#someone get me out of school please :3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ja3yun · 1 month

Text

To, Future You | S.JY

sim jaeyun x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, spitting, body worshipping, whimpering and whiney jake, mutual pining, confessions, mentions of alcohol, anti-men in some parts, not proof-read anything else lmk! wc: 16.1k synopsis: in your fourth year of secondary school, your home room teacher made you write a 'to future you' letter to someone in your class. while you had no idea who to write it to, sim jaeyun knew exactly who would receive his letter. he just never expected it to actually come through 10 years later. a/n: hi! so this was something that has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while. i saw a tiktok that was someone writing a confession letter and ten years later receiving it so that is the inspo (pls if anyone knows it please send me the link so i can tag it!) i hope you enjoy this, after i post this i am taking a little break and stepping back so i can focus on my heeseung series! there might be some random fics here and there but i wont be posting as much (sorry!) as always, feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments are all welcome <3 ilysm

Your phone vibrates on your cluttered office desk, a blessed interruption from the mundane chore of sifting through emails. With a sigh, you pick it up, expecting yet another spam message or discount offer. However, as you enter your pin and swipe down the notification, your curiosity piques, and your posture straightens instinctively, uncrossing your legs and firmly planting both feet on the ground.

The screen displays the sender as 'To Future You'. Memories flood back from a decade ago when your teacher, Mr. Yang, initiated a unique project in your fourth year of secondary school. Instead of the typical 'what I think will happen in 10 years' pitch, Mr. Yang offered a more intriguing idea that got the students on board.

Your class was tasked with writing letters to someone else in the class, detailing how you perceived them then and what you believed they would become in the future. Mr. Yang's intention was to leave everyone with a lasting memory, knowing that some would stay for fifth and sixth years, while others would move on to college or the workforce.

He didn’t pair you all up, leaving you to your own devices; it could be a friend or someone random, the only stipulation being that it was someone from your home room.

Honestly, you hadn’t given it much thought at the time, sending one to the girl next to you with hopes that her dreams would come true. All your friends were in different classes, so you couldn’t even enthusiastically engage with the exercise.

However, you never expected to get one yourself. Your home room was filled with the popular girls and guys who were a world away from you and your quiet life. While they were out partying and having fun, you were studying to get into University, promising yourself a life of fun after you had graduated with friends you made along the way.

Of course, that’s not how it worked and you found yourself in a job you hated with bosses who make sly remarks about you and your competency even though you are much better at your job than any of these middle-aged losers. What’s that song from Bowling For Soup? High School Never ends, and by fuck were they right.

So as you stare at the unread email, you brace yourself for the torment from school to haunt you now as a 26-year-old. There was one girl from class who hated you, convinced that you ratted her out for smoking in the girls’ bathroom, which by the way, you had no part in; perhaps this letter is cursing you out wrongfully one final time.

Yet, the letter is not anything of the sort, leaving your palms sweaty at the unexpected turn.

Hi, Y/N.

How are you doing? From the looks of it, you’re struggling with what to write. Me too if I am being honest. This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I feel so strange writing these words when you're just a few seats away.

Anyway, hi again!

I don't know why I'm pouring my thoughts out to you of all people, but…I trust you. You’re genuinely nice and kind to everyone, even when others aren't :( sorry about that, by the way, for my friends. They can be real pissheads, and I personally hope they live unfulfilling lives. Once I leave next month, I pray I never have to see them ever again.

Is that too harsh?

Sorry, I should get back on track. You look super pretty today! I noticed you got a new bracelet. Was it for your birthday? Come to think of it, your birthday must have just passed if you're receiving this 10 years later, so happy 26th birthday, I guess! It’s so strange to imagine you as a 26 year old, or me for that matter lol.

I’m supposed to predict what I see your life like in the future, right? I think you’re an amazing lawyer (that is what you’re going to study at University, isn’t it?) I peer-reviewed one of your English papers once and you made me totally change my mind on The Woman in Black, I mean, she shouldn’t have tormented him but she was also grieving. I knew then that you could see the good in everyone, exactly what a good lawyer should be. Umm…you’re probably happily living with your husband who you met in a lecture and bonded over some conversation about how to save the world or what near extinct animal you should fundraise for.

I’m jealous of him just thinking about it.

Can I make a confession? Since I don’t think we’ll miraculously become friends and you’ll somehow read this while I sit beside you. It’s actually the real reason I’m writing this to you (I lied earlier about not knowing, I just didn’t know if I would say this part lol.)

I like you, as in, like you - like you. I have since first year when you walked into homeroom with your hair tied up and your Hello Kitty backpack. I might even be in love with you, as much as a 16 year old boy can be. You’re so passionate and beautiful that I can’t keep my eyes off you. Even now in the computer room, I’m staring straight at you and you haven’t even looked my way once. It always goes like this but I don’t blame you for it, don’t worry! It’s my fault, I should stop being a coward and ask you out, or at least try and be friends with you.

I’m leaving at the end of fourth year, I hate this place, to be honest. I have no idea what I am going to do or who I am and I’m scared as fuck. I wish in another life I could have you by my side through adulthood. I think it’s the only way I can cope, it’s the only reason I survived this hellhole. One look at you, and I feel safe, like the world isn’t crashing down on me. That’s weird, isn’t it? To think that about someone you don’t speak to.

This is coming off as creepy, like I don’t stalk you or anything, don’t worry. I just can’t express my feelings well but I guess it’s as simple as:

I think I love you, I hope no matter what happens in the future you have the life you deserve, and if I do happen to build up the courage at the end of the year to confess and you fall in love with me and I am in fact that husband I spoke about earlier (although way cooler and less of a knob) then do not speak about this lol.

Take care of yourself, Y/N. The world is so much brighter with you in it.

~ Your secret admirer.

LOL imagine I left you hanging like that :P

~ It’s Jaeyun (Sim, not Lee)

You stare blankly at your phone screen, the words swirling before your eyes like a whirlpool of emotions. A tidal wave crashes over you, leaving you paralysed in your seat, suspended in a moment of disbelief and regret. It's as if time itself has come to a standstill, and the world around you fades into insignificance as you grapple with the weight of Jaeyun's confession.

How could you not have noticed? How could you have been so blind to his feelings, so oblivious to the subtle signs of affection that now seem painfully obvious in hindsight? Jaeyun, of all people, someone who had offered you a smile while his friend group glared at you, or how he volunteered to be your dancing partner during PE, all that time you figured he was doing it to mock you when in fact, he was someone who had seen you for who you truly were when others merely glanced over you.

Jaeyun had been there all along, quietly observing, silently hoping for a chance to make his feelings known.

And you wish he did because out of all the popular students in your year, he was the one you would have been opened to. You had a crush on him like any girl does in their youth, but that's all you thought it was, an unrequited crush that could never be anything more than that. Yet, here he was telling you he liked you, so casually, in a letter he wrote at 16.

In his predictions, he was right about one thing - you are a lawyer, a damn good one at that. It’s amazing how he even knew that considering you don’t remember telling him nor did you share any inclination with even your friends that you were planning to go to Uni for it. It wasn’t for any reason other than usually when you tell someone you are going to do something, you end up never achieving it.

However, he missed the mark on the marriage front. Between the demands of University and your intensive full-time job, which frequently spills over into overtime, your romantic life has mostly consisted of fleeting Tinder dates and occasional hookups. Yet, it's not a life steeped in sorrow, marriage and children have never ranked high on your list of priorities, so you harbour no discontentment with your current relationship status, not really...

Suppressing the lump in your throat, you resort to the timeless ritual that any single woman in her mid-twenties indulges in upon discovering that someone from high school had an interest in her, particularly when she once found him undeniably attractive and frequently mentioned him to her closest friends back in the day: you embark on an Instagram stalking expedition, naturally.

Abandoning your pile of emails and the documents of your current case, you cast aside all distractions in a quest for Jaeyun. Despite only sharing a couple of conversations with him that linger in your memory, you're compelled to uncover what he's been up to. Typing his name into the search bar, you hold your breath, hoping that finding him won't prove too difficult given his distinctive name.

Thankfully, user simjakeyun emerges with ease, and in no time, you find yourself perusing his profile.

There he is, just as you recall him - those beguiling puppy eyes you once avoided now ensnaring you with their warmth, and that infectious smile rendering him ageless. As you delve into his world, you're entranced by the adventures he shares and the moments he has captured. His life appears so rich and fulfilling that you can't help but feel a pang of contrast with the dreary confines of your current office.

As you scroll, you see how he is embracing life to its fullest, travelling the world and seeing countries you can’t even point out on a map, all while you find yourself tethered to the prison of your office walls for hours on end. It's not that you despise your own life, but in this moment of comparison, a sense of discontentment begins to gnaw at you.

There are a few girls on his page but none that are consistent, with no wedding ring and no kids, you wonder whether it’s worth dropping him a message.

Are you really going to slide into Sim Jaeyun’s DMs? Yes. Yes, you are.

Creating a new private message, you hesitate, staring at his profile picture at the top of the screen. That beautiful smile makes you second-guess yourself. Why would he care about a silly little message from you? He’s out there striving and thriving, while your Instagram chronicles the life of a busy lawyer with only two close friends and an obvious wine addiction due to the countless glasses that makes frequent appearances.

You linger on the message screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. The doubts swirl in your mind, but something pushes you forward. Taking a deep breath, you begin to type.

"Hey Jaeyun, it's been ages! I just stumbled across your profile and couldn't resist saying hi. It looks like you've been on some incredible adventures. How have you been?"

You pause, re-reading the message. It feels both too casual and overly formal at the same time. With a sigh, you delete the last sentence and try again. Your mind is screaming at you not to bring up the letter, yet it might be the only way to get a response. At the end of the day, he was right - you weren’t friends in school, so why pretend you were just to start a conversation? Surely, that would make him think you were a weirdo.

But he told you he might be in love you, and you’ve gone ten years without knowing. Bringing it up could be the key to getting a genuine reaction from him, but it could also backfire spectacularly. He might recoil, feel uncomfortable, and even block you completely. You know you'd have that reaction if the roles were reversed.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to take the plunge. You start typing a new message, carefully choosing your words.

Hi Jaeyun! I don’t know if you remember me but the funniest thing just happened. Do you remember Mr. Yang made us write those letters to someone in the class that would be sent ten years later? I got one today…from you, actually! You probably won’t remember but I thought I would let you know that I got it and thank you :)

You hesitate before hitting send, re-reading it over and over again to avoid spelling mistakes and accidentally telling him that he told you he loved you. As the message goes through, your heart races and a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirls inside you. This is a leap of faith, and all you can do now is wait.

_____

Unfortunately, all you do is wait because it's been two days, and Jaeyun hasn't replied. The silence is deafening, amplifying your doubts and fears. You replay the message over and over in your mind, wondering if you said too much or too little.

It has to be because you mentioned the letter; he probably has a girlfriend. It wouldn't be uncommon for a guy as gorgeous as him to be snapped up quickly. He probably has one of those stunning girlfriends with long blonde hair and a figure straight out of Vogue.

You try to push the thoughts aside, but they persist, gnawing at you. Doubts mingle with vivid imaginations of his perfect life, further widening the gap between your reality and the fantasy you've constructed. Much like he passively fantasised about the prospect of being your husband all those years ago, you now find yourself lying on your couch, imagining what it would be like to be his wife.

The images in your mind are vivid and alluring: travelling the world together, exploring new places, sharing laughs and quiet moments. You picture the two of you living in a charming apartment, hosting dinner parties, and supporting each other through life's ups and downs. The fantasy is intoxicating, but it also leaves you feeling a bit hollow as you contrast it with your current life.

Why are you thinking about all of that about a man you haven't seen or cared about in 10 years? Are you really that desperate, wallowing over what could have been when you had practically forgotten about him?

The more you dwell on it, the more you realise how much you've let his lack of response affect you. Deciding that it's time to regain control of your thoughts, you put your phone aside and focus on something productive. You dive into cleaning your house, finally discarding the takeaway boxes and clothes thrown around the room.

As you clean, the physical activity provides a welcome distraction and a sense of accomplishment. You clear the clutter, creating a more organised and inviting space. Each piece of trash you throw away and each item you put back in its place helps you feel more in control. The mess around you had mirrored the turmoil in your mind, and now, with each cleaned surface, you feel a bit more at peace.

You remind yourself of your strengths and the life you've built. Your career, your friends, your favourite plant that you bought on a whim - all these things are a testament to the vibrant and dynamic life you lead. You're not defined by a response from Jaeyun.

His life is not yours and yours is not his. You are an independent-

*ping*

Leaping over your couch, you unlock your phone and see the Instagram notification and smile brightly, like it was a job offer you’ve been patiently awaiting or an early release of your favourite manga. The rush of anticipation and excitement courses through you as you eagerly open the app to read Jaeyun's message.

Hey there! Sorry about the delay in getting back to you. I've been on a marathon journey back from the UK over the past few days. Opted for the budget ticket, and obviously, it turned into a 36-hour saga with three stopovers 😅. But hey, I'm finally back home!

It's genuinely awesome to hear from you! Can you believe that letter actually made its way to you? I half-suspected it was some scheme Mr. Yang cooked up to sneak a smoke break with Mr. Kim lol.

I remember writing that letter! I said a few things in there...didn’t I? 😳 So, are you still in town? We should totally catch up tomorrow if you're free. I'm all yours if you'll have me.

Your heart skips a beat as you read Jaeyun's message, a rush of excitement coursing through you. His casual tone and mention of the letter bring a smile to your face. It's a relief to see that he's not put off or weirded out by your message; instead, he seems genuinely happy to hear from you.

His apparent recollection of what he said in the letter adds a layer of complexity to the situation. He may want to meet up to address it, perhaps to clarify that it was meant as a joke or to downplay its significance. You find yourself mentally preparing for the possibility of him saying something along the lines of, "Hey, sorry, that was just a joke, so please don't read into it."

While you tell yourself that you'll accept his explanation, deep down, you know that these past two days have shown that you may not take it as casually as you initially thought. If a simple message, or lack thereof, got you in such a tizzy, you can't imagine how you'd react to a rejection of a confession that you didn't even make.

Regardless, you type your response rapidly, not caring if it makes you look desperate and available.

You must be exhausted after travelling! But I'm glad you made it back home safe and sound. I'm free tomorrow. Can you do after 6pm? There's this cosy cafe downtown that's perfect for catching up, it’s called Daisies. I'll make sure to save you a seat. Looking forward to it!

With a quick tap, you send the message, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness about tomorrow's meeting. However, you don’t get long to be alone with your thoughts as another ping of your phone comes through.

Do they do double Jack and Cokes? I think I might need it if I remember what I wrote lol…😅

In all honesty, you might need one as well.

_____

Straightening the napkins on the table for the seventh time in the space of an hour, you watch the door patiently, anticipation coursing through your veins, waiting for Jaeyun to walk through the glass door of the bar you had both settled on. Each of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to have this conversation without some form of alcohol.

It’s not that you’re nervous about seeing him again; after all, you used to see him every day. But it's the weight of the conversation that looms over you. The realisation that the first real conversation you are going to have with him throughout all these years is about a letter he confessed to you in - a letter never meant for you to read because he thought it was a hoax assignment. His actions, unintentional as they may have been, have consequences, and you can't shake the uncertainty of it all.

As the minutes tick by, each second feels heavier than the last. You find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying scenarios and conversations in your mind, trying to predict how tonight's encounter might unfold. Will Jaeyun be as casual and friendly as his messages suggested, or will there be an underlying tension lingering beneath the surface?

The sound of the door opening snaps you out of your reverie, and you glance up, heart pounding, only to find it's just another punter entering the bar. You let out a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly, but the anticipation remains palpable.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm and composed. This is just Sim Jaeyun, not an ex, not a lost lover, not your dad’s work colleague—there is nothing to be nervous about.

“Y/N?”

Jaeyun’s melodious voice breaks through your thoughts, and you look up to meet his gaze with wide eyes, startled by his sudden appearance. How on earth did he manage to slip through that door without you noticing? The surprise registers on your face as you take in his presence, a mix of amusement and disbelief dancing in your eyes.

"Jaeyun, hey!" you exclaim, your voice betraying your surprise as it breaks, forcing you to clear the bubble in your throat and quickly regain your composure. “I mean, when did you get here?”

He laughs loudly, the rich sound filling the room as he takes the seat opposite to you. The genuine warmth of his smile is infectious, closing his eyes slightly as he enjoys the moment. “Just a minute ago, I went up to the bar first to order us a drink. You like white wine, yeah?”

Nodding, you tilt your head, intrigued. “Yeah, how did you know that?”

“I saw you started without me,” Jaeyun chuckles once again, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he points to your empty glass, “I made an educated guess.”

You can't help but marvel at Jaeyun's appearance. His features are striking, his smile infectious, and there's a certain magnetism about him that draws you in. It's as if he effortlessly commands attention without even trying. A face that gorgeous shouldn’t be allowed to roam so freely, you think to yourself. It should come with a warrant, or at the very least a warning label.

He’s also wearing a pretty cream jacket with a simple white Stussy t-shirt, and some cargo jeans. His hair is much longer than when he was younger, with whisps of his fringe covering his face.

It’s parallel to your business-casual outfit, having just come from the office you decided to opt for a baby pink blouse - in honour of your hero Elle Woods, a cream thigh-length skirt, and a pair of kitten heels. It wasn’t exactly how you wished to dress while meeting Jaeyun again for the first time but due to having consultation with clients, you couldn’t exactly wear a little black dress.

Not that Jaeyun minds; as you’re lost in thought, his eyes are tracing over your body, how your clothes look tailor-made and your tits are sitting beautifully. He feels like a perv for staring at you, this is the first time he’s seen you in so long and here he is, eye fucking you. Though who could blame him? Even as he focuses on your face, forcing his eyes to leave the contours of your curves, all he can stare at is your lips and how they’ve been freshly glossed.

Clearing his throat, Jaeyun tries to shake off the inappropriate thoughts flooding his mind. "So, how have you been?" he asks, his smile innocent yet tinged with nervousness.

"Good. Yeah, good. You?" you respond, keeping your tone neutral, not revealing too much about your well-being. To you, your life is boring and lacks anything worth speaking about.

"Yeah...good," Jaeyun replies, the awkward tension between you palpable in the air.

The atmosphere strange, a tense undercurrent clouding the breezy air. Being alone with him, even being with him at all, feels unfamiliar and stirs a tinge of awkwardness in you. Luckily, he seems just as uneasy.

But when your eyes finally meet, you both burst out laughing, the tension melting away. The sound of your harmonious laughter fills the bar, louder than the soft hum of music or the chatter of others in the background.

His laugh is just as infectious as you remember it, filling the air with its higher-pitched squeals that seem to come in four successions. You watch with fondness as his body leans to the side, his eyes scrunching together in pure joy. It's a sight you hadn't realised you missed until now, a flood of memories rushing back to you in an instant. You hadn't known you knew that about him - the way he laughs, the way he tilts his head when he finds something amusing - but now, it's like a long-lost memory has suddenly resurfaced, and you're hateful to yourself for ever forgetting.

He straightens up, shaking his head to calm his amusement, yet the smile still beams from his face. Huffing out, he nods and looks at you, as though agreeing with his thoughts. “You know, I just realised that we haven’t ever spoken, so this is a bit awkward, isn’t it?”

Shaking your head, you lean forward, your fingers deftly smoothing out the tiniest wrinkle in your shirt as you relax, feeling your body shift with the new atmosphere. “That isn’t true, we had that conversation during country dancing classes.”

“Oh, you mean, ‘Can you not step on my foot, please?’ I would hardly count it as a conversation,” he dismisses it lightheartedly, offering you another chuckle as he remembers.

What he doesn’t know is that you do count it. It was your first proper encounter with him, and even though he kept squashing your toe under his tatty trainers, you let it go because it was also the first time you heard that melodic Australian accent say your name as he mumbled a quick, ‘sorry, Y/N’.

You both laugh again at the memory before the waiter brings over your drinks. “Cheers, mate. Thanks.” Jaeyun smiles politely at the man. It’s the bare minimum to thank your server, yet you can’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as he does so. It’s a testament to his kindness because most of the guys you have ever dated have been the type to snap their fingers or complain about the tiniest thing that could easily be fixed.

Not Jaeyun though, he is far too sweet to act like an arsehole. You haven’t even spent 10 minutes with him and you already know it.

As the waiter walks away, you reach for your wine before stopping for a beat, looking at it thoughtfully. There is a slice of lemon inside the glass, the sight peculiar not because you don’t like it, but rather because you do like it. It’s not conventional to have any garnishes on wine; most connoisseurs say that the wine is already perfect as made. But you like things extra bitter and everything citrus; it’s been this way since college.

You glance at Jaeyun as he sips his Jack and Coke, his attention solely on his drink, seemingly oblivious to your curiosity. Could he have known you liked wine this way? But how? It’s not like you brought a 125ml and a wedge to school. And you certainly don’t come here frequently enough for the bartender to remember you or your order.

The thought niggles at the back of your mind as you take another sip of your wine, mulling over the possibilities. Perhaps it's just a coincidence, you tell yourself, trying to rationalise the situation. But it also isn’t a big deal, you got what you wanted without asking for it which is a very rare occurrence, so you’ll take it and run.

Setting the thought aside, you indulge in a sip of the crisp wine, a contented hum escaping your lips as you enjoy the taste. With a playful shoulder dance, you set the glass down on the table. “So, how has life been since you left school?” you ask casually, even though as you glance up at him, you catch him licking the residue of his drink from his lips and it makes your body flush with heat.

Your gaze lingers for a moment longer than intended, a fleeting moment of admiration as you catch the subtle details of his expression.

“Really…amazing actually,” he begins, his voice laced with a sense of joy as a broad smile lights up his face. “When I left, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I just got a part-time job, saved up enough to travel and see my brother back in Australia, and from there...just travelled. I did odd jobs to make money, enough to pay rent for a few months at each place.”

As Jaeyun speaks, you can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy creeping into your thoughts. His carefree lifestyle, filled with adventure and spontaneity, sounds like a dream compared to your own mundane existence of endless paperwork and court cases.

“Wow, that sounds incredible,” you respond, trying to mask the envy in your voice with genuine interest. “Must have been amazing to just pick up and go wherever you want.”

Jaeyun nods enthusiastically, his eyes alight with the memories of his adventures. “It is liberating, honestly. I’ve learned so much about myself and the world. It was good for me, it turned out to be exactly what I needed.”

He takes another sip of his JD, his expression shifting to one of apology as he notices the dejected look on your face. “But what about you? Aren’t you a fancy lawyer now? That’s way more impressive than a country-hopper.”

You know he's just trying to be polite, but his words only serve to magnify your own feelings of inadequacy. In no world is your tiresome job and lack of social life anywhere near as impressive as what he has managed to accomplish in 10 years.

Taking a big swig of your drink, you bob your head from side to side, downplaying the enormity of your profession. “Yeah, it’s okay. It pays well and I do love it some days. I work in corporate law, so it isn’t as exciting as I would have liked.”

“You wanted to do immigration law, right?” Jaeyun asks, his tone is casual but his question catches you off guard.

You pause, your eyes narrowing with scepticism as you look at him. It's one thing for him to recall your career aspirations, but for him to remember the specific field you were interested in seems almost uncanny. After all, you never spoke about it except in your university applications. So unless he had some insider knowledge, there's no reason for him to know such specific details.

Nodding slowly, you set your wine glass down and lean back. “Yeah… how did you know that? I never told anyone about it.”

“I guess I'm just quite the observer,” he jokes, though there's a hint of sheepishness in his tone as he scratches the back of his neck. He curses himself inwardly for being so casual about a minute detail that he knows he shouldn’t know. “I actually, uh, I saw you checking out an Immigration Law and Social Justice book one day. Figured that’s what you wanted to do.”

Jaeyun wasn’t lying; that really was how he knew. It was just before summer break, and he was returning his physics books when he noticed you in front of him, a pile of books in one arm, the first one being about immigration law.

You look up to the ceiling, a smile of understanding spreading across your face as you let out a contented 'oh', finally piecing together the mystery. "That makes sense now. I was so confused when you wrote about me going on to become a lawyer in that letter because I could have sworn I never uttered a word to anyone."

“That’s right! I predicted you would be a snooty lawyer,” he exclaims, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he lightly bangs his fist on the table. His chuffed grin widens, spreading across his face like he's just won the first question on a quiz show.

Laughing, you nod in agreement. You don’t tell him that he never called you snooty because he also isn’t wrong as he adds the adjective. Although you’re easy going outside of the office, you hold yourself with high pride while at work, looking down on the men you work with. Perhaps you would be more kind if they weren’t gigantic arseholes with no morals.

So in that sense, yes, yes you are snooty.

“You also said I would be married with kids,” you point out, a chuckle escaping your lips as you recall the absurdity of the prediction.

“So? Did I get two for two?” Jaeyun retorts, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows. Beneath his casual demeanour, though, a subtle flutter stirs in his heart at the mention of a husband. He wants you to be happy, obviously - why wouldn’t he? But he can’t deny the pang of jealousy that tugs at him at the prospect of you being happy with another man.

You notice the subtle shift in Jaeyun's manner, the conflict between his words and the emotion flickering in his eyes, but you choose to let it pass without comment. Instead, you simply shake your head and lift your eyebrows, taking another sip of your white wine. If you don’t slow down, you’ll be finished five of these before Jaeyun has even made a dent in his first drink.

He audibly gasps at your silent confession, his surprise evident in the way his eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly. As much as he had hoped you wouldn’t have a man waiting for you at home, he can’t believe that you don’t.

“Seriously? I would have thought someone would have snapped you up in a heartbeat,” he admits, still flabbergasted that the bright and beautiful woman sitting before him is, in fact, single.

“Nope. I guess it’s just like high school,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you downplay the situation. Despite trying to be casual about it all, a hint of vulnerability lingers beneath the surface. You know how it looks, being in your mid-twenties and never having been in a serious relationship. It has made you wonder countless times about what could possibly be so repulsive that men don’t want to pursue a relationship with you.

But then you remember the richness of your life - a nice cosy flat, paying all your own bills, having friends who love you unconditionally, and a supportive family who stands by every decision you make. In the grand scheme of things, your life is fulfilling in its own right, far beyond the confines of a romantic relationship.

It doesn’t mean you don’t sometimes feel like you’re missing out though, but you've come to appreciate the career-driven journey that is yours alone.

Jaeyun's laughter fills the air, warm and genuine, but there's a certain intensity in his gaze as he looks you dead in the eyes. His iris’, a shade of deep brown flecked with golden hues, seem to hold a wealth of unspoken words, as if there's something he's yearning to express beyond the surface banter.

“Like high school? As in you’re too busy to notice people looking your way?” he quips, his voice light but tinged with a hint of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a silent recognition of the unspoken truths dancing between you due to one letter.

This damn letter.

“You did mention how you would always look at me. Although, you made it very clear you were not a stalker,” you remark with a snort of laughter, thinking back to the playful disclaimer he had included in his letter. The tension between you dissipates slightly as you both chuckle loudly with one another much like before.

Even when the air is awkward, you both still manage to find comfort in it. Perhaps it’s because you both share feelings that none of you are aware of. As far as you’re concerned, he left those feelings behind in secondary school, and he thinks you’ve never cared about him at all.

Jaeyun covers his face as the memories invade his mind of writing and re-writing the paragraph to make you abundantly aware that he did not sit outside your house at night and watch you through the window - a sentence which was in the first draft - or that he didn’t transfer classes to National 3 Maths to be close to you - even though he did and he should have graduated high school with National 5, sacrificing his academic standing just to have the seat close to yours.

“Can I read it? I need to know what I should specifically be apologising for,” Jaeyun titters, his voice muffled by the palms of his hands as he peeks through his fingers at you. The request hangs in the air, laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, as if he's both eager and apprehensive to revisit the words he had penned so long ago.

Reaching for your phone in your bag, you nod, trifling through the empty wrappers of gum and secret chocolate bars you sneakily eat in the office. The last time you ate your well-deserved Mars bar, your boss made a snide comment about how you must be starting your period soon. It’s men like him that make Jaeyun’s bare minimum of thanking the waiter a much-needed standard.

You retrieve your phone and open up the letter, passing it to him which he awkwardly accepts, smiling apologetically at you already for whatever 16-year-old him thought was appropriate to say. He begins to scroll, his face changing from amusement to disdain and then back to amusement. Yet one solid feature is etched on his face the entire time, hiding behind the other emotions he is portraying but you can’t figure it out.

You observe Jaeyun as he clicks the phone to lock it, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face before he passes it back to you. There's a hint of apprehension in his eyes, mingled with a quiet resignation, yet he does what Jaeyun does best; he smiles and washes his true feelings away.

“It was even more cringe-worthy than I remember, I seriously gotta apologise that you had to read all of that,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle, his tone light but carrying a hint of genuine remorse. It's his way of deflecting, of downplaying his confession, but you can't help but sense the underlying sincerity beneath his words.

"I honestly thought it was a joke when I opened it and saw your name," you admit softly, wary of your words. You don't want him to think you found his feelings laughable, but rather that receiving a love letter at all was the punchline, particularly back then.

Contrary to his portrayal in the letter, you didn't consider yourself pretty or beautiful in high school. You felt average, plagued by acne, with scars that still dot your face as lingering reminders. Your hair was often a mess, your face untouched by makeup, and you never settled on a style, finding them all too mismatched with your personality.

Upon hearing your confession, Jaeyun's eyes widen in disbelief. "Seriously? Why?"

You shrug, picking up your glass and swirling it thoughtfully before responding. "You were with Chris and the others, and let's be honest, they weren't exactly my best friends," you scoff, recalling the snide comments his friends used to make in passing, or the 'accidental' bumps that would cause you to drop your phone or books.

There is a pregnant pause in the air as Jaeyun's expression softens with understanding, a hint of regret shadowing his features. "I'm sorry you had to deal with all that," he murmurs, genuine remorse colouring his tone.

You offer a small, dismissive wave of your hand, attempting to brush off the memories. "Water under the bridge now," you say, though the bitterness still lingers beneath the surface. It wasn’t his fault; he had no control over his friends' actions, and in hindsight, he was the one in the group who never laughed at your discomfort or instigated trouble for you. He was always there to offer you an apologetic smile when you needed it.

Back then, it was hard to see him as an individual from the others, considering he was always by their side. But in retrospect you realise that your crush on him had been rooted in an unspoken recognition of his genuine and kind nature, even if in high school you couldn’t fully see it. You never hated him, the opposite in fact, and there was a reason for that.

A chuckle escapes Jaeyun's lips, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "If it makes you feel better, I got my wish," he says, laughter lacing his words as he knocks back the rest of his drink. "Half of them peaked in school, and Chris is divorced and balding as we speak."

You can't help but laugh along with him, the irony not lost on you. "Well, karma works in mysterious ways," you quip, raising your glass in a mock toast to the twists of fate.

Jaeyun grins, clinking his glass against yours. "Cheers to that."

Settling comfortably back in your seat, you smile fondly at him. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you feel at ease. There’s something about him that makes you feel safe, a sense that no matter what’s going on in your mind, he can calm you down. You recall his words in the letter, how he could look at you and instantly feel better.

Jaeyun's gaze holds a gentle intensity, his eyes sparkling with a glint of satisfaction as he observes your visibly relaxed state. "It's nice seeing you like this," he murmurs softly, a hint of warmth lacing his voice. "I always hoped we'd have a moment like this someday."

You hum softly, grinning sheepishly at the prospect that Sim Jaeyun could have thought about you even after your school years. It does beg the elephant in the room to be addressed, however, both of you sneaking around the main focus of his written word.

"In the letter," you begin, feeling a curious mix of apprehension and anticipation swirl in your chest. The question hovers on the tip of your tongue, laden with the weight of untold possibilities. "Why didn’t you ask me out?"

The inquiry catches Jaeyun off guard, momentarily stalling his easy demeanour. He blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he recovers with a thoughtful expression. It's evident that he hadn't anticipated such directness from you, despite knowing your inquisitive nature all too well.

Straightening out his jacket with a nervous flick, Jaeyun adjusts his posture to convey a sense of faux confidence. He clears his throat and licks his lips, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I shouldn’t have been a coward," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

Jaeyun's candid admission bubbles shock into you, yet you find it refreshing coming from a man. You nod in understanding, silently acknowledging his confession.

"You were just…you," he says, meeting your eyes with candour. "Smart, attractive, career-oriented, and determined to change the world. And I was just a screwy little kid with no life aspirations and nothing to offer a girl like you."

His words resonate within you, with a genuine honesty that is both disarming and charming. Despite his self-deprecating tone, you can't help but be empathic to the vulnerability he's exhibiting.

"I didn't see you that way," you say, your voice soft but genuine, hoping to convey that you never considered him beneath you. In your view, you could never be on his level, not in a negative sense, but in the understanding that he exuded charisma and confidence that seemed out of reach. Your personalities were too contrasting, with him being cool and outgoing, while you felt you would have fallen short.

Jaeyun lets out a rueful laugh, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You didn't see me at all, did you?" he replies, his tone carrying a mix of self-awareness and resignation.

His words hit you like a blow to the chest, a painful realisation dawning upon you. You wince, feeling yourself crumble inward, the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken truths bearing down heavily on your shoulders. If you had stuck your head out of your own bubble, maybe you would be sitting and having a drink with him as something more than high school could haves.

"I'm sorry about that," you say, your voice laced with regret. "I was so focused on studying and staying away from your crowd that I just didn't see."

Jaeyun's expression softens, his features reflecting a mixture of empathy and knowing. "It's alright," he says gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on yours. “The way you were back then, it was exactly the reason I lo-, I liked you so much,” he confesses sheepishly, stumbling over his words as he skirts around the most obviously avoided topic of his letter.

Shaking off the intensity of the moment, Jaeyun gestures for the waiter to return, his easy smile returning as he orders more drinks, figuring that if he’s sipping, he isn’t saying something he might regret.

“So, tell me about being a lawyer.”

_____

For the next three hours, you both speak about everything and anything; from his adventurous travels to your disastrous dates, from your awful bosses to the state of the government, you discuss it all. Each topic seamlessly flows into another, and you find yourself conversing with ease, as if you're best friends on your weekly catch up.

As the evening progresses, you've shared stories, laughter, and even a few moments of vulnerability. The wine has flowed freely, the bottle emptying with each heartfelt story, while Jaeyun has indulged in his fair share of Jack and Coke, the familiar burn of the alcohol helping to dissolve any lingering feelings of apprehension.

Despite the passage of time and the years spent apart, it feels as though no time has passed at all. You find yourself effortlessly connecting with Jaeyun, discovering new facets of his personality with each shared anecdote and heartfelt confession. You wonder if you would have gotten along this well in secondary school.

"Is this you back for good then or?" you ask, the wine buzz kicking into your system enough to make you lean forward, resting your chin on your hand as you gaze at him with an undercurrent of longing.

Jaeyun's expression softens, his eyes never meeting yours but they shine with a hint of something you cannot put your finger on. "I'm actually going to Malta the day after tomorrow. This was just a flying visit," he replies, his tone tinged with a sense of wistfulness.

The news comes as bittersweet to you because just as you had Jaeyun within reach, he is also leaving you just as quickly. But you’re also envious that while you have to get up early and represent people in a boardroom who only see value in money and nothing else, he is galavanting to another dream destination.

"Ugh, I am so jealous!" you proclaim, unable to hide the playful pout that forms on your lips. Your declaration elicits a hearty laugh from Jaeyun, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he shakes his head, seemingly amused by the idea of someone successful like you being envious of him.

Because little do you know, that behind the facade of excitement of his adventures lies a loneliness he's kept hidden for years. He couch surfs, has little money to his name, and lacks solid friends to call in times of need. He hasn’t even seen his family in years, missing out on cherished moments like Christmas and birthdays. Despite the allure of adventure and freedom, his heart aches for companionship, for someone to share his experiences with.

As if a lightbulb goes off atop his head, he bites his lip and begins to speak. “You could co-”

“Sorry guys, we actually need this table for a last-minute reservation, could you sit at the bar until a free table is available?” The interruption from your waiter cuts off Jaeyun before he can finish his sentence, leaving him momentarily stunned.

You glance at your phone and smile, "It’s getting late anyway so we should go. Thank you though," you respond politely, masking any disappointment you might feel.

Jaeyun nods in agreement, thanking the waiter once again before standing up. He holds out his hand for you to take as you rise from your chair, an action that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It’s not the gesture itself but the way he extended his hand without thinking about it.

Taking Jaeyun’s hand, you stand up, careful not to bump into anything as you step out from behind the table. Together, you retreat outside, the cool night air hitting your alcohol-flushed faces, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the crowded restaurant. The sensation brings a sense of relief, washing away the residual tension from the interrupted conversation.

Jaeyun notices the icy air, but instead of embracing it, his gaze falls on you, and he can't help but notice how your thin blouse must be providing little protection against the chill. Swiftly, he takes off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, adjusting it with care to ensure you're snug and warm.

You're taken aback by his offer, feeling a rush of gratitude and warmth flood through you at his thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you say softly, a smile touching your lips as you pull the jacket tighter around you.

He returns your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine affection. “Let me walk you home?” he offers, his tone gentle yet insistent.

You hesitate for a moment, trying to save him the inconvenience, but he's not fooled. Jaeyun knows the dangers of a woman walking alone at night, and while he trusts your ability to handle yourself, he wouldn't feel right if he left you and something did happen. Plus, deep down, he relishes the opportunity to spend as much time with you as possible.

Touched by his concern, you look up at him and offer a small smile. "I only live down the road, I'll be fine," you assure him, though the underlying appreciation in your voice is evident.

Jaeyun shakes his head with determination, a glint of resolve in his eyes. "I insist," he says firmly, reaching for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I won't take no for an answer."

His sincerity and insistence warm your heart, and you find yourself relenting, knowing that his company will make the short walk home all the more enjoyable. With a grateful nod, you lead the way, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in his presence as you navigate the dimly lit streets together.

You really do only live about 10 minutes away, so the walk is quick by usual standards. Yet, tonight, you find yourself taking your time, savouring each step as if seeing the world through a new lens. Perhaps it's the lingering effects of the wine, or maybe it's the comforting presence of Jaeyun's hand in yours, but suddenly, the world feels lighter and fresher than it did just this morning.

As you stroll through the streets, you notice the ebb and flow of life around you. People are walking into bars, some are finishing up for the day, and others are simply enjoying a leisurely evening stroll. The streets hum with a busy yet serene energy, a unique blend of activity and tranquillity that can only be found when there's no rush to get from A to B.

Reaching your apartment building, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to take in the familiar surroundings with newfound appreciation. The soft glow of the streetlights casts a warm ambience over the building's facade, while the gentle hum of the city envelops you both.

You pause in front of the entrance, turning to Jaeyun with a smile. "This is me," you say, gesturing with the hand clasped in his, pulling him out of whatever thoughts have plagued him this whole journey.

While you were admiring your hometown, Jaeyun was overcome with thoughts that, once you reach your flat, this could be the last time he sees you again. He doesn’t want to come across as greedy for your time or clingy considering this is the first time you’ve both interacted in ten years, but he had so much fun that he doesn’t want it to end here.

Luckily for him, you have the same thoughts even if you aren’t projecting them in your manner the same way he is. “Would you like to come up?”

Your invitation hangs in the air, laden with the unspoken hope of spending just a little more time in each other’s company or maybe something else. Jaeyun's heart skips a beat as he meets your gaze, seeing a glimmer of anticipation reflected in your eyes. He hesitates for only a moment, the weight of his own desires battling against his fear of overstepping.

But in the end, the pull of your company proves too strong to resist. With a soft smile, Jaeyun nods, his voice barely above a whisper. "If that’s okay, I would love to."

The thing about you both is that you’re seeking companionship in one another while also oblivious that the other feels the same way. You aren’t noticing how Jaeyun subtly prolonged the walk, pulling you back a few times as if reluctant to let the evening end. And he certainly didn’t notice the hopeful glint in your eyes as you asked him for another bout of his time, knowing what this could lead to.

As you both step into the building and make your way up the stairs to your apartment, there's a quiet anticipation between you, a sense of possibility tinged with the thrill of the unknown. Each step brings you closer together, the space between you filled with unspoken thoughts and unvoiced desires.

As you unlock the door and step inside, the warmth of your home envelops you, a comforting embrace that welcomes Jaeyun into your world.

You are also very glad that you had that anxiety-induced cleanathon.

Jaeyun wipes his feet on your doormat before heading inside, looking around at your quaint yet busy home. “Your flat is nice. Homely.”

“I’m either here or the office so…” you explain, taking your shoes and his jacket off, discarding them on their appropriate stands.

Since you spend a lot of evenings in your office, which is sterile and minimalistic, you wanted the opposite tone for your house. You filled it with knick-knacks and plants, every available surface adorned with shelves or posters, while the warm orange paint added a cosy glow to the environment. This was your sanctuary and you couldn’t love it any more.

You wonder if you would love it so much if your office wasn’t your only other option of residence.

You open the refrigerator and peep at the beverages you have on hand. "Do you want a beer, wine, or I can make a coffee?” You offer, grinning and looking at Jaeyun.

“Beer sounds good, thank you,” Jaeyun replies, his attention drifting towards one of your paintings that hangs just beside a free-standing bookshelf filled with your favourite romance and fantasy books.

You don’t get the chance to read as often as you would like, but when you do, it has to be filled with a romance that is so out of reach that you can convince yourself that it would never happen to you anyway. If it’s too realistic, you start to feel a little burdened at the lack of love you receive from a partner.

Grabbing a beer for him and a glass of white for yourself, you make your way over to him, extending your hand as you offer him the ice-cold drink. He accepts it with an appreciative nod and suddenly, his eyes dart over to your University degrees, each one showcasing your incredible knowledge and talent. You always ended up top of your class with first honours, a testament to your hard work.

“You really made something of yourself, Y/N. It’s incredible.” Jaeyun says softly, clinking your glass with his bottle.

“Eh, it’s all amazing and then you’re suddenly working crazy hours with not so much as a thank you,” you shrug, voice bitter as you think about all the times your dedication to your clients goes by unnoticed. You don’t do it for the acknowledgment, however, when your colleagues are getting praise for doing the bare minimum, it starts to nag at you.

Turning to you, he tilts his head, “Do you hate it?”

Do you? That’s the big question. Maybe if you had stuck to immigration law like you wanted and weren’t swayed towards corporate all because your University advisor had told you ‘It’s what is best for someone of your calibre’ then maybe, just maybe, you would be content. You aren’t being fulfilled the way you hoped you would.

“I don’t think I hate the work as much as I hate the people. They are soulless, money-hungry, misogynistic pigs with no manners,” you say spitefully, the anger bubbling inside you evident in the fire that flashes in your eyes. As much as the job might not be totally fulfilling, you think you would enjoy it more if the men in your office or those you represent had even a shred of respect for you.

Your shoulders tense, the frustration threatening to overwhelm you, but as you hear Jaeyun’s subtle laughter, you whip your head around and knit your brows together. “What?” you demand, your tone sharp with irritation. There was nothing funny in your statement, so you're finding it rather difficult to understand the chuckle that is flooding your ear.

“No, no, I’m not laughing at your struggles,” he says softly, sensing your manner change to slightly standoffish. “It’s just…you haven’t changed. You’re still passionate and driven. Just like the girl I fell in--”

He stops himself abruptly, the words dying on his lips as he realises what he was about to say. Mentally kicking himself for almost letting slip, not once, but twice tonight, he trails off into an awkward silence, the unspoken words hanging heavily between you.

But you can’t let it slide a second time. If you’re going to talk about it, now is as good a time as any.

You inhale deeply, the air heavy as you gather your courage to broach the difficult conversation. It’s not one you particularly want to have, but you know it's necessary nonetheless. Steadying yourself, you meet Jaeyun's gaze with determination, steeling yourself for what's to come.

“Jaeyun, when you wrote that you thought you loved me in that letter, was it true?”

His initial shake of the head sends a pang of disappointment through you, but before you can fully process it, he continues, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity. He places his beer on the unit beside him and takes a step forward, his expression earnest.

“No,” he begins, and for a moment, you brace yourself for the finality of his words. But then he surprises you, his next words washing over you like a wave of relief and warmth. “I didn’t think I loved you, I knew it. I just didn’t want to come across as weird or pathetic.”

His honesty leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart racing as you take in the depth of his confession. And as he reaches out, gently taking the wine from your slightly trembling hands and setting it aside, your breath catches in your throat.

With both his hands cradling your face, you find yourself drawn into his gaze, the intensity of his eyes locking with yours. In that moment, time seems to stand still, the world around you fading into the background as you lose yourself in the connection between you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I really am,” Jaeyun admits, his voice laced with regret as he pours out his heart to you. His eyes close for a moment, as if savouring the sensation of your face under his fingertips, the soft beating of your heart a comforting rhythm in the silence between you.

“Adult me hates teenage me for not jumping on the chance to tell you how beautiful and awe-inspiring I thought you were, that I still think you are,” he continues, his words filled with raw honesty. “I was scared because you were so out of my league that I felt ridiculous for even thinking you could love me back. I fucking regret it all because even though we never spoke, I knew I wanted to be with someone as brilliant and wonderful as you. I tried so hard to find someone like you over the years and yet not one person ever compared, because there is only one you, Y/N. And I hate that you weren’t mine for even a minute.”

You have no words to say and it agitates you because here was Jaeyun, telling you how he felt and you couldn’t even give him an ounce of assurance that you would have been his if he had just asked. Your feelings back then were not as intense as his but they were real all the same. No, you didn’t love him but you wonder if you could have.

Jaeyun leans in, resting his forehead against yours, nudging your nose with an affectionate, almost playful tenderness. His warm, alcohol-tinged breath washes over your face, causing you to close your eyes along with him, immersing yourself in the intimate moment passing between you both.

“I don’t want to make the same mistake, Y/N. I can’t.”

His words hang in the air, laden with meaning and urgency. Before you can fully process them, he kisses you. It's a kiss so tender, so full of reverence, it feels as if you were a delicate rose being presented to his most cherished person.

Despite the sincerity and fondness you feel through the gentle pressure of his lips, a wave of uncertainty washes over you. He is leaving for Malta in less than 48 hours, and the thought of the impending separation threatens to overshadow the moment of intimacy you share.

But in this moment, with Jaeyun's arms wrapped around you and his lips against yours, all thoughts of the future fade away. You're consumed by the warmth of his embrace, the sweetness of his kiss, and the undeniable chemistry that ignites between you.

You know there are risks involved, that giving yourself to him could lead to heartache when he inevitably leaves. But this might be the only chance to embrace him, to have him as your own, even for a moment, just as he had wanted all those years ago. Deep down, you know that you could live to regret not taking this chance, the same way he regrets not confessing to you in fourth year.

So you let your inhibitions go, allowing yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment. His tongue swipes over your lips, a soft purr escaping him as he seeks to taste more than just your cherry-tinted lip balm. You can't help but surrender to the intoxicating pull of desire.

He pushes you gently against the wall by your hips, his lips never leaving yours. His senses are overwhelmed by you in every way possible: the taste of you on his tongue, your perfume drifting into his nose, the feel of your body pressing against his, and the soft echoes of your moans filling his ears. He loves it all so much that he thinks he could get addicted to it.

As Jaeyun deepens the kiss, your hands instinctively find their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Each touch, each caress, feels electrifying, sparking a fervour that neither of you can ignore. The taste of him, mingled with the remnants of his drink, is intoxicating, making your heart race faster with every passing second.

Jaeyun’s hands wander from your hips, tracing the curves of your waist and back, committing the feel of you to memory. He pulls you closer, erasing any remaining space between you, the heat of his body seeping into yours. Your breaths come faster, mingling with his in the small, shared space between your mouths.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours once more, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that makes your knees weak. “Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve wanted you for so long, even when I thought I would never see you again, I thought about you.”

“Yeah?” you ask breathlessly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, your fingers tangling in the soft strands.

Nodding, Jaeyun’s features shift, his gaze darkening with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. He kneels before you, his hands moving with deliberate slowness as he finds the zip at the back of your skirt. His fingers work the zipper down, the sound of it seeming loud in the charged silence of the room.

His eyes never leave yours as he sinks down, the skirt slipping down your legs to pool at your feet, leaving you in your white panties. The vulnerability of the moment sends a shiver down your spine, but Jaeyun's adoring gaze and gentle touch reassure you.

Jaeyun places his hands on your hips, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing circles. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe as he looks up at you from his kneeling position. His eyes trace the lines of your body, drinking in the sight of you.

The raw adoration in his gaze ignites a fire within you, and you feel a rush of emotions you can barely contain. “Jaeyun,” you breathe, your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as you steady yourself against the overwhelming surge of feelings.

His hands move from your hips to your thighs, his touch light but firm as he traces the contours of your legs. The anticipation builds with each gentle caress, your skin tingling under his fingertips. When he finally leans in, pressing a tender kiss just above the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escapes your lips.

His touch is reverent, each movement deliberate and full of intent. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, looking up at you for permission. You nod, your breath hitching as he slowly slides them down, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

Jaeyun’s mind races as he sees you in this vulnerable state, yet he is the one who feels exposed. His feelings are pouring out of him like never before, and it’s all down to the fact that you bring that side out of him. No 16 year old should have had the emotional intelligence to decipher a crush from love, yet with you as his focus on the subject, he knew exactly what it was. While his friends were goofing off with people at parties and at the bike rack at school in a fleeting fling, he was wondering how he could make you his.

Looking at your exposed heat, he places a soft, lingering kiss just above your clit, making you jolt. You hadn’t expected him to find it so quickly, yet, it was as easy for him to find as a horse in a cow farm, like he had been doing this for years with you.

Once he feels your fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp, he takes it as the go-ahead to dive in deeper and explore you in ways he only imagined he could. Placing your left leg over his right shoulder and keeping his grip on your thigh for balance, he dips his tongue into your folds, moving in slow but strong strokes, lapping your taste up in his mouth. If your lips had him intoxicated, your pussy had him obsessed.

You throw your head against the wall and buck your hips up to open yourself up further to him, allowing him the privilege to get lost between your thighs and drink you up like a man deprived of cold water on a hot day. He’s so eager to please you that you can sense how much he is enjoying this, maybe even more than you are.

Jaeyun’s tongue swirls at the entrance of your core before he pushes in, tracing the bumps of your wall as he explores your pretty pussy and its tightness; he can only imagine what his cock will feel like clamped inside you, if you grant him the honour to do so.

One thing you crushed on Jaeyun the most over in secondary school was his nose - the prominent feature stood out against everything else and you couldn’t help but marvel at it from time to time. Big noses have been your weakness since your hormones started to kick in and Jaeyun’s was perfect. You know this for a fact now as it brushes on your clit as he slurps and sucks up your cunt.

You revel in the sensation, how his enthusiastic and skilled mouth shivers down your spine. It's a testament to his attention to detail, his dedication to your pleasure evident in every movement, every touch.

His hands paw at your thighs as he loses himself in worshipping your mound. It’s tang on his taste buds only driving him further into madness - he can’t believe how lucky he is in this moment, so much so that he is grinning like a Cheshire cat as he continues to devour you.

“Jaeyun-” you breathe out sharply, the air in your chest leaving your body as he licks fast stipes up to your clit, focusing his attention where he knows you want it most. It is truly remarkable how well he knows you despite only knowing you from afar until now.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he mumbles into your cunt, burying his face into you as he laps up the juices that are leaking from your hole, “I’m here to please you, please let me.” Jaeyun doesn’t mean for it to come off as begging but he is so desperate for you he can't help it; and when your thighs tense slightly at his words, he thinks perhaps you want him to plead with you.

You’re so used to being around men who think that they own you, that are superior to you, that as Jaeyun asks you to let him pleasure you, it's a refreshing change. His words, muffled against your wetness, carry a genuine desire to fulfil your every desire. You can feel the sincerity in his actions, the earnestness in his plea.

“I want you to make me cum, please, Jaeyun. I need it so bad,” you whisper into the hot atmosphere that surrounds you both. You’re close and he can sense it too and right now, that is all you care about. You need to feel that satisfaction rush over you, your body is aching for it because it knows Jaeyun can bring you to that peak.

Whimpering below you, Jaeyun loses all sense of control and picks up his pace, his fingers now circling your entrance before slipping into you, scissoring you open in a mix of gentleness and roughness. He loves the idea of being able to touch you like this and make you release over his hand and tongue.

Nibbling at your clit is the final straw and you feel that tightness in your stomach and clench in your pussy as you cry out, cumming all over his face. The whites of your eyes come to the forefront as your entire body rolls and the wave of your climax consumes you like a tsunami. The grip you have on his hair tightens and you hold him in place, your body riding his face as his nose, tongue, and fingers work in tandem with you to help you ride out your high.

You don’t think you’ve cum so hard from just oral, these types of experiences being between you and your toys. Jaeyun is a man above the rest and you can’t wait to have more of him.

As he gently guides your leg back to the ground, his hands steady you as you tremble in the aftermath of pleasure. His thoughts wander, contemplating the possibility of lingering between your thighs for just a few more precious moments, coaxing yet another orgasm from your willing body.

For Jaeyun, the idea of bringing you to such heights of ecstasy is not just a source of pride but pure joy. The thought of surrendering himself completely to your pleasure fills him with a sense of fulfilment like nothing else. In a world where some might find embarrassment, he finds only bliss in the act of surrendering to his woman, to you.

Looking down at him, his eyes locking with yours past your heaving chest, you moan quietly at the sight of him; his hair dishevelled thanks to your hands, your juices over his face and lips which he wipes his fat tongue along to collect, and his eyes filled with pure adoration and lust.

You’re never going to be able to let him go.

Tracing a path of tender kisses along your body, his lips remain in constant contact with your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and sensation in their wake. With each gentle press of his lips, he conveys his adoration and reverence for every inch of you. It's a silent yet powerful declaration of his desire to explore and worship every part of your being.

Once he reaches your neck, he stops, nibbling softly at your nape. "God, you taste so good," he murmurs against your skin, his breath warm against your neck. "I could spend forever right here, just worshipping you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a delicious anticipation building within you at the thought of what's to come. You tilt your head slightly, granting him better access, silently urging him to continue his actions.

"I could lose myself in you," he continues, his voice husky with desire. "Every touch, every kiss, I want to claim every part of you for myself, even just for tonight.”

His honesty pangs in your chest because what if it is just for tonight? The probability of that is high and yet you don’t dare think about it, the revelation too upsetting for you to consider. So you push it down, committing yourself to enjoy this, regardless of the what-ifs. Having him now is all that matters and you’re going to relish in it.

Grabbing his t-shirt, you yank it off his body and kiss him desperately, your arms finding home around his neck as you waltz him to your bedroom, thankful for your familiarity with your apartment as you weave around coffee tables and decorative baskets.

As you reach the bedroom, a primal need surges between you, an urgency and determination unlike anything you've experienced before. With a sense of raw desire, you turn him around and push him onto the bed, your actions driven by an irresistible force that neither of you can deny.

Straddling him, you see his face light up in excitement and glee as you initiate the next move. Jaeyun loves it when his eagerness is reciprocated and by the way your thighs are squeezing each of his sides and your hands are cradling his face as you kiss him messily, he feels so wanted at this moment.

His hands eagerly grasp at your blouse, urgency guiding his movements as he tears it open and discards it aside. With unbridled desire, he buries his face into your chest, kissing and nibbling at the exposed flesh above your bra. Fingers knead and lift your tits, enhancing the sensation as he revels in the intimate contact between skin and skin.

The heat between you intensifies and Jaeyun's ardour only grows stronger. His lips trail from your chest to your neck, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin, igniting a flurry of sensations that ripple through your body.

With a skilful touch, his hands explore the curves of your body, tracing the contours with a fervent hunger. Fingers dance over the fabric of your bra, teasingly tracing the edges before deftly unhooking it, revealing your breasts in all their glory.

“You’re a fucking dream, Sweetheart,” he confesses, knowing that you have, in fact, clouded his dreams some nights. “You always have been.”

Grabbing his chin gently, you lift his eyes to meet yours and smile fondly, showcasing your affection through your sparkling pupils. “You’re so pretty, Jaeyun,” you utter quietly as each syllable matches the thumping in his chest.

Jaeyun flushes red and smiles brightly, like you’ve just called him a good boy and he’s your golden retriever. What you don’t expect is for him to open his mouth just wide enough to poke his tongue out, asking for something.

It takes a moment for you to grasp his silent request, but once you do, your hold on his chin transitions to his jaw, gently urging it wider as you oblige, softly spitting into his waiting mouth. A soft whimper escapes his throat as his eyes flutter closed, savouring the intimate exchange with an fervour.

Emboldened by the connection between you, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his in a silent promise of more to come. His response is immediate, a soft moan escaping his lips as he eagerly presses himself against you, seeking to deepen the connection between your bodies.

You feel his clothed cock against your naked heat and suddenly the room is filled with explicit moans, both of you dry-humping one another like horny teens. It’s electric and you both want each other more than any destination or University degree, it feels like you’ve found your hearts true desires in the confines of this bedroom.

“Let me have you,” His plea resonates in the air, heavy with longing and urgency, as his fingertips caress every contour of your exposed skin, eliciting a cascade of goosebumps in their wake. "Please, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with desire, the intensity of his gaze locking with yours in an unspoken plea for surrender.

“If you let me have you,” you whisper into his mouth, ghosting your lips above his,

“Baby, you’ve had me for a lifetime.”

His response is without a moment of silence, followed by a deep kiss that ignites a fire within you both, drawing you into a passionate embrace. With a gentle yet possessive grip, he pulls you closer, his hands trailing down to caress the curves of your ass. The sharp sound of his gentle slaps mingles with your moans, echoing off the walls as pleasure courses through your veins.

As the heat between you reaches its peak, you break the kiss with a soft gasp, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a playful smirk, you slide your hands down to the waistband of his trousers, fingers deftly undoing the buttons as you tease him with each deliberate movement.

Jaeyun watches you with a mix of anticipation and desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he eagerly awaits your next move. You climb off him for a moment as you peel his trousers and boxers down his legs, revealing his hardened length, aching for your touch. His arousal is evident and his cock is thick and twitching with its need to be buried inside of you.

Discarding the trousers aside, you meet his gaze with a wicked grin, your desire mirroring his as you hover above him. Your eyes sparkle playfully as you slink forward, your lips caress his teasingly, then trail kisses down his chest, creating a path of fire in your wake. Jaeyun's breath hitches as he watches you with rapt attention; his anticipation grows with every second.

Your fingertips follow enticingly down his thighs as you approach his waist, sending shivers of expectation coursing through his body. You gently but firmly guide his legs apart so that you can lower yourself between them for better access.

Grinning slyly, you approach him closely, your breath ghosting over his skin as you torment him with every instant that passes. Then you take him quickly into your mouth and engulf him with a hunger that leaves him panting for air.

Jaeyun surrenders to the thrilling sensation as waves of pleasure rush over him; his hands tangling in your hair as he leads you, lost in the depths of bliss. In this moment, there is nothing but the two of you, bound together by a passion that knows no bounds.

However, as good as your mouth feels, and fuck does it feel good, Jaeyun needs to be enveloped by your warm walls, he craves it like an addiction, and he genuinely thinks that once he gets a taste of you wrapped around him, he might just have to check himself into pussy anonymous.

Using his grip on your hair, he yanks you up off of him, causing confusion to overcome your expression. “Baby, if I’m not fucking you in the next 3 seconds, I might just die,” he laughs but he is serious, you can tell he is by how he’s already grasping his cock with his freehand and holding it in position for you to sink onto it.

So that is exactly what you do. You straddle him one more, lining him up at your entrance before slowly easing your way onto him. With each inch, you take your time, allowing yourself to adjust to his size, the sensation of him filling you completely overwhelming your senses. Jaeyun's hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you as you slowly sink down onto him, his breath catching in his throat as you finally envelop him completely.

Due to his thickness, you take your time to adjust to his size, grinding on him to open you up a bit more, not that any of you mind because as you do so, the tip of his dick is brushing inside you blissfully.

"You're taking me so well, beautiful," Jaeyun says, his voice hoarse with need, his hands tracing patterns of heat over your skin. "I was made for you.”

You begin to ride him while moaning gently beneath your breath. At first, your motions are shallow as you slowly elevate your hips. Each motion causes a surge of pleasure to course through your body, sparking a fire that grows more intense with each passing second.

Jaeyun's hands are firmly grasping your hips, directing you as you find your rhythm. His own groans blend with yours to create a symphony of want. Your walls are squeezing his thick cock so tight that each time he lifts you higher, the bell of his cock snags on your entrance, trapping him inside.

“You’re bouncing on my cock so well, Y/N,” he compliments as he kisses you gently on your bouncing tit. His heavy breath mists over your heart and it clenches along with your core. He’s so beautiful and adoring that he has ruined every other man for you.

As the ecstasy consumes both of you, Jaeyun's control starts unravelling and his primitive impulses begin to take over as he loses himself in the intensity of the moment. He jackhammers himself further into you with each thrust and he lets out a howl, completely losing all control of his movements. His thrusts become more frantic and more desperate as he hears your cries of pleasure.

The rhythm of your fucking frenzy transforms into a symphony of desire, the sound of his hips meeting yours echoing off the walls as he pounds into you with unrestrained passion. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

You cling to him desperately, lost in the overwhelming intensity as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure that consumes you. With each powerful buck of his hips, you feel yourself hurtling towards the brink, the sensation building to a fever pitch as you both race towards the climax that awaits.

"F-Fuck, Jaeyun!" you groan out, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation as you hug his head between your cleavage, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation coursing through your body.

Jaeyun is completely lost in the moment, his focus solely on the incredible feeling of being enveloped by you. He bites down harshly on one of your breasts, leaving a bruise as a mark of his passion, eliciting a cry of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain from you.

Taking control, Jaeyun’s only objective now is to feel you cumming on his cock, so he picks up the pace, bringing your body down to lie on top of him as he sinks into your mattress. Using his legs as anchors, he thrusts into you with an otherworldly speed, each movement driving you closer to the edge.

“Come on, Sweetheart, cum all over me,” he grits out, all of his focus on his hips.

The slapping of your skin and how his tip is puncturing your cervix is enough to tumble you over, a roar leaving your mouth as you come undone just as he wanted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaeyun!” You can’t form coherent sentences because to put it plainly, the dick is too good. It’s rendered you dumb and the only thoughts in your mind are; Jaeyun, cock, feels good, cumming.

Smiling brightly beneath you, Jaeyun marvels at your face as you let the pleasure take over. Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is open wide with short breaths escaping, your chest is panting against his and he can feel your heart race against his.

“That’s it, baby. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” Jaeyun whispers earnestly.

As you start to relax into the aftermath of your second orgasm of the night, he picks up the pace again, now content to seek his own release. Clawing down your back, he holds your hips still and batters into your sensitive and spent pussy, knowing that the beating it just took must have left you sore, so he needs to cum quickly.

You aid him in his quest for release, showering him with kisses across his chest, neck, and face, your droopy eyes still gleaming with adoration despite the ache that lingers within you. "Jaeyun, you're fucking me so good," you whisper gently into his ear, nibbling at his lobe in a gesture of encouragement that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through him, his length throbbing inside of you in response.

Empowered by your words, Jaeyun's rhythm becomes even more intense, his movements propelled by an innate urge to reach his climax, which between your tight cunt and your seductive words, it doesn’t take him long.

"I'm cumming, fuck, I'm cumming, Baby," Jaeyun mewls, his voice strained with desperation as he tries to push you off of him, but you hold him firmly in place, unwilling to let him escape the imminent release.

With a whispered plea, you encourage him to let go completely, to surrender to the intoxicating pleasure that courses through both of you. "Cum inside me, Jaeyun. Let me feel you," you urge, your voice filled with lust and longing.

He shakes his head and tries to roll over to pull out, yet you remain headstrong and unyielding to his attempts of escape. “I have the implant, Jaeyun, you can cum in me as much as you want.”

The lawyer in you is furious that you’re letting him bust a nut inside of you due to your irresponsibility, but the happy and content you is relishing in the fact that any second, you’re going to be filled with Sim Jaeyun’s seed.

Looking deep into your eyes, he sees you’re serious and huffs out a laugh of joy. It's not that he didn't want to experience the ecstasy of releasing inside you - ask the stars, he did - but he also understands the importance of being responsible.

However, as you resume your rhythm, bouncing on his cock and firmly holding him down by his chest, any lingering hesitation evaporates. He becomes consumed by the overwhelming pleasure, his primal instincts driving him to chase his climax with an intensity that matches yours.

“Cum for me, Jaeyun, please,” you beg, wanting nothing more at this moment.

Coaxed by your words and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him, Jaeyun succumbs to the irresistible urge to release deep inside you. With one final, powerful thrust, he empties himself into you, his hips stilling as he rides out the waves of his high.

"Fuck, Baby, fuck I'm cumming, don't stop."

The sounds that escape his lips are a symphony of pleasure, soft yet needy, low but whiney, a perfect embodiment of every fantasy you've ever entertained. As you massage his chest and shoulders, soothing him down from his orgasm, his features are painted with bliss and love, a smile mirroring your own as he gazes at you with adoration.

"You're amazing, truly out of this world, Y/N L/N," Jaeyun huffs out, his voice filled with reverence and admiration.

Gently moving you off him, he guides your head to the pillow before hovering over you, peppering your lips with affectionate kisses. Finally, he settles on top of you, his head resting against your chest, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat calming him instantly.

Resting his chin in the valley between your breasts, Jaeyun's touch is gentle as he reaches up, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. There's a glimmer of something in his eyes, a silent contemplation that leaves you wondering what he's about to say next.

For a fleeting moment, you fear he might choose to end the encounter, bidding you farewell with a polite smile and a promise to call. But to your surprise, he does the opposite.

"Come with me, Y/N," he says, his voice soft yet filled with determination.

Stunned, you feel your chest tighten as you replay his words in your mind, each repetition only adding to the disbelief that swirls within you. There is no way he is asking you this when this is the first time you’ve really spoken to one another. He might as well be asking a blind date he’s just met to leave with him.

"What?" you manage to utter, blinking at him in shock.

For Jaeyun, however, there's no hesitation. In his heart, nothing has ever felt more right. He's harboured feelings for you for so long that now, with you in his arms, he's determined not to let you slip away so easily, even if that means proposing a notion that can be deemed outlandish.

"To Malta, to everywhere you want to go," he continues, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "Come with me."

You stay silent, nervously biting your lip, there isn’t much you can say, your inner battle between your head and your heart make it difficult to hear anything clearly.

Noticing your silence, he offers you a gentle smile and grabs one of your hands, kissing your palm gently. “Y/N, you’re miserable here, I can feel it. You’ve practically said it yourself,” he argues with you even if he cannot hear your turmoil, “Think about it; you come with me, experience everything you’ve ever wanted, study Immigration Law at one of those Open Universities if you want, or do literally anything else that makes you happy.”

You shake your head. "I'm not miserable, Jaeyun."

“Then tell me you’re happy.”

Silence ensues. A profound quietness fills the space because...you can't. You can't fabricate happiness. Are you content with your life? Undoubtedly. But true happiness eludes you. Until he posed that question, until you stood eye to eye with him, you had mistaken contentment for fulfilment, believing that your family and friends held the key to your happiness, that working hard to get to the top of your law firm was all you could want. But you aren't truly happy.

“Y/N, I came here for you,” he admits, his voice just above a whisper.

“What do you mean?” you ask, confusion palpable in your manner.

“I was supposed to be leaving the UK straight to Malta. I had my bags packed and ready to go and then I got your message on Instagram. Before I could even reply, I was changing my flight to come home to see you. I just…I couldn’t let the chance of seeing you pass me by,” his voice quivers with raw emotion as he speaks, his grasp on your hand tightening, “Do you know how many times I’ve hovered over that stupid send button, desperate to reach out but was too scared to? When you got that letter and messaged me about it, I knew this was my only shot and I couldn’t waste it.”

Jaeyun, deep down, is still the scared teenage boy who wrote you that letter. You can see him fighting himself, terrified that as he pours his heart out to you that it’ll be a disaster, but he has spent so long contemplating what life could have been had he just plucked up the courage that right now, he’s powering through his insecurities to try and reach your heart.

You sit up, intertwining his fingers in yours as a form of reassurance. “Did you come here to see if I would come with you?” you query, the tone of your voice light despite the heaviness of the subject.

"No, I came here because I wanted to see you and...to see if I could find some closure for teenage me," Jaeyun begins, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. The nakedness of both of you both being and soul amplifies the vulnerability that envelops you. "But I can't bear the thought of losing you again."

"You don't really know me, Jaeyun," you counter, not with hostility but with a sense of realism.

How could he be so sure he wants you by his side when he knows you as far as he could throw you? Sure, you have both connected in a way you didn’t know was possible in the past 7 hours, and you have in some way known one another for years, but you don’t know each other. Not enough to leave the country with him…right?

With a sigh, Jaeyun gently strokes your hair, his gaze softening with affection. "I do know you, Y/N. I see you for everything you are, I always have," he insists, his voice now infused with unwavering determination. “I don’t know if I love you the same way I did ten years ago, we’re both different people. But I want the chance to find out, I want the chance to fall in love with you as you are right now.”

You stare into his eyes, contemplating your future. You could stay here and go about your life as is, sitting in a swimming pool of ‘what could have been’, forced to see bosses who could never give you the time of day, or you could follow Jaeyun, explore the world and let your hair down, meet new people and enjoy everything that life is supposed to be. Pragmatically, you have enough savings to get you by and worst case, you work shitty jobs in beautiful cities.

There is nothing holding you back except yourself.

With a beaming smile, you nod a silent promise to him. “Can we go to Venice?”

Jaeyun's eyes widen in surprise at your request, a flicker of disbelief dancing in their depths. But as he takes in the earnestness in your gaze, the longing for adventure and new beginnings, his heart swells with a profound sense of gratitude.

"Venice, huh?" he echoes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's do it.”

The words hang between you, laden with the promise of excitement and possibility. You leap forward and kiss him, pushing his back onto the mattress once again, enjoying the moment with him, knowing it’s not the end but the beginning of future you.

perm taglist: @immortalvee @snoopypupp @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @pockettwinzz @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @emi-en @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #jake x reader #jaeyun x reader #aj writes #enhypen x reader

2K notes · View notes

hungharrington · 8 months

Text

a little less conversation, a little more action, please

[rings bell frantically] CALLING ALL PPL WHO HAD BAD SEX EXPERIENCES!!! if that’s you, this is for u :D ! this has been in the drafts 4 months and i’m excited to set it free! enjoy! 8k words, fem!reader, oral (f receiving) MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

You think you might be the only person your age in the whole of Hawkins who doesn’t seem to get the hype.

Couples have been caught all over in the act. At the drive-in cinema, in the back of the cinema, hell, even beneath the bleachers at school — tongues down each other's throats and pants around their ankles, so caught up in each other that they don’t care about consequences. That it’s that good, that it’s worth the risk.

Sex.

You just don’t get it.

Once upon a time, one boyfriend ago, before you’d ever experienced it, there had been an inkling of eagerness within you. Curiosity twined in with piqued interest, you wondered eagerly about when you’d find someone who’d show you all about why sex got its reputation.

And then you had it— with Samuel Cosgrove in his twin bed when his parents were out of town, 3 weeks into dating him. Your expectations crumbled.

You decided quickly that everyone must be lying if that was what you were supposed to be looking forward to. It wasn’t… sexy. You didn’t feel sexy having it either.

It only left you feeling somewhat awkward and a bit foolish, with Samuel trying to ruck your shirt up even though you had asked to keep it on. Embarrassment crept in easily at how you seemed to be half a step behind him the whole time, not quite warmed up, not quite sure if this was the mood, not quite ready to take all your clothes off.

The springs on his bed were loud and squeaked with every shift of weight. The whole thing sort of hurt more than anything.

You chalked it up to the first time, dredging together your hopes even as they rapidly deflated inside you, cemented by Samuel’s sloppy kiss that missed your mouth and landed wetly on the corner of your lips when he finished.

His sweat stuck to your skin and you didn’t feel sexy, or good, or relieved or anything else the dozen Cosmo magazines under your bed promised you would.

Next time, you said to yourself. You had even confided in your close friend, admitting to the underwhelming experience, and asked quite plainly when it ‘got good’.

“The first time always sucks!” She’d assured you, her voice a hushed whisper over the diner table.“Trust me, the first, like, three times totally suck.”

You didn’t mean to but, subconsciously, three became the number to reach— get through the first three terrible times, and… all would be peachy in paradise.

And so when the next time was… underwhelming, you weren’t exactly surprised. Worse, was how it wasn’t anything Samuel did but what he said that stuck with you long after he’d drifted off on your sheets. Lying in the cradle of your hips, Samuel had traced his hand up your legs and then frowned, yanking his hand back. You had startled, propping up quickly to ask him what it was.

“You’re spiky,” he said, chuckling in a mean way. You could feel your chest ache pathetically at his words and you instinctively tried to curl your legs in, wanting to hide them away. So what if they were? It was the middle of winter and he’d surprised you, showing up at your window to sneak in.

When the fourth time happened and disappointment weighed heavy on you again, you deduced the truth. Sex was some big scam- some stupid joke that everyone was in on and just pretending to enjoy.

It was easier to blame sex if only so you didn’t blame yourself. But… it niggles in the back of your brain, a line-up of indisputable facts that all point to the same thing. That, maybe sex isn’t the problem — but you are.

And, look, it’s not really a problem when you’re not dating or seeing anyone.

… Enter Steve Harrington.

Admittedly, Steve was not someone you thought you would ever date. Or maybe it was the other way around, that you thought that Steve would ever date you.

His reputation as a bit of a player was as far from something you were interested in, especially considering your feelings towards sex, but… he had sort of proven you wrong every chance possible.

One month of dates and it’s been no more than holding hands and kisses on cheeks. You’ve kissed him properly, of course, once or twice, but lest you give him the wrong idea, they hadn’t been much more than a quick kiss. Steve still seemed to glow afterward, no matter what.

It made you feel good. Safe. Warmed you to know he was happy with whatever affection you felt ready to bestow, and never pushed for more.

You could tell he wanted it. It was hidden in the flex of his fingers and even the not-so-subtle adjusting of his pants when he’d invited you over for a dip in his pool. You’d shown up in your bathing suit— and it was the most amount of skin Steve had ever seen from you and it did not go underappreciated. He had been touchy, hands skirting up your sides, but still respectful.

And strangely enough, you find yourself… wanting it too.

Wanting for his touch, thinking about letting your own hands wander across his skin to find what makes him sigh, makes him groan in pleasure, what might make him whine. It surprises you, the ferocity of your eagerness, how it presses your thighs together tightly and licks pure arousal up your spine — even when Steve’s not even trying.

(He was, you just didn’t know it. Steve knows exactly when girls seem to be looking at his arms and he’s unashamed to say he will flex his muscles and pretend he hasn’t. Robin has caught him doing this several times.)

And today has been nothing short of wonderful.

A balmy Saturday which you found yourself swept up in Steve’s company over at his house, laziness fuelled by the golden sun rays of the day.

You weren’t even doing anything in particular, just enjoying being near each other. You had stretched out on a pool lounger with a book in your hand for the most part and it was with giddy delight that Steve seemed more than chuffed to just lay beside you, sizzling in the sun and then occasionally cooling off in the pool.

Which is a spectacle all in itself.

The sight of his chest gives you one or two steamy ideas, especially as it drips with water when he pushes up on the edge of the pool. His biceps bulge deliciously as you peer over the edge of your book, not as subtlety as you might think. You honestly don’t even mind if he catches you staring, not when this is your view.

Your eyes trace the sparkling drops of water as they roll down his chest tantalizingly slow, through the chest hair between his pecs, down, down, trailing down his happy trail— fuck, okay, he totally caught you staring.

Your eyes dart back up to his face to find Steve’s already looking at you, his eyes holding a playful mirth to them. His smile looks just a little bit cheeky. Bastard.

Water splatters on the tiles where he walks as he pads over to collect his towel bunched on the end of the lounger beside your own.

“Good book?” He asks sweetly.

He says it as he scrubs the towel over his face, drying it off and then starting on his hair— he gives it a quick rub over rapidly so that when he pulls the towel away, his hair is sticking up in every direction. He holds the towel to his chest and gives his head a quick shake, like a dog, shaking out the extra water.

When he looks up at you again, beginning to towel dry his bare chest, you realise you haven’t even attempted to answer his question.

“Book.” You echo. Steve chuckles a little bit and it kickstarts your embarrassment, finally remembering to say something else. You hold the book up to gesture with it, “Yes! It’s good, it’s…”

Steve’s resumed drying himself and you find your words leaving you as the towel drags down his tummy, leading your eyes with it. Your mouth feels suspiciously dry. Want. You want him.

“It’s…?”

He’s teasing you again. You startle, wondering if he’s purposefully trying to put on a sensual towel-drying show for you. You’re surprised to find you’re actually glad that he is.

It feels like another subtle way to affirm all his affections for you without all of the touchiness you’ve yet to reach with him — come and get me, it’s like he’s saying, if you want.

You snap your book shut. “It’s too hot to be reading, I think.”

Steve frowns in his worry and steps forward, closer to you. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead lightly. “You feelin’ too warm? Y’gotta careful being out here too long if you aren’t gonna swim.”

He sounds on the concerned side but there’s a touch of cheek in his voice too, like he knows why you haven’t turned the page for the last 5 minutes. It stokes the firey feeling that’s beginning to burn in your gut. A smile curls at your lips and you huff a little laugh, leaning back and batting his hand away from your forehead.

“Yes, mom.” You jest, hand falling back onto the lounger. You lean back onto it to get a better view of him. “I’m not too hot.”

Steve grins. “Oh, I would say the opposite. You are, in fact,” He leans in closer, one hand coming up to push some hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, fingertips on the edge of your jaw. “Very hot.”

You couldn’t stop your reaction if you tried— which you do try, some sputtering cough with a duck of your head as you feel your body flush hotly at his words. His forwardness is something you’re still getting used to.

Just as you’re about to stumble through a poorly constructed sentence, Steve saves you— reaching over to grab his rumpled t-shirt and pulling it over his head. A small, disappointed, part of you wilts. You catch yourself from being so obvious, scooping up your bookmark and stuffing it in a random page.

Steve offers his hand out for you to take. “C’mon, we both need some water I think.”

You ponder if there’s a second meaning to his words as you trail along beside him, letting him lead you back through the sliding glass doors that open to the kitchen with your intertwined hands. Steve gives your hand a quick squeeze before he drops it to open the fridge, peering inside. You lean back against the counter, arms folding loosely over your front and allow yourself to look at him.

Your boyfriend. It sounds even a bit strange in your head and you know if you tried to say it aloud, it would get caught on the way out, tripping over your teeth. Calling him your boyfriend cements all those expectations you worry so much about… even though, not-so-secretly, you revel in the fact thats he’s your boyfriend.

“Thinking hard over there, I can see,” Steve comments teasingly and you blink, realising he’s already looking at you. He must have asked you a question and you missed it.

“What?”

Steve laughs a bit, pink lips pulled into a slight smirk. He shakes the bottle in his hands a little bit, bringing your attention to it. “Did you want to try some of this? I think it’s sparkling and…”

He trails off, pulling the bottle closer to his face to scan over the front of it. You can’t help but think the furrow in his brows as he reads is adorable. He hums, obviously not finding what he’s after, and flips the bottle over.

“…raspberry flavour?” He finishes, looking up at you, brows raised. He gives a little shrug. “That sound nice?”

You think about it for a moment and then shake your head. Steve laughs in agreement and places ii back in the fridge, some mumble about his mom leaving it here the last time she visited home. He turns back to the fridge still rummaging. “Okay, anything in particular you want?”

You are thirsty but… your stomach swoops as you realise it’s for something else altogether. If you want it though, you’ll have to ask.

“Maybe, a kiss?”

Steve freezes for an instant, then he whips around like he’s not entirely sure he’s heard correctly. The fridge door clatters loudly and he quickly grabs it, stopping the rattling bottles and looking mighty flushed when he shoots you a grin.

“A kiss?” He checks. He lets go of the fridge doors to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, too aware of his own unsubtle eagerness. “I heard that right, didn’t I?”

A nervous chuckle scrapes out your throat but you nod. You uncross your arms but can’t settle them, crossing them again nervously as Steve comes closer. His brown eyes scan your face intently, searching to make sure he’s getting every signal right.

When you smile assuredly, Steve sighs in relief and his shoulders drop an inch. He smiles too, his hand reaching up to hold your faces cupping your cheek. His strokes across your cheekbone as he talks. “Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think, maybe, you just weren’t into kissing me.”

Then he leans in— and you hold your breath without meaning to.

The thing is, Steve is a good kisser. A very very good kisser and even your strange gaspy noise as you try to remember to breathe is not enough to ruin the kiss. His plush lips capture yours and have you feeling as hot as the day, a heat blooming in your chest and spreading like wildfire. Your fingers flex at your sides.

You push up on your toes without even thinking, to steal more of his touch, and when Steve breaks the kiss, you’re embarrassed to find yourself chasing his lips. You clear your throat and avert your eyes, sinking back down— embarrassed at showing how much you’d melted under a single kiss.

You just don’t realise how it looks to Steve.

“You do… right?”

Your head pops up, eyes widening as you try to comprehend his question.

“Like… kissing you?” You ask meekly, more embarrassed that he’s asking for confirmation. Embarrassed that you’d somehow been overly eager and also convinced him of the opposite in one kiss. God, maybe there is something wrong with you.

“Yeah.” Steve nods, pulling back a little further from you— like he needs physical space in case you say something absurd like ‘no.’

Your hands react faster than your mind, reaching to grab his shoulders to stop him from putting space between you.

“Yes!” You say loudly. You try to rein in your embarrassment for his sake, swallowing your nerves which feel thick and swollen in your throat. “Yes, I like kissing you. It’s just, I’m… I’m worried.”

How do you say this? How can you explain that you’ve been so afraid of your kisses going a few steps further because then- then when things get heated and Steve’s expecting things, you have to explain that — that what?

That you’re not really sure if you even like sex, or maybe that it just doesn’t seem to work for you or — or that there’s probably just something wrong with you that means you can’t figure out how the hell to relax and enjoy sex- and that it’s not his fault but probably totally yours but—

“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve cuts into your spiralling thoughts, having seen the dilemma spilled across your face. “Stop thinking what you’re thinking and just, like, take a breather.”

He places his hand on his chest and mimes a deep inhale. You copy him without thinking, chest rising and falling in sync with his, unable to look at him for a moment. When you find the courage to dredge your eyes up to his face, his eyes are soft and his brows have knitted together in concern.

“Good.” He praises, hand falling off his chest to rub gently at your arm. “Okay, now instead of doing all that worrying up there just… tell me what’s worrying you. Please?”

Part of you want to huff and hide, to make him really pry so you know that he means it. It’s dramatic, you know — especially because he’s being so good at communicating. He’s asked outright. You try to put the words in the correct order.

“Just… we haven’t— I haven’t kissed you a lot because I’m worried about what it might lead to.” You say quietly, eyes back to avoiding his gaze. You stare at his chest, the tuft of chest hair peeking out, and do your best to swallow the knot in your throat.

“And I— I don’t want to disappoint you,” you admit, frustrated at how a familiar sting burns at the back of your eyes. “But I- just, in the times I’ve gone that far and— and slept with someone, I didn’t… I just didn’t like it. I didn’t enjoy it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, proclamation out in the open, and try to take a deep breath— just like Steve had instructed mere moments ago. Courage gathered, you open your eyes and peer up at him again.

“Oh,” Steve breathes. You can nearly see the cogs turning in his head, his eyebrows twitching as he takes in what you’ve said and what it means for the two of you. “Oh, well that’s okay. I mean, if you didn’t want to I would never—“

“—That’s not the thing.” You interrupt. “I want to. I do. I just…” Your voice trails off, taking on a trembling whisper as you say the thing you’ve yet to say aloud yet, for fear of speaking it into existence. You can’t quite look at him, eyes focused on the kitchen tiles instead.

“I think it’s me. I think— I’m worried there’s something wrong with me.”

Your words hang in the air for a moment and Steve feels his worry shift into something deeper, something closer to devastation, as he realises how deeply you believe what you’ve said.

You genuinely think there is— even thinking it makes him want to scoff aloud. He forces himself to focus on consoling you here and now, instead of riling himself up with thoughts of whatever— whoever lead you to your immense self-doubt.

“Well, there’s not,” Steve says plainly. Like there’s no room for discussion— his hand drifting down your arm to gather your hands in his own. They get swallowed, his hands huge when compared to your own.

“There’s nothing wrong— you- you could never disappoint me in that way.”

Your eyes lift from the ground to his face, desperate to see if you can see the truth in his words. He can tell- fuck, he can already read you so well.

“Honest,” He insists, giving your hands a quick squeeze. “I promise you, okay? I- if I was disappointed over something like that it would be- that would be such a dick move.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first.” You mutter bitterly.

The words slip out without entirely meaning to; you aren’t trying to start a pity party but how are you supposed to explain why you think the way you do? How can you explain why you’re so worried about taking it further? Deep down, you know he deserves to know.

Steve’s eyes widen for a moment, your words sinking in and cutting as they go. He doesn’t want to think about you sleeping with other people, for all the jealous reasons, but mainly because everything he’s learned today is that nobody has taken proper care of you.

It twists his heart thinking of some fucking idiot not taking his time with you, not getting you comfortable— so that you get to this point, embarrassed, avoiding his eyes, and so entirely convinced that you’re the problem.

“Look,” Steve says softly. His hands squeeze yours again and he tries to think of how best to say this. “If we never sleep together, I don’t care.”

That catches your attention, your head jerking up to look at him — what? That has never even been an option with dating someone. Not in your mind, at least. You find yourself reeling, fumbling for words but Steve just keeps talking.

“If you don’t wanna, I don’t wanna,” Steve shrugs, like that’s all there is to it.

“There’s nothing wrong if it’s not really your thing.” Another squeeze to your hands. You look up at him, aware you must look a picture of bewildered — there were a thousand ways you imagined this conversation going and this was not one of them.

A smile pulls on his lips as he chuckles a bit, eyes falling to your conjoined hands. “Hell, for all we know I’d add to your disappointing experiences.”

You laugh quietly but it’s saturated in fondness. He’s taking jabs at himself to make you feel better.

“Hardly likely, considering the rumours I’ve heard about you,” You murmur lowly. You find it in yourself to squeeze his hands back, peering back up at him. Steve’s brows rise and he grins.

“Oh? And just what rumours are we talking about?” He teases.

“Shut up,” You say, no heat behind it in the slightest. Your chest is starting to feel lighter and lighter as the reality of his words sink in. “You know what they say about you.”

Steve grins wider. “That I slept with Mrs. Click just to pass her class?”

“What?” You wrinkle your nose at the horrid picture of your old English teacher with your boyfriend. “No! Did people really say that about you?”

Steve’s grin fades, edging towards jaded. He gives a soft sigh, tilting his head back an inch. “People say everything and it all means nothing unless it’s coming from the right person.”

He wriggles a hand free from your unaware tightening holding to brush his knuckles against your cheek tenderly. A piece of hair flops over his forehead, curling back upwards, and the buzz of cicadas fills the empty noise around you.

“So, I don’t know if some asshole told you or you just think that you’re wrong, but…” Steve inhales, his eyes darting between yours.

The brown in them is intense, holding you fixed beneath his heavy gaze. “If— just you said you want to so, we can try and- and we can go slow and I’ll stop the moment you want to, okay? For whatever reason.”

You feel a strange bubble of hope churn in your gut. It feels too good to be true.

“…You’re sure?”

“M’sure,” Steve nods. “Even for something as small as you don’t like the way my dick looks or—“

A laugh startles out of you and you shake your head. “I meant more about stopping but good to know anyways.” You pause a moment. “…Should I be worried?”

You’re teasing. Steve delights in it, his own voice slipping that little bit lower— his knuckles on your cheek swiping across, down your jaw, til he lingers near your neck.

“Why don’t you find out?”

The hunger in your tummy returns with a new heat, rivalling the day. You suddenly feel nervous again, a roll of nerves turning over, but this time it feels far closer to anticipation. The kiss you’ve been yearning to give him, hot and messy, burns up inside you and when you rise on your toes, Steve meets you in the middle.

Your lower back presses against the counter as Steve leans into you, his mouth slotted against yours. One kiss snowballs into another, and another, the fervency growing as you let yourself give into your desire. Your hands on his shoulders shift, trailing down to feel up the chest you’ve been gawking at all day.

Steve lets out a quiet grunt as your nails dig in and his other hand finds your waist, tugging you to press against his body — his other hand slides into your hair, clutching the strands loosely. You sigh into his mouth, nerves still alight beneath your skin but the way they buzz makes you feel good. Steve makes you feel good.

Right as his hand scrapes along your lower back, heading lower, you’re both startled by the loud beep! that sounds in the kitchen. At the same time you peer around him, Steve turns and gives a sheepish chuckle, seeing the fridge door still ajar from when he’d been fishing around inside.

He steps away from you, pushing the doors closed gently. Turning back, your chest swells with pride seeing the effect you’re already having on him; red lips, shiny with spit and a faint ruby colour in the apples of his cheeks. Steve smiles, boyish and charming.

“Do you wanna keep—“

“—yes.”

You’re not going to squander this chance, not going to waste the days' chemistry when there’s still that tiny worry niggling in the back of your brain that today is all a fluke. That Steve’s words might just be an offer, something else that wouldn’t be a first for you.

Steve grins. He holds out his hand and you intertwine yours with him, letting him lead you. Your stomach swoops as he takes you out the kitchen and heads for the stairs, checking back on you with a quick glimpse. You do your best to show him your excitement instead of your nerves. You’re not sure you succeed.

Squeezing his hand does the trick for a final reassurance. Steve resumes leading you up the stairs, taking a familiar turn towards his bedroom, beginning to talk softly as he does.

“Remember, anytime, anything you don’t like, just say the word.”

You both pause, standing in his room and you swallow the doubts that try to claw back up your throat. Giving a sly glance at him, you smile coyly and wiggle your hand out from his. Trailing backwards to his bed, you pretend to think about it, til your thighs hit the edge of the bed.

“Hmm… well,” You begin, a touch of sultriness dipping into your voice. “I don’t like… that you’re still wearing your shirt.”

Before you, Steve huffs a silent laugh, that handsome smile gracing his lips as he ducks his head. He doesn’t disappoint though, his arms reaching up behind his head to shuck his shirt off in one fluid motion.

He chucks it aside thoughtlessly and where it lands doesn’t even matter — your eyes are fixed on his chest. His bare chest that you’ve been given permission to properly ogle at. You swear you feel your mouth salivate a bit.

“Should've known this would go first, considering the way you were drooling outside,” Steve remarks cockily, folding his arms loosely. It makes his biceps bulge and you swallow again, this time nothing to do with nerves.

“I wasn’t drooling,” You defend weakly, beginning to fidget with the hem of your own shirt. “I was admiring, okay? There’s a difference.”

Steve saunters over slowly as you talk, steps slow and measured. He’s smirking by the time he’s before you, so close you can feel the heat of him. “Uh huh. Totally, sweetheart, I believe you. Need help with this?”

His hand has reached out, fingers pinching the same hem you’re fiddling with. You nod slowly, “Yes, please.”

Steve’s smirk fades into something sweeter and he grabs the hem with two hands, beginning to ruck it up gently, his eyes locked on yours — you raise your arms when it starts to get caught, holding your gaze to his until the fabric intersects. Your arms drop and you push away the urge to wrap them around your middle.

Steve drops your shirt much more gently than his own but his eyes are still entirely on you. There’s a shine of awe in them now, flicking up at down the newly exposed skin.

The intensity of his gaze makes you want to shy away but you chose bravery instead, reaching out to grab his side. Steve jumps, barely an inch, and before you even get a chance to question, he’s smiling. “Y’got cold hands, honey.”

He draws them up to his mouth, laying soft kisses across your knuckles. Heat flushes through you and you melt beneath it, lowering yourself back on the bed. Steve follows eagerly, still kissing at your hands. He kneels between your legs and when he finally drops your hands from his, it’s to reach out and cup your jaw.

“Keep breathing,” He murmurs quietly, eyes dancing in amusement. You hadn’t even realise you had been holding your breath. You realise it in one big exhale and this time, when you reach for him, you actually succeed in tugging him closer. You tumble backward into his sheets and Steve comes with you, his forearms planted on either side of you and his body pressed up against yours.

“I don’t like…” You say, continuing the bit from earlier, your voice quiet and still tinged with a poorly hidden nervousness. “That you keep waiting to kiss me.”

Steve’s brows hike up an inch but his smile hides his surprise easily, his entire face glowing a bit brighter. He looks fucking gorgeous bathed in the buttery sunlight, even though it’s just beginning to fade towards darkness behind the curtains.

You stare unabashedly up at him, marvelling at his features that are etched in with adoration for you. You follow down the strong line of his nose, along the soft arches in his eyebrows, the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that he has from smiling.

You study the swell of his cupids bow perched above his pink lips and each of the moles dotted all over your favourite face— and think to yourself it’s not fucking fair that he looks like this. Like he’s been carved from marble and cast in gold.

Thank God he’s yours.

He doesn’t disappoint you — his lips finding yours and kissing you deeply, his chest brushing your own. Your entire body seems to sigh at the touch, tingling with anticipation — you’ve been overdue for all these kisses for far too long and it seems once you’ve gotten started, it feels impossible to stop.

You kiss needily, your hands moving off his midriff to drift up to his jawline. You cradle it gently, your lips a little less gentle- you try to remember how to do this, how to nip at his lips teasingly, how to soothe them with your tongue.

Slowly, Steve’s body weight lowers onto you as he focuses more and more on figuring out what you seem to like. Time melts like candle wax and you feel as goopy as it too, all warm and pliable, softened by his kisses. Heat begins to simmer in your gut. You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing when Steve pulls away, his mouth cherry red and his face flushed.

His fingers slip beneath the strap of your bra, toying with it but nothing more. He checks over your face as he asks, “Wanna take this off?”

You nod, breathlessly. Up til now, it’s been easy to turn off your brain and let all your thoughts revolve around getting kissed absolutely stupid by Steve.

But as his hands work deftly beneath you, unclipping the strap of your bra and beginning to tug it down, you feel the first worry creep in — this is usually when your panties follow, then his boxers, and then the expectations. Even with all your enjoyment, you know that if he tries now, you won’t be ready.

Frustration bubbles up in your chest, mingling with your insecurity and you squirm a bit, trying to think of how to tell Steve without disappointing him.

You’re so sick of disappointing people for something you can’t seem to help.

Steve notices your squirming. His head shoots up to meet your gaze, a furrow back in his brow. “Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on?”

“I…” Words die on your tongue easily, a war happening inside your throat as you debate what to say. You like him— you really like him and don’t want this to end and… he told you he wants you to tell the truth.

“I don’t… I’m not—“ Your whisper climbs in volume alongside your frustration. “Steve, this isn’t working.”

The wrinkle between his brow deepens and it’s not a comforting sight. Steve shifts a bit, his hand moving from the straps of your bra up to your face. He pushes back a few stray locks of hair, eyes sincere.

“Not working?” He murmurs, “Baby, we’ve only just started.”

You blink up at him once, twice. Your mouth opens and then closes again.

You know that but you also know how this goes. Well, you think you know— so why do you suddenly feel so foolish?

“Oh.” You say shyly. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and try to ignore feeling like you’ve just ruined the mood.

Steve takes it all in his stride, nothing but a twitch in his furrows brows as he takes in your embarrassed expression. He leans down, and kisses your neck, then your collarbone. His lips trail down, down, slow and sensual. Your bra scraps down your arms, tossed aside absentmindedly.

“Sweet girl,” he whispers into your skin. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” You echo, a bit breathier as Steve's kisses scrape down your breast. Your nipples peak to attention.

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking— his hands paw greedily at your back which arches eagerly into his kisses. Steve drags his mouth off, beginning to mouth softly down your breast til his plush lips kiss at your sternum.

“M’sorry that nobody has ever taken care of you before.”

You squirm beneath him at his words, a warm flush washing through your body as desire spins up inside you. Steve continues as if he hasn’t turned your whole view inside-out— his hand shifting up to thumb at your nipple as he takes your nipple back between his lips.

“Steve…” you sigh out.

He’s kneading your body in just the right way, the sensitivity of your chest fuelling the pool of heat growing deep in your stomach. You feel your thighs clench together, hips shifting up instinctively. You haven’t been touched like this before and fuck, it’s a lot.

“I know, honey.” He says lowly, voice muffled against your skin. He suckles at your nipple and just nips at it, a flash of teeth, enough to make you arch further. Your eyes slip shut and you push your chest further out.

To your disappointment, Steve pulls back instead. Your eyes open, neck craning to look at him, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths.

“Y’tell me if there’s anything you don’t like, alright?”

Somehow, the heat in your gut flares that much hotter — knowing that there’s love behind every motion. You scramble for threads of courage and hold them tightly. Then you bend your legs until you can slide them around his waist, ankles crossing and tugging him closer. His cock, straining in his pants, presses flush against your core, and at the same time you inhale, Steve stutters out a groan.

“I’ll tell you.” You say, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to hold back your grin. It melts away as Steve shifts against you purposefully, one of his hands dropping to hold your hip. The hard length of him grinds against your cunt, catching the angle of your clit in a way that makes you mewl beneath him.

Steve kisses your breast again but your hands are already reaching for him— fingers cupping his jaw to tug him up. Your lips capture his and this time, when he rolls his hips into yours, the soft noise you make is swallowed in his kiss. It’s fervent, your kisses gaining speed and mess. You tighten your ankles and experiment with your grind and are rewarded with a jagged moan from Steve.

Faintly, you consider how it makes a little more sense now. That all those desperate motions of making out, rutting against each other, hot open-mouth kisses— fuck, if it was always like this, you get it. You feel like you’re on fire.

A breeze flutters the curtains across the room, the only indication of time outside your little bubble. It’s far too easy to get lost in the motions— building up your lust until you’re sure the cotton between your legs is soaked through. It feels silly but god, even though you knew this was one of the things making all those past times so terrible, you had just assumed that’s how it would always be.

The stickiness feels vulgar, your cunt pulsating with heat like you’ve never felt before. It just makes it all feel better though— the warm, hard heat of Steve’s cock, fitting snug between your folds.

A pause in the makeout to catch your breath. You’re huffing wildly and Steve takes the moment of his undistracted attention to focus on the shorts you’re wearing. He doesn’t ask verbally this time but as he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband, his eyes flash up to yours in question.

You wiggle your hips and Steve takes his cue, the fabric scraping against your skin as it slides down, down, down. To your surprise, Steve goes with them. He gets halfway down the bed, his head aligned with your belly, hands kneading at the flesh of your boobs before he halts.

“I wanna try something,” He says, looking up at you. He dots a quick kiss onto your skin as he does, not breaking eye contact. “And I think you’re gonna really love it.”

He drags out the word really, his voice low enough that it rumbles, nearly a purr.

“It involves a little bit of this.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your navel. He kisses nice and slow, the plushness of his lips scraping across the stretch of skin.

You shiver a little, feeling how your thighs part instinctively and Steve smiles wickedly, seeing the motion.

“A little—“ He travels further down, his hands sliding to hold the outside of your thighs. He grips the skin and urges it to spread wider— then takes a greedy fat lick along your inner thigh. “—of this.”

You squirm. It’s unnerving in the best way, having someone so dedicated to making you feel good— but Steve’s face betrays no hint of insincerity. In fact, if you had to guess, you’d say he even looks excited.

His large tan hands cover your hips, slender fingers curved atop your thighs to keep them pried open. You’re expecting the next question to be getting the final scrap of clothing off you— a mixture of nerves and excitement at the vulnerability that comes with taking them off.

He doesn’t though. Drawing a line with the tip of his nose, he nuzzles down from the inside of your knee to your thigh, the warmth of his breath fanning across sensitive skin. He kisses your cunt, once, soft. You twitch, a sweet noise pushing past your lips.

Steve does it again. This time, his lips part and you feel his tongue press through the soaked cotton of your panties — he kisses again, harder, moving over your clit with his tongue. This time you moan and feel your hips tip up to chase his mouth, surprising yourself.

Fuck, when have you ever been this wet before? The cotton between your legs is sticky and it only gets messier with Steve’s every lick. The duvet crinkles beneath you as you sigh and sink into it, the low throb of pleasure curling up in your gut.

“Steve,” you sigh his name like it’s a prayer.

He hums against your core, his fingers gliding beneath the elastic of your panties but not pulling them down just yet. His hot mouth drops lower, his nose pressing into you at the perfect angle. Your breathy exhale is lilted with moans.

“See?” He murmurs, so low you nearly don’t hear him.

“S’Nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Y’just needed…“ His fingers grip your panties and begin to pull and you aid him quickly with a lift of your hips. “…someone to take a little more care with you.”

Any fear of vulnerability is whirled far away; you need his mouth back on you, like, yesterday. Especially when Steve groans. Like the sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his cock ache. Your tummy heats further at the thought.

His hands re-situate, soothing up to your tummy before sliding back down to grasp the tops of your thighs again. He pulls them open wider.

Pure fire streaks through your nerves, a sweltering pleasurable burn twisting in your gut as Steve’s tongue licks through your folds in one bold stroke. Your hips try to twitch forward but his hands are already there, holding them down.

There’s one more pause, one soft curse of adoration, as his nose nuzzles along the soft skin of your inner thigh. You feel unbearably warm in his sheets, heat pulsating and dancing beneath your skin.

“Steve,” you whisper his name again, urging him gently. “Please.”

“I got you,” He murmurs in response. “You don’t gotta say please with me,” He hums lowly, then kisses right on your clit, languid and warm, his tongue swirling around it deftly. You cry out softly.

He drags his mouth off you and if you looked down, you’d see the soft sheen of your slick on his rosy lips. “I wanna give you everything you want.”

You gasp as he finally puts his mouth on you properly, pleasure dribbling through your core as he suckles on your clit. He’s killer with his tongue, twisting it and flattening it against your bud in a way that has you squirming. The sheets scrunch in your frenzied grip.

For the first time, you understand why pornos even sound like that— taking a moment to realise the whiney gaspy noise you’re hearing is coming from you.

“Oh god,” You whine prettily. “That’s— uh— fuck, that’s really good.”

Between your thighs, you hear and feel the moan Steve gives back. Your thighs are twitching, torn between trying to keep them apart or warm your boyfriend's ears. Your hips are moving, subtle grinds up into Steve’s face and he takes it all appreciatively. He sucks and slurps, tongue dragging down your folds to toy at your clenching hole— making you squeal.

“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back for a moment. His voice is doused in arousal. “You’re so wet.”

Heat plumes low in your tummy as he dives back in, a groan echoing from his throat. The coil in your gut tightens, winding tighter and tighter. Your chest heaves as your voice melts away until everything you say is a whimpery little “yes, yes, yes,” and Steve’s name.

His huge hands are still pressing your thighs apart but one shifts suddenly, barely noticeable in your mounting euphoria, until it’s tapping at your hand fisted in the sheets.

You lift your head, confused, and peer down at him.

It’s a mistake. His hand is resting on the bed in front of your own, propped up and fingers spread. It's clear he wants to hold your hand. Chest heaving and still lightly moaning, your eyes dart from his hand to his face — and that’s the mistake.

He’s fucking beautiful. Hair mussed, rosy-cheeked, and dark-eyed, Steve can only hold eye contact for a moment before his eyelids slip shut as he moans against your cunt. Fire blooms under your skin, coil turned tighter and together. He wants to hold your hand. Your fingers just manage to tangle with Steve’s, holding tight, as you tip over the edge with a cry.

It’s intense — jagged waves of pleasure that ride through every nerve in your body and have you nearly overwhelmed with how fucking good it feels. Incoherent babbling whines pour from your mouth. Your thighs lock up, beating Steve’s strong hold now that he’s down to just one hand, and close around his head. He moans in response, his tongue never letting up, licking and sucking at your cunt fervently.

And he holds your hand the whole way through.

You feel thoroughly flattened by the time your orgasm tapers off, your legs relaxing and flopping tiredly against the bed. Vaguely, you’re aware you should apologise for likely cutting off his oxygen flow for a good couple of seconds there but you’re too out of breath yourself to do so.

Your chest rises and falls and a sweet contentment settles into your skin. You feel happy, loved. Without meaning to, an awed laugh titters out of you.

Then another, and another. You can’t seem to stop laughing, a gleeful silly joy as you release his hand to bury your face in your own.

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. Then, slightly louder. “Holy shit, Steve.”

You hear him laugh and the sheets crinkle — and then he’s in your field of vision, hovering over you with an adoring grin on his face. His lips are still so pink and there’s a shine on his chin. He wipes it away absentmindedly, focused on you.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He says, genuine and not at all cocky. He settles down, one arm on either side of your chest. One of his hands sweeps over your face sweetly.

You nod, tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth to constrain your grin.

“Uh huh,” you say, voice all gooey. “I didn’t—“

You pause. “I thought— and then you— and Oh my Goddd.” You cover your face with your hands again, groaning exaggeratedly as you try to roll over and melt away into his bed sheets.

“See? I told you it wasn’t you,” Steve says, peppering little kisses where he can reach. He kisses your shoulder, along the side of your face. He coaxes you out gently, pressing your shoulder to roll you onto your back. You face him properly.

“There is nothing wrong with you.” He reminds you. You’ve never been so happy to be wrong. You nod, hair scrunching against the pillow behind you.

“Okay,” You say, with a small smile, finally believing it. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

Steve’s stare is glowing with fondness and the next moment, he’s lurching forward to press his mouth to yours. You kiss back greedily and lazily all at once.

He pulls back and you hate how the thought comes to you, unbidden; the smallest wrinkle creasing between your brows.

“But,” You begin, voice small. “That wasn’t sex though.”

Steve’s head tilts an inch, like an adorably confused puppy. “What do you mean? That was sex.”

“What? That was— that was like second base.”

Steve huffs a laugh, though not directed at you. His gaze shifts above your head as he chooses his words. “Uhh, sure, if we were still in high school. But even then, that’s still sex. We just had some sex.”

Stating it so plainly, you can’t help how it makes you giggle a bit. Steve rolls his eyes, even though you can tell he’s entirely endeared.

“We just had sex,” You repeat his words, eyes bright and grin growing. “And I really enjoyed it.”

Steve laughs loudly and steals a quick kiss from you. Holding up his hand, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just had sex high-five?” He jokes.

You slap your hand against his anyways, twisting your fingers to hold onto his hand as you let them fall to the bed. Steve beams, cuddling in closer, the tip of his nose nuzzling against your own.

Turns out, you might be starting to get the whole big deal around sex after all.

#uhm. basically don’t read into this #who minds a little (or a whooooole lot) of projection!#not me! :D #🧌…. part two?#steve harrington smut #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you #steve x you #steve x reader smut #steve harrington #jay writes

4K notes · View notes