fic was such a nice, unpretentious surprise that i had to comment about it. so let’s go!

first, i think it’s important to point out that i think you’re one of the greatest authors i’ve encountered 🥺💐 you seem to choose your words so carefully and your ability to control and cause effect is u-n-b-e-l-i-e-v-a-b-l-e.

like here, you can make us feel the depth of their connection and the fear of losing that bond for unrequited feelings right off the bat. but the love they feel for each other is also so palpable: the chemistry, how they just know when the other is overthinking or drifting away from just a single look... god, it’s all so fucking good, we don’t need to be told about their connection: we see it! and that's so 😩🤌🏽👩🏽‍🍳

i was so into it, so involved by the way you wrote this that i honestly forgot to screenshot parts that caught my attention the most ugh, i’m sorry–BUT! nevertheless i wanted to comment on some things anyway.

i like friends to lovers to some extent. i’m not a big fan of miscommunication and here i was so surprised to see jungkook just coming out and saying that he wanted to kiss the mc. the way he feels frustrated by her reaction and how she’s so shocked at his confession is so good, and it felt really natural. like, how would two very high people confess their attraction to each other after years pushing those feelings aside

mc was like–

and the smuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, god i loved how softly it started, how it grew into pure affection and trying to make up for the lost time 😩😩

i liked how she started trying to be submissive, but then switched it and had her dom moments too, it was 👏🏽 so 👏🏽 fucking 👏🏽 sexy, and the words you chose to narrated it made it even the more captivating, straight up one of the best smuts i’ve ever read. pure filth but with that sweet affection flavor, like the way he holds her with CARE i was dying

not to mention the fucking dick piercingsssss, god that was something i definetly didn’t know i wanted, but reading it just made me SCREAM omg, and the fact he made them specifically for her??? can’t cope with that.

i’d be super interested in a second part! i’ll be rereading some of your fics to cherish and value your work like you deserve, but i just wanted to start by this very smutty jungkook fic because i think it encapsulates one of the things i’ve grown to love about your writing: how you’re able to turn simple situations into deep, intricate relationships and moments, and make us feel as if we’ve known the characters forever, even if that’s the first time we’re meeting them or just getting a glimpse into their lives. but also, how nothing is half-assed with you. even a pwp can grow into a very well-written and involving story of two friends letting go of their fears to just live their wishessss god

What, now?

For as long as you and Jungkook have been friends, your feelings for him have been unrequited. Or have they?

☁ Jungkook x Reader ☁ word count: 13.6k ☁ friends to lovers, requited unrequited, pwp, flulff, explicit smut, nsfw, 18+ ☁ warnings: switch jungkook & switch reader, smoking weed, playful swatting and hitting (idk i'm an aries venus and i tend to playfully hit the people i love), tension and confessions, shot-gunning smoke, making out, light teasing and begging, anxiety, use of "baby" and "good girl/good boy", oral sex (f & m), fingering, a bit of squirting, dick piercingsssss, deepthroating, a hint of humiliation and cum play and spit, cum swallowing, unprotected sex, jungkook changes positions like he changes karaoke songs, booty eating and fingering, a bit of cockwarming, soft feelings. ☁ note: the time has come. i have written my first ever jungkook fic! i am very excited to be taking this important step, and i hope that you enjoy it. please blame/thank @jjkeverlast for putting this idea into my head and brainstorming with me! this contains literally the barest plot! ☁ beta read by @neoneunnajimin and @blog-name-idk 🥰 i love you both very much! ☁ posted march 2023 | read on ao3 ☁

"What, now?" Jeongguk asks, blinking heavily from staring at some fixed point on your comforter.

Frustrated, you sigh out a puff of smoke and set the joint onto a clear glass ashtray on your bedside table. Then you grab a pillow, gripping tightly to its soft, floral covering, and you chuck it at him.

"Oh, for the love of—" you complain as the pillow hits his shoulder, and he lets out a deep oof. "—you are impossible, Jeongguk!"

Jeongguk clutches his heart, feigning dramatically to be wounded, and leans back. Then, fear paints his face, and you realize he might actually be tipping over the edge of your bed as his arms flail out to the sides.

With an exasperated huff, you get onto your knees and lean forward, grabbing one of his flailing arms and yanking him to safety. As Jeongguk slouches toward you, your balance slips, and you crash headfirst into his knee, then roll onto your back in defeat as a throbbing ache blooms in the center of your forehead.

Jeongguk bends—brows knit with concern and wide, deep brown eyes accentuated by his browline glasses—staring straight into your soul. As he reaches to touch you, his dark brown curls fall forward, framing his beautiful face, causing you to panic-gasp and swat at his hand.

"Get away from me, you demon!"

"I'm sorry! Your bed is tall; I could have died!" he whines as you roll to safety by your headboard and scramble back into a seated position. You reach for the joint to take another deep inhale, letting the smoke settle before breathing it out, then you lean forward and hand it over.

"You go so far away when you're high," you grumble as you sit back, snatching another pillow to hug close.

"Sorry," Jeongguk mutters as he takes a slow, deep hit, hissing as he inhales and sighing on the exhale. "I get lost in my thoughts."

With a scoff, you roll your eyes.

"What were you thinking of, hmm?"

Jeongguk flits his gaze to you, which appears a bit sad, stirring something inside your tummy. For as long as you have known Jeongguk, he has been lighthearted and relaxed, finding levity in any situation. But lately, when you hang out, there is a heaviness—a tension, almost. Something hangs in the air—something he always seems on the edge of voicing but never does.

Jeongguk leans forward and hands you the joint, but rather than straightening out after you reach for it, he stays anchored on his palm, slouched in front of you. With a sigh, he cocks his head and says, "I don't know. What if I—" his eyes search around and past you, then return, "—what if you don't like what I've been thinking about?"

Ridiculous. The only thing Jeongguk could ever do to upset you is move to a new city or find some other way to pull the two of you apart. As long as your best friend is in your orbit, nothing can hurt you.

And, sure, the fact that you have a huge, overwhelming, insurmountable, absolutely dizzying fucking crush on him is frustrating—bordering infuriating, at times—but you suffer out of love. At least, that is what you tell yourself. You can yearn until the end of time as long as your best friend never leaves you.

Jeongguk clears his throat and settles back on his knees. You could swear his gaze falls past your eyes—lower, to your mouth—but he seems once again lost in thought, making him hard to read.

"I want to kiss you," he finally blurts out.

You choke on air, inhaling too sharply and coughing, squeezing your pillow tight. Jeongguk's shoulders slump forward, and he hangs his head and shakes it, letting out a soft, somewhat humorless laugh as he sits back up and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Forget it," he mutters.

Absolutely not.

"Jeon Jeongguk," you wheeze, gripping the corner of the pillow and swatting him with it, hitting his knees. He glances at you with a sad, somewhat distant expression, and your head fucking spins as you try to make sense of this situation.

"Is this just like...high talk?" you ask, suddenly feeling panicked that your very attractive best friend is talking about kissing you. "Like, I don't know, is the weed making you say silly shit?"

A frown tugs on Jeongguk's pretty lips.

"Silly shit? Wow, yeah, forget I said anything."

"That's not—" you feel guilty, sighing, "—Jeongguk—"

"No, no," he interrupts, waving a limp defeated hand. "Never mind."

You remember the joint in your grasp and take a useless puff, having to grab for the baby blue lighter sitting beside the ashtray and flick your thumb over the wheel a few times until a flame greets you. Gently, you inhale as fire engulfs the tip, bringing it back to life, and then, with a lungful, you pass it to your best friend, who gives a sad half-smile and says, "Thanks."

As you settle back against your headboard, clenching the lighter in your fist and hugging your pillow tight, your mind races. You struggle to grab onto any one thought long enough to really comprehend it; all you can seem to focus on is when? When could this feeling of his have started?

Jeongguk chuckles, but it lacks any mirth. And then he mutters, "Here, I thought I was being super obvious," causing your mouth to drop open.

"Okay, but...since when?"

"I've had feelings for you since the day we met," Jeongguk states, looking into your eyes, causing your stomach to do a backflip.

"Since wh—what? You what?"

Jeongguk opens his mouth to speak, but you wave your hands in the air, lighter wedged under your pinky and ring finger, to cut him off.

"No! Because, I have had feelings for you since the day we met! Which means—oh, god, what have we been doing?"

"I was a dork when we first met," Jeongguk grumbles, though he seems to have lightened up, smiling through his words.

Laughter quakes through you, and you nod your head cartoonishly, still absolutely dumbfounded by all of this.

"You were! You were smart, and funny, and kind, and even when your nose was still too big for your face, you were still the cutest dork I knew!"

The Jeongguk you met all those years ago, when he was tiny and shy, was already the love of your life. And as you aged and he began to bulk up, covering himself in tattoos and piercings, it only made your heart ache all the more.

Jeongguk's gaze falls, and a shy smile creeps across his face. He plays with the little metal ring in his lip, passing his teeth gently over it, then he looks back up, making firm eye contact.

With his voice dropping an octave lower, he asks, "You really have feelings for me?"

The shift in his tone and demeanor makes your heart pound, and you attempt to take a drag from the joint, realizing after two dazed inhales that it has gone out, once again. Sheepishly, you hold up the lighter and flick your thumb over the wheel once, then twice, watching as sparks fly and wondering if it is in any way symbolic or if that is the weed taking over your cloudy little brain and making you too hopeful for your own good.

With a deep inhale, you reignite the joint—hoping you have done a better job than last time—then you hold in the smoke and hand it back, feeling yourself become antsy under Jeongguk's intense gaze. He brushes his fingers against your knuckles as he slowly takes the dwindling offering and pulls it to his mouth, and you barely part your lips to let the smoke leave your lungs, watch intently as he sucks in and then smiles, licking his lips before slowly exhaling.

A chuckle breaks you from your trance, and you blink heavily while sitting up straight, gripping the life out of the pillow with your forearms. The weed, Jeongguk's confession, and his shift in mood all have you feeling lightheaded. You clear your throat and toss your lighter to the bedside table, which clatters on impact.

"Of course I do," you mutter, finally returning to the conversation that had hung as thick and heavy as the cloud of smoke between you. "Have you seen yourself, Jeongguk? Everybody has feelings for you."

Jeongguk smiles—still looks a bit shy, but with an air of confidence that makes your head spin. Although you know that there are no hallucinogenic properties to the weed you smoke—or, at least, very little—you struggle to grasp that this is reality.

"I don't care what everybody feels," he utters softly, leaning forward with his palms on the bed, joint sticking straight up between two fingers. "Just you."

Jeongguk crawls—fucking crawls—toward you, and you feel your brain begin to short-circuit. The air in the room is thick and warm, and you swallow a large lump in your throat. But it is his chuckle that really does you in—soft and light, and a little too deep for comfort, causing your heart to pound loudly in your ears and heavily in your chest.

"Tell me," Jeongguk utters, entering your personal space.

It takes you a few seconds to catch up to what he is saying; all you can focus on is his looming, beautiful presence.

"What, now?"

Jeongguk's head falls forward, and he laughs—shoulders gently bouncing. He shakes his head and looks back up at you, and god, he is devastating with his hair grown out in waves and his glasses slid down his nose. Absolutely breathtaking.

"Tell me how you feel," he urges softly, sitting up on his knees in front of you and lifting the joint to his lips.

Your eyes once again follow every movement, and all you can mutter is, "I feel...very high."

Jeongguk laughs again, puffing smoke into your face and making you grimace—not that you mind entirely; your brain is already so hazy, thanks, in part, to him. What harm will a little smoke do?

"How you feel about me," he says, leaning in just a little too close.

"Uh—I," you swallow, despite your throat feeling dreadfully dry. "I li—I like you. O-obviously."

The last word is barely a whisper, and you could swear Jeongguk's eyes sparkle when you say it. Every fight or flight instinct blares at full volume as Jeongguk leans and presses his palm into the headboard just beside your head. Tan, tattooed skin fills your periphery, and you turn slightly to glance at his arm beside you before returning your focus to him.

"Come here," Jeongguk says, lifting what is left of the joint to his lips and sucking in, then holding in the smoke as he pulls it away. He raises his eyebrows and gently grabs your arm to tug you forward, and you lean just enough for him to take your invitation and close the gap, pressing your lips together.

Your eyes widen, and your first instinct is to take a sharp inhale because, holy fuck, Jeongguk's mouth is against yours, and he feels so perfectly soft and inviting. Instead, you part your lips slowly, and as you do, Jeongguk exhales, passing the smoke from his mouth to yours in a dizzying exchange. You hold it in, then swallow it back, exhaling through your nose as Jeongguk smiles against you and begins to back up.

But you do not want Jeongguk to back up. You have felt his mouth on yours, and you need more than just a taste. Frantically, you reach up and grip onto his shirt, tugging him close.

With a soft, "Oing?" he falls forward, pliant.

Jeongguk smells musky and sweet, and you gently drag his lip between your teeth, tasting metal and smoke. With a sigh that sounds awfully close to a whimper, Jeongguk opens his mouth and drags his tongue over your lips and teeth, causing you to let out something between a moan and a sob, feeling Jeongguk smile as he deepens the kiss, willing your mouth further open.

There is a sweetness to Jeongguk's tongue hidden beneath the stinky taste of weed, and you lick into his mouth, chasing hints of him, gasping as he lets out faint noises. Despite all of this being very real—every sense filled with Jeongguk—you struggle to accept that this is actually happening. Finally, after all this time.

Jeongguk lifts his hand to touch you, grazing his fingertips over your cheek, and sending sparks through you. Then he pulls from the kiss, and swears under his breath, sighing with annoyance. You open your eyes to find him still cradling a dead joint between his fingers, which he drops onto the ashtray, only to begin wiping fallen ash off your comforter.

"Jeon," you grumble, despite hardly caring about the ash; you just like to give him a hard time.

"I'm sorry for my fault," Jeongguk mutters as he returns to your lips.

Your hand still clenches onto his shirt, and you chuckle into his kiss, keeping your face turned only enough to slot your noses side by side, slowly licking and sucking and savoring one another. Gradually, your brain and heart stop operating in panic mode, and you begin to notice the arousal that swirls through you—hot and eager for more.

To your dismay, Jeongguk breaks from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

"Is this alright?" he asks, and you open your eyes to find him appearing concerned.

"I like it," you respond, fuzzy and warm.

"You have no idea—well, actually you probably do have some idea how long I have wanted to do that."

You nod and hum, "Mmhmm."

"So..." Jeongguk trails off, playing with his lip ring between his teeth, sitting so close, everything appears blurred. "What, now?"

Your tummy does a backflip, and you cannot help but chuckle softly. What, now, indeed.

With a hum, you mutter, "We could keep kissing."

"We could..."

Jeongguk slots his lips against yours as he trails off, and you wonder if there is something more to his tone, so you hum—a question, or, perhaps, encouragement to continue.

Rather than elaborate, Jeongguk sucks your bottom lip gently between his teeth. Your mouth falls open as you gasp, and he deepens the kiss, wrapping an arm around your back while he cradles your cheek softly as you slide your hands to his neck, eager to keep him close. The back and forth of your tongues is an addicting dance, and you find yourself moaning and gasping a little louder, pulling him a little closer.

Jeongguk makes soft, inviting sounds of his own, and you fight the urge to claw at his clothing and beg him for more. You are certain that he must want it too—that this kiss must be affecting him the way it affects you—but you are unsure how to initiate more; what if this really is all he wants?

With a deep, needy groan, Jeongguk pulls from the kiss, and he appears timid when he sits back enough to look you in the eyes. Taking in the sight of him this close, with his pretty, dark curls framing his face—this close that you can count each mole and scar that graces his skin—you feel warmth rise to your cheeks. Jeongguk seems to be searching for something to say, then he drops his gaze.

"Hey," you mutter as you lean in and place a soft peck on the apple of his cheek. "Where did you go?"

Jeongguk softly laughs, tugging his lips into a smile.

"I just...I can't believe this is finally happening...I'm finally kissing you."

A smile creeps over your lips.

"Me too."

Jeongguk backs away further, and you stick your bottom lip out to pout. You are in the midst of a solid high, with everything feeling simultaneously too light and too heavy, and you want to keep making out with your super hot best friend.

"My legs are falling asleep," he complains as he crawls beside you and rotates, sitting against the headboard.

Beside you, his hand rests palm facing up, and you place your hand into his, slotting your fingers together. Holding Jeongguk's hand is nothing new, but now it feels different—now there is an electric current that buzzes lively between your palms.

"Way to ruin the vibe," you tease, giving him a gentle squeeze. "I was getting into it."

Jeongguk tugs on your hand, and you glance up, meeting his gaze.

"Come here, then."

And perhaps you should hesitate before swinging your leg over your best friend's thighs to straddle his lap. Perhaps this—whatever the fuck this is—that is happening between you deserves a conversation before it moves too much further. But you do not want to dwell on anything for too long. All you want to do is sink into this moment until you are too far below the surface to breathe, succumbing to the chaos and letting it swallow you whole.

You climb onto Jeongguk's lap, still holding onto his hand, and you settle down on his thighs, gently touching your fingertips to the underside of his chin and slotting his lips against yours. Jeongguk smiles and holds his mouth pliant for you to explore, then he wraps his arms around you, sliding one hand up to your neck as he deepens the kiss.

Making out with Jeongguk is a dream you never want to wake from. His scent is soft and welcoming and smells like home—hints of fresh cologne on top of the natural sweet musk that you have come to identify as him. And his voice is low and grumbly, with a pitchy lilt whenever you nip at his lip, and it stirs something deep inside you to pull more of those pretty sounds from his throat.

He feels incredible beneath you. Firm but soft, gentle but insistent in his touch—eager but not pushy or too rough. His lips are sweet, spit-slicked heaven, and the more you kiss and suck and nibble, the more enamored you become.

Jeongguk groans and mutters, "You feel so good," and it sparks something in you to lean into him, chest flush against his. He holds you tighter, gently squeezing the back of your neck, then he breaks from your lips to kiss your chin and trail down to your throat.

The new sensation sends arousal flooding through you, and you whimper as you somewhat mindlessly roll your hips. Jeongguk groans against your skin, his grip on you tightens, and if you are not mistaken, it feels like a tremble quakes through him.

“Easy, tiger,” Jeongguk warns as his hand squeezes the back of your neck.

You let out a playful, "Hmm?" before rolling yourself against him once more, and Jeongguk gasps as he slides his hands down to your hips, holding you firmly in place as he returns his mouth to yours.

"You're entering dangerous territory by doing that," he grumbles against you.

You draw lazy shapes with your tongues between each sentence, swallowing one another's words whole.

"Dangerous how?"

"You're grinding yourself against my dick," he whines through a helpless chuckle.

"I know."

You open your eyes to find his wide, and he grins, shaking his head in disbelief before his gaze darkens.

"You know, huh?"

Another hum—a deep, enticing, "Mmhmm"—as you attempt to roll your hips again, finding yourself stuck hovering over his crotch instead.

"Are you trying to get me hard?" he asks, tilting his head back so you can look at him fully.

Jeongguk already appears somewhat wrecked. With a hint of dew on his forehead, pink on his cheeks, and hair a little disheveled, he is so fucking pretty.

And maybe it is the weed talking—making you bold enough to say shit like this to your best friend in the whole entire world—but you ask, "And what if I am?" while holding brazen, unwavering eye contact.

Jeongguk stares at you for several quiet seconds with his pretty lips parted, eyes roving as if studying you. Then, in an eager motion, he whips his glasses off, tossing them to your bedside table in a clatter as he gently but firmly takes your face in both hands and kisses you like a man desperate to never breathe anything but the oxygen from your lungs.

You moan into Jeongguk's mouth and roll your hips, this time angling forward to graze denim against denim with purpose. Jeongguk whimpers into your mouth and slides one arm down, past your shoulder, to your hip, holding tight while he thrusts upward. You are unsure if you actually feel him—only really noticing rough fabric scrape over rough fabric—but the intensity of his kiss and eagerness of his hips have arousal coursing through you, steadily building.

"Are you sure?" Jeongguk groans into your lips, and you nod.

"I've wanted you for at least a million years; of course I am sure."

A soft chuckle flits from his mouth to yours.

"A million years? How many lives is that?"

Impatience courses through you—why is he so determined to be chatty now, of all times?

You grumble, "I don't know, Jeon, twelve or thirteen thousand, give or take?" and Jeongguk smiles against you.

“I guess I should hurry up and fuck you then, since you’ve waited so many lifetimes for it.”

The nonchalance of his statement sends a chill up your back. He must feel it, because he giggles and continues to suck and nip at your neck, pushing you to the brink of complete mental collapse.

"What is your problem?" you whine, lolling your head to the side to give him more access to you. "How can you just say that?"

"Do you not want me to fuck you?" Jeongguk asks between nips at your skin.

You shove at his chest, feeling petulant, grumbling, "I am going to fucking kill you."

With a chuckle, Jeongguk wraps his arms around your back, lifts you, and then lies you down against the mattress. It happens so fast, you gasp and throw your arms over your head as you fall gently against the soft comforter, and Jeongguk grins as he leans forward, hovering over you.

"Tell me what you want," he says with wide eyes—blown out and bloodshot.

"I w—I want you," you stammer, suddenly too shy to voice what has been on your mind for so many years.

Jeongguk leans close—so close his crotch grazes yours, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his thighs to keep him in place.

"Want me how?" he asks with a devilish grin.

"Fuck—" you mutter quietly before swallowing your nervousness, wrapping your arms around his neck, and saying, "Fuck me, Jeongguk."

Jeongguk's smile widens, and you could swear his eyes shimmer as he gazes down at you. He almost seems taken aback—unable to process that this is his reality. Not that you can blame him; you feel equally stunned.

"You sure?" he asks, gazing becoming so soft, affection blooms behind your ribs.

Feeling impatient, you smack Jeongguk softly on the shoulder with your fingertips. You are way too high to be repeating yourself, although you do appreciate his insistence on making sure you are comfortable.

But the pace at which he is dragging everything out has you practically begging, "Yes, god, please, Jeongguk."

The benefit of initiating a sexual encounter with your best friend in the entire world is that you are both aware of one another's health checks and sexual histories. You have bragged and complained to one another about every single sexual encounter over the years, and have sent selfies from every doctor's office visit.

But Jeongguk is Jeongguk, so, of course, he asks, "Still on the pill?" and he does not question it when you nod in response.

Jeongguk reaches for the back of his shirt and swiftly pulls it over his head. As he tosses it to the side, you feel your breath get caught in your throat. You have seen Jeongguk shirtless before—have swam with him countless times, and have gone along to all of his tattoo appointments. But watching him undress with the intent of being intimate with you feels different. Having front-row access to gawk openly at his beautifully sculpted muscles is new.

Gently, Jeongguk grabs at the hem of your shirt and tugs, and you comply, pulling it over your head with a weak lift of your torso before crashing back onto the comforter once it is off. You lay in a sheer, mesh black bra, and when you begin to anchor yourself onto your elbows to unclip the back, Jeongguk shakes his head, leaning forward as he mutters, "I like it. Keep it on."

Another benefit to initiating a sexual encounter with your best friend in the entire world is that you have shared some details about what you are into with one another, over the years. Nothing too graphic because you would always shy away from serious sexual conversation, worrying about becoming too obviously flustered by him. But you know that Jeongguk tends to like things to have a bit of a power-play dynamic. He has, on several occasions, bragged openly about his sexual prowess to male mutual friends while in your presence, discussing past partners in terms of submissiveness.

So, for that reason, you stretch your hands up, over your head. Nothing too wild, but a clear sign of surrender. Jeongguk follows the movement with his eyes, then slides down your body, hovering his lips over one of your clothed breasts.

"Keep your hands above your head," he sighs in command, ghosting warmth over your skin and giving you goosebumps.

You let out a shaky exhale in response and nod, placing one of your hands into the other and slightly gripping, determined to be good for him. Jeongguk nudges the tip of his nose against a nipple, causing you to gasp as the touch—faint as it is—sends a spark of arousal through you.

"I always knew your tits would be amazing," Jeongguk grumbles, dragging his lips over your sensitive bud.

If you were not trying to keep your hands firmly in place, you would have delivered another smack to his shoulder for being so unserious. You even gasp and begin to complain about Jeongguk's choice of words, but he flicks his tongue against your clothed nipple, and you sigh into the feeling, already distracted.

Jeongguk chuckles and mutters, "I'm surprised you didn't try to hit me," with his lips grazing the mesh over your skin, because of course he knows you too well.

You let out a soft laugh of your own.

"I wanted to, but you told me to keep my hands above my head."

"So good for me," Jeongguk responds deeply, sending a shiver through you. "I'm a little surprised."

"Hmm?" you ask, watching as Jeongguk glances up, making eye contact.

He smiles wide and shrugs, saying, "I expected you to be more of a brat."

The urge to smack strengthens, but you do your best to keep your hands firmly in place. Jeongguk is definitely not incorrect that you tend to be more of a brat in bed, but you were hoping to behave at least a little since this is something you have wanted for so long.

"Keep talking shit and I'll show you a brat," you respond as you watch Jeongguk gaze up once more with a dark, pointed stare.

"Is that so?" he asks as he crawls up your body, caging your head between his hands.

You tilt your chin upward and nod, giving him a cheeky grin.

"It is."

Jeongguk reaches down with one hand between your legs, which you let fall open the moment his knuckles brush against your thigh. With his fingertips, he grazes over the denim crotch of your pants, following the seam up to your zipper. It is so light you can barely feel it as he passes over your heat, but it is enough to make you whimper and plead with your eyes for more.

"I thought you wanted me to fuck you?" Jeongguk asks playfully as his head cocks to the side and pretty, dark waves fall past his face.

"I do."

"Hmm, but you're already misbehaving. So maybe I should just tease you a little and leave."

For a split second, you lift your hands from the bed with the intent of wrapping your arms around his neck, earning a raise of Jeongguk's eyebrows. Then you drop them back onto the comforter and squeeze your hands closed.

"Please, Jeongguk," you attempt, batting your eyelashes and smiling oh, so sweetly.

Jeongguk studies you, letting his wide eyes fall to your lips and back up, then he says, "I guess I could make you beg for it."

"You are so evil," you whine, voice breathy as Jeongguk leans down and nips at your chin, down your neck. "Please don't make me beg."

"Hmm, but you already are," Jeongguk teases as his lips, teeth, and tongue travel lower.

God, Jeongguk is as insufferable as he is irresistible, and you allow your eyes to flutter closed as his lips curve toward your breast, pinching and tugging at fabric, touching you so softly, you want to burst. His warm, moist breath fans over your skin, causing you to open your eyes, and you sigh heavily, watching as your chest rises and falls beneath his teasing.

You have fantasized about this moment many times before, imagining the heated way in which Jeongguk might take you—a little forcefully maybe, or even a bit clumsy—desperate, and eager in his movements. You have even allowed yourself to imagine overtaking him—holding him down until he is pliant and whimpering while you tease, grazing your fingertips against his prostate until he screams, using your toys while you ride him.

But this—slow and measured, light in touch and heavy in implication—never in a million years had anything quite like this crossed your mind.

Jeongguk flicks his tongue against your nipple, grazing the semi-rough mesh across the sensitive skin. A gasp puffs between your lips, then you let out a soft, enticing whimper, hoping for the sound to encourage him to do more than taunt you.

"Fuck, you sound so good," Jeongguk groans, lapping his tongue over you, wetting the material.

Satisfied with your successful encouragement, you let out a louder sound, trembling under his firm touch. Fighting the urge to reach for his hair and give it a light tug, or bunch it behind his head so you can better see his face, has you opening and clenching your fists uselessly above your head.

Jeongguk moves lower, nipping at the underside of your breast and making you whine. The pinching feeling of soft skin between blunt teeth barely hurts at all—hardly feels like much of anything—but it takes you by surprise, and you are jumpy enough for every little sensation to be just a bit too much.

As he settles between your legs, Jeongguk's butt hits the headboard of your bed with a thunk, causing him to laugh, which, in turn, makes you laugh.

"Scoot up," Jeongguk complains, and you begin to wiggle yourself toward the end of the bed, careful to keep your hands in place, over your head, committing fully to the good girl bit.

At the foot of your bed is a bench that sits several inches lower than the mattress, and you continue to scoot until your hands slide over the edge and rest on its cushioned top. You straighten out your legs, and Jeongguk settles onto his knees between them, then reaches to undo your jeans.

The realization hits you once more, and quite suddenly, that this is really happening. Your best friend—Jeon Jeongguk, babe extraordinaire and light of your absolute fucking life—is undressing you in broad daylight with the intent to see and to feel you.

A small wave of anxiety washes over you, and you close your eyes as he begins to wiggle your pants past your hips and yank them lower. The underwear you have on beneath is not terribly exciting—plain black, soft material, nothing too fancy. But they are cute, and you bite your lip as you smile, hoping he finds them cute, too.

A chuckle pulls you from your thoughts, and you crack open your eyes to find Jeongguk frozen with your jeans tugged half way past your thighs, while he is staring at your face.

"Why do you look so worried?"

With a sigh, you groan, "Stop always being so intuitive."

Jeongguk's smile drops, and he lets go of your pants.

"Is something wrong?"

He is too kind for his own good. Because, of course, he is; you are not head over heels for him without good reason.

"No," you insist, shaking your head. Above your head, you fiddle with some unknown, thin material between your fingers. "I'm just, you know...it's a lot, letting your best friend see you naked. I definitely want you to! But it still makes me nervous."

"Oh," Jeongguk says, sitting up on his knees while he begins to unbuckle his belt and yank it from its loops. "I don't think it's a lot."

"Well, of course you don't," you respond through a bit of a nervous grin as Jeongguk sets his black leather belt aside and undoes his pants. You mutter a little more softly, "You're fucking hot."

Jeongguk shrugs and pushes his jeans down past his thighs, then sits back on his butt and begins to wiggle out of them with his legs angled to the side, past your body.

"You are also fucking hot," he responds matter-of-factly.

You scoff.

"Yeah, but, compared to you—"

Before you can finish your sentence, you feel ridiculous for even beginning it, and you bite your tongue. With the way Jeongguk frowns at you as he tosses his pants aside, the point is driven home.

"Don't—" he begins, and you nod.

"I know."

"Then why—"

You feel impatient to continue what had been previously started, but you cannot deny Jeongguk's softness is very touching. You stretch your right leg out, feeling the denim awkwardly stretch around your thighs where Jeongguk left it, and use your foot to attempt to pull him close.

"I get self-conscious," you admit, smiling as Jeongguk gets back on his knees and crawls between your legs. "I can be a hot bitch and feel shy, okay? I contain multitudes. Now keep undressing me."

The familiar playful, shit-eating grin that tugs at Jeongguk's lips makes your heart pound, and he leans forward, continuing his task of tugging off your pants. You twist and squeeze bits of fabric between your fingers while he leans back against the headboard and lifts your legs straight into the air, and once the denim is pulled free from around your ankles, you let your legs settle with a nice, deep, fortifying breath.

Jeongguk stops your right leg from lowering and rests your ankle on his shoulder. He kisses and nips at the skin, tickling and taunting, with his eyes on you.

"Still nervous?" he asks.

And although your heart beats wildly behind your ribcage, you let out a shaky breath and mutter, "Only a little."

Jeongguk leans forward more, giving your leg a nice little stretch as it presses toward your body. His lips and teeth trail along the side of your knee, sending sparks shooting through you as he nibbles at the sensitive skin and inches closer.

You have hardly had a chance to comprehend the fact that Jeongguk is practically naked, sitting only in his tight, small briefs, and you let your gaze drink in everything before you. His body is muscular, with cute rolls of skin bunched as he slouches forward, slowly working his way to settle between your legs, and you cannot take your eyes off him.

And you wonder if perhaps he was so eager to get undressed when you said it made you nervous to be getting naked in front of your best friend as a way to ease your mind. Because that is the thing about Jeongguk, he is always looking for little ways to make you feel comfortable.

"Where did you go?" Jeongguk asks.

You blink and realize you have been staring at the top of his curly mop of hair while his mouth comes dangerously close to your pussy, and suddenly, you feel an overwhelming surge of arousal and anticipation on top of still being pretty fucking high.

"S-sorry," you mutter. "Drifted off thinking about you."

"But I'm right here," he pouts, giving you big, pretty doe eyes.

"You are," you respond through a heavy breath, acutely aware of the fact that he is right here, hovering between your thighs.

"Keep your eyes on me," Jeongguk commands softly. "Don't space out."

A hint of a chuckle rocks through you, though it is more of a nervous laugh than a humorous one. Despite hardly doing anything, he has you so worked up, and the fact that the high is causing the arousal to ebb and flow, dulling and becoming intense, has you feeling quite flustered.

Jeongguk lets out a deep, slow breath, wafting warmth between your legs. A small shiver works through you from the knowledge that he is so close; the number of years you have wanted him just like this are many, and the affection you feel for him is insurmountable. You hold eye contact as best as you can while Jeongguk sucks hard against your thigh, and the spark of ticklish pleasure-pain forces a huff of a small whimper to fall from your mouth while you do your best not to jerk your leg too much.

"Such a tease," you complain.

"You know what I want you to do, baby," Jeongguk responds, bringing the world to a screeching halt.

Baby. Oh, that definitely has a bigger effect on you than it should. This is bad for you.

"Please," you whine, because you do know what he wants you to do. He wants you to beg. "Please, Jeongguk."

"Please, what, baby?"

Your exhale is shattered around the edges, bursting heavily from your lungs.

"Please touch me."

"I am touching you."

"Jeongguk," you whimper in a last-ditch effort. Is he really going to make you say it?

Jeongguk simply raises his eyebrows. Of course he is going to make you say it. He is absolutely reveling in this moment—with sharp, intent eyes and his lips slightly parted, it is written all over his face.

Fuck it; you can do this. You can tell the person you love more than anything in the world precisely what you want. You will not die of embarrassment.

"Please touch my pussy, Jeongguk."

And god, it is so worth it to say those words when the result is Jeongguk's gaze simultaneously darkening and melting. He is holding it together rather well, but there are cracks in his foundation; you can tell that he wants to absolutely destroy you.

"That's my good girl," Jeongguk groans as he leans forward and nudges the tip of his nose over your clothed clit.

The pressure against you, mixed with his enticing words, playful voice, and all of the heavy, aching feelings you have—everything culminates and sends a wave of pleasure through you, melting you into the bed like hot wax. You squeeze your hands tightly, letting out a shattered whimper and angling your pelvis upward for more friction.

Jeongguk drags the tip of his nose and his lips over you, teasing your labia and clit through soft cotton. The movements are so faint and so agonizingly slow, and you fight the urge to be a brat and demand more. You also try your best not to beg. Yes, Jeongguk wants you to, but why should he get the satisfaction of knowing just how affected you are, so soon? Someone as competitive and confident as Jeongguk would only use it against you if you became a mess this easily.

But you are a mess. Jeongguk settles between your legs and blows warm air across your clothed cunt, and you sink further into bliss, letting out more sounds of approval and frustration. With a sigh, you cave in—you never truly had a passing chance at holding any sort of resolve.

"Please."

Jeongguk uses his nose to tease once more.

"Hmm?"

"Jeongguk," you groan.

"You smell nice," he mutters, wafting more warm air over you with a soft graze of his lips. "I bet you taste really sweet."

"Find out," you whine.

Jeongguk sits up, grabs your panties in both hands, and cocks an eyebrow with a devious smile as he has the audacity to ask, "Can I rip these?"

"Wh—no! These are my coziest pair!"

Sure, you could buy a whole pack of them at a bargain price, but this particular pair is the best of the best. Jeongguk must have lost his mind.

"But it would be fun," he whines, making you roll your eyes.

"Pull them over my hips like a civilized man."

Jeongguk grumbles, "No fun," and begins to tug the material over your hips. You lift and bend your legs, and he sits back, bumping into the headboard once more to give you room. Then he flings the garment off to the side and leans forward.

The look in Jeongguk's eye as your legs slowly drop and spread for him has warmth covering your chest, sneaking up your neck and cheeks. He looks intent and hungry, and he licks his lips.

"Look at you," he says, staring directly at your cunt as he settles on his elbows and gently uses his fingertips to spread your lips, making you squirm.

"You're so weird," you complain, antsy under his gaze.

Jeongguk ignores your groans and leans close, dragging his lips over your spread folds. With a soft flick of the tongue, he tastes you—sending a wave of pleasure coursing to your fingers and toes—then he closes his eyes and groans.

"Shit, you are sweet."

You wish more than anything that Jeongguk would stop talking. One more word of praise from his mouth, and you might actually go supernova and take the entire solar system with you. Luckily, Jeongguk seems eager to use his tongue for better tasks as he dives in for more, swirling and sucking over your clit in a pattern that makes you grip onto the edge of the mattress and let out a deep, pleased moan.

"Feels good," you whimper as arousal builds at a nearly embarrassing pace.

Everything about this situation is too much, and you let a shudder rock through you as your legs relax, spread further while your heels slide and dig across the blanket. Jeongguk also drops further and wraps his arms under your thighs, gripping your hips tightly.

Being held in place and devoured by Jeongguk feels too good to be true, and you tilt your head up to have a look at the mess of wavy dark brown hair between your thighs. Jeongguk groans as he licks and sucks, with brows knit ever so slightly, the way he does when he is savoring his food. The mere thought of Jeongguk savoring you sends you hurtling to new heights of bliss, and you squeeze your hands closed, gripping tightly to your wrist while the other hand holds onto the soft comforter.

Jeongguk glances up, meeting your eyes as he slowly licks a firm, slow stripe across your clit, causing your head to fall back into the bed with a moan that borders pornographic. You might be mortified by the sounds—by how quickly and easily Jeongguk has you unraveling for him—but the feeling is too good not to respond loudly in praise.

You climb close to orgasm—but not quite close enough. Your high still holds you in its clutches, and despite everything feeling intense and incredible, it is also a bit dull and hazed over.

"Ggukie," you whimper, smiling as Jeongguk growls in response. "Finger me, please."

One of Jeongguk's hands slides away from your hip, and you take in a deep, eager inhale. His fingertip teases your entrance, and when you glance between your legs, you find him slowly spinning his tongue over your sensitive bud while watching you with a smile.

"This what you want, baby?" Jeongguk asks as he presses forward, sliding his finger easily into your slick warmth.

"Fuck," you gasp.

It is what you want, albeit not yet quite enough. Still, the way he crooks his finger upward and drags it across your sweet spot has you clawing at the blanket beneath you—has your back arching slightly off the mattress.

Jeongguk pumps his finger in and out fast enough to have your hips trembling, and when he adds another, stretching you just enough to cause a hint of pain, your mouth falls open into a desperate moan. This is what you need.

"Yes," you whimper as Jeongguk's lips and tongue return to their eager ministrations and his fingers set a dizzying pace. "That's it, Ggukie; don't stop!"

With pleased groans, Jeongguk pulls you to the edge of mental collapse, and it takes absolutely no time at all to plummet into bliss. As you cum, your entire body quakes, and you attempt to keep your thighs from clamping shut, pushing your head into the mattress as your back lifts and your heels drag.

Jeongguk does not slow. The sensation borders overwhelming and too much, but you do your best to hold on and ride out this new type of high. At this pace, with the focused, steady rhythm of licking and sucking on your clit, you know that it will take no time at all to cum again, and you want it so badly.

Luckily, Jeongguk is on the same page.

"Once more, baby," he groans against you, and you squeeze your eyes closed as the high builds at breakneck speeds, never fully coming down from your first orgasm.

Rather than pressing in and out, Jeongguk changes his motion and thrusts his fingertips up into your erogenous zone. The sensation is engulfing—threatening to eat you alive—and you practically scream as the pressure sends you shooting into a new dimension of bliss.

"Fuck," you sob between moans, feeling as if you might absolutely burst. "Fuck, fuck, oh god."

This time, as you cum, you can hear Jeongguk's fingers squelch—loud and wet—punctuating each upward thrust as you sob and tremble against the bed.

"That's it, baby, coat my fingers," Jeongguk praises, leaving featherlight kisses against your clit and labia as he continues to finger you.

"What the fuck," you pant, feeling dizzy and overstimulated. Your body is covered in a sheen of sweat and goosebumps, cold yet burning hot, and you struggle to reconcile all the myriad feelings.

"Didn't know you could do that?" Jeongguk asks, still fingering you to oblivion as his lips, teeth, and tongue move to your inner thigh—tickling and making you squirm.

"Do what?"

"You soaked me. Can't you feel it? It was like...a baby squirt."

"A baby squirt?" you pant in disbelief.

Jeongguk takes a firm bite into your thigh, making you nearly kick him in the ribs, then he chuckles as his lips return to hover over your pussy.

"What's the matter, baby squirt?"

Petulance rises—nearly overtakes the steady flood of pleasure—and you open your mouth to warn Jeongguk to never call you that again, but all you can manage to say is, "Don't you fucking da—ahhhh—" as his tongue laps over you as hungrily as before.

You have no idea where one high ends and the next begins, and you fight the urge to grab him by the hair and pull him away, feeling so completely swallowed whole by overstimulation that you nearly scream. How the fuck is he capable of making you feel this way, this easily?

"It's too much," you whimper, heaving each breath from your lungs as you tremble from head to toe.

"You sure you can't cum once more for me?" Jeongguk whines, gazing at you with wide, pretty eyes.

You want to say yes—want to give him absolutely anything in this world that he may wish for—but you are far too sensitive, and you bite your bottom lip as you sheepishly shake your head no.

"Awe, does baby squirt need a break?"

Despite being too fucked out to fight with your best friend who just made you cum at least twice—though you are unsure what you were experiencing toward the end—you sit up and land an open-palmed smack across his chest. Jeongguk grabs you by the wrist and yanks, falling back against your headboard with a wide, satisfied smile and sparkling eyes, and you allow yourself to be pulled onto your knees before toppling forward against his warm body, straddling his thighs.

"Don't call me that," you pout, feeling your own release drip from you, proving the nickname to be truer than you would like to admit.

"It's fucking hot that I can make you so wet," Jeongguk groans as his hands find your jaw and gently pull you into a kiss.

Is this what the two of you are, now? Best friends who kiss? Unabashedly and without preamble or explanation? You love being able to nibble on his bottom lip and fondle his metal jewelry between your teeth, pulling out all the sweet little sounds that you never imagined would come from him. Never like this.

"It felt good," you groan when Jeongguk's lips move to your jaw and neck. "It felt really fucking good."

"Yeah?" Jeongguk responds, sucking his lips against your neck until you attempt to wiggle out of his grasp.

Jeongguk pulls you close and kisses lower, to your shoulder. This time, when he latches on, finding a far less sensitive spot, you allow it.

"Yeah," you respond as your eyes lose focus on the brown wood of the headboard. "Fuck, I knew you'd be good, but that was..."

Your words die in your throat as Jeongguk's hands grab you by the ass and pull you onto his lap. Beneath you, a very firm erection sits nestled between your thighs, and you roll your hips downward to tease. Despite the way Jeongguk made you feel with his mouth and fingers, you are far from satiated. The moment you get your bearings, you need more.

The whimper Jeongguk lets out makes you groan, and you take him by the face and pull him into a deep, needy kiss, detecting your own heady release on his tongue. Jeongguk relaxes, loosening his grip and holding his mouth agape for you to taste as you please.

"I need to fuck you," he whines against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Is that so?" you respond before sucking his lip between your teeth, tasting a hint of metal.

"Been wanting you for so fucking long. You have no idea."

You smile as you say, "I'm the one who waited thousands of lifetimes, remember?"

Jeongguk squeezes your ass with both hands while rutting his hips up enough to tempt you with his erection.

"Lay back down," he groans, and you shake your head, reveling in how quickly his pretty lips tug into a frown.

"Not so fast," you purr as you begin to slide back, out of Jeongguk's eager grasp, leaving wet, lazy kisses on his jaw, neck, and clavicle. "It's my turn to taste you."

Jeongguk's hands fall to his sides, and as you begin to wedge your knees between his, he spreads his legs, giving you space to settle. Your lips skim over his nipple, pulling sweet gasps and sighs from his mouth, and the lower you kiss, past his abdomen, to one of his hips, his breath comes out in harsh gusts.

Just knowing that you affect him like this makes you all the more eager to completely unravel him, and you waste no more time, slipping your fingertips beneath the waistband of his briefs while fanning warm breath over his clothed cock. You tug the material gently down and drag your lips over him, teasing him just a little as he had teased you before. And when your lips touch something small and hard, you freeze and lift your head.

"Jeongguk..." you begin, surveying his bulge, which has many small, hard, circular bulges along its length. "...what is this?"

"I never told you about those?" Jeongguk asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.

In all your years of friendship, you were positive that Jeongguk—your Jeon Jeongguk—has never kept anything from you. And yet, here you are, staring straight at a very big secret. When the fuck did your best friend get his dick pierced?

"N-no," you stammer as you pull the band of Jeongguk's briefs down, exposing quite the surprise, indeed.

Not only does Jeongguk have an impressive cock—long and thick with precum beading at its pretty, reddened-brown tip—but you gently pull back his foreskin to reveal a row of four barbells along his shaft, as evidenced by the eight little metal balls that hold them in place.

"Wh—when did you—"

"Surprised?"

A scoff rocks through your chest, and you look up at your best friend. The bewilderment must be evident, and he chuckles as he gently rubs his knuckles over your cheek.

"Felt like a weird thing to tell you when I did it," he confesses with a soft smile.

You feel affronted, and your mouth falls open.

"Why?"

Jeongguk shrugs.

"I was dating someone at the time, so bringing up my dick felt...weird. Especially since I got these because you..."

As Jeongguk trails off, his cheeks flush, and you watch as his life flashes before his eyes.

"Because what? I what?" you ask, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks, certain that you know where this is going.

You are into this sort of thing. Jeongguk had to listen to you drunkenly rant far too many times about the ex who did you wrong but had a dick piercing that was hard to part ways with. The thought of Jeongguk taking that information and getting his own piercings...and multiple, at that...that does things to you.

"Jeon Jeongguk," you groan with a smile, focusing your attention back to his very hard, pierced cock, which rests neglected and leaking against his tummy. "You are full of surprises."

Before Jeongguk can respond, you lean in close and lick a firm path from the band of his briefs, along his shaft, teasing the jewelry with your tongue before lapping at the precum that has spilled over onto his tip. Jeongguk lets out the softest, neediest moan, causing you to involuntarily clench every muscle between your legs.

"Damn, Ggukie, you sound so pretty," you praise before sucking the head of his cock between your lips, feeling the muscles of his thighs tense beneath you.

Just a taste of his salty release on your tongue spurs you to take him as far into your mouth as you can, and you lay your tongue flat, snaking it side to side when you finally settle with his tip buried close to your throat, nearly cutting off your oxygen. Jeongguk moans and trembles as you drag your tongue over velvety skin and metal. Absolute perfection.

You waste no time and set a steady pace, sucking your cheeks in once he is deep in your mouth, and swirling your tongue along his shaft as you pull out. Jeongguk moans incoherently, letting consonants and vowels fall at random as he grips gently to the side of your head, clearly doing his best not to rut his hips too hard or touch you too firmly.

And perhaps now, with your best friend's cock between your lips, is a strange time to think about how fun it is to learn this side of Jeongguk and wonder just what the dynamics between you two could be—what whatever this fuck this is could blossom into. But the idea that the two of you have crossed this line, and that he is so good at making you cum, has affection bursting and blooming behind your ribs, and arousal pooling deep in your guts. You are also still pretty fucking high, which is no wonder that your mind keeps wandering.

Realization hits—your gag reflex is dulled when you smoke—and you open your mouth just a little bit wider and take Jeongguk's thick, pierced length a little bit deeper. This time, Jeongguk's grip ends up tugging some of your hair, which only spurs you to keep his cock firmly in your throat, pressed deep until you have no choice but to come up for air.

"Fuck," Jeongguk groans, "baby this is—"

Needing to breathe, you concede to lifting your head, holding your tongue out flat as thick strings of drool connect your lips to his tip.

"Huh?" you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes, watching as the last remaining thread of Jeongguk's sanity slips away.

"Can I fuck your mouth?" he asks, kiss-swollen lips agape and eyes eager-wide.

"Sure," you reply with a shrug as if it is nothing, holding your mouth open as Jeongguk settles high onto his knees and positions himself. "Just don't hold my head too tight...in case I need to breathe."

Frantically, Jeongguk nods as he slides his hand to the back of your head, pulling you close. "Of course, yeah," he mutters, already adorably fucked out and blushing before he has had a chance to cum.

You rest your palms flat on the bed, back arched and breasts spilling from the small mesh bralette as one strap slides past your shoulder. Jeongguk places a hand under your chin and cups your cheek with the other—almost comically gentle considering he plans to fuck your mouth.

With your tongue hung flat and wide, pooling drool at the tip, you stare up through your eyelashes. Jeongguk has a look on his face that screams affection—warm and wanting. Desire drips from your pores as saliva dribbles to your chin, and when Jeongguk lifts his thick, heavy cock to set gently on your tongue, your fingertips dig into the comforter beside your knees.

"You look amazing," Jeongguk groans as he slowly thrusts forward, pressing in, in, in, dragging metal over your tongue. His jaw trembles as the tip slides into your throat, and you swallow around him, pleased with the lack of gag reflex, if only for the sweet satisfaction of watching him crumble above you. "Shit, baby, you look so fucking good."

Jeongguk holds himself in place and stares down at you with a reverence that makes warmth flood to your cheeks. He pulls back slowly, groaning as his eyes intently watch the movement, then thrusts forward a little harder, gasping as his cock tickles the soft skin in the back of your throat, and whimpering when you swallow around him.

"Tap me or something if you need me to stop," he mutters, already sounding completely lost.

You attempt to nod and flutter your eyelashes, which are already beginning to bead with tiny tears. Jeongguk curses under his breath, pulls out, then thrusts back in. His piercings are surprisingly pleasant as they slide—big enough to be noticeable but not enough to snag, though you keep your bottom teeth guarded, just in case.

The hold on your face and chin become firmer but never rough, and Jeongguk works up to a steady pace, always pushing just far enough to pull lewd sounds from your throat—coating himself in thick saliva—but never so far that it causes discomfort.

Watching Jeongguk's abs flex and bead with sweat as he ruts and swears and gasps causes arousal to pool between your legs and flood your system. You want him to pin you down and fuck this delicious, pierced cock into your cunt until you are cross-eyed and speaking in tongues.

Thankfully, his composure already seems to be crumbling. The grips of his fingertips are alternating too firm and slipping away, and his hips are losing their rhythm. To help him along, you attempt to tighten your throat, and you moan with each thrust, sending your praises vibrating over him.

Jeongguk's head lolls back and to the side, then he fixes you with a desperate stare. Panting and sweating, with reddened cheeks and a crazed look in his eyes, he gives a frantic, affirming nod and groans, "So fucking close, baby. Can I cum in your mouth?"

You attempt to nod and mutter something that somewhat resembles, "Uh-huh," and Jeongguk's lips break into a pretty smile as he tightens his hold on you and ruts his hips forward a little harder.

"Fuck," Jeongguk moans, dropping his head back. His voice sounds like heaven, and you moan in response, eager to hear more.

Although his movements are too rushed, too out of rhythm, and even slightly too rough, you hold your mouth open and stare up, attempting to let oxygen through your nose while your fingertips dig into the comforter.

Jeongguk moans as his length twitches and pulsates in your mouth, whimpering your name like a prayer and pulling out just enough to cover your tongue in his release and lend you some airflow. And for the first time, you nearly gag. The first spurt of the viscous fluid hits the back of your throat and trickles thickly down, and you fight the urge to cough, doing your best to swallow around it. When he finally pulls out and sits back, you breathe in through your nose but hold your tongue flat to show him the mess he has made, all for you.

"Fuck, you are perfect," Jeongguk groans while placing two fingers against your cum-covered tongue.

Jeongguk gazing at you as if you are a treasure to behold with tear-streaked cheeks and a drool-covered chin, juxtaposed with his fingers playing with the mess on your tongue, sends a flurry of emotions through you. And despite how soft he is with you, this entire scene feels somewhat humiliating. The grin breaking on Jeongguk's face suggests that he knows what you may be thinking, confirmed by him pulling your jaw open just a little wider and spitting into your mouth.

A gasp works its way through your chest, and you stare at your best friend with wide eyes. He has the temerity to chuckle.

"Swallow my load like a good girl," he coos sweetly as he removes his fingers from your mouth and sucks them between his own lips.

This entire scenario is so debauched it makes you feel dizzy, and you close your mouth and swallow the mess on your tongue, feeling trapped somewhat in slow-motion.

As your high begins to dissipate enough to lift what fog had been draped heavily over your mind, you feel a new sense of eagerness take its place. The attitude of, I need to have him in any way I can is slowly melting into something akin to, I need to make him a whimpering mess of a man.

"Sit back," you command, getting high on your knees and reaching to gently shove Jeongguk toward the headboard.

He chuckles and fumbles onto his butt, then slowly inches back until he has nowhere left to go. You crawl forward, straddling his legs with your hands and knees, one breast hanging from the mesh bra, then settle onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and slotting fingers into his pretty, wavy hair.

"I'm not hard yet, baby," Jeongguk whines, as if you couldn't tell.

With a devious smile, you lift your hips until his soft cock is situated just below your pussy, and you slowly rub yourself over his pierced length.

"I know," you groan, nipping at his bottom lip. "I'll make you hard."

Jeongguk sighs into your mouth, then pulls you close—splayed hands gripping at your back, desperate, as if you might disappear.

"I got you, Ggukie," you mutter against his lips, warm breath hitting your smile in a soft sigh, "I'm right here."

Kissing Jeongguk with remnants of his and your cum on your tongues feels like savoring the aftermath of a hurricane. And with storm clouds looming overhead, threatening to flood you completely, you can only accept your fate and gladly welcome what is to come; the two of you are far from finished with one another.

Slowly, Jeongguk becomes erect beneath you, and you make your soft, gentle movements a bit more measured and forceful. Jeongguk whimpers into your mouth, tangles his tongue against yours much more eagerly than before, and you swallow each little sound whole, licking and sucking against his tongue and lips until he is dropping his head back, out of breath.

"I can't wait to fuck you," Jeongguk groans as you trail your lips to his neck and suck faint, dark pink marks into his skin.

"Not until I get to fuck you first," you respond—a promise and a threat.

Jeongguk groans as he asks, "Oh, yeah?" and you chuckle as you say, "Yes."

"Alright," Jeongguk concedes, gently rubbing his hands down your sides before his touch disappears entirely. "I'm all yours, baby."

Curiously, you trail your palms down the length of his arms, finding them both wedged behind his back. With a grin, you rock your hips against him a little harder, feeling his cock part your pussy lips and cover itself in your wetness.

"If you're a good boy, I'll let you fuck me however you want."

All Jeongguk can say in response is a deep, needy groan. You roll your hips back slowly, dragging yourself over his hardening length, then reach with one hand between your legs while anchoring with the other on his shoulder. Jeongguk shudders as you gently grip the head of his cock and angle him upwards enough to find your entrance.

Although you have done absolutely nothing, each breath heaves from your lungs, and you hover a moment gazing at Jeongguk—sweat-slicked and blush-pink, staring back at you so sweetly.

"Ready?" you ask in a hushed tone, feeling your dominance slip away briefly.

Jeongguk nods, gives a soft smile, and groans, "Please fuck me," and you lower yourself, giving in to his request.

The stretch of Jeongguk's pierced cock is just painful enough that your back bows, and you shiver through the stretch. Moans fall from both your lips as you take him, stopping only when you are fully seated in his lap with him buried deep inside you.

"So fucking tight," Jeongguk groans at the same time you whine, "Fuck, you're so big," and you chuckle in tandem, leaning forward enough to rest your foreheads against one another.

Without allowing either of you to adjust or catch your breath, you lift your hips and drop them down, spearing yourself on his thick, delicious length. Your voice is pitchy and broken, moans practically tumbling out as screams as you set a pace that is dizzying and rough.

Jeongguk's head falls against the headboard with a loud thunk, and you take the opportunity to wrap one hand around his throat while gripping his shoulder tightly in the other. With a gentle squeeze, Jeongguk's eyes widen before rolling back, and you slide your fingers up to hook into his mouth and force him to look at you.

"Louder," you moan through pitchy sounds of your own. "I want to hear you."

Perhaps it should come as no surprise that Jeongguk is so obedient; you have always wondered if there is a submissive side to him, as well. He lets you tug on his jaw and begins to moan deep, pretty sounds, and it sends a flurry of arousal through you—determination to push him to give you more.

"Your pussy feels so fucking good," Jeongguk groans, slightly slurred around your fingers.

Eager to cum, you grind yourself down, pressing the tip of his cock right where you need him. The hand you have anchored on his shoulder drops between your legs, and you dance your fingers in circles over your clit, pushing yourself over the edge.

With a desperate moan, Jeongguk's head nearly falls back once more, and you hold him firmly in place, feeling drool slide from his mouth to your palm and wrist. You continue to grind and roll your hips, feeling yourself teetering just on the edge of collapse, rutting roughly against him.

"Such a good boy," you praise teasingly through gasps and moans. "Letting me use your cock to get myself off."

Jeongguk appears to begin saying something—wrapping his lips around consonants as well as your fingertips—but all he can manage is a broken, "Mmmnaaahh—" incoherent and useless, and pretty enough to inch you closer to the precipice of pleasure.

"That's it," you groan, slamming your hips up and down as you chase your high, "fuck, I'm gonna cum."

Pleasure grips you, white-hot and intense, and you quake as you ride him, struggling to force your legs to continue moving. The sight, sound, and feeling of Jeongguk have you absolutely reeling, and everything settles in your chest and gut, heavy and big and ready to explode.

"Fucking squeezing me, shit, so tight, baby," he groans as your fingers slip from his mouth and fall to the side.

Your hips still as your pussy continues to flutter and squeeze through orgasm, and you lose your strength, crashing forward against his shoulder. Jeongguk wraps his arms around yours, pinning them to your sides, then adjusts his legs and begins thrusting upward, hard and fast, making your head spin.

A cacophony of moans punctuated by screams fall from your mouth as you are pushed past overstimulation and quickly chasing a new high. Jeongguk lifts you and leans forward, attempting to place you on your back, though you scramble and more or less fall, spreading yourself wide while he shimmies onto his knees and takes his place between your legs, pressing warm palms gently against your thighs.

"Good?" Jeongguk asks—too big yet too small of a question for you to fully comprehend, so all you do is blink up and nod your head. He chuckles. "Do you need a break?"

"No," you croak, shaking your head almost frantically. "Fuck me, Jeon. Need you."

With a deep, eager groan, Jeongguk leans forward and fills you in one swift motion, thrusting while adjusting on his knees, tugging and lifting at your legs until one is draped over his shoulder and the other is wrapped around his hip. Jeongguk leans forward and brushes his fingertips over the apple of your cheek, gazing soft and reverent; so gentle compared to the brutal pace at which he fucks you, making your head absolutely spin.

"You feel so good," Jeongguk whimpers sweetly, squeezing his eyes closed before widening them, gaze fixed down on you. "So fucking good."

Words fail you, but you make an attempt, huffing a string of vowels, with some consonants mixed in, stuttering around, "Good," and, "Big," and attempts at his name. You bury your face in his soft, warm hand, huffing warmth into his palm while your eyes flutter closed and you sink into pleasure.

Fingertips graze over your clit, tentative at first, then direct. Your back arches and you gasp as arousal breaks and bursts throughout, coursing through your blood, filling every inch of you. Still not fully down from your last high, overstimulation vibrates through you, but you do your best to take it; you want him to make a mess of you.

When Jeongguk pulls out, it takes you by surprise, and you open your eyes wide, jutting your lip out in a pout. Jeongguk chuckles and begins to scoot toward the edge of your bed, standing and yanking on your ankle to reposition.

"Your bed is the perfect height," he says as you scoot and rotate, spreading your legs for him once more.

Your hips hang off the very edge at a slight downward angle, spearing you on his length, and you squeal as he thrusts straight up into your sweet spot. The pace Jeongguk sets is merciless and intoxicating, and you claw at the edge of the bed as your eyes flit between Jeongguk's sweaty, ripped body, his pretty, fucked out face, and your off-white ceiling.

Every vein and ripple and piece of metal drags along your walls, spilling nonsense from between your lips. You grasp at the comforter, attempting to hold on, feeling as if you could turn to goo and sink to the floor if you are not careful, but the material slides uselessly between your fingers.

A strong pressure builds, threatening to burst, which you recognize as the feeling you had before the baby squirt. Every inch of your sweat-slicked skin burns red hot, your eyes roll back, and you begin to heave through heavy lungs.

"Gonna—" you gasp, voice raspy and broken. "Fuck, Jeongguk, I'm—"

"That's it, baby, let me feel you cum," Jeongguk commands, leaning forward and driving his cock impossibly deeper. Sweat drips from his forehead to your tummy, tickling as it falls along your side, and you shudder, feeling all the more overwhelmed by the faintest sensation.

Although you do not need the encouragement, you place a hand between your legs and slowly drag your fingertips over your clit, up and down, pulling the intense wave of pleasure through you. You squirm and squeal, mouth held open in a silent scream, and Jeongguk's hips tremble and quake before he pulls out and drops to his knees, burying his face between your thighs and pulling the last of your orgasm with his lips and tongue.

Your legs fall without him there to hold them up—they may as well have turned to overcooked noodles. Jeongguk grips your ass, attempting to keep you from slipping off the mattress, but you are at too odd of an angle to do anything but crumple to the floor.

With a chuckle huffed between his lips as he stops you in time for your feet to hit the floor, Jeongguk firmly presses your hips into the side of the mattress as he stands, lips and chin slick with your release. You chuckle and wrap your arms around his neck, and he wipes the back of his hand over his mouth before leaning for a kiss.

"I almost came," he confesses against your smiling lips.

"Figured," you tease, nipping at his little metal ring.

"Not done with you, yet," Jeongguk mutters, licking and sucking at your mouth in a way that is far too comical, making you push against his firm, sweaty chest.

"How do you have so much energy?" you groan, although you have no desire to stop. His silly nature is whiplash, however, and you feel shy standing in the nude beside your bed, still coming down from your last orgasm.

Jeongguk's smile softens, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The sweat on your skin is beginning to turn cold, and you shiver in his hold, hugging him tighter.

"I could fuck you all day and night, baby," Jeongguk mutters.

He absolutely could not, but the thought brings goosebumps to your skin, especially with his voice dropped so low. You like that he wants to fuck you endlessly—that he feels for you the way you feel for him.

You hum against his neck, tasting salt on your lips, and mutter, "Do it, then," as you nip at his skin.

Jeongguk groans, lolling his head back for you to drag your lips and teeth over him. Then he grabs you by the hips and lifts you back onto the bed, using enough force that you actually bounce, gasping as you anchor yourself onto your elbows and instinctively open your legs.

"Want you on your knees," Jeongguk commands as he prowls forward, caging your hips with his muscular arms.

You scurry backward, then twist somewhat haphazardly, limbs still noodle soft, though you have gained a bit of your energy. The mattress dips behind you as you get onto your hands and knees. You hear a groan as two palms spread you, and as his tongue laves over your sensitive cunt, and your arms begin to tremble while a choked sob falls from your lips.

"Can I eat your ass?" Jeongguk asks as his thumbs gently brush the skin around your rim.

"Yes," you mutter, desperate to feel his tongue everywhere, "please."

Jeongguk squeezes at your soft flesh as his tongue dances over your puckered hole, and you tremble forward, falling onto your elbows with your face buried into the comforter, adjusting to a new, incredible sensation. He devours you, gently pressing his tongue into your hole and groaning as he licks and slurps and drools.

His mouth leaves you, then his hands, and you attempt to anchor yourself higher onto your hands once more, but the press of his cock entering your cunt from behind makes you quake, and you collapse forward, face turned with your cheek squished into the comforter. Try as you might to get your bearings, all you can do is scramble as Jeongguk rubs one palm along your back while he begins to fuck you fast and deep.

Cold saliva hits your ass as you hear the unmistakable sound of Jeongguk spitting, and you gasp, arching your back as the liquid slides over your rim, teasing you with the faintest touch. Then the press of a fingertip breaching your hole makes you squeal, and you grip tightly to the blanket, overwhelmed in the best way.

"Is this okay?" Jeongguk asks, and you nod frantically, desperate.

"Yes, please."

More spit dribbles down, sinking you further forward, and Jeongguk slowly prods his finger into you, twisting at the same tempo his cock pounds into your cunt. With one hand, you reach between your legs and graze your fingertips over your clit, and the wave that crashes over you is sudden, causing you to nearly scream.

"Fuck," Jeongguk groans, undoubtedly feeling you squeezing around him as you plummet toward total physical collapse.

Jeongguk breaches your hole deep, probably past the knuckle, stinging so perfectly. You sob through it, hot and thick, drowning in lava. His piercings drag over your sweet spot, and you feel pressure build much like it had before, only more intense and dizzying.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, suddenly rushing and snapping through you like a wire pulled tautly. Your hand drops from your clit, and you scratch blunt fingernails against the bed as your high continues to build and rush, build and rush, gushing from you in waves.

Jeongguk's finger slides from your ass, then he uses both hands to grab you by the arms and lift you, sitting you high on your knees. From this angle, his piercings drag deeper and harder, grazing along your walls and blinding you with more pleasure, squelching from how wet he makes you.

"That's it, baby squirt," Jeongguk has the audacity to say at a time like this, "don't hold back. Fucking cover me in it."

And you would find the nickname a lot more annoying if you were not gushing cum around his cock, splashing your inner thighs and undoubtedly, the bed. Your mouth hangs agape, but you only manage to squeak and sob, tears filling your vision and clouding the room, which is covered in a thick, blissful haze.

Jeongguk's hips quake, losing their rhythm, and he grips tighter, pulling you until your back is pressed against his chest, head gently hitting his shoulder with each thrust.

"Gonna fill that tight, messy cunt," Jeongguk growls into your ear, covering you in goosebumps. "Gonna make you all mine. Is that what you want? To be mine?"

Reeling and struggling to move your lips, you manage to stammer a weak, "Please," that is broken around the edges.

"Good girl," Jeongguk praises, teeth dragging across your shoulder. "So good for me."

Jeongguk thrusts hard, knocking the wind from you as you jolt forward, thankful to be held in his tight grasp. When his hips still, the sweetest, pitchiest sob falls from his lips, which clamp onto your shoulder, sucking and whimpering against your skin as he empties himself into you.

The room spins, and you feel yourself slipping forward, helped down by strong, warm arms until you are lying against the soft refuge of your bed, drifting slowly away. Lips gently press into your shoulder, and you attempt to turn and face him, but Jeongguk is still buried deep inside you, and he wraps his leg over yours, pulling your back flush with his chest, holding you close.

"Wow," you gasp, unable to stop the soft chuckle that works through your body as the room begins to return to focus and the sheen of sweat covering you turns cold.

"Yeah," Jeongguk responds, lips dragging over your skin, lazily pressing affectionately along their quest.

"So...that just happened," you find yourself blurting, suddenly feeling shy, shivering in his grasp.

Jeongguk's limbs wrap tighter as he buries his face into your neck, muttering, "Yes, it did."

And now that you have fucked your best friend and poured every ounce of yourself into the task, you are acutely aware of the fact there is no turning back. Whatever line the two of you have crossed, you are stuck on this side of it for good.

Jeongguk clears his throat, huffing what you think may be a quiet laugh against your shoulder before dragging his lips over your skin, making you shudder.

"So, uh..." he begins, dancing his fingertips delicately over your hip as his soft cock slips from your cunt, bringing with it a combination of both your fluids, "...what, now?"

i know i mentioned glasses jk but there weren't photos that fit the color scheme for the banner, so here's a reminder.....bc even in potato quality he is still 🔥🥵😩

thank you for reading!

i do have a part 2 in the works but it may be a little bit before i get to it. let me know what you think! feedback and reblogs are the lifeblood of this hellsite. and likes are nice, too! 🥰

tags: @beautifulcloudfestival @btsiguess-kpop @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @giriiboyy @jihopesjoint @mgthecat @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @pamzn @spookyminyunki @thelilbutifulthings @yoongiofmine ☁ want to be tagged in the things i write? dm me!

#thank you for taking your time and writing this #can't wait to get through everything you've done #jjk:fic #jjk:smut #jjk:explicit #jjk:f2l #jjk:pwp #jjk:fluff #jjk:oneshot #luareads

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