#then i look up into the park and see that spotlight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nickynclark · 28 days ago

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The Psychology of Love and Loathing

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Enemies to lovers!

Word count: 7,584

Warnings: no use of y/n, reader goes by 'bunny', discussion of a case (nothing too far from usual Criminal Minds gore), reader has three PhD's (bet you didn't know that), briefly mentions readers mother committing su!cide, mentions of toxic parents, alcohol consumption, jealous! Reader, jealous! Reid, pet names (good girl, silly girl, baby, sweetheart, sweet thing), degradation, oral f! Receiving, like one line of oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls wrap it before you tap it), no mention of reader being on birth control, anal play, overstimulation, after care. If i missed anything let me know!

Author’s note: i’m so sorry im ovulating. This is porn w a shit ton of plot. We’re talkin WORLD BUILDING

MDNI BELOW THE CUT

You blink at the papers in front of you, checking once, twice, double checking three times to make sure what you're seeing is correct.

You were on a case in Texas, called in by local police after four bodies, two wealthy couples, were found shot execution-style and posed on different park benches throughout Amarillo. While at first, it seemed as though it was your average serial killer, the autopsy report showed that the gunshot wound was done post-mortem- all four victims were murdered by being forced to drink household bleach.

You looked down at the papers one more time, noticing that one man, Adam Gilman, cleaned houses of the wealthy, and he purchased a lot of bleach. Way more than needed to clean a few bathrooms.

You quickly dial Garcia, and she answers within the first ring.

"Ask and you shall receive."

"Garcia, what can you find out about Adam Gilman?"

You hear typing from the other end of the line before spewing information, "35-year-old white male, he grew up super rich until his dad pulled his college funding his senior year when his sister went to school to be a doctor. He started paying for her," She suddenly sucked in a breath, "It looks like he had to drop out. He was at Harvard Law. Spiraled downhill from there, sending you the files and address now."

"Thanks, Garcia!"

You rush into the room where the rest of the team is and run up to Hotch.

"Look at this! He fits the profile to a t!"

Hotch looks down at his tablet, and you feel eyes glance over to you, about to speak, but Spencer Reid bursts through the doors.

"Guys our unsub is Adam Gilman! He lives five minutes from here, and his job is on the way."

Hotch nods at you, acknowledging that you have the same information but Reid said it louder, "Let's go."

Since you joined the Bureau last year, Spencer Reid has been competing with you. Whereas he was thirty-three with three PhDs, you were twenty-five with the same amount. Of course, he got his when he was much younger, but he still seemed to overcompensate.

He was intimidated by you.

This wasn't the first time a situation like this had happened. It's almost like he had a radar for when you made a big break, and he wanted to steal the spotlight.

And not to mention he hates you for some reason.

Ever since your first week in the BAU, Dr. Reid has acted indifferent to you. You understand that change can be uncomfortable, but you have done nothing to deserve this cold shoulder.

On your first day, you strutted into the office dressed in a pair of black slacks, a black, v-neck blouse, and some hot pink pumps; being honest, you looked like you owned the place.

When Aaron introduced you to the team, you shook everyone's hand except Reid's.

"The number of pathogens passed through a handshake is staggering," he stated mater-of-factly while staring at your hand, "it's actually safer to kiss."

You laugh and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, "Although I appreciate the concern, a handshake is actually a sign of peaceful intentions. Soldiers would cover their swords on their left side and shake their right hand to show they mean no harm," you shrug, "but I understand the mysophobia."

He nodded at you, a glare suddenly hardening his features, "interesting."

He has refused to hold conversation with you, maintain eye contact with you, or be in the same room with you for an extended amount of time ever since.

He hates it the most when you're right.

After arresting Adam, the team desperately needed to interrogate him. He was denying all claims despite all the evidence against him. In fact, all he has said has been denials. Besides that, he didn't speak. He hadn't asked for a lawyer, hadn't shown any recognition to the couples, and hadn't said anything besides I've never seen those people before.

"We need to make him uncomfortable," Morgan says, "he's running this whole show. We gotta flip the tide."

Emily looks up from her Chinese takeout, laughing, "Let's throw Bun and Reid in there."

Your eyes widen, and you are suddenly incredibly red. Your face is on fire, and you start looking around panicked.

The team started referring to you as 'Bun' over the summer when you all went to a bar together. You accidentally had one too many drinks, and Derek said you were bouncing up and down the whole time.

"She's like a Bunny."

"Don't call me a Bunny!" You slur, "I'm mean. And vicious."

Penelope laughs at you, throwing an arm around your shoulder, "Alright, Bun. Let's go dance!"

Ever since that night, the nickname 'bun' stuck.

Although Emily suggested you and Reid distracting Adam as a joke, Rossi's lips pull into a smile, "That just might work."

Emily sets her food down, suddenly aware that she presented the first good idea so far, "we could dress them up some, make them look like a wealthy couple, and have them ask Adam some questions. It might make him mad enough to break."

Aaron looks at you and you gulp subtly, then he looks to Reid, "It's up to you."

You look at your feet, frowning, "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get this guy in jail."

Reid simply nods.

"Okay," Aaron says, "we'll go get the stuff."

You and Spencer remain in the small room while the others rush out to get the things you require for your transformation.

"Hi." Your voice comes out quiet.

"Hello." He responds blandly.

You suddenly realize this is the first time you and Reid have been in a room alone together, so you take the opportunity.

"What have I done to you?"

Reid's eyebrows shoot up at the confrontation "Huh?"

You roll your eyes, "ever since my first day you've avoided me. What did I do?"

He scoffs, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't." You sigh and run a hand through your hair, "I'm the only person on the team you practically refuse to talk to."

"I'm talking to you right now," he says as if that's a counterargument, "I talk to you all the time."

"Yeah, when you're forced to!" You say exasperatedly, "You know everyone on the team's birthdays, all except mine. You know their family situation because you've asked."

He shrugs, "I know plenty about you."

"How old am I?"

He looks into your eyes calmly, "You're twenty-eight."

"I'm twenty-five."

Emily suddenly bursts into the room, "There isn't anything for you guys in lost and found. You have to go on a shopping trip. Strauss said a 300 dollar limit."

You nod, "I assume that's just for clothes?"

"Yes," She answers, "Reid is going to wear Rossi's watch and a wedding band JJ's going to pick up. Both of you will wear a ring." She then looks to you, "We have a lot of jewelry for you to pick through."

You nod, standing and Reid rises next to you.

Emily tosses you some keys, "be back in an hour."

***

The ride to the mall was quiet. You didn't bother talking to Spencer as you drove, and he didn't bother speaking to you.

He also kept turning down the radio when you tried to turn it up. It was painfully awkward.

Once at the mall, you and Reid split up incredibly fast.

He ran to some men's warehouse, and you rushed to the women's section of a department store.

You quickly pick up a pair of black pinstriped slacks that hug your curves and a tight, white blouse. You finally grab a black, pinstriped blazer, and you head to check out.

On your way, though, a pair of stunning, emerald heels grabs your attention.

You walk closer to study them, and god do they look lavish.

If you weren't here for work, you would grab them in a heartbeat, but you were, and you had already met your price cap.

"Buy them."

You hear Spencer's voice from behind you, and you jump, grabbing your chest in fright.

"What?"

"Get them," he shrugs, "it's obvious you want to."

You laugh shyly, and he stuffs his hands into his jean pockets, his bag of clothes hanging around his wrist.

"I've already met my limit."

"Okay?"

You frown, studying him. He looks calm and relaxed. You tilt your head slightly, and he matches your movement.

No, that can't be right.

You cross your arms in a silent stare down, and he does, too.

"You're mimicking me."

He scoffs, "God, Bun, not everything I do is to spite you!"

Your eyes widen and you suddenly point at him, "You!"

"What?"

"You just called me Bun!"

His eyes barely widen, but he catches himself, staring straight ahead.

His foot stops tapping, "you're hearing things."

"And that's your tell!" You point at his foot, "You just mimicked me, called me 'Bun', and then lied about it!"

He rolls his eyes, "what size are you?"

"You're avoiding the question!"

"You didn't ask a question." He gestures to the heels, "What size?"

"Why?"

"Answer the question, Bunny."

His tone is stern, and you freeze under his stare.

"Nine."

He nods and grabs a box in that size.

"No!" You protest, "Don't!"

"I still had a hundred bucks left over, it's on the company's card."

You blink twice, confused as to why he's being so nice to you.

"Okay. I need to pay and I'm done."

He nods to you, and you both check out. He hands you the heels and you let out a quiet thanks while headed to the car.

***

When you got back to the station, the turnaround was dizzying.

You were shoved into a room to change, as was Reid.

After you changed, JJ came in and whistled.

"Sheesh, Bun, you look good!"

You laugh and straighten out your jacket, slipping on the heels Spencer bought you today.

"Are those new?"

You nod, "yeah, Spencer said he had some left in his budget."

She shook her head, "Reid must've bought those with his own money."

Your eyes widen, and she laughs, "C'mon, Bun. You need to look at jewelry."

You picked out a pair of dainty, diamond earrings, a matching necklace, and several expensive bracelets that had to be physically screwed onto your wrists.

Once standing in front of Hotch, Emily gave you the wedding bands JJ had picked up.

Yours was a gorgeous gold band with an emerald-cut diamond on top. It was simple, but, God, was it stunning.

You slipped it onto your finger and Reid slipped the simple golden band over his, his hands looking all that much better with the ring on it. It makes your mouth water just thinking about his fingers.

You quickly shake your head. No. You hate Spencer Reid. Nothing will change that.

Hotch gives you and Reid strict instructions on how to talk to Adam, and then he's sending you in.

"Sell it," Aaron says, "this might be our only shot."

You give him a curt nod, linking your arm with Reid and smiling as you walk into the interrogation room.

Spencer looks down at you with a look of passion you've never seen before. One that you aren't convinced could be fake.

As soon as you looked at Adam, you could tell there was something off. He was picking at the skin around his nails and chewing on the skin of his lips where they looked raw and painful.

As you sat down in front of him, Spencer was the first to speak.

"Who is this guy again, babe?"

You held back the shock in your face at the pet name as he put a hand on your thigh. You made a point to twist the wedding ring on your finger before opening the files in front of you.

"Adam?" You look up at the man in front of you, "are you Adam?" He nods, and you hum, "Who are you, exactly?"

Reid smiles and looks to you, "Play nice." He slides the files over to him, "Harvard law, that's impressive. Did you apply or did your father buy your way in?"

Adam's eyes narrowed, "I applied and got accepted. I was a prodigy."

You smile subtly, knowing you and Reid have already gotten him to show more of himself than he had to anyone else.

You look at your fake husband and laugh, "I don't think you can decide that you're a prodigy." You look Adam up and down, "my husband, here," you place your hand on Spencer's shoulder, looking at him as if he hung the moon and stars, "he is a prodigy. How old were you when you got your first PhD?"

"Seventeen," he laughed humbly, looking at you, "you flatter me."

You smile softly as Reid squeezes your thigh, something Adam could not see and, therefore, was unnecessary. You look at Spencer, but he refuses to meet your eyes.

You turn back to Adam, pulling out the photos of the four bodies and showing them to him, "have you met these people before?"

He shakes his head, "I've never seen those people before."

"Really?" You ask calmly, "You've never, ever, seen Andrea Haskins?"

Adam shakes his head.

"Never, not once, seen her husband, Kent Haskins, either?"

He shakes his head again.

Reid sits up straighter, linking his hands together on the table in front of him, "you received a pretty generous amount of money from him every month since... August?"

You mentally thank Garcia for that information, and mentally thank Reid for remembering it.

Adam sits up straight, too, but falling shorter than Reid, "I clean their house for them, don't mean I've ever met 'em."

You hum, "I wouldn't let a stranger into our home, would you?"

Reid shakes his head, and Adam gets visibly upset at your interactions. His hands clench to the table ledge, knees bouncing, eyes narrowed.

"Say, Adam," you perk up, "how much bleach do you use per house you clean, about?"

Adam's eyes trained on me, "you're a smart girl," he then looked to Reid, "with an even smarter husband." He spits the words as if they are poison on his tongue, "You do the math."

You stand, smiling softly, "So, not 10 gallons per week?"

Adam shrugs, "If that's your calculation."

You walk closer to the man, sitting on the table next to him and leaning down to him, "And I assume you also have never met the Coleman's?"

He shakes his head.

"Never met anyone in the Coleman family?"

"No. God, you people suck at your job."

"That's actually interesting considering we have video footage of your picking up Lacey Coleman from school last Monday. A family doesn't let a stranger house cleaner pick up their child from school."

Adam's eyes widen, and you know you have him cornered.

"How long had your sister been friends with the Colemans?" Reid interjects.

"Don't you dare talk about her."

"Why not?" Reid asks simply, "Does she bother you?"

"I was going to be a Lawyer, I was going to be successful and make my dad proud of me. Until she ruined it all with her perfect schooling and perfect husband," Adam spits.

"Halley is a pretty successful neurosurgeon, huh? She gets all of daddy's special attention, doesn't she?" You say.

"Get your wife on a leash," Adam says to Reid.

"All you wanted was to feel loved, to hear your dad say he's proud of you," you keep talking, "and you were going to kill him because he wouldn't say it."

"Shut the hell up, bitch!"

"You were getting ready to kill your mom and dad because, hey, why not go straight to the source? Why not kill who made you like this?"

"What if your family pulled your funds for a sibling, huh?" He yells to you and Reid, "How would you feel?"

The room goes silent and Reid allows you to keep talking, keep getting on his nerves.

"His daddy left him when his mom got sick, and my mommy killed herself when I was seven. We worked for our degrees, and we worked even harder for the scholarships that paid for our three PhDs." You hiss, "I would've worked harder to get what I want instead of just expecting it."

"You're a bitch," Adam spit in my face.

"I could be worse. I could take away a little girl's family. I could kill four innocent people out of my frustration and failure."

Reid finally stepped in, grabbing your hand softly and pulling you back to your side of the table.

"I didn't kill those people."

"That's not what your body is telling us, Adam." Reid states simply, "You are hurt and still are hurting, I understand that. But now so is Lacey. That's on you."

Adam's lip quivers, "I didn't hurt Lacey! Lacey was at her friend's house!"

Reid rises, grabs your hand gently, and walks to the door, and you follow.

"Hey!" Adam screams, "where are you going? Get back here!"

As soon as the door shuts behind you, you let go of Reid's hand. He turns to you and watches your expression shift.

"Good work, Bun."

You nod, and he looks like he's about to say something else, mouth opening, but then Hotchner walks in.

"Great work.”

You smile at Aaron, and Reid stares at you with something dark behind his eyes. He looks nervous, and hungry, and concerned, and certain.

"We'll be heading back in 30. Wrap up. Great job, Doctors."

***

On the plane, you and Reid are still in your "Rich Couple" personas, not having enough time to change out.

You sit near the back of the plane, headphones in, and reading Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience by William Blake.

"Little Lamb who made thee, Dost though know who made thee?"

You hear the words of "The Lamb" spoken, causing you to take out your headphones and look to the source: Spencer Reid.

He sits across from you as you ask, "You read Blake?"

"Blake to Poe to Plath, I don't mind."

You narrow your eyes at him, "what do you want?"

"Really?" He asks, "We can't just have a nice moment?"

You raise your eyebrows at him, "Not you and me. We don't have nice moments."

His facial features soften, and he sighs, "I'm sorry for acting so harsh toward you. You didn't deserve that."

You're shocked by his statement, "Pardon me?"

He runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, "I was scared, Bun. I was the smart one. I convinced myself that was all I could be," his breath hitches and his eyes connect with mine, "I thought if there was someone smarter, more sociable, and nicer than me, they wouldn't need me anymore."

"Spence..." you start, and you realize it's the first time you've called him his nickname.

He notices it, too, eyes shifting from one of concern to one of understanding, "You're incredibly smart. You're kind, and you're fun to be around. I'm sorry it took me so long to notice that."

You nodded, "thank you."

He nods and goes to stand.

"Wait." You quickly speak up and he freezes, "What's... um..." you stutter, "what's your favorite Poe?"

Reid smiles, sitting back down, "Annabel Lee."

You smile, "Gold-Bug."

He laughs, "Really?"

And you nod.

****

"Let's go get drinks!" Garcia announces as you and the team wrap up your paperwork, and you laugh.

"I don't think so," you smile, "not tonight."

"C'mon, Bun," Garcia whines "It'll be fun!"

Reid suddenly looked at you, eyes darker, eyes that held you tight in a grip, "Yeah, c'mon, Bun." He says the name with a sensuality you had never heard before. It sent a shiver down your spine, "it'll be fun."

You look at him, taking in a shaky breath, "I.. uh, don't have a ride."

"I'll drive you," Reid says simply, and the rest of the team just stares at the interaction.

Things have changed since the interrogation room, you know that, but did you want to be alone with him already?

You look at him, his messy hair, his stubble, and chocolate brown eyes, and your pussy clenches around nothing.

You find yourself nodding, mouth too dry to speak.

"Good," he smiles, "follow me."

Your team watches with uncertainty as you walk off with Spencer, and it's almost like they've seen the change, too.

No, they're profilers. They know Reid had you wrapped around his finger while reciting Blake.

They also knew Spencer had been pining after you since you wore those hot pink heels on the first day of work. But they didn't need to tell you that.

Reid guides you to the elevator, and you comply silently. Once the door closes and it's just you two, you turn to Spencer.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" He responds simply.

You turn to face him, "why are you being so nice to me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Bun."

You roll your eyes, "yeah right."

The elevator doors open, and he walks you to his car, opening the door for you.

"Thank you," you smile cautiously, and he nods.

He sits down in the driver's seat and pulls out of his parking spot. One of his hands rests on the wheel, the other placed on the gearshift. His eyes focus on the road, but they occasionally slide over to you. The silence- although comfortable- practically kills you.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

He glances over at you, and he smirks, "I want to."

You look at him, "why?"

He shrugs, "spent too long not doing it."

You nod and glance out the window, just as Spencer puts the car in park.

As you step out of the car, you hear Derek and Emily from behind you, making a show of letting you know they are also here.

You walked over to Morgan and hugged him.

"Hey, Bunny," he smiles and kisses your forehead, "first rounds on me tonight, sweetheart."

You laugh, "thank god! Need a handsome man to buy me some drinks!"

Reid scoffs from behind you, but you shrug it off, assuming it was about something Emily had said.

It wasn't.

As you walk into the bar with Derek's arm around your shoulder, you quickly make your way to the table with Garcia and Rossi.

"What are you drinking?" You ask Garcia, gesturing to her hot pink drink in front of her, garnished with cotton candy, strawberries on sticks, and a big, twisty straw.

Gracia's eyes widen, "oh my gosh! You've never been here before??" You shake your head, and she squeals with excitement, "Okay, so, it's called the Cotton Candy Chameleon. It's basically strawberry vodka and coconut rum with strawberry soda! Look!" She picks up the cotton candy and places it into the liquid, watching as it rapidly dissolves, "did you see that?!"

"That's why it's called a Chameleon," Derek laughs, arm still around you, "want me to get you one?"

You nod happily, "and a shot of Titos? I'll pay you back!"

Morgan winks at you, "It's on me, Bun."

As he walks toward the bar, you and Garcia continue to chat about anything and everything, her childhood cat, where you grew up, and how Garcia got put on the team.

"You were so good at being bad," you laugh, swirling your third Cotton Candy Chameleon that Morgan brought over to you, "that the FBI gave you a job instead of jail time?"

She nodded, giggling, "Pretty much. Are you going to take that shot?" She points to the round Rossi had bought for the table.

You laugh, quickly picking it up and downing it, "god!"

"Woah!" Morgan laughs, hands catching your hips to keep you steady, "careful, Bunny."

You feel eyes glaring into you, and you trace them to Reid sitting at the bar. He has his elbow on the bar, leaning into his hand as he watches you with a look of unhappiness.

You roll your eyes, finishing the final chug of your drink, and placing a hand on Morgan's chest.

"You're warm," you say with a goofy smile, and Derek laughs.

"Oh, really, sweetheart?"

You nod, leaning further into him as his hands rest on your hips.

You make eye contact with him before you smirk and push away, "I'm going to get another drink."

"Hey, Bun!" You turn around to Rossi, his empty glass raised to you, "Get me another old fashioned."

You nod, smiling at the older man, and waltzing to the bar, right next to Reid.

"You having fun, Bunny?" He asks, voice low.

"Yes, sir." You smile, waiting for the bartender to walk over.

He sucks in a breath at the title, "You sure are touchy with Morgan," he grits out, staring at you, not quite your eyes, but something a little bit lower.

You scoff, "What's it to you?"

"Nothing." He spits, eyes connecting with yours, pupils taking over the brown of his eyes.

The bartender finally comes up to you, a cute girl in a black, low-cut tank top and some black, short shorts. She has short blonde hair, barely reaching her shoulders and it's curled up and pinned back so her hair is framing her face.

She was gorgeous, actually.

"What can I do for ya?" She asks, shaking a drink before breaking the seal and pouring it into a glass.

You tell her your order, and that it's on David Rossi's tab, and she nods.

Then she turns to Spencer, "What about you handsome?" She says it sultry like she's trying to seduce him, "Need another? I'd be happy to get you somethin' else."

Your eyes narrow on her, a deep, red-hot feeling forming in your gut. She doesn't see your stare though, completely focused on Spencer, leaning over the counter so her cleavage is on full display, biting her lip and twirling her hair.

You decided then and there that you hated her.

Reid tells her that he's okay, water if she insists, and when she comes back with his water, she hands him a napkin with ink scribbled on it, "I get off in 45 if you're interested."

"He's not."

The words come out of your lips faster than you could think, your brain taking longer to catch up with your mouth.

"Pardon?" She asks you, calm and calculating, "Didn't know you could decide that for him."

You laugh cockily, "Oh?" You act fast pulling yourself into Reid's lap before he can protest, but his hands wrap around you, trapping you where you sat, "I think I can."

Reid looked at the bartender, then his eyes trailed back to you, "Sorry, Brooklyn, I'm spoken for," his eyes darkened, a sly smile rising on his lips.

The bartender walks away to work on your drinks, and you turn all the way to face Reid.

"What are you doing, Bun?" He asks, voice low. You shift your hips and he hums, grabbing your waist to stop the movement, "Stop that. Talk to me."

You whimper, leaning into his chest, "You were really going to choose some bottle blonde over me?" Your words come out harsh, but it's also the first time you've said what's truly on your mind in front of Reid.

His eyes land back on Brooklyn, and he smirks, "She's pretty, I'll give her that," he looks down at you, right as the bartender places the drinks in front of you, "But you? You're on a whole different level, Bun."

You blush and shake your head, just as Brooklyn walks back over to hand you your drinks.

As she sets them down she says, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you two were a thing."

You quickly shake your head, "Don't worry about it," you smile, "neither did he."

"In my defense," Spencer laughs, his lips close to your ear, "I didn't know you were an option. If I had, there wouldn't have been a competition."

You shiver when you feel his breath on your neck, "yeah, right. You've hated me since I joined the BAU."

His eyes widened, "Hated you?"

You nod softly, a little confused by the question.

"Hated isn't the word I would use," He laughed.

"What is?" You ask quietly.

He leans his head side to side, as if pondering the best way to answer, "obsessed? Intimidated?" He looked at you, a small smirk playing on his lips, "Lusted?"

Your eyes widened, "what?"

He shrugs, a hand falling to your thigh, thumb drawing circles, "The way you are entrances me. The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you exist." He leans his head down so his eyes meet yours, "I knew I couldn't do anything about that, so I stayed away. I guess it came off as hatred."

The hand that wasn't on your leg reached up to pluck the cotton candy off of your drink, opening his mouth and letting the sugar melt on his tongue.

"Mmm," he hummed, eyes still locked with yours, "so sweet, Bun."

Your jaw dropped slightly, thighs clenching, and he grips your flesh, "Nuh, uh. What's wrong?" He chuckles as you whine against him, "Use your words."

You sit up, straightening and sliding off of his lap, "You're a sick freak, Spencer Reid."

He licked his lips, eyes trailing down your body, "I'll bring Rossi his drink, wait by the door."

You cross your arms over your chest, but your heart is pounding so loudly you can hear it in your ears, "what makes you think I listen to you?"

"Oh, Bunny," his finger lifts your chin, "I'm a profiler. Absolutely everything tells me that you'll listen to me."

You roll your eyes and scoff, "And if they ask where we're going?"

A devilish smirk flashes across his lips, and he leans toward your ear, and you can feel his breath on your skin, "you already told them you're tired," he pauses, "I'm going to fuck you to sleep, Doctor."

You suck in a shuddering breath, eyes glazing over as he chuckles, pulling away from you.

You take a step back, mumbling, "Hurry back."

He smiles widely, pupils practically taking over his chocolate eyes, "good girl."

You suck in a breath as he turns on his heel, walking over to the team as you wait by the door. Penelope frowns at you, waving, and Emily blows you a kiss.

Rossi looks at you calmly, and Derek raises a smooth eyebrow with a smirk.

Spencer walks back to you, grabbing your arm as you walk to the car.

Once you get back to his black Dodge Challenger, he presses you against the door, “How drunk are you right now?”

“From one to ten?” You ask, voice quiet, Reid looking at you like you’re a meal.

He nods, hands gripping your hips, “Goddamn it, Bun,” he hisses, “Yes, one to ten.”

“Four,” you answer, and his lips slam into yours in a frenzy.

It’s all tongue and teeth like he couldn’t wait a single second longer to taste you. Like it would kill him.

Your chest arches into his, hands going to his shoulders, holding on for life in the bruising kiss.

He pulls away, his eyes nearly black, eyes filled with an undeniable hunger, and it makes you shiver.

A smirk comes over his face as he steps away from you, opening your door, “get in.”

You don’t have to be told twice, stepping into the car, carefully so you don’t fall in the emerald heels he bought you.

With his own money.

“Spencer?”

He turns on the car and pulls out of the parking spot, “Yeah?”

You look at him, studying how you are both still dressed like a posh-rich couple, “You bought me these heels.”

He nods, chuckling and placing his hand on your thigh, “Excellent observation.”

You shudder at the contact, “with your own money.”

He smirks, “Who told you that?”

“JJ?”

“Ah,” he laughs, “Yeah, green’s your color.”

You raise an eyebrow, “How did you decide that?”

“A few weeks ago you wore this emerald green sweater,” he says, “It looked so goddamn good on you.”

You recall the memory, smiling softly, “Is that why you were avoiding me? You thought I looked pretty?”

His voice gets stern, face serious when he looks over at you, “Stop talking, Bun.”

A belly laugh escapes your mouth, head thrown back as you cackle, “I thought I pissed you off somehow!”

He gives your thigh a sharp squeeze, “I don’t think I’ve ever been genuinely angry with you.”

You sit dumbfounded, a quiet oh slipping past your closed lips.

He looks at you and parks the car, “I’ve been upset, frustrated, and God have I been irritated with you,” he turns to look at you, pulling his hand away from your leg, “But I have never been angry with you.”

He unbuckles quickly as you stare at him in surprise, and he gets out of the car, rushing around to open your door, “hurry up.”

You stumble out of the car, and he puts a hand on the small of your back, ushering you into his apartment.

You don’t get a chance to fully appreciate the chaotic charm of Spencer Reid’s place. As soon as you notice the books piled up everywhere, he spins you around, pressing your back against the door and capturing your lips in another kiss. This kiss is slower and more controlled, with his hands sliding up your sides to your back, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of your neck. You ball his shirt into your hands, pulling him impossibly closer.

“God, Bun, your fucking intoxicating,” he sighs against your lips, hands slipping under your shirt to rest on your bare hips, and you sigh at the contact.

He smirks, trailing wet kisses down your neck, gently grazing his teeth over your pulse point, and you moan, “there she is,” he mumbles, “been wanting to hear you make those pretty little sounds for a while.”

You whimper, “Shut up.”

He laughs, tugging you away from the door, and guiding you into his bedroom.

You shed off your suit jacket, and he rips your shirt over your head before pushing you down on his mattress. You gasp as you fall, Spencer's hands quickly move to your slacks, unbuttoning them and looking up at you with eyes so fiery you feel your whole body set aflame.

“Yes,” you say, noticing the silent question Spencer is asking you, “please, yes.”

He smirks, kissing the skin just above the waistline of your pants before tugging them down, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off.

He throws the items into the corner of his room, sitting up and looking at you: dressed in nothing but a black bra and matching panties, his eyes darken. He slides his hands down your body, and he practically growls when he feels your sopping wet cunt.

“God dammit, you’re so wet Bunny,” he says, his finger sliding over the soaked fabric of your panties, “such a silly girl, thinking I could want anyone but you.”

You whimper at the comment, and he leans down to kiss your upper thigh, slowly spreading your legs apart with the palms of his hands. Your legs widen as he settles in, kissing slowly up and around them, licking, sucking, and biting until you’re littered with heart-shaped marks.

“Gonna show you how much I wanted you,” he hisses, his hot breath fanning over your covered pussy, “gotta let you know how dumb you are for thinking I was anyone’s but yours.”

You whimper shamelessly at the comment, your legs trying to close, desperate for any kind of friction.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, Bunny?” he laughs, looking up at you from between your thighs, “You like it when I tell you just how stupid you are? How fuckin’ useless that little brain of yours is?”

You nod rapidly, and Spencer licks a thick stripe over your clothed core. You let out a loud gasp, your head lolling to the side at the much-appreciated attention. He pushes your underwear to the side, diving into your pussy like a man starved. Spencer kitten licks your clit before pulling it into his mouth and sucking harshly, and your back arches from the bed.

“Fuck, Spence,” you moan, hands shooting into his hair, “so fuckin good, feels so good.”

“Mmm, there you go, baby,” he says, his index finger circling your entrance, “let me know how good I’m doing,” and his finger slowly pushes into you as his mouth reconnects to your hot skin.

Spencer Reid was talented with his tongue, but, god, his fingers were a whole other story.

He curled his finger toward him, finding that sweet, gummy spot inside you almost immediately, abusing it before inserting another and scissoring his fingers.

“You’re so tight,” he mumbles against your cunt, and a loud moan slips from your lips, your hands tangling into his hair as you desperately try to grind against his tongue, but he puts a hand over your stomach, holding you down.

He continues his torment, fingers working you open and his tongue moving rapidly through your folds. His fingers drag down your front wall slowly, and you can’t help his name slipping off of your tongue.

He smirks, looking up at you, “Atta girl, Bunny. Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

You moan loudly as he continues his torment. Your legs start to shake, his tongue swirling circles around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and one of your hands grabs your breast to ground you. Your breathing gets ragged, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from screaming.

“You gonna cum for me, Bunny?” He asks, voice low, “Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You nod, and he tsk’s.

“Without asking?” He says, a smirk on his perfect lips, slowing his fingers down and moving to kiss the insides of your thighs, “Not even going to ask after I’ve worked so hard for you?”

You throw your head back with a groan, “Please, Spencer!”

“Please what?”

You consider slapping him, telling him to stop treating you like some desperate slut, but in your current state? You might as well be.

“Please let me cum! I’ve been so good for you, Spence, I’ll be so good!”

“Yeah? You going to be my good girl?” he asks, eyes locking with yours, eyebrows raised, as he speeds up his fingers inside of your spasming pussy, “You promise?”

“Promise! Please, Spence, let me cum for you!”

He pauses for a second like he’s thinking, the smirk on his face growing, “cum for me, Bunny,” and he watches your face, jaw dropped as you orgasm around his fingers, your slick coating his palm and dripping onto the sheets below you as he works you through your bliss.

Once you come down, though, his fingers don't stop moving, his thumb moving to rub tight circles on your pulsing clit, “You’ve got another one in you,” he says as you bite your lip and your eyes water slightly, “C’mon, baby, you can give me another, right?”

You nod your head, your lip tugged between your teeth, your legs still shaking. He doesn’t give you time to breathe, just continues to suck and lick on your clit like it’s what he was made for, and, before you know it, your eyes clench shut as you rapidly approach another orgasm.

Little whimpers leave your lips, and Spencer chuckles slightly, “My poor girl, so desperate for me. I can tell you’re getting close again, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, and he speeds up his pace, your jaw dropping into a silent ‘o’.

He kisses your stomach, holding your shaking legs with his free hand, “Give it to me, Bun.”

And you release with reckless ambition, thighs flung open and a hand gripping the sheets for your life as a string of moans leaves your lips. Spencer removes his fingers and moves down to lick up your come, and you have no choice but to whimper. He smirks and pulls away from your cunt, placing his lips hot on your own, and you taste yourself.

“You’re so sweet, Bunny. Sweeter than candy,” he sighs, hands sliding down your chest.

You whimper, forcing your hands into his hair in another soul-crushing kiss, and he chuckles into it.

“Desperate for something?”

And you nod, one hand trailing down the front of his body, grabbing his dick covered by his pants and he groans.

“You want this cock, Baby?” He lifts off of you, sitting with his knees on either side of your body while he quickly undoes the top two buttons of his shirt before deeming it useless and pulling it over his head while your hands make quick work of his pants, pulling off his belt and tugging his pants and boxers down enough to free his aching cock.

You moan at the sight, immediately leaning forward to kiss his tip, before he pushes you back onto the bed.

“Another time, Bun,” he grumbles, “need to feel you around me.”

You moan, nodding and lining him up with your quivering pussy, and he pushes forward just slightly, enough for his tip to pop inside of you, and the groan that leaves his lips is pornographic.

“She’s so fuckin’ tight, baby, can feel her squeezing me.”

You whimper, “please! More!”

He chuckles darkly at your request, “yeah? You need something?”

You roll your hips forward, pushing him in a little further before he slaps the outside of your thigh harshly.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart. I’m gonna take my time with you.”

He emphasizes his words by pulling out slightly, and pushing back in, fucking you with just his tip, and a desperate gasp leaves your lips.

“Look at you,” he groans, continuing his torturous motions, “so desperate for my cock. Such a nasty little thing.”

And the thrusts harshly, abruptly sheathing his whole cock inside of you, and your head throws back.

He has the audacity to laugh at you, quickening his pace, each thrust hitting causing him to hit your cervix in a blissfully painful way, your eyes rolling back, begging for something. You're not quite sure what, though.

“So fucked out you can't think straight?” He coos, his pace never slowing, “if I knew this was all it took to shut you up I’d have done it a long time ago.”

And you whine at the thought.

He raises an eyebrow, “You like that idea, don't you, Bunny?” And you nod.

Suddenly, he pulls out completely, slapping your thigh again, “Roll over. Hands and knees.”

You quickly comply, supporting yourself on shaky arms and legs, and he trails a hand up your spine before pushing down, forcing your chest to the bed below you.

He groans as you arch your back, quickly pushing himself back inside your sopping cunt.,

“Such pretty holes you got here, baby,” he whispers, spitting onto your asshole as one of his thumbs spreads out the lubricant, causing your breath to hitch.

“Wanna fill both of them for you, can I do that?”

And you nod recklessly, your head bouncing against the pillows at the speed and power of his thrusts, and he takes your permission to push his thumb into your virgin ass, and the moan that rips through your throat is almost humiliating.

“You like being so full of me, don't you, Bunny?”

And you groan out, “yes! Fuck, I’m so close, Spencer!”

He laughs as your cunt starts quivering around his cock, his tip bullying that sweet spot inside of you.

“I know sweet thing, give it to me. Cum around my cock.”

With permission, you release around him, your pussy clenched around his dick and your ass squeezing his thumb, but he keeps fucking you through it.

His free hand laces through your hair, pulling your head back as you whimper in overstimulation.

“Take it,” he groans, mumbling more to himself as his cock twitches inside of you, “come on, take it like the dirty whore you are. Love having me fill both your nasty holes, fuck.”

His rhythm falters, and he thrusts one or two more times before spilling inside of you, fucking his seed deeper inside of you.

Once he calms down, he slowly removes his thumb before carefully pulling out of your pussy, and you whimper at the empty feeling.

“Stay here,” he whispers, kissing your hip before scrambling to the bathroom for a warm, damp washcloth.

He gently wipes you off, murmuring about how good you did for him, saying he’s proud of you before he helps you roll over onto your back.

He chuckles at the goofy smile on your lips, eyes tired and droopy, and he pushes the hair that had matted to your skin with sweat out of your face.

“You okay?” He asks, voice low, and you nod happily.

“‘M perfect.”

“Good,” he smiles, pulling the comforter over you and cuddling up to your spent body.

You lay in silence for a moment, happy and relaxed in his arms, before you speak up.

“So, you never hated me?”

“Jesus Christ, Bun,” he sighs exasperatedly, “go to sleep.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut

903 notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 10 months ago

Text

Ours to Protect

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: life with your boys may be chaotic but, through all the ups and downs, you wouldn’t change it for the world

Warnings: depictions of injury, vague descriptions of pregnancy, and Jos Verstappen being Jos Verstappen

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, the roar of the crowd already audible even from the secure paddock parking area.

Your stomach flutters with nerves and excitement as you smooth down your outfit and head towards the paddock entrance. This is your first race of the season and the reporters and fans are always rabid at the start of a new year.

As you enter the paddock you glance around, looking for Charles or Max but neither are immediately visible in the organized chaos. You clutch your paddock pass, suddenly feeling self-conscious walking through alone.

The other drivers’ wives and girlfriends are already gathered in small groups, greeting each other with cheek kisses as they exchange pleasantries. A few give you sidelong glances as you walk by, no doubt wondering why you’re alone when the rest of them arrived together with their partners.

You keep your head high, ignoring the looks. Your relationship with Charles and Max has been going strong and so far you’ve kept it private, with only close friends and family aware that the three of you are together. The public and the media still think of you as just a friend and you aren’t sure how they would react if they knew the truth. The three of you have discussed going public but agreed it’s better to wait, wanting to enjoy your time together out of the spotlight for now.

Still, you wish Charles or Max were with you as a buffer from prying eyes. You check your phone but there are no new messages. They must both still be busy with their pre-race preparations. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards the Red Bull garage first, figuring you’ll find Max there.

As you approach, you spot a small crowd of reporters loitering near the garage entrance. They perk up as they see you coming, immediately descending upon you with microphones and cameras.

“Y/N! Over here!” One calls out. “Are you here to see Max?”

You stop short, feeling cornered as they form a semi-circle around you. “Um, yes, I’m just heading to the garage to say hi,” you say carefully.

“And what about Charles?” Another reporter asks, eyebrow raised suggestively. “Will you be visiting him in the Ferrari garage as well?”

You freeze, panic rising. Do they know about your relationship? You haven’t been seen together in public yet. “I-I’m friends with both Charles and Max,” you stammer.

“Just friends?” A third reporter chimes in skeptically. “Our sources say you’ve been getting very cozy with the two drivers lately. Care to comment on the rumors that you’re stringing them both along?”

You take a step back, heart pounding as their questions come rapid-fire.

“Are you cheating on one with the other?”

“How long do you think you can keep this charade going before they realize?”

“Doesn’t it bother you, playing with their feelings like this?”

Their accusations hit you like blows, your anxiety spiking as you find yourself backed up against a wall, cameras flashing in your face. This is your worst fear come to life. You look around desperately for an escape but find only unsympathetic faces staring back at you, judging you.

“I … I have to go,” you gasp out, ducking your head and pushing your way blindly through the crush of bodies. You can hear them calling out more questions but you block it out, focused only on getting away. You’re shaking and feel sick, tears pricking at your eyes.

Is this what it will be like if you ever go public? This is exactly why you wanted to keep it quiet.

Suddenly you collide with a solid chest. Strong hands grasp your shoulders and you look up with a start to see Max gazing down at you, concern creasing his brow.

“Whoa, schatje, what happened?” He asks. He glances over your shoulder at the reporters who have reluctantly backed off but are still hovering nearby. Max’s jaw tightens as he seems to grasp the situation.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say shakily, embarrassed by your reaction.

Max studies your face, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he says gently, keeping an arm wrapped securely around you as he guides you away from prying eyes.

Once you’re safely inside the Red Bull motorhome, Max steers you over to a quiet corner and helps you sit. Crouching down in front of you, he brushes a strand of hair back from your face. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You take a shuddering breath, willing yourself to calm down. “The reporters ambushed me outside. They started accusing me of stringing you and Charles along. I just panicked and had to get out of there.”

Max’s face darkens. “Those goddamn vultures. What the hell gives them the right ...” He cuts off his tirade with a sigh, taking your hands in his. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that alone. I should have been there with you.”

You give him a shaky smile. “It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Max kisses your forehead. “Let me go talk to Charlie so he knows what happened. I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nod gratefully. After Max leaves you take deep breaths, willing your racing heart to settle. You knew the secrecy couldn’t last forever but you weren’t prepared for the cruelty of those reporters. The idea of having to face that regularly if you go public makes you feel ill.

You’re lost in thought when another familiar voice says your name. Looking up you see Charles hurrying over, the same concerned look on his face that Max wore earlier. You stand and Charles immediately folds you into a tight hug.

“Are you alright, ma belle?” He murmurs. “Max told me what happened.”

You cling to him, taking comfort in his embrace. “I’m okay now. Just a bit shaken up.”

Charles’ jaw is tight as he pulls back to look at you. “I’m so sorry I was not there. I should have been with you.” His hand comes up to cup your cheek tenderly.

You cover his hand with your own. “You couldn’t have known. I’m the one who decided to come alone like an idiot.”

Charles starts to argue but you cut him off. “Let’s not play the blame game, okay? I just want to put it behind me.”

Charles presses his lips together but nods. “Of course. As long as you are alright.” He kisses your forehead sweetly. “I will not leave your side for the rest of the day, I promise.”

You give him a small but genuine smile. “Thank you.”

Just then Max returns. “How is she doing?” He asks Charles quietly.

“A bit better I think. Still shaken though.”

Max nods, his eyes stormy. “I warned the press to back the hell off but I doubt they’ll listen.”

Your heart sinks. The last thing you want is them continuing to hound you every race. You bite your lip. “Maybe … maybe we should just tell them the truth.”

Max and Charles exchange a surprised look. “Are you sure?” Charles asks cautiously. “We do not have to do anything until you are ready.”

You take a breath. “I’m not really. But I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder constantly either, you know? And I hate feeling like we have to hide.” You look between them. “I mean, only if you both are comfortable with it too. But maybe it’s time.”

Max considers you thoughtfully. “I’m ready when you are. I’m tired of sneaking around too. If this is what you want, I’m with you.” He glances at Charles who nods.

“Oui, I agree. I do not enjoy the secrecy either. I am ready to tell the world you are both mine.” Charles smiles and pulls you close again.

You let out a shaky laugh. “Well it’s definitely not going to be easy, but with you two by my side, I’m ready.” You take each of their hands, feeling emboldened.

Charles grins and kisses your cheek. “Then let’s do this.”

The three of you head out of the garage hand in hand. You hold your head high as you approach the still lingering reporters, flanked on either side by your boys. Their steady presence gives you courage.

The reporters perk up excitedly seeing the three of you together, shouting questions, but you ignore them. At an unspoken signal you all stop and turn to face the cameras head on.

Charles leans in and kisses you sweetly, then Max does the same, before kissing each other with you sandwiched firmly between them. You smile against their lips, the action speaking louder than any words. Then, without giving the reporters time to process what just happened, you continue walking down the paddock, leaving behind an audience with their jaws on the floor.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as their shocked reactions fade behind you. Let them talk. You have everything you need right here. Wrapping your arms around your boys, you head off to face the rest of the day, and your future, together.

No more hiding. The world knows now. And you’ve never felt more free.

***

The morning sun filters in through the curtains, stirring you awake. You stretch leisurely, reaching across both sides of the large bed only to find it empty. The faint clinking of dishes filters in from outside the room — your boys must be up already making breakfast.

Smiling sleepily, you drag yourself out of bed and shuffle towards the kitchen, eager for coffee. As you enter, you find Charles at the stove scrambling eggs while Max sets the table.

Charles glances up with a grin. “Bonjour, ma belle. Sleep well?”

You hum affirmatively, accepting the mug of coffee Max hands you with a quick peck on the lips. “What time is it?”

“Just after 9,” Max says. “We were going to let you sleep in but breakfast is ready.”

You sip your coffee, leaning back against the counter. “That’s okay. I wanted to go to the farmer’s market this morning anyway. Care to join me after we eat?”

“I wish I could, but I have a training session in an hour,” Charles says regretfully.

Max shakes his head too. “And I have a sponsor meeting.”

You pout playfully. “Fine, abandon me to go shopping alone.”

Charles chuckles. “We would never. But duty calls today unfortunately.” He plates the eggs with some toast and you all sit down to eat.

After breakfast, you quickly get ready while Max and Charles clean up. Emerging from the bedroom, you grab your purse and find them waiting to walk you out.

“Have fun at the market,” Max says, kissing your cheek. “Get some of those apricot tarts I like.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Only if you’re good.”

Charles hugs you tightly. “Be safe out there. Call if you need anything, yes?”

“I’ll be fine!” You assure him with a laugh. With a final wave, you head out the door and down to the lobby.

Stepping outside, you pause in confusion. A large crowd is gathered in front of your building. Fans, you realize. But how did they find your address?

Your heart sinks. Ever since going public, you’ve dealt with heightened interest and gossip. But this feels like a violation of privacy. Biting your lip uncertainly, you start trying to weave through the crowd towards the market down the block.

Immediately people press in excitedly around you. “It’s her!” You hear someone shout. Camera phones are suddenly in your face as people call out questions.

“How does being with the two of them work?”

“Be honest, do you prefer Max or Charles?”

You keep your head down, trying not to engage. Their invasive questions make your skin crawl. “Excuse me, please let me through,” you say as politely as you can.

But the crowd only seems to grow more aggressive, everyone shoving to get close and fire off more intrusive questions about your relationship. You feel hands grabbing at you and start to panic.

“Please, I need to get by,” you say, shrinking away from the grasping hands. But the crowd surges and someone shoves you hard from behind.

You cry out as you fall forward, directly into the path of an exuberant fan. Blinding pain explodes in your temple as her flailing elbow catches you across the face.

You hit the ground hard, vision graying out. Dazed, you try to curl into a protective ball as feet trample around you, completely oblivious.

“Stop, please!” You sob, blood dripping from your throbbing temple. But the crowd is a living entity now, crushing in on you. This is a nightmare.

Suddenly you hear a roar over the din. “GET BACK!”

The footsteps stutter to a halt as the authoritative voice bellows again. “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER!”

Then Max is there, somehow muscling his way through the press of bodies to drop to his knees beside you. His face is thunderous as he quickly but gently gathers you into his arms.

“Fucking animals,” he spits, glaring venomously at the stunned crowd as you cling to him desperately. “I’ve got you, just hold on.”

Over Max’s shoulder you can see Charles forcibly holding the fans at bay, yelling expletives in a jumbled mess of three languages. The path clears as Max carries you swiftly back into your building.

Once inside the apartment, Max lays you gently on the couch, hands feather-light as he examines your injuries. His jaw clenches when he sees the gash bleeding heavily at your temple.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says tightly. “This needs stitches.”

You nod weakly, letting him press a towel to stanch the bleeding while Charles comes bursting in, swearing violently when he sees the blood.

“What the hell happened?” He demands, kneeling beside you. His touch is infinitely gentle though as he brushes hair from your face.

“Got mobbed by those goddamn stalkers outside,” Max growls. “One of them elbowed her in the head.”

Charles’ expression darkens dangerously. You’ve never seen him look so livid before.

“We’ll deal with them later,” Max says firmly. “Right now we need to get her to the emergency department.”

Charles nods, visibly reigning in his anger. “You’re right, of course.” He looks back at you, anger fading to concern. “Are you able to stand, chérie?”

You cry out as simply trying to sit up sends shooting pain through your head. Charles’ jaw ticks as he looks ready to rush back outside and fight the crowd himself, before he easily lifts you into his arms, Max holding the cloth to your cut as they carefully get you down to the garage.

The car ride passes in a haze of pain and you cling to Charles in the backseat while Max drives, exhaustion hitting you.

At the hospital, Max scoops you up, carrying you inside despite your mumbled protests that you can walk. He ignores you, striding right up to the intake desk.

“She needs help now,” he snaps. The no-nonsense tone of his voice has nurses springing into action immediately.

Before you know it, you’ve been whisked off for scans and then into an exam room. A kind faced doctor stitches up your wound carefully while Max and Charles hover protectively on either side.

“Any other injuries?” The doctor asks gently.

You shake your head. “Just some bruises I think.”

She pats your leg. “I’d still like to do a full workup, including a pregnancy test, before we proceed with any other treatment or medication.”

Your eyes widen. With everything going on, your period being late hadn’t even registered. But now that she mentions it ...

Charles and Max go still beside you. “Pregnancy test?” Charles asks tightly.

The doctor smiles reassuringly. “Standard procedure. I’m sure it’s just a precaution.”

Charles grabs your hand, tension radiating off him while you wait on the results. Max paces like a caged animal until the doctor returns. Her kind eyes immediately give it away.

The tests come back quickly and the doctor steps back in to review the results. “No signs of fracture or serious head injury, that’s good news. We’ll get you a prescription for the laceration and ...” she trails off, looking at the chart with a slight frown.

You feel Max and Charles tense on either side of you. “What is it?” Max asks sharply. “Something wrong?”

The doctor looks up. “No, nothing wrong. Just unexpected. The bloodwork indicates that you’re pregnant, about 8 weeks along.”

“Mon dieu,” Charles breathes, stunned. Max ceases his pacing, mouth agape. They both turn to you with myriad emotions swirling in their eyes.

“A baby?” Max says hoarsely. “We’re having a baby?”

You place a hand over your still flat stomach, head spinning. “I guess we are.”

Charles lets out an incredulous laugh and surges forward to capture your mouth in a fierce kiss. When he pulls back, his eyes are blazing.

“They could have hurt our child,” he says darkly. You can see the protectiveness rising in him, mixed with anger at those who endangered his baby.

Max’s expression mirrors Charles’ stormy one. “Those goddamn animals,” he spits. “If anything had happened ...” His hands fist at his sides.

You reach for them both. “But nothing did,” you remind them gently. “We’re both okay.”

They take deep breaths, focusing back on you. Charles rests his forehead against yours while Max kneels to press a kiss to your belly.

“We won’t let anyone hurt you again,” Max vows fiercely. “Either of you.”

Charles nods, jaw set. “We will keep you both safe, I swear it.”

Their protectiveness makes you feel warm and cherished. You know with your boys watching over you, nothing can touch you or your child.

“I know you will,” you say softly. Drawing their faces down, you kiss them each lovingly.

A fierce joy lights their eyes now as the shock fades. You’re having a baby, the three of you. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together as a family.

Charles presses one more kiss to your lips, tender and full of promise. “I love you so much, all three of you,” he whispers.

Max squeezes your hand, eyes blazing. “I love you too. More than I ever thought possible.”

“And we,” your hand drifts to your still-flat stomach, “love you. My brilliant boys.”

***

The paddock buzzes with excitement on race morning, but for once it has nothing to do with fast cars or famous drivers. All eyes turn your way as you make your way through, one hand resting on your growing bump.

At five months along, your pregnancy is impossible to hide anymore. You’d managed to keep it quiet for a while, but last week an overly zoomed paparazzi shot of you in a fitted dress had let the secret out. Now it seems everyone has an opinion on your relationship dynamic and who the father might be.

You keep your head high, ignoring the whispers. Charles and Max wanted to shield you completely, but you refused to be stuck at home or made to feel ashamed. Besides, their steady presence on either side of you is comfort enough.

Charles presses a supportive hand to your lower back. “How are you feeling, chérie?”

You give him a reassuring smile. “We’re good.” Over your head, his eyes meet Max’s, a silent conversation passing between them. Their protectiveness has ramped up tenfold since finding out you’re pregnant.

Nearing the Red Bull garage, Max steers you towards the bathroom. “I’ll meet you inside in a minute, okay? I just need to check in with my engineers first.”

You nod, squeezing his hand before separating. As you exit the bathroom shortly after, a commotion down the paddock draws your eye. Even from a distance, the man’s imposing figure is recognizable. Your heart drops into your stomach.

Jos Verstappen.

He’s gesturing angrily at a retreating figure, who you realize with dread is Max. You’ve never actually met Max’s father, but from what you’ve heard, the man is bad news. Max has only mentioned him in the past tersely, a shadow passing over his face. Whatever he suffered as a child at Jos’ hands seems to have left deep scars.

As you watch, Jos suddenly wheels around and stalks towards the Red Bull garage, no doubt having caught sight of Max going in. Swearing under your breath, you hurry after him. There’s no way this confrontation ends well.

Inside the garage, the mechanics fall silent at Jos’ dramatic entrance. He pays them no mind, making a beeline for Max, who has gone rigid. You slip in behind Jos, catching Charles’ eye where he stands with the Ferrari crew down the pitlane. His brow furrows in concern but you give a small shake of your head — let Max handle this first.

“Max.” Jos’ tone could freeze over hell. “Care to explain what the hell is going on?”

Max’s face shutters. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”

“The hell you don’t!” Jos snaps. “I had to find out from the goddamn gossip rags that not only are you whoring around with multiple people, but one of them is pregnant? Have you no shame?”

Max flinches, looking stricken. Your hands curl into helpless fists at your sides.

“Watch yourself,” Charles suddenly growls, appearing behind you.

Jos whirls on him with a nasty sneer. “Stay out of this, playboy. This is between me and my son.” He turns back to Max. “Well? Explain yourself.”

Max seems to steel himself, straightening his spine. “There’s nothing to explain. What we have is no one’s business but our own.” His eyes flick to you and Charles briefly and soften before hardening again on his father.

“Bullshit!” Jos snaps. “Have you lost your mind? Carrying on with that girl while she whores around with this one too?” He jabs a finger at Charles then points at your belly. “And you’re telling me you’re fine possibly raising another man’s bastard as your own?”

Max’s expression darkens and he steps forward menacingly. “Watch. Your. Mouth.”

Charles moves closer too, vibrating with anger, but you grab his arm, shaking your head again. Let Max stand up to his father himself.

“We don’t care about who the biological father is,” Max continues fiercely. “That’s our child, no matter what. We’re a family.”

Jos scoffs. “A family? You’re delusional. What happens when those two get bored and leave you behind? This little fantasy you’re living is going to destroy your career.”

“You’re wrong,” Max says sharply. “I love them, and they love me. I’ve never been happier than with them.” His eyes soften again as he looks at you and Charles once more. “I don’t need or want anything else.”

Jos’ lip curls derisively. “Pathetic. I didn’t raise you to be so weak. This ends now, before you ruin your life even more. You will get rid of her and end things with the boy too.”

Charles growls, shaking off your restraining hand to storm forward. But Max beats him to it, getting right in Jos’ face.

“No,” he says, so firmly it brokers no argument. “You don’t control my life anymore. I won’t let you tear apart my family. Now get the hell out of my garage before I have you removed.”

For a moment Jos just gapes, clearly not expecting Max to stand up to him. His face purples with rage but before he can respond, security is there grabbing him by the arms.

“I think it’s time for you to go, sir,” one says firmly, already hauling Jos away.

He struggles in vain, spluttering furiously. But Max has already dismissed him, turning away. Only once Jos is gone does Max seem to deflate, shoulders slumping.

In an instant, you and Charles are both there, wrapping him in your arms. He clutches you both desperately, face buried in your hair.

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that,” you murmur, smoothing a hand over his back.

Charles presses a kiss to his temple. “You were very brave, mon amour. I’m proud of you for standing up to him.”

Max huffs out a shaky laugh. “Didn’t feel very brave. But I meant what I said — I’m not letting anyone take either of you away from me.”

He pulls back to meet your eyes earnestly. “You are my family now. The only thing that matters to me.” His hand comes to rest gently on your belly. “All three of you.”

Emotion clogs your throat and you see Charles blink back tears. You both lean in simultaneously to kiss Max’s cheeks.

“We love you so much,” you whisper fiercely. “And we’ll always be a family, no matter what.”

Charles nods. “You are stuck with us now. We are yours, just as you are ours.”

The last of the tension bleeds from Max’s frame and he gifts you both with a brilliant, beautiful smile. Leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes shine with happy tears.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he says softly. “I have everything I’ll ever need right here.”

You smile through your own tears, heart overflowing. Together, wrapped in the safety of each other’s love, you know everything will be okay.

2K notes · View notes

lemoncrushh · 4 months ago

Text

Filthy Cute

Summary: You and Harry are in a secret relationship, and you get a little jealous when you think he’s flirting with your friend.

Warnings: age gap, forbidden relationship, smut, spanking, possessiveness, oral sex, dirty talk, fingering, edging, daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, breeding kink. 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 6918

Author's Notes: This is a little bit of a twist on the older!harry trope. This is lhh but he’s older and he’s not a CEO or super rich, but a musician who’s already had his moment in the spotlight. While there are no specific ages given, y/n is still living with her parents after college, and Harry is somewhere in his 30s. The title is taken from a lyric of the Prince song “Cream”.

ORIGINALLY POSTED ON PATREON

“Ugh, I’m tired!” whined Piper. “How much longer do we have to be here?”

Pulling your phone out of your back pocket, you checked the time. “Just thirty minutes left.”

Piper continued to pout as she leaned against the brick wall. Since nine that morning, the two of you had been out in the blistering heat washing cars with a handful of other girls for the college dance team fundraiser. While you had already graduated, Piper was still attending and one of the stars of the team, so you agreed to help out when she asked you.

Grabbing your water bottle, you’d chugged about half of it when you heard Piper shout. “Oh my God! It’s that guy!”

“What guy?” you turned your head to see a familiar car pulling up in front of the building next to the car wash.

“That guy that lives down your street. That rockstar guy.”

You almost choked when you saw the long-haired man climb out of the black car. Harry. Your boyfriend. Well…sort of boyfriend. The two of you had secretly been seeing each other for the last three months. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your friends because the relationship was pretty taboo to say the least. He was quite a bit older than you, and with you still living at home, just barely out of school, you knew your parents wouldn’t approve. You’d both agreed to keep it secret for the time being, and to be honest, you found it even more thrilling because of it.

“He must be getting some froyo,” Piper commented as you watched Harry open the door to the yogurt shop. “Nice car, too. I wonder if he needs a wash.”

As though he heard her, Harry pulled his sunglasses off his eyes just in time to catch a glimpse of the both of you. Piper bravely waved at him, and you saw his lips curl up, his dimples dipping in his cheeks. Your stomach flipped when you noticed him release the door from his hand and set his shades on his head, holding back his long hair like a headband. Then in long strides, he walked toward you.

“Hi ladies,” he greeted.

“Hi,” Piper tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “Need a car wash?”

“Maybe,” Harry chuckled. “What’s it for?”

“We’re trying to raise money for the State University Dance Team.”

“The university has a dance team?” Harry raised a brow. His gaze shifted to you, though you weren’t the one speaking. You simply smiled at him as his eyes silently said what your insides did.

“Of course!” Piper giggled. “I’m the captain!”

“Oh!” Harry returned his attention to her, giving her a salute. “Well then, Captain, where shall I park my boat?”

You watched your friend turn bright red as she tried her best not to laugh too loudly. “Over there in that spot would be great,” she pointed.

“Right then. I’ll be right back,” Harry winked which only added to Piper’s giggles.

You caught the gleam in Harry’s eyes before he turned toward his car, unlocking it with the key fob. Then rolling your own eyes, you grabbed your bucket and brought it to the hose to fill it.

“He’s really hot up close,” remarked Piper as she stood next to you. You felt your skin prickle. Of course he was. You knew this firsthand. But you weren’t about to tell her that. “Isn’t he like forty or something?”

A laugh burst from your throat then, unavoidably. “No. He’s…in his thirties…I think.”

“Whatever,” Piper shrugged. “He looks good.”

As Harry pulled up the drive and into the spot Piper had indicated, you quickly grabbed your sponge and got to washing his car, before he even got out.

“Woah, quick little thing, you are,” he said when you saw his boot hit the pavement next to you.

“Y/N, that’s rude!” Piper hissed just as Harry shut his door. “Sorry about that, Mr…”

“Styles. But please, call me Harry,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Alright, Harry,” your friend beamed, shaking his hand. “I’m Piper.”

“Lovely to meet you, Piper. And you’re…Y/N?” he pointed at you.

You rolled your eyes again at his blatant attempt to pretend he didn’t know you. You supposed it was for the best, but you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. At what exactly, you weren’t sure.

“Yes,” you nodded, scrubbing his rear fender.

“And you’re both on the dance team?” Harry gestured.

“No, Y/N’s not,” said Piper as she bent over to wet her sponge in her bucket. “Just me…and the rest of my team there. Y/N’s already graduated, but she’s my bestie so she was sweet enough to volunteer.”

“That was very kind of you.” You looked up to see a sincere expression on his face. You smiled, earning one back from him.

“Well this will take a little while, Mr. Sty- I mean, Harry,” Piper blushed. “We have waters and sodas over there in that cooler if you want anything to drink while you wait.”

“Actually, I was thinking of grabbing something next door.”

“Oh,” Piper nodded. “Perfect.”

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Harry waved, giving you what seemed like an extra long stare before turning for the yogurt shop.

“Hey, is this the last car of the day?” another one of the girls, Ana, called out as she walked toward you. The SUV she and two other girls had been washing pulled out of the parking lot, looking shiny and new.

“Yeah, I think so,” you said. “Wanna give us a hand?”

“Of course, the sooner we can get out of here, the better! I’m starved!”

Ana waved over the other girls, and before you knew it, the teamwork had paid off and Harry’s car was sparkling.

“Thanks so much, guys,” you said. “I appreciate your help.”

“Yeah, good job ladies!” cheered Piper, giving the other three high fives. “You can go if you want. We’ll wait here for our payment and we’ll clean up the buckets and stuff.”

The rest of the team thanked you for participating, giving you hugs. You all giggled when your wet shirts wanted to cling together.

“Well, what do you think?” asked Piper with a grin. “Do you think Mr. Styles will be pleased?”

You stood back to admire your work. “Yeah, I think-”

“I think he’ll be very pleased,” you heard a voice say.

Lifting your eyes, you saw Harry walking up the drive, a froyo cup in each hand, a grin on his handsome face.

“Excellent job, ladies,” he said, stepping closer to you and Piper. “I reckon you’ve earned a treat.”

You nearly choked at his words, suddenly in a fit of coughs. That was one of his phrases he used with you in bed when you’d “been a good girl” as he put it. Piper eyed you with wide eyes of her own, urging you to stop coughing until you reached for a water from the table.

“You alright, Y/N?” asked Harry. “Was it something I said?”

After guzzling half the bottle, you looked at him with narrowed eyes and a set jaw. He smirked, knowing full well what he was doing before turning back to Piper.

“Anyway, I do intend to pay, don’t worry,” he chuckled holding out a cup of vanilla with sprinkles. “Just wanted to give you two a little extra for your hard work.”

“Wow, thanks Mr. Styles,” beamed Piper as she took the yogurt from him.

“Harry, please,” he insisted.

“Harry…” she smiled wide.

You didn’t miss the way she shifted her weight onto her right hip and tilted her head at him. You also didn’t miss the way Harry’s eyes landed on her wet t-shirt, the damp material clinging to her chest and revealing the outline of her bra. Then spooning a bit of the froyo, Piper stuck out her tongue and met the spoon with it, giving it a not-so-subtle suck.

Clearing your throat, you set down your water bottle. Harry turned to you, holding out his other hand.

“For you, love,” he said.

Your hands grazed each other as you took your cup, Harry’s pinky finger locking around yours for just a moment before he let go.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

“You’re very welcome,” he said.

The chill of the frozen yogurt instantly cooled you and made you calm - that is until Harry reached for his wallet and pulled out some cash.

“Um…I suppose I give this to the captain?” he asked.

“Mmm, yes, I’ll take that, thank you!” squealed Piper, popping the spoon from her mouth and quickly taking the bills from him. Then she stopped, her jaw wide open as she gasped. “Mr. Styles! This is two twenties! The car wash is only five!”

Harry shrugged, a smug expression on his handsome face. “Consider it a contribution.”

“Wow! Thank you Mr. S-, I mean…Harry. That’s really sweet of you.”

You didn’t miss the way Piper batted her lashes at him, nor the way he responded silently with a wink. Deciding you’d had enough of this awkward little show, you set down your yogurt cup and pulled out your phone.

“Hey Piper, I’m getting an Uber now,” you announced. “We should probably finish cleaning up.”

“Oh,” she blinked, looking over at you as though she’d forgotten you were there. “Yeah, okay.”

“Wait, an Uber?” Harry glared at you, then back at your friend.

“Yeah, I know it’s kinda funny for us to do a car wash when neither of us have a car of our own,” Piper chuckled. “But you know, broke college girl here. And Y/N sometimes drives her mom’s car, but she needed it today.”

Although Harry knew your vehicle situation already, you shrugged.

“Oh, well c’mon, we can’t have you spending money when I have a car right here. I’d be happy to drive you ladies home.”

“Seriously?” Piper beamed.

“Of course. I was headed home anyway. I have no other plans.”

You looked at Piper who looked at you with wide eyes. “If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes,” you pointed out. “We just have to clean up.”

“Yeah, plus we have to bring the buckets and cooler and stuff with us. Is that okay?” added Piper.

“No problem at all,” said Harry. “I’ll go ahead and load the ice chest into the boot.”

You couldn’t help but smile as your handsome boyfriend opened his trunk and lifted the heavy cooler, his muscles flexing. Just as your mind started thinking of the things you hoped he would do with those muscles later, Piper knocked your shoulder with hers, getting your attention.

“Look at him, he’s so hot and lean!” she breathed through her teeth. “I wanna climb him like a tree.”

Part of you wanted to snap at her that he was yours and not up for grabs, but you knew better. Instead, you reached for a bucket to rinse out just as he slammed the trunk shut.

“Ready when you are, ladies,” Harry announced. “I’ll get the a/c going so you won’t die of a heat stroke.”

“I think I’m already dying,” Piper fanned herself as she crouched down to scrub the other bucket.

Once the buckets and sponges were all rinsed out, you turned off the hose while Piper carried them to Harry’s car, opening the back door. You heard them laughing as you made your way to the passenger side.

“All done,” you declared when you noticed Piper had already claimed the front seat. Sliding into the back next to the buckets, you quickly buckled your seatbelt before lifting your eyes to catch Harry’s looking at you in the rearview mirror.

“Wanna put your address in the GPS there, Piper?” he directed as he pulled out of the lot.

Once Piper had done as instructed, you sat back and listened as the two of them somehow slipped into an easy, casual conversation about school and the dance team. Your friend then asked Harry if he was a musician to which he chuckled.

“I am, yeah,” he smirked.

“Ooh, I thought so. Are you like a rockstar?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that. I was in a band. We made a few records.”

“Would I know any of your songs?” Piper inquired.

“Maybe. Depends on what you listen to.”

“Do you have any you could play for us?”

You groaned, hoping to God he didn’t. Not that his music wasn’t any good. On the contrary - you thought it was remarkable. But just like Harry himself, you weren’t ready to share any part of him with anyone else just yet. He was yours alone, and you wanted to keep it that way.

Harry laughed, “Not on me, sorry.”

You caught the pout on Piper’s lips which made you grin. You quickly wiped the smile off your face though when Piper turned to look at you.

“Should I ask him to sing for us?”

Before you could reply, Harry chuckled harder, shaking his head. “I’m afraid the answer would be no, love.”

“Aww, why not?” Piper whined.

“Because…” he paused, his eyes catching yours in the rearview again. “I don’t perform on the spot.” Then he looked at Piper. “Not without my guitar, at least.”

“Bummer,” Piper sighed, sitting back in her seat. “Sorry, Y/N, looks like Mr. Styles isn’t a real rockstar after all.”

“What?” Harry snorted.

“I guess you just look like one,” Piper quipped.

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. But you noticed the dimples in his cheeks and the gleam in his eye. He was loving the attention.

Fortunately, just at that moment, the GPS directed Harry to turn right into Piper’s neighborhood. Then making a quick left, and another right, he pulled into her parents’ driveway. Opening the trunk, he quickly retrieved the cooler, setting it down on the pavement. Piper grabbed the buckets from the back seat next to you, giving you a look.

“I’ll call you later,” she mouthed.

You simply nodded. She thanked you again for helping out before shutting the door. You heard her thank Harry as he dragged the cooler up the driveway and onto the carport where he stopped and gave her a hug. You didn’t miss the way he pulled her close when she threw her arms around him. You pretended to be inspecting your nails when he returned to the car and slid in behind the wheel.

“Do you wanna get in the front seat now?” he asked you.

“No,” you replied curtly, gazing out the window.

“What? Why not?”

Sighing through your nose, you lifted your eyes. “She’s still watching,” you muttered.

“Oh,” Harry sounded, stealing a glance back at Piper. “So. You can still come sit up here beside me.”

“It’s okay,” you said.

Shifting the car into reverse, Harry stretched his arm across the back of the passenger seat, his expression berating, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Something wrong with you, Y/N?” he asked as he backed out of the driveway. Then shifting into drive, he gave a quick wave to Piper who waved back before heading down her street.

“No.”

“Y/N?” His jade eyes met yours again in the rearview mirror as he turned onto the main road. You rode in silence for a minute or two before he said your name again. “Y/N. What is it, kitten?”

You scoffed at his pet name for you, the sound of it from his lips making you even more perturbed. How dare he use it now after what he’d just so blatantly done in front of you!

“What the fuck was that?” you blurted, the jealousy that had been boiling in your gut finally making its way to your mouth.

“What was what?”

“That!”

“Wh- you’ll have to be more specific, love. What is that?”

“There are no specifics. It was the whole afternoon. Ever since you arrived! You were fucking flirting with her the entire time! Right in front of me!”

“I was not!”

“Yes you were! Don’t try to deny it, Harry! I was there. I saw it with my own eyes!”

You saw Harry’s shoulders shake as he was no doubt laughing silently at your expense. Asshole.

“Y/N, I was not flirting with your friend. If anything, she was coming on to me.”

“But you let her,” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest again in defiance.

“What was I supposed to do, kitten? Tell her about us? I know that’s not what you want.”

“No,” you shook your head. “But you didn’t have to act like you enjoyed it.”

Harry chuckled, slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes. You scowled, knowing he did that on purpose so you couldn’t see his expression and if he was looking at you.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N. I’ve told you I’m yours, that you’re the only one I care about. I can’t help it if your cute friend decided to flirt with me.”

“So, you admit you thought she was cute.”

Harry’s condescending laugh rang throughout the car as he made a left turn. “I’m not even going to respond to that, kitten. I did nothing wrong. I helped out you and your friend with her little charity thing. It was a nice thing to do. And I offered you both a ride because it’s also a nice thing to do.”

“You know, you don’t always have to be so goddamn charming,” you huffed.

“And you don’t have to be such a brat.”

Even with his shades on, you could tell he was getting angry with you. Fine, you thought. Let him. You’d been angry ever since he’d shown up.

When he turned onto your street, you noticed he didn’t slow down when he approached your house.

“You- you passed my house,” you commented.

“Not taking you home,” said Harry.

You huffed as he kept driving and only slowed when he neared his own driveway. Biting your lip, you watched him pull into the garage, put the car in park and turn off the engine. Slipping off his shades, he eyed you in the mirror before exiting the car and walking around to your side.

“Get out,” he commanded when he opened your door. When you didn’t, he held out his hand. “C’mon, kitten, don’t make Daddy angry.”

You gazed up at him then, your eyes wide. You only used the D word in the bedroom. Was he planning to take you there now? Hesitantly, you took his hand and let him help you out of the car. When he slammed the door shut, you noticed his jaw was set, his brows knitted again. Dropping your hand, he headed for the door, pushing the button to close the garage.

Once inside, he dropped his keys on the kitchen counter, and with his back to you, he opened the refrigerator to grab a beer, guzzling half of it before shutting the door. You wondered for a moment why he’d driven you to his place and made you get out of the car if he was just going to give you the silent treatment. But when he turned to face you, his expression stoic, you worried he was even angrier than you’d thought.

“You’re a brat, Y/N. You know that, yeah?”

“No, I-”

“Don’t talk back to me. You know I’m right.” Setting the beer on the counter, he walked toward you.

“I wasn’t trying to be a brat, Harry,” you argued, your emotions building up in your throat. “I didn’t like seeing you…looking at Piper…the way you look at me.”

“Are you serious, kitten?” Harry tilted his head. “There is no fucking way I was-”

“Well it seemed like it to me!” you exclaimed, your fists at your sides.

“C’mere!” Harry shouted, grabbing your arm. He led you through the living room, down the hall to his bedroom. “Do you need me to prove that I’m only looking at you?”

Sitting down on the bed, Harry wiggled his finger, beckoning you.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Bend over. Brats deserve a spanking.”

You simply stared him in disbelief, not moving an inch.

“C’mon, little girl,” he demanded. “You must be punished.”

“Harry, I-”

“Nope. Not Harry. You don’t get to call me that when you’re being a brat.”

A whimper rose from your throat. He was really planning on spanking you. To prove a point? You weren’t sure exactly.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered before bending over his lap.

You felt his big hand slide up your thigh, to the edge of your denim shorts. When it reached your ass, you flinched, bracing yourself for the smack.

“You know why Daddy has to do this, don’t you, kitten?” Harry voiced as he held you down with his other arm across your back.

“Y-yes, sir,” you replied shakily.

“Why?”

“Because…I was bad.”

“Very bad. Not only were you a jealous little brat, but you talked back to me. You even shouted at me. We can’t have that.”

The first blow surprised you, a quick slap on your denim-covered rear end that made you jump.

“I do nothing but show you how special you are to me, how valuable. I respect your wishes to keep our relationship secret. I’m not seeing anyone else. It’s just you, kitten. But you decide that’s not good enough for you. You have to find jealousy where there is none to find.”

Another spank, harder than the first one had you gripping the bedding in front of you. “I-I’m sorry, D-daddy.”

“If anyone’s jealous, it should be me,” Harry continued. “I’m jealous that I don’t get to flaunt you in public, show everyone you’re my sweet, beautiful princess. I’m jealous of everyone that gets to be with you all the time, the way I wanna be.”

Your eyes began to water when Harry spanked you again, a little lower on your bum, close to your thigh. That one stung, and was sure to leave a mark. However, the tears may have also been from hearing his confession. He’d never told you that before. You assumed he wanted the relationship secret.

You heard his breath hitch after he spanked you once more, his hand rubbing the tender flesh that he’d just heated underneath the hem of your shorts. Though you waited for another spank, you were surprised when none came, and instead, Harry’s hand continued to fondle your delicate skin. When his thumb grazed the edge of your panties, pushing the slender strip of fabric between your legs to the side, your toes instantly curled as you anticipated his next move. You felt him remove his hand for a moment, only to return with wet fingers which he swiftly used to lubricate your folds. You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips as you hiked up your hips for better friction.

But Harry was having none of that. “Shh. Be quiet,” he scolded.

Biting your lip, you remained still and silent as Harry resumed his petting. Then ever so gently, he slipped just his fingertips into your already pulsing hole. You gripped the bedspread underneath you, wishing there was a pillow or something to bite, to muffle the moans that were coming, and more that were sure to soon follow.

“This sweet little pussy is mine,” he declared, “I’ve claimed it. But you don’t seem to understand what that means.”

Sliding his wet fingers deeper into you, even wetter now from your juices, he groaned. You swallowed hard, trying your damnedest not to make a sound, but it was difficult. He always knew exactly where to touch you, how deep and with just the right amount of pressure. When he began to pump his hand faster, you clawed at his thigh underneath you, breathing hard and jagged through your nose.

“It means I’m yours too, kitten. That Daddy worships you and your sweet, tight cunt. And I don’t want anyone else’s. I wanna watch you writhe underneath me, or on top of me just like this. Because you’re Daddy’s filthy cute little kitten.”

A deep moan rose to your throat before you could stop it, escaping your lips like a bubble. You knew if he kept this up you would come soon.

But just as you thought you might explode, your stomach tight and your core clenching, Harry stopped and pulled out his fingers. You whined against the bed, the absence of his fingers cause a severe ache between your legs.

“Daddy?” you dared to whisper through a panting breath.

But Harry didn’t reply. Instead, he spanked you again, hard against your pussy. Punishment, that’s what this was. You should have known he wouldn’t let you come, not just yet. He hadn’t proven his point yet. You laid there quiet, waiting for his next move.

“On your knees,” you suddenly heard him say.

Sliding off the bed, you knelt before him on the floor, your eyes wide and pleading. Removing his boots, Harry wasted no time unbuttoning his jeans, rising from the bed to push them down. You could already see the outline of his erection through his briefs as he stood gazing down at you.

“You know what I want you to do,” he said, his eyelids already heavy, his arousal apparent.

You nodded, unsure if you were allowed to speak. But when you reached for his underwear, he grabbed your hand, stopping you.

“This is not part of the punishment, kitten,” Harry conveyed. “I just want you to show me you want only me, just like I want only you.”

You nodded again as you pulled down his briefs, his hard cock springing free in front of your face. You blinked as you felt yourself blush. Even though you’d had him in your mouth and your pussy several times now, his lovely, thick penis never failed to excite you.

Taking it in your hand, you squeezed gently, preparing to lubricate it. But again, Harry stopped you, cupping your chin to look up at him.

“Show me how much you appreciate it, baby. How much you love having it in your mouth, just like the filthy little girl you are. You can do that, can’t you, love? You can speak now.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you replied emphatically.

“You like to make me feel good don’t you?” Harry asked as you spit on the tip and began stroking him.

“Very much,” you smiled.

“Yeah…” Harry hitched a breath as you stuck out your tongue and brought his hard cock to meet it, wetting the underside. Then he dragged his fingers through your hair, urging you to take him deeper.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you sucked him, earning another gasp from him. Then bringing your free hand up, you gently held onto his hip while you gave your jaw a break, licking around his shaft in circles.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned. “You’re so good at this, kitten. Such a filthy cute girl, you are. And you love it don’t you?”

Your eyes met him as you enveloped your lips around him once again. Humming in agreement, you took him deeper, knowing he always praised you when you did.

“Yes, you love sucking on my big, hard cock, don’t you princess? Taking it so deep, so well. Fuck, you’re an angel.”

As you continued, Harry sighed, removing his shirt and letting it fall beside you. Then with a big groan, he tangled his fingers in your hair again, gently thrusting his hips. You felt your eyes water as you took him the deepest you ever had, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged for just a moment, popping off of him to swallow and do it again. Harry seemed pleased.

“That’s enough, baby,” you heard him say, his voice low and raspy. “I need to fuck that tight little cunt now.”

You gazed up at him, an easy grin on your face, your saliva sticking to the tip of his bulbous head.

“Yes, Daddy,” you nodded, happy to move on to the next step. Your pussy was throbbing, and you knew if you didn’t feel him inside you soon, you’d perish.

Stepping out if his jeans and underwear, Harry reached for you, lifting your arms to remove your shirt. Then he pulled you into a deep kiss, fucking your mouth with his tongue. You sucked on it with a moan, earning one from him as well.

“Tell me, baby,” he murmured as he unfasted your bra and hastily reached for your shorts. “Tell me how much you love my cock - how badly you need it.”

“I love it so much, Daddy,” you declared hurrying to remove your shoes. “It’s so big. And you fuck me so good.”

“Do you think about it when you’re not with me?” Harry asked.

“All the time,” you nodded, gasping when his finger slipped inside your panties. “Please, Daddy…I need it. I need it all the time…”

“‘s that why you’re always wet like this?” he smirked, his calloused fingertip rubbing sensually against your clit. “Always ready for me, hmm?”

“Yes.”

“That makes me feel good, kitten. I like knowing you’re thinking about me.”

“Only you, Daddy.”

In once swift movement, Harry grabbed you and lifted you up and around to the bed. Laying you down, he pulled down your already soaking panties, tossing them next to your shoes.

You stared at him as he hovered over you, his hard cock knocking against your stomach. You started to slide your hands up his arms until he stopped you with one hand. You frowned, worried that his punishment was not over after all.

“You can touch me later, princess,” he informed you, pinning down your wrists. “Right now you’re just going to take my cock, every bit of it. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you blinked.

“Tell me how it feels. I wanna hear it from your filthy little mouth. But do not come until I say you can. Alright?”

You let out a small whimper before nodding. “Yes, sir.”

Before he even entered you, you knew his request was going to be difficult. Sex with Harry was nothing if not incredible. He always made you come, and sometimes with multiple orgasms. Why he even doubted how much you enjoyed it and thought about it when he wasn’t around was surprising to you. You felt like it was completely obvious, regardless of your words of praise. But if that’s what he wanted now, you were more than happy to oblige. It was just going to be so hard not to come. And you realized it tenfold as soon as you felt his big, hard cock enter you slowly.

“Mmm, Daddy…” you purred.

“Yes, kitten,” Harry chuckled low. Peppering kisses along your neck and jaw, he bucked his hips, hitting the magic spot.

“You’re so big,” you gasped. “Fuck, you fill me completely.”

“Yeah…you like that, don’t you baby. You like that stretch.”

“Mmhm,” you sounded as he began to thrust. “Oh God, I missed your cock so much.”

“Yeah, you want it everyday, baby?”

“Yessss…” you cried when he hit that spot again, making your toes curl.

“Mmmm, that can be arranged. Just gotta say the word.”

You threw your head back as Harry pumped harder, wanting desperately to claw his back but he still had your wrists held down. Panting between each thrust, you knew you could come soon, but Harry wouldn’t allow it. Not yet. But you were so close already.

“Ohhh, Daddy!” you cried. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”

Harry growled, finally releasing your wrists to slip his hands underneath you, lifting your hips slightly.

“You take me so well, darling,” he breathed. “Fuckin’ little cunt just for me.”

“Yes!”

“So wet…so warm…” he cooed, kissing your lips between each word. “Such a good girl.”

“Please, Daddy…” you whined, daring to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Oh God, please.”

“Please what, baby?”

“I’m…oh fuck, I’m so close…”

Suddenly, Harry paused his thrusts, slipping out of your folds completely. You muttered a “no” as he hovered over you, staring into your eyes.

“Not yet, kitten,” he shook his head, his brows furrowed. His expression had returned to the scolding look, and you swallowed hard at the intensity it portrayed.

You bit your lip as you stifled a moan, and you felt the tears welling in your eyes. Harry seemed to have taken to this edging thing, and you weren’t sure you liked it very much. What you wanted was to come all over his cock, multiple times if possible. But this was obviously not like the other times you’d fucked. This was…torture.

“You come when I say you can, remember?”

You blinked rapidly. “Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

“Good girl,” he said, kissing your forehead.

“Can…can I touch you now? Please?”

Harry’s face softened, his lips curling into a gentle smile. “Yes, baby. Thank you for asking.”

Returning the grin, you reached for his long hair that fell around you, running your hands through it until your fingertips met his handsome face. He softly closed his eyes with a hum as you glided your thumbs across his cheeks. You really loved his face - even when he looked angry. But you especially loved it in moments like this, when he looked soft and happy…almost tender.

Then sliding your hands around his neck, you pulled him to you to caress his full, pillowy lips. He groaned low against your mouth as his own hands slid down your sides. Then lifting your hips again, he entered you with a long, deep thrust.

“Ohhhh,” you breathed against him.

“Take me, honey,” Harry moaned. “My God, you’ve got some kind of hold on me.”

“I do?” you whispered, wondering if he was just spouting rubbish because he was close as well.

“Fuck, yes, kitten. Daddy doesn’t like to get cross with you.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry I was a brat. I know now you only want me.”

“That’s right, baby…” Harry sped up his thrusts, letting out a deep, guttural moan.

You could feel yourself reaching the edge again, your core tightening as he fucked you hard and deep. The wet, squelching sounds of his hard cock moving in and out of your pussy, his balls hitting your ass were enough to make you cry out.

“Fuck, Daddy! Mmmm, feels so good!”

“Tell me…”

“It’s so hard, so deep. Nobody fucks me like you do, Daddy.”

“Oh yes, kitten. You only want my cock, yeah?”

“Yes…aaahhhhh…”

You grabbed hold of your thighs, looping your arms underneath your knees to keep them up, open and wide. You didn’t think you could hold out much longer, and when you heard Harry moan again, sexy expletives in your ear, you lost it.

“Please Daddy, can I come, please? I need to so bad. I’m right there!” you cried, more tears springing from the corners of your eyes.

“Yes, kitten. Come all over me. You’ve been such a good girl.”

With a few more whimpers as Harry pumped deep inside of you, the dam finally broke and you covered his hard cock with your juices. Throwing your head back, you cried out.

“Aaa-aaaa-uuuugggghhh!”

“That’s it, baby. That’s my girl,” he cooed, his warm, deep voice vibrating in your ear.

“Ohhh, thank you, Daddy. Thank you.”

“Yeah, baby. Was that good?”

“So good. Oh God…” you panted, coming down from your orgasm as Harry held you. He kissed you tenderly, rubbing his nose against yours.

“You’re so beautiful when you come, kitten. I almost feel bad for making you wait.”

You smiled with your eyes closed, knowing full well that he wore a smirk. But you’d let him have his moment of triumph. Because you also knew he wasn’t finished with you yet.

Patting the underside of your thigh, Harry murmured, “Turn over, baby.”

With only a tiny moan of protest because you were spent, you rolled over onto your stomach, immediately propping yourself on your knees and gripping the pillow underneath you. Bracing yourself for a quick thrust, you were once again surprised when you felt Harry slither down the end of the bed to situate his face at your already saturated yet satisfied pussy. He gave your ass a quick slap before quickly extending his tongue to lap up your juices. You called out when he did it a second time, leaving his tongue to linger on your clit.

“Fuck…” you whimpered as he began seducing you with his tongue, moving in delicate laps and circles. “Daddy, you’ll make me come again.”

“Mmhmm,” you heard him agree, his hands gripping your thighs tightly.

Your ass in the air, you bucked against him, needing the friction to come. But he was merely teasing you with his tongue, barely ghosting over your tender flesh before applying the slightest bit of pressure.

“Uuuggghhhh Daddy, please!” you cried.

“What do you want, baby?” he asked, lifting his head. Then he slapped his hand across your cunt. “Is this sweet little pussy gonna come again for Daddy?”

“Uh huh,” you managed to breathe.

“Do you want my cock again, or my tongue?”

“B-both.”

Harry chuckled, patting you again. “Don’t reckon that’s possible at once, but I love how insatiable you are. Filthy.”

You groaned just as you felt him insert a finger. Then another. Then lowering himself back down, he kissed your butt cheek. His fingers pumped your pussy as his tongue teased your hole, his other hand spreading you open. You mewled, fisting the pillow by your head, willing him to do all the dirty things he wanted. But your legs were trembling as his fingertips curled inside you, tapping on your softest spot.

“Fuck!” you panted.

When Harry’s tongue met your folds again, he reached his other hand around to pinch your clit. And that was when you came undone. You cried out as your juices squirted, your knees no longer able to hold you up. Harry kept his fingers inside you as you laid flat on the bed until you were no longer trembling.

“Wow, such a good girl, baby,” Harry cooed against your back. “That was pretty intense, yeah?”

“I think I made a mess of the bed,” you muttered against the pillow.

Harry chuckled, his slender, firm body covering yours as he made his way to your shoulder, kissing it before pushing your hair from your cheek.

“Think you got one more for me, kitten?” he asked softly.

“No,” you said honestly.

He laughed harder, guiding you onto your knees again. “Can we try?”

“Okay…” you sighed, still wanting to please him. Though your body was spent at the moment, you knew that once he had his cock inside you, you’d come to life again.

And you were right. As soon as his dick slipped into your pussy - although a bit sore - you were ready for him to pound you again.

As he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against your mound, your fingernails dug into the bed. And when he started to moan, his hands gripping your ass, you wanted nothing more than to make him come.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you pleaded. “Just like that.”

“Oh baby, I’m so close,” he panted.

“Yes, Daddy. Come inside me.”

“You want me to come inside your sweet pussy, baby?” he asked, his breaths quickened.

“Yes! I need it, Daddy.”

His thrusts got harder and faster as he groaned louder. Then reaching between you, you cupped his balls, earning a deep moan from him.

“Fuck yeah….uuuunnnnngggghhhh.”

With two last bucks of his hips, Harry stopped and cursed loudly. You could hear him exhaling heavily, his hands still pressed against your hips.

“Fuck, babe, you’re amazing. Oh, my sweet little kitten.”

You sighed as you felt him slip out of you. Then he rolled you over and climbed up to kiss your lips.

“A naughty little thing you are, though,” he smirked. “I can’t believe you let me do all that.”

“I was a bad girl,” you blinked.

Chuckling through a breath, Harry ran his hand through his hair, then laid down next to you. “I have to admit, love. I was turned on that you were a wee bit jealous.”

“So you were flirting with her, I knew it!” you exclaimed.

“No, I wasn’t,” he laughed. “At least not on purpose.”

Pursing your lips, you gave him a look.

“I swear to you, honey. I was not looking or thinking about anyone else but you. As soon as I saw you stood there in your short little shorts and your wet t-shirt…I knew I had to find a way to get you home as soon as possible.”

“Really?”

“Truly. Your friend just happened to be there, and I wasn’t gonna be rude.”

You bit your lip and shrugged. “I guess I can accept that.”

With a grin, Harry leaned over and placed another kiss on your lips. “Now, let’s go wash up and I’ll take you to dinner.”

“In public?” you asked with wide eyes.

Harry’s smile widened, making you melt. “If you like.”

Sitting up, you considered his offer for a moment. Your relationship had been secret for a while now. You’d had dinner with him at his place before, had ordered take-out or gone through a drive-thru a handful of times. But you’d yet to go out in public like a real date. Your eyes darted around the room before you licked your lips and nodded, taking his hand.

“Yes, Harry. I’d like that.”

Thank you to those who subscribed to my Patreon. It is just not for me, unfortunately, and I apologize for not giving you more content. I love you from the bottom of my heart.

Special thanks to @freedomfireflies, @fkinavocado, @gurugirl and @monicaalexandraaa for the encouragement 💗.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

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w2sology · 10 months ago

Note

harry, private but not secret relationship.

(i hope u understand what i mean 😭)

i know exactly what you mean and i LOVE this type of trope so so much 🤭

under the sheets, harry lewis.

summary: everyone knows that you and harry are together, yet no one really knows what goes on in your relationship. but when fans get little snippets, they can't help but fawn over you both.

warnings: mentions of sex

having been together since before harry had started youtube, all his friends knew you, and of your status as his girlfriend. but with his rapid incoming fame, you thought it would be better to shy away from the spotlight.

and of course, harry respected this. but he was still gonna let people know that he was in a relationship.

it started off with small mentions of you in his videos. "my girlfriend got me this the other day... my girlfriend said that... i know my girlfriend would like to..." but never fully dropping your name.

everyone knew you were together, but hardly anything about your relationship was ever revealed unless harry said something or if the boys mentioned you briefly.

whether or not you had a public account on socials varied, you liked to switch between public and private.

harry, bot being the average active social media user, would hardly post things. yet most of the time when he did, it would always correspond to you.

a snap of a restaurant with your plate opposite his, a walk in the park with a dog you were dog sitting, your leg just about in the frame, or if he was bold enough, a mirror pic that you took, your face covered by your camera but his fully visibly as he stared lovingly at you through the mirror.

slowly but surely, you would join in too on the secret snapshots into your relationship.

it would start with a post on your story of a picture you took on harry's phone whilst he was on set with the boys, and it was clearly his phone because of how fucked up it was. then it would progress to making tiktoks while wearing clothes that were so obviously his.

it was cute to see you two showing bits of each other online whilst not giving away too much, but god did it have fans dying for more.

when thy'd run into you two in public, you found it so cute that they'd take the time to speak to you as well as harry, even if you'd shy away so as to not interrupt them and harry.

but harry would still have you close by; a fan once posted a selfie that they took with him, and his hand furthest away from their body could be seen in the corner of the picture still intertwined with yours.

when harry was on twitch, streaking either by himself of with his friends, you'd occasionally peak inside the room to check on him, not realising that you were on camera.

one time, you were so tired when you cane back from work that all you wanted to do was lay in bed with harry, but when you figured out he was streaming, you figured his arms would suffice.

so you quietly opened the door to his room, and found yourself snuggling into his arms. harry was surprised, probably putting two and two together and realising that you didn't really care what was on camera, and so returned your embrace. that stream absolutely rocked people's worlds.

and the dates !!! the dates would be the cutest things EVER. he didn't mind going all out but he also wasn't against the occasion cosy date indoors.

on the odd time you did get out, of course there would be pictures and videos of you two sitting in close proximity in a cosy booth at a restaurant, both you all smiles and harry not being able to take his hands off of you.

and if there was one thing about harry, he loved physical touch.

it pained him to not be all over you in public because you didn't want to showcase your relationship like that, but he still found a way to make sure he was either near you or touching you.

be that a hand on your thigh under the table or linking your pinky fingers together when you stood near him.

and the way he'd kiss you; he'd look at you to make sure it was okay to do so before gently placing his lips on yours, pulling you in closer to him.

and even though he can hear simon and toby's shouts of "ew" or "look at those lovebirds" he simply waves them off whilst you hide your face in his chest.

harry loved to have you as his little secret thing, it gave him an even bigger energy rush than he usually had; the idea of being caught was just so exciting to him.

like when he rocks up to filming with a few hickies around his neck, unable to have covered them with his compression shirt that he mistakenly wore.

the comments under that video were enough to you have you covering your face when harry brought it up, as well as the digs that the boys took at you and harry apparently "going at it like animals."

but harry didn't care, it was the best part of the relationship and he got to keep it all to himself, unless he slipped up in front of the camera that was.

#wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #sidemen x reader #wroetoshaw imagines #harry lewis x reader #sidemen #wroetoshaw imagine #harry lewis

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ellieslittlewh0re · 1 year ago

Text

ִ ⋆｡ °✩ ❝ 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄 𝐋♡𝐕𝐄 ❞ ✩°｡⋆

(𝒘𝒌) 5k

〚𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒〛 ✰ rockerstar! ellie x groupie! reader ✰

〚𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒〛 ellie williams. her name was everywhere- the underground music’s next breakout star, and for a good reason too- a honeyed voice mixed with gravel, her passion, energy, the fact she was everything rock and roll should be. also, let’s not forget the sex appeal.

〚𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒〛 sex, love, drugs, and rock and roll. !!TW!! for descriptions of drug usage ( c0cain, L$D) fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), strap on usage (r! receiving) overstim kinda, dom e!, sub r!

It started with a video- a grainy, shity quality one at that, but still a video. She was center stage of some grungy bar from the looks of it, spotlights illuminating her face enough to see stands of her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat, and a chipped cherry red electric guitar hanging from her shoulder. She was magnetic, hypnotizing- not just with her performance, but her looks as well.

From that day on, you just had the desire to get closer to her in any way you could.

It had been two months since you started following her band while they toured across the West Coast. You had been to every show, seen every performance, and Ellie was starting to catch on.

The first time she saw you, you immediately caught Ellie's attention- I mean, how could you not? You were by far the hottest girl in the venue that night, swinging your hips so effortlessly it put the rest of the girls to shame. Ellie remembers that night vividly because she was so pissed she couldn't find you after the show to bring you back to her shitty motel room and have her way with you. But Ellie quickly forgot about you when the company of two other girls took your place that night, along with a few too many hits of whatever her drug of choice was during that time.

So, that's how you ended up here- at a run down gas station bathroom touching up your makeup in the middle of the fucking desert, and a van full of strangers that you were currently hitching a ride with waiting outside at the pumps.

And Ellie? Well, Ellie was doing what she always does before a show- drugs, and lots of them, whether it was molly, coke, weed, tabs, or maybe even a deadly concoction of all the above, she didn't care as long as it made her feel alive- claiming it made her perform better or something, but really she just liked being fucked up while fucking girls after the show.

While Ellie was living this "glamorous" rockstar lifestyle, you were on the complete opposite end- quitting your day job to follow some girl around who doesn't even know your name and catching rides from people who definitely look like they have seen the inside of a prison cell- AKA, you were a groupie.

The air was hot, stale. A thin layer of orangy, rust-colored sand coated the windows and the van's gaudy upholstery. The landscape outside flashed like an old fashioned reel movie, cacti, shrubs, Joshua trees, and repeat.

It was desolate, and if the road and occasional mile marker wasn't there to remind you, you would've thought you were on a different planet.

"Your stop is next, daisy." The man with a handle bar mustache yelled from the drivers seat, meeting your eyes in the review mirror.

Daisy. A nickname given to you by the group when they first picked you up further up north. You had a daisy tucked behind your ear, and from then on, you were daisy.

It was dark by the time you arrived at the venue, venue isn't really how you would describe it. It was more like a diner turned bar turned into whatever the fuck it was currently. You waved your goodbyes to the the group of not-so-strange strangers, all of them bidding you 'farewells' and 'good lucks' before you watched the red tails fade into the pitch dark of the desert.

For once, you were early. Turns out a bunch of traveling hippies and outcasts aren't on a timed schedule, who knew?

Even though you were early, the dirt patch of a parking lot was packed, cars in various stages of deterioration lining the sides of the building, and people gathering outside to avoid the cramped interior. But you weren't here to socialize or drink and get high- you just wanted to see her, dance to the strum of her guitar, and let her voice consume and overtake you.

It was 40-ish minutes past midnight, meaning Ellie and her band were late, but that's not a surprise. She had a bad habit of keeping the people waiting, but she was a busy girl- hanging out backstage or at a hotel, a room full of girls for her to pick from, and no shortage of drugs and alcohol. But tonight, she went a little too overboard. Her band mates were practically carrying her across the motel parking lot to their van, trying to get her to sober up on the way to the venue with water and motivational speeches that mostly consisted of "get your fucking shit together".

The short 30 minute drive to the venue was barely long enough to get Ellie back in the right state of mind. She was slightly unsteady on her feet, and her speech was a little slurred, but she's used to preforming under these conditions.

You waited patiently of course, babying a strong cocktail mix since you didn't dare get drunk and risk not remembering every detail of the night- every detail of her.

When the crowd shifted their attention to the back entrance of the building, silent murmurs at first before a load cheer erupting was when you knew, she was here, and she looked like heaven- a black tank top that was torn near the neckline, a studded belt loosely securing a pair of baggy, black patchwork cargo pants.

The crowd parted a pathway for her as she made her way through the room with her bandmates following behind, a cigarette tucked between her lips as she'd occasionally stop to sign whatever was thrown at her- a piece of paper, cash, a pair of tits- which she'd always happily comply, but if she saw a girl she liked, she would lick her pointer finger and index, smearing part of her signature on their cleavage while the marker was still wet to subtly let you know that she wanted your company for the night- at least, that's the rumor you've heard.

You found yourself holding your breath- she was so close, a mere body or two keeping you at arm's length from her. You could smell the cigarette smoke, and see the details of her chipped black nail polish holding the marker between her fingers.

Ellie hands the notebook and marker back into the wave of hands, looking up while blowing out a cloud of smoke, and that's when she sees you. She was about to walk off, but she stopped for a second. You don't look like you belong- you were different, sweet, and innocent-looking compared to the rest of the audience. But she doesn't let her eyes linger long, she has a show to put on after all.

She turned, and walked towards the stage stairs, and centered herself behind the mic. She shifted her weight on her feet, and took one last drag of the cigarette before suffocating the embers on a ashtray near the edge of the stage.

"How's everyone doing tonight?" She barely could make out before the crowds hollering drowned out her voice. She laughed into the mic while plugging a cord into her guitar that was connected to a beefy looking amp.

Her ego was at its biggest right now- just her mere appearance could make a group of strangers act like dogs, and she fucking loved it.

She played a few cords on the guitar, ensuring the tune was where she wanted it before looking back up into the crowd, "c'mon, you can do better than that." And even though her mouth was covered by the mic, you could tell she was smirking.

The crowd cheered louder, fists clenched high above the sea of heads, and chanted her name over and over exactly how she wanted them to.

And for you? Well, you were also chanting her name, maybe not as loud, but you were too busy squeezing your way through to get to the front.

She needed to be able to see you.

And she did see you- you were front row, playfully singing and dancing along, your bright, twinkling eyes boring into every little thing she did- from the way she'd run her hand through the front of her hairline, ridding her face of the baby hairs and bangs, down to the way her fingers curled over the frets of her guitar. She made sure to look elsewhere into the crowd, interacting with everyone, but her eyes always found themselves back on you.

Ellie closed out the show with an encore, most of the crowd was overly intoxicated at this point, stumbling, and starting meaningless fights with whoever was closest- aka the usual time you'd leave, but you couldn't, at least, not when Ellie was walking towards you, her eyes set on you. You glanced to your right then your left- confused, and definitely was searching for an explanation as to why she was getting closer. Surely, it was someone else who caught her attention, but it was only you nearby.

You take a step back from the stage as the tips of her dirty converse near the edge. She bends down at the knees before sitting all together, dangling her legs over the edge. She doesn't say anything, and you didn't either, maybe from intimidation mixed with confusion as to why she chose to sit here out of all places.

She reaches her tattooed arm behind, shifting her weight to pull out a pack of cigarettes, and offering the carton to you, but you shyly decline. She smirked, a dimple deepening on the one side of her cheek, "So-" She said, her voice momentarily muffled by the cigarette between her lips, "-you don't look like you're from here, where'd you come from, baby?" She ignited the end with a metal lighter, holding a free hand up to cover the flame which only amplified the warm glow of the flame on her face.

You chuckled a nervous laugh, looking down at your fingers as she blew out a puff of smoke, "M' not. I'm from up north. " Your voice trembled, leaking with submission and uncertainty which only fascinated her more, but also she was frustrated- most girls wouldn't need a conversation to know what Ellie wanted from them, and you weren't looking at her.

She grabs your hand, and pulls you closer to the space between her knees. A sharp breath gets caught in your throat as she does this, your cheeks hot, and your gut feels like it's jumping being this close to her- enough to smell the fumes of her cologne mixed with ash. You watch her fingers come up and hover over your chest, her fingers gently dancing along the skin of your clavicle to examine the charm of your necklace, but really it was just a flirtation tactic to her.

"What's a girl like you doing in the desert in the middle of the night, huh?" She asked, dropping her voice down to an almost whisper- raspy, and thick with suggestion. You shake your head side to side, a nervous tick of yours when you felt uncomfortable, but being uncomfortable isn't always a bad thing.

"I uh-" you paused, mentally wavering if you should tell the truth since it does seem a little pathetic. "-I wanted to see you play."

Ellie's eyebrows raise, her bottom lip puckering into a frown with a slight nod. "Is that so?" She hummed, rolling the edges of the charm between her fingers. Ellie was certain she had seen you before. It wasn't a trick of the light or getting your face confused with some other hot chick- you were unmistakable. But she didn't want you to know that she found you out, not yet, not now.

Ellie learned in further, your knees almost buckling out from under you, feeling her breath against your lips. She played it off like she was getting a closer look at your necklace, extending the religious symbolic charm out so the chain tugged on your neck. "Do you believe?" She asked, still looking at the damn necklace, furrowing her brows like she was in a deep philosophical thought.

You swallowed dryly, wishing you still had your drink from easier, "N-not really-" you stuttered, "it was a gift from when I was younger."

Ellie chuckled, but it wasn't lighthearted or sweet- it was dark, methodical, and a tad bit sadistic.

She released the charm from her fingers, letting it hit your bare chest with a muted thud before looking up. Her eyes were a darker shade than you remembered them being- irises blown out and framed beautifully by a thick band of dark eyelashes.

Her hand reached out and gently grabbed you by the wrist before yanking you closer so your tummy was flush with the side of the stage, leaving only a few inches between your tits and the denim of her crotch.

You inhaled a sharp, breathy yelp as she did this, your hands not knowing what to do or where to divert your eyes- her hands on you, her face so close to yours that you could count the freckles on her cheeks, even the ones that are faint enough to miss- or maybe how her thighs were drifting apart, and you were in between them.

Her hand comes up, which causes you to squeeze your eyes shut, but the wrinkles around your eyes relax as you feel her hand on your face and her lips on yours. You moaned instantly at the contact, resting your hand on her thigh where it felt most comfortable. Ellie took this opportunity to slip her tongue inside, using the muscle to work against yours. Her hand snakes down your side, squeezing the soft flesh of your hip before pulling away, leaving you breathless, and hazy.

Her eyes were intense looking into yours, her lips wet and craving a deeper satisfaction.

She only said one thing, a simple sentence that would separate you from being just some regular fan,

"Come with me tonight, and I'll show you something worth believing."

So that's how your night shifted- how one decision to follow some band across the state had finally paid off because now you were here- a hotel room, alone with the band's most valuable member snorting lines of a white powdery substance off of a mirror topped end table.

Ellie held the rolled 20 between her fingers, putting the end of it to her nose while the index on her other closed the opposing nostril shut. She dragged the end of the cylinder across the smuggled surface, inhaling deeply until the white line disappeared behind it.

"Fuuck-" She sighed, throwing her head back, and swipes the bottom of her nose with her thumb,

"Here-" She held out the rolled 20 for you to take, but you lean away,

"I don't do that stuff."

She looks at you curiously, a furrow between her brows that suggests she found your refusal even more entertaining.

Ellie leaned forward and turned her body to face you on the edge of the dusty duvet, "What-" She scoffed, "'think you're too good for it?"

You shook your head violently, indicating a 'no', "No- no, that's not what I meant-"

Ellie laughed, causing you to stop mid-sentence, "I'm just fucking with you, doll. I should've known." She smiles, and you return the smile in relief that you didn't actually offend her.

Your eyes divert to the wallpapered walls- a faint pattern of stripes with cream-colored baseboards, a warm yellowed lamp on the bedside being the only source of light in the room to contrast the night outside.

You felt her hand creep up your thigh, tempting the skin below the hem of your dress before it disappeared underneath the fabric altogether. She leaned in, her other hand on your face to encourage you closer, whispering a "so soft" in a raspy breath before connecting your lips with hers.

It started slow- her lips overlapping yours like a soft current on a still morning before it turned into a ranging one during a windy cast. You moaned into her- soft and delicate mews between each detachment, and it fueled her.

Ellie's body overpowered yours, using her strength to her advantage. But it's not like she needed it- you were putty in her hands, fully committing yourself to her, letting her push you into your back, and her body hovering on top of yours.

You squirmed beneath her- each bump, and drag of her knee between your legs left you feeling more desperate.

"Ellie-" you broke the kiss in a breathless euphoria, looking up at her with a needy expression. Ellie knew that face well- it's not like she had all this experience and didn't know what to do with it, so- she got up, leaving you alone on the bed, and walked over to a black duffle bag decorated with pins of miscellaneous logos and bands.

She riffled through it, pulling a small clear plastic bag out before joining you back on the bed.

She opened the baggie, pulling something out no bigger than the size of a postage stamp, and tearing it into smaller halves before looking up,

"Do you trust me?" She asked, her green eyes piercing into yours, causing a wet sensation to spill from the heat between your legs. You swallowed, not really sure what you were agreeing to, but you nodded anyway, "Yes, Ellie... I trust you."

She placed the colorfully decorated paper on her tongue and held the sides of your face, kissing you and slipping her tongue inside, transferring whatever it was into your mouth before pulling away. "Swallow." She demanded, tilting your face up by your chin, and you did it without hesitation- straining the walls of your throat as the mystery stamp slid downwards.

She smirked, and swiped her thumb over your bottom lip, "good girl."

She followed it up by doing the same, placing the tab on her tongue and swallowing, but she made it seem so much more intentional like a ritual of some sorts.

Ellie leaned away from you in the bed to rest her back against the headboard and pillows, "C'mere" she said nonchalantly, patting her thighs.

With shaky knees, you did as you were told and crawled your way up her legs until you were straddling her waist.

Her hands come up to rest on your hips, her thumbs tracing circles through the flimsy fabric of your dress, "so obedient" she said lightly, almost under her breath to herself and not at you directly.

Her hands started to wander- first on your hips, then down to your thighs, gliding them up to the plush beneath your skirt. You felt her fingertip squeeze and caress, sending chills up your spine and a hot/cold sensation throughout your body.

Next, her lips were on yours, and her fingers were tightening the follicles on the back of your scalp as the kisses became more intense. Your back instinctively arches, and you reach a hand between your legs to soothe the ache, but she stops you with a firm grip on your wrist, "Gettin' impatient, huh?" She said in a cocky tone, smirking against your lips. You whimpered- nodding your head, and grabbed her hand, inching it closer to your core.

Ellie chucked at this- the kind of chuckle that was half way a scoff, and half way felt like an insult.

"Damn- you need me to fill you up that bad? 'thought you were one of them good girls."

She tisked her tongue against her teeth, but still let you guid her hand where you needed her.

The back of her knuckles grazed between the pillowy folds over your panties, going agonizingly slow before turning her hand over to fully palm your cunt.

You melt on top of her, resting your head against her shoulder, all the while dragging your hips against her hand.

She turns her head, her warm breath fanning against the helix of your ear, "You're so wet and I've barely touched you."

Her words echoed throughout your brain like her voice waves were sending signals to every part of your body. And her touch was magnified- each cell, fiber, and pore was experiencing a new sense of heightened, whether it be because of the drugs or not, you couldn't be sure.

"El-Ellie, please... need you."

Your words rang a siren song to Ellie's ears, creating a sticky pool between her own legs. She muttered a guttural "fuck" before she grabs you by the sides of your thighs, flipping you over so she was on top of you.

She was already yanking down your underwear, and tossing them to the side before you could comprehend what was happening. You felt her fingers stinging to the flesh of your thighs, prying them apart like she couldn't wait to see you, to taste you.

You sucked in a sharp breath as her tongue lightly traced a line down your folds before her lips met your clit where she pulsated the bud between her lips, letting out a moan as she made contact, "fuuck-" She curses before flicking her tongue over your bundle of nerves, igniting a colorful array of shapes behind your tightly closed eyes.

She was messy but precise- using her tongue along with the motion of her head to send you that much further. Your fingers tangled in her hair, tugging harder the closer you got which was the perfect time in Ellie's eyes to add a finger.

She slowly pushed her middle finger inside, stopping halfway at her knuckle to let you adjust before slamming it all the way till her knuckles were snug against your puffy lips.

You wriggled beneath her, reaching out to push her away with a palm to her shoulder, but that only makes her add a second finger.

You cry out loudly through heavy breaths, the veins on her forearm coming to the surface of her skin from how much force she was using, and her mouth putting in just as much work.

You were climbing higher and higher, the peripheral of your vision going white-

"Ellie... I'm- I'm gonna-" You don't have much time to warn her before your body starts to spaz, starting at your hips and up into your chest like volts of electricity through a highly active current.

Your knees close around her head, your back arching high off the mattress, and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. She slows her pace as you come down before pulling her fingers out and lifting her head.

With your eyes closed, and an arm draped over your face, you feel her pat the inside of your thigh before her weight leaves the bed.

She comes back a couple of minutes later, only opening your eyes when you feel her weight return to the mattress.

Your eyes go wide as you take notice of the new attachment- a black, strappy harness with buckles near her hips, and a crude shaped silicone cock bulging at her crotch.

She lowers herself over you, her hands on each side of your head before she leans down to kiss you, slipping her tongue inside. She pulled back, momentarily admiring the way you looked just from something as simple as oral and some fingering- glossy eyes, puffy lips smeared with her spit, and if she looked down- how your inner thighs glistened.

Her lips trial from yours, staring at your neck, then your chest, and finally your tits which Ellie had absolutely no problem with pulling the straps down to expose them, leaving the fabric bunched around your stomach. In her eyes, everything she wanted- no, needed was accessible this way.

Ellie looks up, placing a delicate kiss on the skin of your lower stomach, "Got one more fr' me, pretty girl?" She asked softly, tenderly, but it still managed to come off more intimidating than a question should sound.

You nodded shyly, a small whine emitting from the back of your throat, looking down at her with your breasts out for her viewing, grabbing pleasure, and your legs spread wide, ready to take her.

She lifted her upper half up, slim fingers holding the base of her cock, and lined the artificial tip with your entrance. She glided the tip up your folds, coating it with your slick, and let out a sultry exhale since she could practically see your walls clenching around nothing in preparation for her.

She teased you for a bit- only giving you a couple of inches before backing away and repeating, each time causing you to whine harder and harder out of frustration. Sure, Ellie was having her fun watching you squirm, grab for her, and fuck- how your hole gapped each time she pulled out, a clear, viscous fluid leaking from it, but she was growing just as impatient- feeling your legs wrap around her waist, pulling her closer, pleading variations of her name and "please" and who is she to deny you when you ask so nicely?

She thrusts her hips forward until her crotch was flesh with your ass, your legs in the air, and her hands pushing on the back of your thighs.

"Is this what you wanted, huh?" She gritted, pulling her hips back only to snap them forward again.

You cried out loudly, curling your fingers around the bedsheets until the blood stopped circulating, turning the skin there a lighter shade than the rest of you.

She pushed harder on the back of your thighs- your knees pressed up against your chest, and using what you can imagine is all of her strength to thrust into you. She was reaching the deepest part of your cervix- grunting and moaning on Ellie's end while you mewled high-pitched noises mixed with the wet slapping of her cock repeatedly slamming into you.

Ellie's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly upward, and her lips parted as insufficient, short breaths seep from them. Her hips started to falter from the endless abuse her clit was suffering behind the base of her strap, her boxers now a sticky, cold mess that stuck to her cunt and thighs.

She collapses on top of you, snugging herself between your legs to connect her lips to yours in a desperate effort, overpowering all your senses with her. She continues to fill you over and over again, both of you moaning in between breathless lips.

You wrapped her arms around her as her head hung low into your neck, digging your nails into the skin of her shoulder blades.

"El... mmhm- I'm gonna-" You babbled before biting your lip to silence the cry that was bubbling in the back of your throat, and Ellie wasn't far behind.

The pistoning motions of her hips turned into a grinding one- keeping a steady pace and rolling her hips forward, "M-me too- fuck... stay with me, yeah?" She said in between soft pants, the warmth of her breath brushing against your lips as her hand came up to gently but firmly wrap around your neck.

Ellie's head goes fuzzy as you looked up at her with your half-hooded gaze and your perfectly rosette lips that are just begging to be wrapped around something, so- she released the hold she had on your neck and brought her two fingers that were previously inside of you to your mouth.

She didn't even have to say anything for you to part your lips wider, slipping her fingers inside and rolling them over your tongue.

You moan, closing your lips around her as her fingers reach further back, causing tears to fall from the corner of your eyes.

"That's it-" She coaxed, her eyes focused on the split trailing down your chin,"-such a good girl."

She motioned her fingers in and out in a vulgar manner, bitting her bottom lip before pulling her fingers out all together to fist the bed sheets beside her.

"Fuckfuckfuck-oh my god-" She grunted incoherently, dropping her head to space between your neck and shoulder. Her forehead glistened with proof of her efforts as she rushed the pace to ease the itch between her legs.

You tightened your legs around her waist, pretty little noises falling on Ellie's ears as you both peak.

She rolls her hips- making it slow and deep until your voice grows tired and quiet before pushing her upper half away from you.

You wince at her absence, feeling your walls retract back to its original shape like the sand inside of an hourglass.

She plopped down beside you with an exaggerated sigh of exhaustion, pulling up the bottom of her tank top to wipe the slick/sweat mixture from her chin and nose, giving you a few seconds to admire her hardened stomach and prominent 'v' which lead your eyes down to the fake dick still standing high between her thighs.

She catches you looking, the corner of her lips tugging into a smirk as she lets out a low chuckle.

You meet her eyes, realizing you have been caught, which causes you to look away quickly, but her hand grabs yours.

"Gettin' shy on me now after all that?" She said, pulling at your hand to silently instruct you to get on top of her, so you did.

Her hands rub up and down your thighs, and her bottom lip snug between her teeth. She eyes your body, starting from your tits down to her cock that is resting against your lower stomach.

"Wanna do me a favor?" She asked, palming the fat of your thigh that spilled over the heels of your feet. You hummed at her- a sweet, genuine hum that was full of eagerness to assist her, which almost made Ellie feel bad for what she was about to say- key word almost.

"Put that pretty little mouth of yours to use and clean me up."

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wheresarizona · 3 months ago

Text

Learning to Live Part 34

summary: It’s time to celebrate your nuptials with your friends and family, where they’ll witness some of your firsts as husband and wife—first dinner, first dance. Hopefully, they won’t notice your first time sneaking away to fool around.

rating: E (18+!! This is very horny. No y/n, alternating POV, explicit smut, age gap (about ten years), two extremely horny newlyweds, Husband Javier Peña, sneaking around, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, vaginal fingering, car sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, wedding ring kink, getting cockblocked (multiple times), singing “Lay All Your Love On Me” by ABBA as foreplay, oral sex mention (f receiving), accidental voyeurism | overheard spit kink, overheard degradation, overheard mention of choking (spoiler - it’s Robyn and Seb fucking) | feelings, first dance, second dance, father-daughter dance, Javier being so in love, body insecurity, anxiety, Javier being cute with kids, Chucho wanting to be an abuelo so bad, Javier going into protector mode (with a gun), special appearances by Daphne and Velma)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 24k

a/n: I apologize for how long this took, but I’m happy to finally share it with you! There’s a lot of music referenced in this chapter, and instead of listing out each song, I’ve made a playlist of ALL the music mentioned in the wedding chapters. Huge shoutouts to @devineconjuring and @kilamonster for betaing! You are lifesavers!!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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It was strange.

The man you married was a bit of a local celebrity, known by everyone in Laredo for the good and bad things he’d done in his past. With the town’s obsession with him came their intrusive interest in his personal life, which led to fascination when the chronic bachelor began dating you. It was a regular occurrence to be gawked at or to hear hushed whispers and constantly find yourselves as the subject of town gossip. Yet, all of that attention never bothered you—it was annoying, for sure, but it never made you nervous being in the spotlight as the other half of Laredo’s most talked-about couple. Frankly, you ignored it all and went on living your best life with the man you loved.

The thing you found strange was, that attention out in public from strangers? Not a problem. But when you were the center of attention amongst your friends and family on the happiest day of your life? Apparently, it was anxiety-inducing.

Why? If you had to guess, it was probably them seeing you so vulnerable—you weren’t masking what you were feeling; those at the ceremony watched you cry and heard you bare your soul to the love of your life. Now, everyone here was going to witness the first hours of your marriage: your first meal as husband and wife, your first dance, the two of you being so sickeningly in love that at some point tonight, your best friend Robyn will fake gag and call you both disgusting even though she was a hypocrite who had it just as bad for her boyfriend.

You weren’t nervous when you first got to Chucho’s to fix your makeup—the nerves hit when you saw the almost ninety people under the tent, and you thought about all the eyes that’d be on the two of you basking in your newlywed bliss.

And Javi knew you so well, he clocked your anxiety practically right out of the gate—he didn’t miss a beat giving you the reassurance you needed that you looked fine, he didn’t complain when you busied yourself with fussing over him to get your mind off the crowd, and he distracted you with his sweet singing and loving words. You had to admit, he was knocking this whole husband thing out of the park.

He had calmed you down, and knowing he would be with you every step of the way made it easier to walk to your table and made the attention much more bearable.

The clapping continued with the occasional whoop and holler, your entrance music still playing in the background, and the excitement was palpable. When it hit you that this tent full of people supported your relationship and were genuinely happy about your marriage, it choked you up, and it took everything in you to hold back your tears.

These were your real family and friends.

Javi’s lips were still at your ear after offering you an escape if you needed it, and you kissed his cheek, resting your hand on his bicep—emotion had your words coming out thick when you said for only him to hear, “I love you too, and thank you, babe. I’m so fucking happy we’re married; you’re literally the best husband in the entire universe.”

He was smiling when he straightened to meet your gaze, his large hands rubbing along your bare arms. “I’m really fucking happy we’re married, too. This is the greatest day of my life, and I’m so lucky ‘cause you’re the best wife in the entire goddamn universe.”

His response made you grin, circling your arms behind his neck, but he caught you off guard when you went in for a kiss—he pulled you into him, his arm around your torso like a band of steel, and as your lips met, he turned you, dipping you back while you kissed, his mouth swallowing your surprised sound.

There was an uptick in noise the first time you locked lips, but this time? It was downright thunderous with the combination of applause, whistling, and cheers; so many people were taking pictures that you’d think strobe lights were turned on from all of the bright flashes of light.

You held onto him for dear life as your mouths melded together, questioning in your head if his other hand on your ass was actually for support or if he was just copping a feel; it didn’t matter, though, because as quickly as he tipped you back, he was raising you, your lips separating for only a second to have you standing in front of him again and then he kiss kissed you.

It was one of those kisses that made your toes curl and your head go dizzy. Everything around you faded away until all that remained was you and Javi—nothing else existed except him. As he held you close, hugging you to his body, your lips touching and tongues intertwined, you ceased being two separate people and became one—one heart, one soul, one future. There was no you and him; it was you both together from this day until the end of time.

Unfortunately, the kiss had to come to an end, and you chased his lips when he broke away from you—Javier chuckled, the sound warm to your ears, and you smiled when he pecked the tip of your nose, then nuzzled it with his own, those baseball mitts he called hands holding your upper arms.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

You could feel the air move as he pulled back.

"You ready to sit down?"

Your eyes blinked open to find his tender gaze on you with a sweet smile beneath his perfect mustache.

“That’s probably a good idea; you have me feeling a little wobbly after that kiss.” You winked.

He smiled, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “Of course, mi amor.” He moved around you to pull out your seat, and you sat down, Javi pushing you in. He took the chair beside yours, and the moment he was seated, he made you giggle as he scooted, chair and all, closer to you until he was right against your side, his arm going over your shoulders—you were each drawn to the other, leaning into him as he leaned into you, looking at one another with smiles, sitting in your little bubble.

The sound had died down, and the music had ended. Diego spoke through the microphone, reading from a piece of paper, “Los novios quieren agradecer a todos los presentes por compartir este día tan especial con ellos y quieren agradecer especialmente al padre de Javier, Chucho, y a sus tías, María, Rebeca, y Lupita por toda su ayuda para organizar esta increíble fiesta. (The bride and groom would like to thank everyone present for sharing this special day with them, and especially want to thank Javier’s father, Chucho, and his aunts María, Rebeca, and Lupita for all their help organizing this incredible party). ¡Démosles un aplauso (Let’s give them a round of applause)!”

Everyone, including the two of you, clapped.

When you went to dinner with Chucho on Javi’s birthday and told him your wedding plans, your father-in-law insisted on paying for everything, which you both declined right away. This led to a bit of a heated argument in Spanish between your husband and his dad, where you discovered that in their culture, traditionally, the groom’s family paid for the wedding since he was the one to propose.

The only way Javi could placate his dad and later his tías, who were also gung-ho about paying for everything, was to let them all plan and put the event together on your dime—which was a great idea, given how perfectly it turned out.

“Y ahora (And now),” Diego continued, “es el momento de comer—for the English speakers in the house, that means it’s time to eat!”

The food was set up buffet style on the opposite side of the room, and people started getting up. With everything going on, your only meal all day had been breakfast that morning with your father-in-law. The rest of the time, you snacked and sampled the dishes being served; now that you were thinking about it, you realized you were hungry, your stomach growling in confirmation.

When you tried to push back your chair, Javi stopped you, and you looked at him confused. “Don’t get up,” he said. “I’ll get you food, mi amor.”

“I’m capable of getting my own food.”

“I want to get you food.”

An exasperated breath left you. “Fine. Thank you.” At your acquiesce, he smiled and quickly kissed you before getting up and heading across the room.

It was odd sitting at the table alone, and you took a second to see who all was here. Chucho and his sisters were the first to fill their plates because they were guests of honor. Almost all of Javi’s cousins were here, and a majority of the men were staying at their tables with their kids while their wives went to get food, including Danny, who had his toddler daughter, Sofia, in his lap and his four-year-old son in the chair beside him, their six-months pregnant mother standing in line.

The Murphys were over there, Connie carrying Nate on her hip and strategically holding a plate; Stevie stood between her and Steve, the father getting food for himself and his son, and Olivia was ahead of them all serving herself. Sebastián was taking a much-deserved break from recording, standing in line behind Robyn with his arms wrapped around her middle and whispering something in her ear that had her flushing and giggling.

You spotted your other friends from work, Gil and Luis, the latter coming with his wife Cat and their four kids, all under twelve. Javi’s old friends from high school, Anna, Benito, and Ken, were here with their families—Anna did all of the baked desserts. There was the family that ran El Mercadito, all five members present, and Sheriff Arturo with his wife. His and Javi’s assistant, Joy, was here, too, and she brought her roommate, a lovely girl named Jamie who drove a Subaru—something rare in Texas—and was wearing a stylish pantsuit with a shirt that complemented the color of Joy’s dress; they were such cute best friends.

People were patting Javi on his back and congratulating him, seeing his bright grin each time he looked back at you as he made his way to the opposite side of the room. You watched him beelining toward his tías and father, who were at the end of the buffet with their plates full of food, to speak to his tía María for just a moment; whatever she said made him chuckle and kiss her on the cheek. Then he walked to the back of the line, politely refusing anyone who told him to cut in front of them. He ended up between one of his tíos and Mrs. Pauletta Moore, who you first met at the Farmer’s Market when you started dating; every subsequent time you went to the market, you’d stop by her stall to chat because she was fun to talk to and you found it amusing that Javi got flustered when she inevitably brought up how handsome he was—you never made him suffer long, though. You always got him out of there after a minute.

What she was saying right now made him blush and glance over at you from across the room every few seconds with a polite smile, his big brown eyes screaming, ‘Help Me.’

His gaze was locked on yours, his mouth moving as he spoke to the older woman.You started to get up to save him, but he slightly shook his head at you, and you frowned, sitting in your seat again.

Things got better once it was his turn to get dinner. Minutes later, he returned to your table with two plates and immediately left to grab a couple of beers for you both. When he was finally back for good, he sat down and once again scooted himself as close to you as possible, his arm going over your shoulders again.

When it came to choosing the food for tonight, you and Javi only had two requests: you wanted there to be little BLT finger sandwiches, made how you liked them—swap out the mayo for garlic aioli, use arugula instead of lettuce, and add avocado—since the tomato for a BLT is how you met; the second request was that they used his mother’s recipes, which his tías happily agreed to.

The plate in front of you was loaded with a little of everything: a tiny BLT, three street tacos made with fresh, homemade tortillas, each filled with a different meat—Al Pastor, barbacoa, and carne asada—roasted pig, chiles rellenos, enchiladas mole, elote, a mini queso Oaxaca quesadilla, spicy rice, beans, a few extra tortillas, and some homemade salsas in little plastic cups.

“Thank you,” you told him, pecking him on the cheek.

His head turned to press his lips to yours, and he smiled into the kiss. “You’re welcome—I love you, my wife.”

You matched his expression. “I love you, too, my amazing husband. God, I love calling you that.” Your mouth left his, and you looked at him, his eyes on yours. “Can you believe we’re married?”

His free hand reached to grab your left, lifting it to kiss your rings. “I keep looking at my ring to make sure it really happened.” A happy sigh left him, and the expression on his face showed how much he loved you, the intensity of it making you go so soft there was a chance you’d melt like ice cream in the hot sun. “You’re my wife,” he said. “I have a wife. I’m your husband. And, shit, last week was our first shot at making a baby. I’m already on cloud nine, but imagine if we were successful.” He let go of your hand to put his palm on your stomach, and your heart squeezed at how excited he was about being married and potentially having a child—you really hit the husband jackpot. Javi kept speaking, “We could have a baby by the end of the year. Even if it doesn’t happen, this has been the best year of my entire fucking life because you married me.”

“Oh, Javi.” Your upper body twisted in his direction as your hands gently held his face, pulling him in to crush your lips to his, wanting him to feel your happiness, your love, and your hope that he was right about the addition of a tiny Peña by the end of the year. You agreed that even if a baby wasn’t in the cards for 1999, this had also been the best year of your entire fucking life because he married you.

When you broke the kiss, Javi’s cheeks were tinted pink, and he was smiling so big, his dimple was showing. After exchanging ‘I love yous’ once more, you both dug into your plates.

As expected, the food was incredible, and there was no way you’d be able to finish the plate, but you tried a little of everything, loving it all.

A comfortable silence fell between you two as you ate, and once the hunger in your belly subsided, you wiped your mouth with your napkin and asked, “What was Mrs. Moore saying that was making you uncomfy?”

He groaned around a bite, and as soon as he swallowed, he avoided looking at you, using his own napkin to clean his mouth. He answered, “She went on and on and on about how fantastic I looked and told me that if she were your age, she also would’ve snatched me up and married me as quickly as you did after the engagement.”

You giggled. “I’m sorry. I know you hate when she talks about how handsome you are.”

He sighed. “It’s fine, and I corrected her that I was the impatient one who wanted to get married so quickly.” He looked over at you and smiled. “She also congratulated us and said we’re a great match and a wonderful couple. She’s loved seeing our relationship grow and can’t wait for us to have kids, which she says will happen sooner rather than later.”

“‘Cause you’re such a hunk, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you?” You gently knocked your shoulder against his.

“With how you can’t keep your hands off of me? Apparently, I’m the biggest hunk in the entire fucking world.”

“Wow, your ego has been fed way too much today.”

He laughed and kissed your cheek. You felt his hot breath as he whispered in your ear, “Nothing to do with my ego, Cielito. I’m stating the truth; you can’t keep your hands off me, and you know what? I can’t keep my hands off you—when she said we’d have kids sooner rather than later, I agreed because it is my fucking mission to get you pregnant.”

Something about his determination had arousal igniting in your gut.

“Why do I find that so sexy?”

He kissed the sensitive spot behind your ear, and you trembled. “Because you married a hunk who can’t keep his hands off you.”

You giggled, turning your head to kiss him. “I married a ridiculous man,” you said into his lips, your eyes closing.

His response was muffled. “A ridiculous man who loves you.” His lips left yours, and the tip of his nose nuzzled yours. “Mi amor?” he rasped.

“Yes, husband?”

His fingers slid along your thigh. “After the dances,” he said, “when they open the dance floor, sneak away with me to the laundry room—” It was at the end of the same hall the guest bedroom was down and secluded. “—I need you so fucking bad.”

“After the dances, I have to change dresses...”

“That’s not a no… Can I join you? Your clothes will already be off, and I can put you up on the bathroom counter or against it and slide right in. Imagine getting filled with your husband’s cock—the cock that belongs to you—and how it will stretch your perfect pussy—my wife’s pussy. We’d be quick; I’d fuck you hard and fast. I’ll probably have to cover your mouth to keep you quiet, and all of these people will have no fucking clue that while they’re drinking and dancing, my wife’s soaking my dick in her come, and I’m stuffing her full of me.”

The proposition made you squirm in your seat and had your skin heating.

Now that you were at the party, your nerves had settled, and his words had gotten to you—you did want him inside you, and god, to feel him stretch you open; the fingering in the truck was good, but nothing compared to how Javi fucked you, and the thought of doing it with so many people on the property had your inner exhibitionist frothing at the mouth.

“Sold.”

It was truly adorable how he giddily chuckled, then smothered the sound by kissing you, his hand leaving your thigh to press to your cheek. He’d been eating an Al Pastor taco before you interrupted him, the sweetness of pineapple and spiciness of chiles lingering on his tongue as he licked into your mouth, giving you another one of those toe-curling kisses that made your brain stop working—either you were just insanely horny for your husband and you couldn’t wait to be alone in a room with him, or some baser, primal instinct was telling you to go right that second to make a baby.

There were wolf-whistles again, and you couldn’t make out what Olivia asked, but you sure heard her father’s answer. “If you must know,” Steve said, “yes, I do kiss your mother like that, but not in front of you or your brothers—those kinds of kisses are between two adults who love each other and should only happen in private.” The girl made another comment, and Steve replied, “Well, your tio loves your new tia very, very much, and getting married is one of the happiest days of someone’s life—they’re just so happy, and in love, they keep forgetting there’s an audience.”

Your mouths separated, Javi pressing his forehead to yours as he sighed. He quietly said to you, “I’m aware there’s an audience, and I don’t give a fuck because we’re not doing anything inappropriate—it’s just kissing for Christ’s sake.”

You pushed your fingers into the hair at the back of his head. “He’s being an overprotective dad. When we have kids, you’re definitely going to be overprotective, but not when it comes to affection because it’s normal for us to be all lovey-dovey—our babies will be used to their parents being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, they will.”

His hair is soft to the touch, and you lovingly scratch your nails against his scalp. “Something that I love is that your parents shaped your view of what a healthy, loving marriage should be like, and we’re gonna do the same for our children, so when they’re all grown up, they’ll hopefully have something like us and their abuelos (grandparents).”

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was frowning when he spoke. “I don’t want them to grow up… I want them to be my babies forever.”

“Oh, babe.” You pecked his lips. “They’ll always be your babies, and this is a reminder that when we finally have one, we need to savor every moment because they're gonna grow so quickly, and I know you’ll hate that.”

Seconds passed, and he didn’t speak, which meant he was in his head, thinking deeply about something. You pulled back to look at his face, his eyes closed, his eyebrows cinched together, and you stroked your fingers along his cheek.

“Where’d you go?” you softly asked him.

He blinked open his eyes. “Nowhere,” he answered, turning his head to kiss your palm.

“Are you okay?”

He gave you a little smile. “I’m fucking amazing.”

“Good.”

“¡Bien, todos (Okay, everyone),” Diego announced, “démosle la bienvenida a la pista de baile los novios para su primer baile (Let’s welcome the bride and groom to the dance floor for their first dance)!”

Applause sounded, and Javi got up from the table first, offering a hand that you took to rise, and he led you out onto the dance floor. The intro for “I’ve Been Waiting for You” by ABBA began, the soft hum of a synthesizer sounding as Agnetha Fältskog sang with feeling about how she never thought she’d love again, but the right person has come along now and brought back the feeling.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what Javi was thinking with how intensely he looked upon you; his loving gaze burned as it met yours, his close-lipped smile beneath his perfectly trimmed mustache making the edges of his eyes crinkle, and there was not a single doubt that it was you on his mind, consuming all of his thoughts. Before he pulled you close by your hand in his, he took you in, the pink of his tongue wetting his bottom lip as his gaze trailed up your body appreciatively. When his chocolate-colored eyes locked onto yours, his love for you was evident, but so was his desire—he clearly wanted you, and it made heat creep up your neck.

His free hand found its home on your waist, or more accurately, the top of your ass where it met your waist, while your own held onto the back of one of his broad shoulders, and you danced as you had so many times before in the kitchen as you cooked together; the familiarity of the steps, Javi guiding you as you swayed to the music, eyes on each other and only each other, the rest of the world disappearing.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said for just your ears.

All you could see was the truth on his face, and it made you smile. You replied just as softly, “Thank you. You’re so fucking handsome—ten out of ten, would bang.” You winked, and he chuckled, the two of you slowly moving to the song.

“You know how much I love you in that dress, but I can’t wait to get you out of it.”

“A few more songs, and you’ll get to.”

He grinned, his dimple appearing. “I really fucking love you.”

“I really fucking love you, too.”

The song’s chorus played:

“You thrill me, you delight me You please me, you excite me You're something I'd been pleading for I love you, I adore you I lay my life before you I'll have you want me more and more And finally, it seems my lonely days are through I've been waiting for you.”

He pulled you close enough to touch his forehead to yours gently, his hand holding your smaller one against his chest over his heart. He was gazing lovingly into your eyes, softly smiling.

“I gotta say, this is a good song choice,” he told you.

When the discussion about music for today came up, immediately, this was the song that came to mind for your first dance—it was about thinking love would never happen, then the surprise at finding it, and the overwhelming feelings that come with finally having it after longing for so long; the immense adoration, and deep commitment, it being so unexpected that it felt like destiny, ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ It captured the essence of your relationship with Javi perfectly, and it made you happy that after playing it for him, he agreed—he’d never heard it before and thought, by the end, it fit well, too.

He also sought your approval for his song choice that you walked down the aisle to, except his pitch was having you listen to all of side one of his Fleetwood Mac Rumours record that “Songbird” was the last track on… In bed… While making out through the first five songs leading up to it. Apparently, in college, he’d invite girls to his dorm room to ‘listen to a record with him’—not always Fleetwood Mac—and they’d fool around. Another discovery you made was that side two of Rumours was the one he fucked to since it was the longer of the two sides, running just shy of twenty minutes. Yes, your husband had a system where he dedicated the first side of a record to foreplay, then the second for the main event.

“Right?” you responded to his comment. “The devotion and being all in—it’s so us.”

The song continued, and Javi moved his head beside yours to quietly sing along to a few verses in your ear when the chorus played again:

“You're something I'd been pleading for I love you, I adore you I lay my life before you I'll have you want me more and more.”

It had you sucking in a breath, your eyes rounding because you were under the impression the one and only time he listened to this track was when you introduced him to it.

You leaned back to see his face. “Wait, how do you know the lyrics?” you asked.

His eyebrow raised, giving you a look like it was obvious. “Cielito, you chose this for our first dance,” he said. “Of course, I listened to it a handful of times after you showed me it-—it’s a pretty song and perfect.”

Tears were starting to blur your vision at how sweet that was.

“You love ABBA.”

He huffed in amusement. “My wife loves ABBA, and if she loves them, then I love them, too.”

“Uh-huh, right—we’re married, babe. You don’t have to keep pretending you’re too cool to love them.”

He sighed. “Their shit is just so catchy.”

His admission had you smiling. “Finally, you admit it. God, I really fucking love you.”

He gave you another dimpled smile. “I really fucking love you, too.” He moved to have your temples touching as you swayed. “I wanna tell you something.”

With the music so loud and the two of you staying in the middle of the dance floor, you doubted anyone would be able to hear your hushed conversation. He was still slowly leading you around; talking and dancing was something you were both used to.

“Okay.”

“When I finally came home to Laredo for good, it’d fucking get to me seeing all the pictures of how happy my parents were or listening to my dad talk so fondly about my mom. Hearing and seeing how much they loved each other killed me because I’d never have anything like what they had. Then you came along and, Jesus Christ, am I so fucking thankful you came along—” The relief was evident in his voice. “—because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’ve given me the life I always dreamed about, and more. So, you are something I’d been pleading for; I love you, I adore you, and you know I lay my life before you—it’s yours, it’ll always be yours, and I’m gonna do my damndest to make you want me more.” You could hear his smile. “I’ll have to up the hunkiness.”

You laughed, continuing to dance with him. “I don’t think you can get any hunkier.”

“I think I can.” His cheek touched yours to whisper in your ear, feeling the hot breath of his words, “Like how after the dances, I’m dragging your ass to the bedroom, getting you naked, and I wanna bury my face in your pussy.” You gasped. “I know you want me to eat it, and I’m fucking dying to taste my wife. I’ll get you off with my mouth and the fingers you love. Then I’m pressing you back against the wall—I know I said bathroom counter earlier, but I need to kiss you—so, your back is getting pressed against the wall, and you're gonna taste yourself on my tongue while I fuck you hard and fast. I’ll keep you quiet so nobody knows you’re getting your husband’s good dick, and when I come inside you, you’re gonna keep it all in for the rest of the night because you know if you’re my good girl, I’m gonna give you anything you want when we get home.”

“Javier,” you breathed. He had your skin feeling hot and your heartbeat thudding between your legs, so unbelievably turned on by what he said. You had to clear your throat and say, “Sir, the way you’re making my pussy throb—I am so upset that I can’t drag your ass to the bedroom right this second to have my way with you.”

“Yeah?” He kissed your cheek. “I’ll make you feel good the first chance I get, and fuck, I can’t wait to get you home so that I can take my time. Quiero hacerte el amor (I want to make love to you). Quiero dártelo despacito y hacer temblar tus piernas (I want to give it to you slowly and make your legs shake). Quiero oírte gritar mi nombre decirme lo bien que te estoy chingado (I want to hear you scream my name and tell me how good I’m fucking you).”

“Okay, okay, okay, you are the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk, and I’m gonna need you to tone it down because I am extremely horny and so close to saying fuck it and running away with you while everyone watches.”

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. “I’m sorry for getting you worked up, mi amor.”

“That’s a dirty fucking lie, and you know it.”

With your bodies pressed together, you felt the rumble of his chuckle as the song came to an end. The two of you slowed to a stop naturally, and Javi straightened in front of you, looking at you once more; he was just as affected by the things he said if his darkened eyes and the pretty pink flush painted across his cheeks were anything to go by—and maybe it was his sultry words, or his sweet confession, or simply that his plush mouth looked so kissable, whatever it was had you gripping the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, and tugging him to you to smash your lips against his, kissing him. His arms wrapped around you, one hand anchored at the back of your head, the other squeezing your ass, your mouths passionately fused together, turning your body to putty and your brain to mush as you melted into him.

During his vows, Javi said his life didn’t begin until the moment he met you, and you understood exactly what he meant—what felt like so long ago, yet was only mere months, he entered your sphere, and suddenly, you felt alive; he made you feel alive. He was the sun shining after a gloomy, rainy day. He was the spring blooms after a frigid, snowy winter. He brought life to your world, love, and made everything better, and now he promised you his forever, sealing that commitment with the gold band on your finger.

He was yours, completely, always yours, and you were his.

Honestly, it was a miracle you heard a single thing Diego was announcing over the speakers. “La siguiente canción es una petición especial del novio (This next song is a special request from the groom). Mrs. Peña, Javi quiere dejarte saber que él siempre será tu pez (Mrs. Peña, Javi wants you to know that he will always be your fish).”

That had you abruptly ending the kiss, Javi’s mouth chasing yours. You pressed a hand to the center of his chest to hold him back.

“What song?” you asked him. “What does it mean that you’ll always be my fish…?”

His eyes opened to look at her, and he smiled, engulfing her hand on him with his larger one to hold over where she had to feel the thud of his heartbeat, his other resting just below her waistline on her ass, loving how soft her dress was under his fingers. He didn’t get a chance to answer because Diego started the song, and he knew she recognized it immediately from the familiar piano and twang of an acoustic guitar filling the air, followed by bongos and a man singing the opening line:

“Tengo un corazón…”

She started laughing, and warmth spread through him at how delighted she was.

“Burbujas de Amor” by Juan Luis Guerra was one of their favorite songs that played on the Spanish radio station they liked to listen to as they cooked. It had a good danceable beat while also being a romantic ballad, and the lyrics were… Interesting. The first time his wife heard it was early on in their relationship while they were making lunch together; she couldn’t believe what was being sung to the point she kept double-checking with him that what she was translating in her head was correct.

“Wait, did he just say he wants to be a fish so he can touch her fish tank with his nose…?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t understand the next line.”

“Y hacer burbujas de amor por dondequiera—and make love bubbles everywhere.”

“And then he really sings that he wants to stay up all night, soaked in her?”

“Yeah, and it makes sense to me ‘cause I wanna stay up all night soaked in you.”

She grinned. “You want to be the fish to my fish tank.”

“Quiero ser tu pez, quiero ser tu novio, quiero ser tu todo (I want to be your fish, I want to be your boyfriend, I want to be your everything). Need me to translate?”

“Nope, I understood you perfectly.”

The ABBA song was their choice for the first dance, but when they were picking the music, she joked about how funny it’d be if they used “Burbujas de Amor.” It amused her so much that he thought it’d be fun to surprise her with it as their second dance song.

“I can’t believe you requested this,” she said, clearly amused.

“We love it—” He shrugged. “—and I wanted to dance with you to it.” He gave her hand a quick kiss before letting it go to do this thing she found sexy, where he kept his attention on her while undoing the buttons on his suit jacket one-handed. He continued speaking as it came undone, “Dance with me—really dance with me.”

Javier loved the intimacy of slow dancing with her—the two of them close together in their own little world, swaying to the music and having an easy conversation; it was one of his favorite things to do. But there was nothing like giving in to the rhythm of some great music with someone you had a deep connection with, someone who loved you just as intensely as you loved them and shared in the intimate knowledge of how your bodies moved together.

It was incredible.

Their connection made everything exhilarating, and it was the same with sex. Out of the many partners he’d had in the bedroom and out on the dance floor, nothing compared to doing either with his wife—she was hands down the best he’d ever had in bed or dancing.

And to be completely honest, she wasn’t as good of a dancer as him—she was much better now than at the start of their relationship, and his toes were thankful for that; none of it mattered, though, because her confidence and willingness to even try, along with how fun she was, made up for her lack of skill. Plus, they had such great chemistry she did an excellent job of following his lead, which was the only time she let him be in control 100% of the time, every time.

“Okay,” she replied, stepping into him and wrapping her arm around his neck. She held up her other hand that Javier happily took firmly into his much bigger one, holding her close, his knee slotting between both of hers and a second later, he was moving them to the beat, literally moving her where he wanted by her hand in his—backward, forward, a turn here, a turn there, his wife relaxed and dancing in sync with him, their hips shaking a bit with each step.

Though they usually danced like this to cumbia music, he thought it was the best choice for this situation since he’d do all the work while she followed, because he knew, even if she was hiding it, that she worried about fucking up in front of everyone. Like this, he had complete control of them—how fast they went, where they were going; he was so in tune with her, so familiar with how she moved, they were dancing so seamlessly and effortlessly like it was a choreographed number they’d rehearsed a hundred times before.

He loved her giggles when he twirled them around, and he couldn’t stop smiling at how good it felt to move them to the music with hardly any thought or care aside from keeping them stepping to the rhythm; they were just having fun, enjoying each other and the vibrant energy of their love and happiness.

They were between choruses, the guitar, piano, and bongos still playing to keep the beat, while a trumpet had a solo.

“Javi?” she said.

“Yes, Cielito?”

He spun them in a complete circle and continued on another lap around the dance floor.

Her face was beside his, and she sang dramatically along with Juan Luis Guerra that she would like to be a fish so she could touch her nose to his fish tank and make love bubbles. Javier chuckled, which only egged her on to keep singing.

They didn’t stop moving, Javier humming along to her serenading him, and he was thinking about how much he loved this woman who made him laugh so easily and constantly amused him—she was sunshine, all bright, happy, and full of life, and the complete opposite of what he’d been before meeting her.

There was that old saying, ‘Laughter is the best medicine,’ and he was pretty fucking sure it was true with how much better he was with her—she relaxed him, she’d crack a joke, and all of the tension melted away from his body. Her silliness brought him joy, and he felt so good after she told him a funny story, he always wanted her to keep talking. It sometimes felt like she was trying to make up for all of his laughless years before her, and when he thought about it, she had made a point in her marriage vows to promise to keep making him laugh and smile for the rest of their lives; it was a promise that she’d keep making him happy and that his life would never be miserable again. It was the greatest promise anyone had ever made to him, and for as long as he lived, he was going to worship the ground she walked on—he was wholly and undoubtedly hers and he would ensure she was aware of that fact every single day for the rest of their lives.

When the song ended and they came to a stop, he let go of her. His hands held her beautiful face, rubbing his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks, her eyes shining in adoration, and he wanted to kiss that smile on her lips—he was so focused on her that he barely registered those in attendance clapping.

"Javi?" she said.

"Yes, mi vida (my life)?"

“Do you remember the first time we listened to that song?”

He smiled. “Yeah, you were making me my first peanut butter and jelly sandwich while I was cutting apple slices for lunch, and you kept wondering if you were hearing the lyrics right.”

“Good, then I want you to know that eres mi pez, eres mi esposo, y siempre serás mi todo (You are my fish, you are my husband, and you will always be my everything)—I love you."

The tears he was keeping at bay were making his eyes burn, and it could be heard how choked up he was when he replied, "I love you, too."

And to stop himself from crying in front of his wife and the almost hundred people watching, he hugged her to him in a tight embrace, welcoming her arms that held him just as tightly. A content sigh left him as all of the muscles in his body went lax, soaking up her warmth and comfort, the calm washing over him like a cool balm on a hot summer day.

Something about Javier was that, even though he was raised Catholic, he didn't believe in God or any other almighty higher being somewhere out in the ether. It was easy to lose faith when someone had seen the things he'd seen and been through the shit he'd been through. He did, however, believe in fate and that everything happens for a reason; he thought that no matter what choices were made—good, bad, right, or wrong—they’d all lead to the same end result.

For a long time, he questioned the purpose of all that he’d done in Colombia and what his sacrifices were for when, in the end, it felt like it was all for nothing, and in one aspect, it had been a pointless endeavor; everything he did, didn’t end the war on drugs, and there wasn’t anything that could. But those grueling years he spent wading through unimaginable hell and loneliness were the long and rocky road that brought him to the woman he loved—all he went through wasn’t for nothing, because it led him to finding heaven, his Cielito, his wife. This person who was his entire world, who he loved more than anything, whose presence gave him peace, and whose words touched his soul. She made all of the blood, sweat, and tears he’d shed over the years worth it, and he’d happily do it all again since he was fated to find the woman of his dreams and experience today, the best day of his entire life.

It was still hard to believe she said, ‘I do,’ and he found himself unwrapping her left arm from around him and leaning away enough to bring her hand up, delicately holding her fingers in his own. He stared at the two rings, the proof she did marry him. The diamonds on the engagement ring glittered beneath the string lights above them, his thumb smoothing over the new gold band below it that matched the one on his finger. He kissed the modest-sized princess-cut diamond nestled between a pair of smaller ones on either side of it and felt so fucking happy he thought he might combust—he had a wife, he was a husband.

Neither of them were able to get out another word before Diego’s voice was heard over the sound system, “La siguiente canción fue elegida por la novia para el segundo hombre más importante de su vida, quien la recibió en su familia con los brazos abiertos y es el mejor papá que cualquiera podría desear (The following song was chosen by the bride for the second most important man in her life, who welcomed her into his family with open arms, and is the best dad anyone could wish for). ¡Es hora del baile padre e hija (It’s time for the father-daughter dance)!”

Growing up, you weren’t like most other girls who fantasized about their dream wedding. Of course, you hoped one day you’d meet the love of your life and get married. Still, in terms of the wedding itself, you knew from a young age your controlling parents would be heavily involved in the planning to ensure it met their standards and made them look good, so you didn’t see any point in thinking much about it.

Then, you moved thousands of miles away to escape their control and live your life the way you wanted, and on Friday, June 12th, 1998, you fantasized for the first time about what your wedding would be like when you married Javier Peña—not if, when.

It was the evening after he asked you to be his girlfriend, and you were cuddling on your couch, watching a movie—the entire pizza you’d ordered for dinner was eaten, the box sitting closed on the coffee table with a couple of empty cans of Coca-Cola on coasters near it. The two of you were too exhausted from hardly getting any sleep the night before to do anything more exciting than make out a little after eating. Honestly, it was nice how comfortable it was relaxing together. Since Javi was allergic to clothes, he’d been lounging in only his jeans, and when he got up to use the bathroom, you admired his back as he walked away. Ogling his front on his return to the living room, taking in the broadness of his chest, your spine tingling at seeing dark marks you sucked onto his golden skin—you’d wanted to kiss all over his soft belly and scratch your nails down the tantalizing trail of hair that disappeared below the denim’s waistband. He’d been so amused by you blatantly checking him out he stopped paying attention to where he was walking and managed to slam his toe hard into one of the coffee table’s legs, which had him yelling ‘FUCK,’ and lifting his injured foot to awkwardly hop on the other, hissing a string of what you now knew, for sure, were Spanish curse words. Immediately, you jumped up to make sure he was okay and checked the damage to his big toe; it was mostly his ego that’d been bruised, and when you sat back down on the sofa, you made him lie across it with his head in your lap to play with his hair, to cheer him up—apparently, you’d been so tired that a few minutes later you forgot to filter your thoughts and accidentally said out loud:

“Sure wish I was your big toe.”

He had twisted to look up at you, his face showing apparent confusion when he asked, “What?”

Once again, what you were thinking spilled from your lips, “So you’d bang me on the coffee table.”

It’d been unbelievably stupid, yet it made Javi laugh so hard that his eyes practically disappeared with how thinly they slit together and adorably crinkled at the edges while he gave you a huge, blinding smile; his glee was infectious and had you both laughing until you cried—that was when you knew he was The One™️.

This was the first person you ever truly felt like you could be yourself with, and you knew, without a doubt, that he liked you for you and appreciated your silliness. And everything had seemed so easy with him—talking, dating, and how comfortable it was to spend hours on the couch watching TV while going long periods in silence. The familiarity between you two had made it feel as though you’d always known him, and it was crazy that your personalities and backgrounds were so vastly different, yet you meshed so well together—he understood you, and you understood him; you complemented one another. It hadn’t mattered that you were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need a man and never had a single codependent bone in your body; when Javier Peña would leave your apartment or even just the room you were in, you missed him—it was mind-boggling to like someone so much that your chest ached when they weren’t near.

Strangers who heard how quickly your relationship became serious liked to comment on how fast you fell for each other. Falling implies it was by accident, and there was uncertainty about where you’d land when, but in reality, there was no falling, no uncertainty; you were simply two parted souls who were reunited and had finally come home.

So, the evening after he asked you to be his girlfriend, while you both laughed with tears streaming down your cheeks that hurt from smiling so big, it was cemented in your brain that you were going to marry him—a life you could see that would be filled with love, happiness, and laughter.

The wedding you imagined all those months ago was close to how it turned out—a small, intimate ceremony only attended by a select few with a party afterward. Javi wore the black tuxedo you pictured, and his dad and Robyn were there, as you expected; however, it wasn’t your father who gave you away like you thought it’d be, and your mother wasn’t there to watch or even help you get ready. Back then, so soon after starting your relationship, you didn’t know that your parents would disapprove of Javi, and naively you had assumed they’d be happy for your nuptials—you knew they’d hate the wedding you planned, but they still would’ve come with the caveat of complaining the whole time, and there was no expectation for your brother and his family to be there due to how challenging it’d have been to travel with their gaggle of young children. You promised your best friend that you wouldn’t think about the people you used to share a last name with, and you were trying not to. There were simply moments when they came to mind, and you’d feel a pain in your chest like an invisible stab to the heart that tried to ruin this wonderful day.

Frankly, your wedding was turning out better than you initially imagined it. All those who witnessed your ceremony loved it, and everyone at the reception was truly happy for you both. The best part, though, was the man who gave you away wasn’t related to you by blood. Still, he loved you more than those who did—he was genuinely proud of you, he supported your happiness, and would fight for you without a second thought; he was a real father, and you lucked out that he chose to be yours, loving you unconditionally as you always deserved.

There was no one else in the world you wanted to have a father-daughter dance with more than your newly titled father-in-law, Jesús ‘Chucho’ Peña.

As you stepped away from Javi after giving him a sweet departing kiss, you set your sights on your new dad sitting at the table with the Murphys and Robyn—Seb was back to work recording with the camcorder. The song began, starting with the dulcet tone of a violin and an entire orchestra backing it, the whimsicalness of the intro sounding as if it could’ve been pulled from a fairytale movie; “Amor Eterno” by Rocío Dúrcal was a breathtakingly beautiful ballad about grieving someone you loved.

Chucho’s camera was atop the lavender tablecloth in front of him, and he had a hand over his mouth in shock, his eyes glistening with tears beneath the lenses of his glasses—he hadn’t known about the dance, as it was a surprise to show him what he meant to you.

A smile formed on your lips, and you held out your hand toward him, walking his way. Steve was grinning beside the older man, giving him a pat on the back as Chucho stood and you approached.

“Me?” he asked when you were close, pressing his fingertip to the center of his white-dress shirt-covered chest.

You gently poked him over his heart. “You, Pop,” you said. “The best damn dad I’ve ever had, and I’m sorry for springing this on you, but if you’re willing, may I have this dance?”

His eyes rounded, and he took your palm into his, smiling as he answered with a nod, “Yes, Mija. I apologize if I’m a bit rusty. I haven’t danced with anyone since mi Amor.”

“Don’t stress,” you replied, swatting his apology away with your free hand. “We can just sway to the music. That’s always safe.”

“Okay.”

With that, you led him to the middle of the dance floor and faced him, Chucho holding your one hand up while your other was on his shoulder, his free palm resting on the center of your back. You easily followed his basic steps that had you sticking to a small area.

His eyes were on yours. “This is one of my favorite songs,” he said.

You smiled. “I know—it came on the radio the first time we made tamales together, and I remember you telling me it was one of your favorites.”

His face softened. “That’s what’s so great about you; you care, you really care, and not a day goes by without me thanking God for bringing you into our lives—it fills my heart with joy to see my Javi so happy, and I can breathe easier knowing that he finally found his media naranja (soulmate). We’re truly blessed to have you join our family, and I am lucky to be able to call you my daughter because you are my daughter.”

“Oh, Pop,” you said, holding back tears. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mija.” And the truth was shining in his eyes.

“God, I’m trying so hard not to cry.” You took a deep, shaky breath, the two of you still slowly moving, swaying in a circle. “I’m lucky I have you and Javi—you’re such a great father, and you raised an amazing man.” The emotion was heavy in your voice as you continued speaking, your bottom lip wobbling, “I’m so unbelievably thankful and happy. I’ve never been this happy in my entire life.”

He gave you a happy smile. “You deserve it—now, let’s talk about something else so your beautiful makeup doesn’t get ruined by tears.” He lightly squeezed your hand in his.

You huffed in amusement. “Thank you.”

“Did I tell you mi Antonia loved the album this song was on?” he asked as you continued dancing.

“You didn’t,” you answered with a shake of your head.

"She played it all the time when it came out while she cooked or cleaned, and I'd come home to her beautiful voice singing along." It was obvious on his face that he was remembering fond memories. “She loved Juan Gabriel’s songs.” He was the writer of this song and an amazing Mexican singer-songwriter who collaborated with Rocío Dúrcal on many albums. “She had all of his albums, and she’d tell me to be quiet when he came on the radio.” He chuckled. “If we were home, and music was playing, any music, I’d just pull her into my arms, and we’d dance wherever we were in the house; it didn’t matter if we were in the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, or our bedroom, we’d just take a few minutes to ourselves and dance together.” You smiled, thinking about how Javi was the same way; if you put on a record to clean the apartment or turned on the radio to cook, it was a guarantee that he would make you stop and dance with him for at least one song. “That was something we did from the start of our relationship,” he continued, “until…” He swallowed thickly. “Until the very end.” His expression turned solemn, and you could tell the memory that came to him in that moment was painful to recall, your heart breaking for him that he lost the love of his life. He cleared his throat and tried to smile, but the pain was still there behind his eyes. “I see a lot of me and mi Amor in the two of you, and that’s how I know that what you have is real and that it’s gonna last.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

The chorus began, Rocío Dúrcal beautifully singing:

“Amor eterno (Eternal love) Y inolvidable (And unforgettable) Tarde o temprano estaré contigo (Sooner or later, I will be with you) Para seguir amándonos (To continue loving each other).”

Listening to the lyrics, it made sense that this was one of Chucho’s favorite songs—it perfectly captured someone’s grief and their longing to be with the person they lost again. It was rare, but it was known to happen that couples who loved as deeply as your father and mother-in-law did, passed away close together, with the second succumbing to their broken heart. It showed Chucho’s strength that he managed to survive after losing a part of himself—his soulmate—and you were thankful he was strong for your husband. You thought there was a possibility his wife told him he had to keep going for their son’s sake because she knew Javi, just as you did, and had he lost both of his parents, he would’ve self-destructed and been even more reckless in Colombia; it pained you to think that he probably wouldn’t have made it home alive.

The thought of his mother’s possible dying wish and the strength of his father had your vision blurring with tears. You were so unbelievably grateful that Javi had parents who loved him so dearly and that he loved just as fiercely.

Concern showed on Chucho’s face. “What’s wrong, Mija?”

“Nothing.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m just happy—really happy.”

His lips turned up. “I’m happy—really happy, too, and—” His smile evolved into a full-blown grin. “—excited. Now that you’re married, I know mi primero nieto está a la vuelta de la esquina (my first grandchild is right around the corner).”

He made you laugh. “Yes, Pop. We’re hoping we’ll have a kid by the end of the year.”

His eyes went wide. “Really? The end of the year?”

“That’s what we’re trying for.”

It always weirded you out how freely people announced they were fucking raw or, in PG terms, trying for a baby. With how much Chucho yearned to be a grandfather, he’d be beyond happy to know you were trying to make his dream come true, and you were right.

As the song came to a close, he pulled you into him, hugging you tight, and you embraced him in return. “My son got married to a wonderful woman, and there’s a possibility I might be an abuelo (grandpa) by December. This is the best year of my life since Javi was born—thank you.”

“No, thank you for raising an incredible man that I can’t wait to have a family with.”

What he wished most was that he could share this amazing day with his wife.

Chucho knew for certain Antonia would’ve been over the moon with happiness right along with him and would agree that this was turning out to be the best year of their lives since the birth of their son.

What he would give for her to be here standing next to him, holding his hand, and getting a chance to hug her tight as they both cried from being overjoyed that their Javiercito was happy and married to a woman they loved.

If his media naranja (soulmate) were here, he’d hold her in his arms and say, “Nuestro hijo a crecido, mi Amor (Our son has grown up, my Love). ¿Puedes creer que finalmente se casó y que podemos tener un nieto para fin de año (Can you believe he finally got married, and we may have a grandchild by the end of the year)?”

“¡Si dios quiere (God willing)!” she’d answer. “¡Es un sueño hecho realidad, mi Alma (It’s a dream come true, my Soul)! Criamos a un buen hombre, que sé que será un esposo y padre maravilloso (We raised a good man, who I know will be a wonderful husband and father).” He’d agree wholeheartedly and seal it with a kiss.

As they grew older, Antonia’s reason for why Javi needed to hurry up and marry went from her wanting him to give them grandkids, to giving them grandkids and so she’d still be able to do a proper mother-son dance with him since her joints had started aching. Oh, how Chucho would’ve loved to see her dance with that good man they raised.

He wished she could see with her own eyes that Javi was finally home and living the life they had always dreamt for him: having his own family with someone who truly cared about him, loved him, and made him happy. Chucho hadn’t seen their son thrive like this in almost twenty years, and Antonia’s heart would’ve burst with joy, like his did, every time she saw Javi’s big smile.

There was no way for his Amor to be here in person, but she was with them in spirit. Tomorrow, he planned to take the camera film he used today down to the one-hour photo kiosk in the mall parking lot. After the pictures were developed, he’d go visit his Antonia to share them with her and tell her everything that happened; he may have lost her eight years ago, but he could still perfectly picture the beaming smile she’d give him upon hearing the news.

The image in his mind lifted the corners of his lips—he missed that smile, as he missed her, especially today.

He was excited to tell her how their new daughter had surprised him with a father-daughter dance to a song with special meaning. He found comfort in “Amor Eterno,” and for some weeks after his wife’s passing, that album she loved was all he listened to—it took years for him to be able to hear the song without crying. Now, he had a happier memory attached to it, which he appreciated.

With the absence of the bride’s parents—who were unwelcome anyway and were not allowed to step foot on his property—Chucho had assumed there wouldn’t be a father-daughter dance or a mother-son dance, since his Amor couldn’t be there. He was touched that Javi’s Cielito thought so highly of him that she’d honor him with the dance.

He welcomed her into their family the first time they met and had been ready to be a father-in-law to her, but when he heard about how her family treated and disrespected her, Chucho had no problem stepping up to be a father-figure if she so wished, and she did. This poor girl was so kind and truly wonderful; it saddened him that her parents didn’t love her as she deserved or supported her life choices. By no means were he and his wife perfect parents—there were things they wished they could’ve done differently with Javi, but they sure loved the hell out of him and supported him. A parent should want their child to be happy, healthy, and successful; as long as they’re happy and healthy, it shouldn’t matter what they decide to do with their life that they consider success.

Swimming made Javi happy, and they did whatever they could to encourage him.

They knew their son wasn’t happy in Colombia, but he was passionate about his job and wanted to get it done, so they continued cheering him on and were there for him whenever and however he needed them to be as best they could from home.

Chucho was damn proud of the things his new daughter had achieved in her life, and he’d still be proud of her no matter what she did for work because the only thing that mattered was her happiness.

He knew her father was a well-educated man with many fancy degrees. Still, Chucho questioned the other man’s intelligence because he couldn’t seem to comprehend something so basic as caring about his kid’s well-being and loving them unconditionally.

Frankly, Chucho was glad she was no longer under her parents’ scrutiny, and it felt good that she thought so highly of him as a dad that she honored him with the dance.

Another surprise that warmed his heart was his son taking the time to dance a whole song with each of Chucho’s sisters. Javier went from oldest to youngest, starting with his tía María, to the song “¿Y Cómo es El?” by José Luis Perales, then his tía Lupe—who had him laughing while they moved around the dance floor—to “Sergio el Bailador” by Bronco, one of her favorite songs. Now, he was dancing with his tía Rebeca to “Piel Canela” by Eydie Gormé, the two slowly moving from side to side and talking.

He stood at the edge of the dance floor taking pictures of his son and his baby sister; his sobrino (nephew), Sebastián, was beside him with a video camera, recording what was going on.

“Hey, good lookin’,” Robyn said as she approached them from behind.

Chucho lowered the camera from his face with a smile, his upper body twisting to the right to look at her. “Hola, Pajarito (Hi, little bird).”

Seb interjected, “Sabes que ella estaba hablando conmigo, Tío (You know she was talking to me, Uncle).” He addressed the woman, “Hola, hermosa (Hi, beautiful).” The younger man had the camcorder held up but turned his head to accept a quick kiss from his girlfriend, who had to rise up on her toes to meet his mouth.

She broke away, grinning, and replied, “No, I was greetin’ Chucho.” Her attention turned to him. “You’re lookin’ mighty handsome tonight, and I gotta say, it was lovely watchin’ you dance with my girl.”

“It was lovely that she asked me.”

The bride was sitting over at the table with the Murphys in his empty spot, the love clear in her eyes as she stared at her husband—it was sweet.

“What are you doing over here?” Seb asked her. She turned his way and stepped to have herself against his side. She wrapped her arms around his middle and tilted her head to meet his eyes.

“You were standin’ here lookin’ like sex on legs, and I needed to come remind you that I’m takin’ your ass home tonight.”

Chucho chuckled. It was easy to see why Robyn and his daughter were instant best friends the first time they met—neither had any shame and said what they were thinking. It was incredibly amusing.

The younger man wore a little smile. “Yes, you are,” Sebastián replied. “I didn’t forget. You wanna stay with me? This is the last dance I have to record, and then I’m all yours.”

“I think I will—if that’s alright with you,” she directed at Chucho, looking over her shoulder at him.

He smiled. “You go ahead. I think I’ll head back to the table.”

His knees were sore, and he needed to sit down for a little while. Just as the song was ending, he turned toward the table and saw that his new daughter was already standing at the corner of the dance floor, waiting for her husband. Javi gave his tía a quick hug, and Chucho smiled at how, the moment his son’s arms left Rebeca, he was zeroing in on his wife.

Chucho wouldn’t say they hugged upon reaching each other; hug was too tame of a word to describe their intimate embrace, which almost had him blushing—and because he was a father whose sole purpose was to give his child or children a hard time, he lifted his camera, and snapped a picture so that he could tease them relentlessly later on.

Wolf whistles sounded, people cheered, and he chuckled at the fact there was no denying Javier was his son—Chucho couldn’t keep his hands off his wife either, and if things had been different, if life was a little kinder, they probably would’ve had at least ten kids. He was more than happy with his one, though; su bendición (his blessing), who’d grown into an incredible man he couldn’t be prouder of. With all the good that had happened to Javier over the last year, he believed his son would have much better luck when it came to having children, and Chucho loved the idea of ten nietos (grandchildren) to spoil rotten.

The white satin hugging her ass was silky smooth beneath both of Javier’s palms, his tongue in her mouth, tasting the sweetness of powdered sugar and hints of the buttery nuttiness from a Mexican wedding cookie she’d eaten. He loved how her fingers tangled in his hair, and he wanted to drown in the scent of her perfume that had him feeling heady with its fruity, woodsy notes, Javier already half-hard in his pants.

He was happy his father and tías had a chance to be honored with dances after all they’d done for him and Cielito, but the closer he got to finishing his last dance, the more his anticipation grew to be alone with his wife—it was taking everything in him not to drag her away right this second, but he was waiting for—

Diego spoke into the microphone, “¡Damas y caballeros, es hora de festejar (Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to party)! ¡Quiero verlos a todos en la pista de baile (I want to see you all on the dance floor)!”

The whine of an accordion, accompanied by a quick beat, came over the speakers—it was the beginning of “La Chona” by Los Tucanes de Tijuana, and with the excited cheers and whistles, people were doing as his primo said, moving onto the dance floor. This was when the newlyweds could make their escape. Javier reluctantly ended the kiss, his hand latching onto her smaller one.

“Come on,” was all he said, quickly leading her away from the party and out of the tent, her giggles trailing behind him.

He was on a mission, hurriedly thanking those they passed by who congratulated them and getting her into the house, managing to make it through the kitchen to the entryway that his old bedroom was off of without his tía María noticing as she stood at the kitchen sink. Javier tugged Cielito into the room, pushing her back against the door he closed—his lips crushed onto hers in a searing kiss while he turned the lock on the doorknob and flicked on the light switch.

All night, the tension had built to this moment that found them alone, behind a locked door, and both so desperate for the other that it was a frenzy of messy kisses and fumbling hands to get their clothes off—his tuxedo jacket was first to go, his tie next, her fingers popping open a few of his top shirt buttons; then he was hauling her away from the door, turning them so he was walking her backward into the bedroom, his digits deftly pulling down the zipper at the back of her dress. They came to a stop, the kissing continuing while he carefully pulled the straps off her arms, the silk wedding dress cascading to the floor to pool at her feet.

Before the ceremony, when he snuck over here to talk to her as she got ready, she let him feel what she was wearing beneath the dress, and now he got to see. Javier held her fingers in one hand, unable to stop touching her, and took a step back to drink her in, his cock already throbbing and straining against the zipper of his dress pants.

His eyes stared at her beautiful face and moved downward—he loved her with or without makeup; he didn’t have a preference since he always thought she was gorgeous, just as she was now, all dolled up. His gaze moved to her chest, seeing the white, lacy strapless bra for the first time, and his fingers itched to undo it to see her perfect tits. Lower, she had on stretchy spandex like her bicycle shorts that went halfway up her abdomen and midway down her thighs—her reasoning for wearing the Spanx was so she didn’t look ‘lumpy’ or have panty lines in her dress that tightly hugged her figure; Javier wasn’t a fan of them hiding her belly, or the idea that she felt self-conscious enough to hide it, but they made her feel comfortable, and that was all that mattered. Plus, he knew if she turned around, he’d love how good the spandex made her ass look. He would’ve had her show him, however, his attention was stuck on the blue garter wrapped around her thigh, sitting just above her knee.

The strip of satin was dusty blue, with a bow made from the same material placed in the center over an overlay of ivory floral lace. The wedding tradition was to have the groom remove the garter and toss it into the crowd like the bride does with the bouquet, but Javier didn’t like the idea of getting under her dress in front of a tent full of people. It was something he wanted to do alone with her, because there was no way he was only removing the garter if he had a chance to get under her dress.

Her beauty, her smell, that damn blue garter, and the fact that once it was off, he could strip everything else she was wearing from below the waist from her had him hitting his breaking point—he needed her so bad, he thought he might go insane if he didn’t have his face buried in her pussy within the next two minutes. His lips landed on hers, kissing her hard and swallowing her moan, relishing her fingers sliding back into his hair. Their tongues were entangled, and with his hands on her waist, he spun them to the left, moving her backward a few steps, to press her spine against the wall. His heart was pounding in his chest, arousal curling in his gut, and his breaths panted when his mouth left hers to nip at her chin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, kissing a wet streak along her jaw. “So fucking beautiful.” His lips made a journey down her throat, sucking on her pulse point; she gasped, her hands pulling his hair harder, Javier groaning at the pleasurable pain.

He spoke his words into her skin as he kissed along her chest, “You’re my wife, my beautiful, sexy wife.” His head dipped, and Javier lightly sunk his teeth into the top of her breast.

“Javi,” she moaned. “Oh, god, why are you so hot?”

He soothed over his bite with a kiss and said when his face lifted, “Because I’m the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk.” Javier smirked.

She giggled, grinning at him. “You’re a sexy dork, is what you are.”

“Your sexy dork.”

“Yes, you are.” Her hands pushed down on his shoulders, and he understood immediately, starting to lower himself, kissing her body as he went—her neck, her chest, her tits, her stomach; Javier chose to ignore his joints popping when he took a knee.

He removed her thin shoe as he lifted her foot to rest on top of his thigh. Keeping his eyes on hers, he took the garter’s silk between his teeth and slowly pulled it over her bent knee, going lower until it fell freely down her calf to her ankle, where he took it off. Javier slid the soft, smooth fabric over his hand and up his arm to wear it on his bicep for everyone to see.

She was smiling down at him, her eyes darkened. “I am so in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you,” he replied, kissing the side of her thigh. He set her foot back onto the ground, their gazes locked while he took off and pocketed the golden cufflinks from his wrists, speaking as he began rolling up his sleeves, “I’m going to make you come with my mouth,” he said, finishing one, and starting on the second. “Then, as I told you earlier, I’m fucking you against this wall—” He nodded at the one behind her. “—while you taste your pussy on my tongue.” Both of his sleeves were rolled up his forearms. “Any requests?” he asked and got his fingers under the waistband of her Spanx.

“Yes.” She nodded and cupped his cheek with her palm. “After you come deep inside me, where I promise to keep you all night, you’re going to tie your bow tie around my arm—if you're wearing my garter, then I'm wearing your bow tie."

Javier wasn’t a possessive man, yet knowing she’d wear so many things to show she was his, and only his, had his chest swelling up with pride and happiness vibrating under his skin—like her, he wanted to broadcast to everyone that he was hers, and hers alone, and the ring on his finger wasn’t enough for him tonight.

The sound he made was practically a growl as he tugged the stretchy fabric down her legs, revealing that she was wearing nothing beneath it. He couldn’t help himself and shoved his face between her legs, deeply inhaling her while freeing her foot from the shorts, her hands clutching his hair. Javier’s mouth was watering at the thought of tasting her, and he became impatient, raising the leg he freed onto his shoulder to give him room to work with—two of his fingers spread open the lips of her sex, seeing it glistening with her need for him.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he said, and he meant it. Javier licked his lips, and he was unable to wait for another second, leaning in—

Knocking sounded on the bedroom door, his head whipping toward the noise.

“Hey,” his dad’s muffled voice said, “when you’re finished getting ready, I told Connie that Nate can sleep in Javi’s old bed—the poor little guy can barely keep his eyes open, and the music is too loud for him to sleep out there. If only the nursery were finished, we could’ve had him give it a test drive.” Chucho chuckled. “Oh, and Mija, Robyn wanted me to tell you she requested one of your favorite songs.”

Javier loved his dad a lot, especially how he cared about his friends’ family, but the man had the worst timing. Frustration had him wanting to pull his hair out because there was no way he could continue what they were doing when his sobrino (nephew) needed a place to sleep; that was more important than Javier getting his dick wet. He looked up at his wife to commiserate over their bad luck, and his stomach dropped at seeing her hands hiding her face in embarrassment—it reminded him of the first time he’d brought her out here to meet his dad and how mortified she’d been when the elder Peña knocked while Javier was inside her. Her discomfort had his arousal fizzling out, guilt and concern replacing it; he needed to make her feel better, so he slid a hand up the outside of her bare thigh to rub comforting circles on her hip.

“Amor,” he whispered for just her ears. “Pop would be teasing the fuck out of us if he knew what we were up to—he doesn’t know.”

Her palms lowered, and her expression said she wasn’t sure if she believed him.

“Give us ten minutes, Pop!” Javier said, loud enough for his father to hear.

Her eyes rounded. “We are not fucking,” she hissed.

His eyebrow arched, speaking quietly, “I know, and I’m no two-pump chump. We’d need more than ten minutes to fuck, baby.” He gently got her leg off his shoulder.

“I’ll let Connie know,” Chucho said. “And I’ll make sure they don’t play the song until you’re out there.”

“Thanks, Pop!” Cielito replied.

“You’re welcome, see you soon.”

Javier used his hands on his knee to push himself up to stand, grunting as he rose to his feet in front of his wife. He rubbed his palms along her upper arms, then lifted her chin with his finger to make her look at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She was frowning. “The risk of getting caught? Hot. It really gets me going. Actually getting or almost getting caught? Mortifying, and I’d rather the earth swallow me whole than experience it.”

“Lo siento, mi amor (I’m sorry, my love). I know you hate when it happens. I get it if you want to hold off trying anything else before we leave. But, if you still wanna fool around while we’re out here, we’ll have better luck in the laundry room, or I can grab a lantern from the barn for the hayloft.”

It was on her face that she was weighing his suggestions, and the fact that she was even considering had excitement thrumming inside him. He, of course, was fine with waiting to fuck until they got to the hotel room he was surprising her with tonight, but holy shit, was he unbelievably horny for her.

“I’m not feeling the scratchiness of hay or getting my cute white dress dirty,” she responded. “I’d be down for the laundry room, though—you’re right, location-wise, it’s perfect.”

He smiled big, happily chuckling as he kissed her. When he broke away, he nuzzled his nose against hers.

“I really fucking love you,” he said.

“I really fucking love you, too.”

Javier pressed his large palm to her cheek and gazed into her eyes, the expression on her face just as happy as his. “Soy el hombre más afortunado del mundo de poder llamarme tu esposo (I am the luckiest man in the world to be able to call myself your husband).”

Her eyes softened. “La afortunada soy yo (I’m the lucky one). Tengo el honor de ser tu esposa (I have the honor of being your wife)—” She poked him in the chest. “—y tener a tus bebés lindos (and having your cute babies).”

The happiness and excitement of all she said being true had him wrapping her up in his arms, her feet coming off the ground as he spun them around in place, making her laugh. When they came to a stop, he was panting, the two of them wearing matching grins, and Javier couldn’t think of another day in his entire life that he’d ever been as happy as he was today—it indeed was the happiest day of his life, and what made his eyes start misting was knowing this was the first of many happiest days of his life that were yet to come.

It was she who kissed him this time, her hands grabbing his face to pull him into her as she smashed her lips against his. Javier leaned further into her, hugging her tightly to have as much of them touching as possible. He loved how their bodies fit so perfectly together—the softness of hers giving way to the hardness of his own.

They wore big smiles when they separated, Cielito giggling at him playfully smacking her ass as she moved away. He turned to watch her approach his old full-size bed, unable to keep his eyes from roaming over her body from behind.

God, she was sexy—how’d he get so lucky?

The dress she was wearing to the party was laid out atop the mattress, and he was so focused on checking her out that he missed what she picked up from beside her outfit. He wasn’t in the dark for long, though, with her purposefully keeping her back to him while pulling on a white lacy thong—he was still hard, and the sight had his dick twitching, a groan tumbling from his throat. Javier’s hands went to the front of his slacks to adjust himself, trapping his hard-on under the waistband of his pants.

She looked at him over her shoulder, her pretty eyes sparkling with mischief, her lips lifted in a smile that told him she knew exactly what she was doing. “I wanted it to be a surprise for when we got home,” she said. “But, I kinda like you knowing what awaits when you get under my dress.” She winked.

His feet were moving of their own accord. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me?” he asked, and as he got closer to her, he could see the lace lining the tops of her asscheeks that went around her waist had a floral design—sunflowers, to be exact. Before he could reach her, she spun around to face him, putting up her hand to keep him back; it pressed against his chest as he stopped.

“No touching,” she quickly told him with a smirk, his own lips turning down in a frown. “And kill you? No.” She shook her head. “Torture you? Maybe a little.” Cielito shrugged.

“Torture your new husband? That’s pretty fucking mean, mi amor.”

Her palm moved to caress his cheek. “Can’t a girl love it when her husband is needy for her?”

Javier took her hand and pressed it against the front of his pants, over his hard cock. “Feel how needy your husband is for you, how I want you more than anything, and am dying to be inside you—your ass in that fucking thong is all I’m gonna be able to think about until I get another chance alone with you.”

She squeezed him, and it had his mouth going slack, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped.

"Good—that's exactly what I want." She pecked him on the lips and let go of him, her upper body twisting to grab her dress off of the bed. "Now, stop distracting me. I’m in a hurry," she said, pulling the garment over her head. Her arms went through the spaghetti straps, and she turned away from him again, holding the front of the dress to her chest, the back gaping open along the bodice. "Can you zip me up, babe? Pretty please."

"Yeah," he answered and did as she requested, carefully zipping her up and managing to kiss her bare shoulder once before she faced him again.

The day she bought the dress for the party, she showed it to him when she got home and even modeled it for him. At that time, he still had it in his head that he was going to do things right by her and wait to consummate their marriage until he got her to the hotel. When he saw her in the tight, white satin that went down to her knees with a goddamn slit halfway up her left thigh, Javier knew his strength was going to be tested tonight; he really did hope he could hold out.

Unfortunately, his resolve was thrown out the window the night before when he had to spend it alone, thinking about the sexy woman in front of him, and Jesus Christ, was she so fucking sexy—he could see now that it was a shorter, sexier version of her wedding dress with the neckline V-ing to accentuate her tits, while the buttery soft fabric molded to her curves perfectly like the other dress.

“Do I look okay?” she asked, and his attention went to her face, seeing she was looking down at her body with a frown, which made him match her expression.

Javier hated when she doubted her beauty, and he wished she could see from his perspective just how perfect she was.

He lifted her chin with his finger to make her meet his gaze, and he smiled. “You look more than okay, Cielito,” he reassured her. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” he very confidently replied.

His eyes moved down her form again, taking in her beauty, and he wet his bottom lip, silently cursing that they couldn’t stay in this room alone and uninterrupted for a quickie. His gaze reached hers one more, and amusement was clear on her face. She kissed his cheek as she walked around him to put on her shoe.

“What?” he asked, turning in place to look at her.

She kept her balance with a hand on the wall while fitting her flat back onto her foot.

“You’ve got ‘fuck me’ eyes,” she replied, setting her shoed foot on the ground and moving toward the door.

He started heading her way. “I have ‘fuck me’ eyes?” he retorted. He was glad she was over her moment of self-consciousness. “Baby, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy all night, giving me ‘fuck me’ eyes.”

She stopped to bend over and pick something up off of the floor, his gaze stuck on her ass, picturing the white lace he knew was under the satin.

“And I’m gonna keep giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes until you fuck me, Javier.” She straightened and spun on her heel to look at him.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you think I’m not trying hard enough?”

“I think you’re doing the best you can in our current situation, and I know, without a doubt, you’re gonna use that big, sexy brain of yours to find us a way to fool around uninterrupted. I mean this lovingly,” she continued, reaching out to touch his arm with her palm. “You’re a stubborn man and horny stubborn Javi cannot be stopped—we both wanna fuck, and you’re gonna figure out a way for us to fuck, because you are a wonderful husband.”

Javier loved hearing her call him a wonderful husband.

He smiled. “You really think my brain is sexy?”

Her eyebrow lifted. “Javi, baby, all of you is sexy, including your brain, and you are aware your intelligence turns me on—like how when we go stargazing, you nerding out about the stars makes me wet and is a very effective form of foreplay.”

That was true—they always end up fucking when they go stargazing. Javier couldn’t stop his chest from puffing up a little that his wife was turned on by how smart he was.

She rolled her eyes and kept talking, “It seems your ego has been stroked enough.” She held out his bow tie to him. “Here. Take this. We need to get going.”

His brows furrowed—he thought they were adjusting their outfits to be more comfortable when they went back out to the party. He didn’t understand why she’d want him to put his tie back on.

“Really? I’ll wear it, but you have to tie it.”

His fingers started re-buttoning his shirt, and Cielito batted at his hands. “Stop that—you’re not wearing it, you’re tying it onto my arm. Remember?”

She still wanted to wear his bow tie, which made his heart so happy it could burst. Javier grinned, accepting the long strip of black fabric.

“I do,” he said, and she turned to give him better access to her arm, choosing the same side he had her garter on. He lifted her limb by the elbow and ducked his head to kiss a spot midway down her bicep, then looped his bow tie around where he kissed, tying it like he’d tie shoelaces.

Before they left, they picked up their discarded clothes, hanging up her dress and his tuxedo jacket in his old closet, her Spanx getting put into her overnight bag, which she’d brought with her the previous night when she stayed over. His lips found hers one last time, then he took her smaller hand into his and led her out of the room.

Music blared outside the house, but inside, it was dampened aside from the pounding bass that could practically be felt. They found Connie and their dad sitting at the kitchen table, Chucho holding the Murphy’s youngest and feeding him a bottle while he quietly chatted with the mother.

Yeah, it sucked that Javier and his wife were interrupted before things could get good, but seeing the look of relief and gratitude on their friend’s face when they told her the room was hers completely washed away any bad feelings they had. See, since he and Cielito were trying to start their family, babies were on both of their brains, and they could put themselves into Connie’s shoes, wanting to help out the mother in any way possible; after she left the kitchen with Nate, his father explained that Steve had the two older kids back at the party eating cake, and Chucho happily volunteered to give Connie a hand even though she vehemently protested. He told her he wanted to get some practice in being an abuelo, and she thought that was so sweet she let him make the bottle—which he knew how to do from when Javier was a baby and from the bottle-fed calves on the ranch, like Daphne and Velma—and try to get Nate asleep by feeding him, an endeavor he succeeded in doing.

Chucho was pretty fucking proud of himself.

He told them he picked Connie’s brain about what he should get for the nursery because things weren’t as simple as they were back when Javier was born—he somehow figured out a way to write down a list while feeding Nate, and at the top of it, ‘Diaper Genie’ was underlined twice, and circled.

They loved their father’s excitement over becoming a grandfather. Even with the pressure sometimes stressing them out, Chucho meant well, and they appreciated the extra support.

Minutes later, the newlyweds found themselves under the tent and on the dance floor.

Javier knew which song Robyn requested the moment he heard the opening synthesizers—if his wife ranked her favorite ABBA songs, “Lay All Your Love On Me” would take the top spot, and her ear-splitting squeal as it came on confirmed as much.

His hands were on her hips while her arms were around his neck, and up until this point, her eyes had been closed as they moved to the rhythm of the previous song; now they were open, and the expression on her face showed her pure delight, which made him smile. She threw her hands up when the drums kicked in, bouncing on her toes to the beat.

She sang along with the track:

“I wasn’t jealous before we met…”

If it wouldn’t ruin her performance, Javier would tell her after each of the lines that there wasn’t a single woman on the entire planet that was a threat to her, and he liked that she was a little possessive of him; that he was the only man she wanted, and she staked her claim that he was hers.

The following line had her miming taking a drag of a cigarette, and it made him chuckle before a tingle was moving down his spine at her palm pressing to his cheek as she stared deeply into his eyes. With the time since they left his old bedroom, Javier had calmed down to the point that he wasn’t hard anymore, something he didn’t think would last.

“But now it isn’t true.”

Her hand moved to rest over his thudding heart.

“Now everything is new

And all I’ve learned has overturned I beg of you.”

She had both of her palms on his chest, their gazes locked, and he knew he was fucked.

“Don’t go wasting your emotion—”

As she sang, her darkened eyes stayed on his as her body lowered, her hands following, dragging them down his abdomen, over his stomach, his waist, his thighs, to the tops of his knees until her head was at the same level as his crotch. With how she was looking up at him under her eyelashes and how close she was to his dick, his mouth went dry, the blood rushing to his groin. He had to hold back his groan at the thought of how she would’ve nuzzled the front of his pants if they were alone. He needed to touch her and rested his hands on her bare shoulders.

She continued singing:

“—Lay all your love on me.”

His wife rose, rubbing her palms back up the way they came, and it was embarrassing that he was so pent up that just her touch was fucking him up. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead; she had him feeling hot enough that he had to undo another button on his shirt.

Cielito faced away from him, grinding her ass against his half-hard cock, and she rolled her head back onto his shoulder, reaching a hand behind her to thread fingers into his hair. His hands fell to her hips, pulling them back into his, and when he turned his head to look at her as she sang that ‘a grown-up woman should never fall so easily,’ she was giving him those damn ‘fuck me’ eyes—he loved her so fucking much, but she was going to be the death of him.

He let his body move with hers and thought it wasn’t fair that he was the one getting worked up—two could play this very dangerous game. Javier ducked his head to kiss along the skin of her shoulder and up to her neck, where he sucked over her pulse. The way her voice faltered for a second only encouraged him.

He grazed his teeth across the pounding pulse point, ending with a nip to her jaw.

“—Fuck,” the last word was moaned, and he smiled, feeling her entire body shiver.

His wife caught onto what he was doing and spun away from him to end up at his back with her front pressed to his spine—her arms went around him, singing while her palms started at his belly and trailed up his torso to his pecs where he grabbed them. He raised one of her hands, rubbing it against his smooth cheek, and then kissed the center of her palm.

This wasn’t the first time she’d done something like this, and Javier didn’t know what it was about this song in particular that riled her up so much. When “Lay All Your Love On Me” came on while they were by themselves at home, her antics were even hornier, and she usually made him sit back on the couch while she gave him a fully-clothed lap dance. Her kryptonite, though? The thing that made it a 100% guarantee they were going to fuck after the song? Was him singing it. He loved that the simplest things turned her on, and if it got her to disappear to the laundry room with him, he had no problem exploiting her weakness.

He turned in her hold, slotting his knee between both of hers, his hand gripping her hip while the other grasped her palm, and he started moving them to the music in the little space they occupied. His lips went to her ear, and she immediately went quiet as he softly crooned along with the song:

“‘Cause everything is new

And everything is you

And all I’ve learned has overturned

What can I do?”

“You can kiss me,” she said, breaking her hand free from his to grab his face with both of hers to kiss him hotly.

He gave as good as he got, wrapping one arm around her middle, his free hand cradling the back of her skull. She sought entrance to his mouth with a swipe of her tongue along the seam of his lips, and he eagerly opened to tangle his own with hers.

How they knew each other so well had happiness swelling inside him. She was his best friend, the love of his life, and there wasn’t anyone else he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

The two of them were breathing hard when their lips detached at the song’s end, both smiling. She was giving him that look that told him she was on the same page as him for where they were about to go.

“You wanna get out of—” His question died when someone clapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Jav?” Steve said to get his attention, and Javier couldn’t help his glare when he looked at the other man. His friend’s expression pinched in confusion. “Why the hell are you giving me that look?”

Javier took a deep breath and slowly let it out, schooling his features to hide his annoyance. “What did you need?”

“It’s getting kind of late for the kids, and Olivia was looking forward to dancing with you. Can you dance to one song with her? It’d mean a lot to her, and to me ‘cause it’ll get her to stop talking to that boy, Efraim.” Steve jutted his thumb back toward their table where Olivia was laughing at Efraim, who was one of his primo’s kids and about her age. Chucho was over there, too, with Connie, a baby monitor in front of her, and both adults watching Stevie, the three-year-old playing with his Ninja Turtle action figures on the table next to them, the woman saying something to his dad. His friend was frowning. “I’m not ready for my baby girl to like boys, and I don’t like that he’s making her laugh so much.”

The reminder that he promised Olivia a dance was like having ice-cold water poured over him, his stomach dropping to the floor that he’d forgotten. He took in what Steve said, and he wanted to be annoyed with the older man’s overprotectiveness, but once again, he could step into the parent’s shoes. He also wouldn’t be ready for his nine-year-old daughter to like boys—if he had a daughter, he wouldn’t be ready for her to like boys at any age, even though that was irrational, and he knew it’d happen at some point; hopefully when she was twenty-five, or better yet, thirty.

“Efraim’s a sweet kid, Steve,” Cielito said. “Olivia is just making a new friend—you weren’t complaining earlier when Javi was dancing with his tías, and she was playing with all those other children.” Most of Javier’s fourteen cousins had more than one kid, and that meant there were a lot of children running around.

“That was a group,” Steve replied. “I’m not big on this one-on-one stuff.”

Javier could see this heading into an argument between his wife and best friend, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with that, so he’d nip it in the bud.

His attention turned to Cielito, rubbing his palms along her arms. “Hey,” he said, and she looked at him. “I’m gonna go dance with Olivia. I promised her I would, and I’ll feel like shit if I don't keep my word.” He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear. “Don’t wander off—as soon as I’m done, you’re coming with me, and I’m getting you out of those panties.” To punctuate his sentence, he grabbed a handful of her ass, making her giggle.

“You better.” She winked, and he smiled, giving her a quick kiss.

Past-you deserved a high-five for thinking to fool around on the drive back to Chucho’s. The thought of how insanely grumpy Javi would be right now if you hadn’t was enough to make you shudder. Steve should honestly thank you for saving him from getting his head chewed off when he derailed your sexy laundry room plans.

Having your two attempts at horny rendezvous interrupted wasn’t great, and you were starting to develop whatever the woman equivalent of ‘blue balls’ was. You couldn’t be mad at Pop or Steve, though, because they had good reasons: Nate needing a place to sleep away from all the noise? Understandable—the living room couch was taken by a couple of Javi’s cousin’s babies, and since Chucho gutted the guest bedroom to turn it into a nursery, Javi's old bed was the only option for the Murphy’s one-year-old. Steve, reminding your husband that he promised Olivia a dance? A good reminder, because if they left while Javi and you were busy fucking, your husband would’ve been really upset with himself for letting her down; he already worried about her feeling like she was less important to him with all of the changes in his life, and forgetting the dance would’ve been devastating for them both.

What this highlighted was how much of a family man Javier was. His desires came secondary to his family’s needs, and that showed what a wonderful husband he already was.

You married a good, good man, and dear god, he was so hot.

Diego was playing another track by Los Tucanes de Tijuana with a quick beat, “El Tucanazo.” Olivia was laughing as Javi made her twirl with a grin on his flushed face and pulled her back to him. With their height difference, his arm was fully extended to hold her shoulder, her small palm resting on his elbow, while his other hand kept her tinier one up to lead her in simple steps that involved a lot of him twirling her—she was absolutely loving it.

It had you imagining Javier dancing with your future daughter, and what really gave you the warm fuzzies was knowing he’d start dancing with her as a baby in his arms—he’d dance with all of your babies.

What a wonderful husband and future father.

“Spin, tía!” Stevie yelled in your arms.

Right. When Javi asked Olivia to dance, the three-year-old felt left out and got upset, so in order to stop him from having a total meltdown—it was past his bedtime—you offered to dance with him, as his new tía and the wedding’s bride. You had him on your hip, holding his little hand in yours, and you accidentally got distracted by your husband’s hotness.

“Sorry, kiddo,” you replied, bouncing with him to the music’s rhythm. The child giggled each time you spun, going one way, then the other, and pausing every once in a while so you didn’t get dizzy. During one of those pauses, you happened to catch Javi’s dark eyes staring at you, and it made you feel pretty incredible that he was just as distracted by you.

When the song ended, Connie and Steve decided it was time to get their children back to their hotel. They weren’t accustomed to these parties that went on for hours like your new family was, and they didn’t want to mess with boys’ sleep schedules too much. Goodbyes were made outside of the tent, with the promise to Olivia and Stevie that you’d all eat an early dinner together the following day at their hotel’s restaurant before their flight home. After watching the Murphys walk back into the house to get Nate on their way to their SUV out front, the two of you were alone, Javi holding you from behind with his chin on your shoulder.

“Five minutes?” you asked, “Or should we play it safe and wait ten?”

“Five minutes isn’t enough time,” he spoke in your ear. “Connie will have everyone use the bathroom before their drive back into town. We add in Nate maybe needing a diaper change, and we’re looking at a minimum of ten minutes before they’re out of the house and on their way.”

You hugged his arms to you, smiling. “Look at you having the family-with-small-children math down,” you said, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “What do you wanna do while we wait?”

“We could make out?”

“That sounds like a good time.”

Diego came over the speakers, announcing, “Bien, vamos a frenar las cosas (Okay, let’s slow things down).” Selena’s “Dreaming Of You” started playing.

“Or,” Javi started, “we could slow dance…?”

“What a romantic man—may I have this dance, Mr. Peña?”

“You may, Mrs. Peña.” He kissed a spot behind your ear, then moved to take your hand, leading you back into the tent to the dance floor that was occupied by many other couples.

When he suggested slow dancing, you imagined it’d be like how you danced your first dance, and at home in the kitchen many times before, with him leading you by one of your hands while the two of you slowly moved. You weren’t expecting him to loop your arms around his neck or for him to pull you into him with his big palms midway between your waist and ass to have you dancing like a couple of teenagers at prom. You nestled your face in the crook of his neck where he dabbed some of his spicy cologne, and the two of you swayed back and forth while Selena sang about there being nowhere else in the world she’d rather be than in her room, dreaming about herself with the one she loved.

This was the first moment all day where you felt relaxed—there were no more worries about setting up the party, the ceremony was done, and so were the dances. Now, you were just another pair on the dance floor, slowly moving to the music. There was no need for talking. Both of you simply enjoying the other’s company without everyone’s attention on you.

When the song ended, you still needed to kill another handful of minutes, and that was how you ended up camped out by the house’s backdoor, sharing a slice of your wedding cake—it was vanilla cake with lemon curd filling and raspberry buttercream icing. Like all of Anna’s baked goods, the cake was incredible. You each had your own plastic fork while Javi held the small paper plate. Your husband kept peeking through the door’s window, trying to keep out of the way of the few people going in and out of the home.

A disappointed sound came from you when, in the middle of taking a bite, Javi suddenly tossed the rest of the cake into a nearby trashcan along with his fork and grabbed your hand.

“Let’s go,” he said, and you only had a split second to toss your own fork into the garbage before you were getting tugged along into the house.

The backdoor led down a hall to the kitchen, and just inside the door to the right was the staircase that went up to Chucho’s room. If you walked a little further down the hallway, the guest bathroom was on the right, and another hallway was to the left, which would take you to the guest bedroom—soon to be nursery—and the laundry room.

Anticipation swelled inside you, arousal burning in your belly again now that you were on your way to finally having your husband alone and uninterrupted. The two of you were being as quiet as possible so as not to draw any attention to you, and once you entered the darkened hallway to your destination, you found yourself getting pressed back against a wall and Javi’s lips claiming yours—this wasn’t a chaste kiss; it was filthy with how his tongue plundered your mouth, feeling his desperation and need to have you. Your fingers clutched at the front of his dress shirt, and with his strength, he pulled you along by the hips, Javi walking backward while your lips stayed fused together.

The bass of the track Diego was playing could be heard, but the closer you got to the laundry room, there were other muffled noises, one staying on beat with the song and another—

“Harder,” Robyn moaned on the other side of the door, and the dull smacking sound got louder.

You and Javi came to a sudden stop, his mouth breaking away from yours as his head turned at breakneck speed toward the obvious sounds of your best friend and his cousin fucking in the laundry room.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” your husband quietly growled.

From where you were standing, you could make out Sebastián grunting as he continued to thrust, “You’re mine, aren’t you? You’re my good little slut—say it.”

“I’m your good little slut,” Robyn breathily whined.

“That’s fucking right—open your mouth.” There was the unmistakable sound of the other man spitting, and you were stuck in place, eyes wide. “Swallow—that’s it, mi petirrojito (my little robin). You gonna come for me? You need my hand around that pretty throat?”

Now, you and Robyn had discussed your sex lives at length, so you were aware of her kinks, but knowing and hearing were two different things, and she was really making you wonder if there was some merit to her calling you and Javi ‘vanilla.’ Your husband had apparently heard enough and took your hand once more to lead you back outside.

From how tense his body was and the way he practically stormed out of the house with you in tow, you could tell your husband was pretty ticked off. He only stopped when you were in front of Daphne and Velma’s small metal-fenced corral, where the two calves were let loose—they were lying down together and got up when they saw you two making your way over.

“Stay here,” Javi ordered. He let go of your hand, but you grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.

“Wait.” He looked at you, anger that you knew wasn’t directed at you etched on his face. “Where are you going?”

His features softened the longer he gazed at you. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, perching his palms on his tiny hips. “I’m sorry, mi amor—I’m just—” He looked around to make sure no one was nearby and quietly continued, “—really fucking horny—”

“You’ve got blue balls,” you interrupted.

He huffed in amusement, smiling a little. “Yeah, I’ve got blue balls, and I think I might go insane—”

“If we’re cockblocked again?”

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Yes. Three fucking times—three!” he harshly whispered, holding up three fingers for emphasis. “Over my dead fucking body will we be cockblocked a fourth time, so I’m getting us some goddamn privacy away from all of these people—I love them all, but I love you, my wife, more, and I’m dying to stick my dick in you. I need you to stay right here. That way, I’ll know where to find you after I get shit arranged.”

That sounded like he was ready to go.

Grabbing his left hand, you pulled his arm toward you and angled your head to read the silver Rolex watch on his wrist under the light of the string lights above. “It’s not even ten, babe. We’ll get so much shit from your family if we dip this early.” Your eyes met his. “They’ll be partying til two or three in the morning at minimum, and we’re gonna leave at 9:42?”

The fingers of his free hand pressed to his forehead, and he sighed again. “If you really wanna stay,” he grumbled, “we’ll stay and wait to leave closer to midnight.” His tone said that was the last thing he wanted to do, and you understood where he was coming from.

You reached to caress his cheek. “I’m fine with leaving, Javi,” you told him. “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t the horny talking, and you understand we are going to get absolutely roasted at tía María’s next Sunday if we leave right now.” Every Sunday after his family got out of church, they went to tía María’s for good food and to catch up on what happened over the week.

His hand lowered, and he looked at you with hopeful eyes. “Are you okay with getting teased at tía María’s next weekend if we leave right now?”

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Oh, yeah,” you replied, nodding. “I’m dealing with the lady equivalent of blue balls, and I’ll accept all of the teasing if it means you’re gonna fuck me very soon.”

Once again, it was adorable how his face lit up, and he giddily chuckled. “Christ, I love you so fucking much,” he said and framed your face with his palms, Javi leaning in to kiss you tenderly.

When his mouth left yours, he was still smiling, and he lifted your left hand, keeping his eyes on yours while he kissed the diamond on your engagement ring and then the smooth gold of your wedding band. “I’ll be back,” he told you, and didn’t let go of your fingers as he started heading toward the tent, your arm extending all the way before his hand and himself slipped away from you.

If you had to guess, Javi wanted you to stay in this spot so your bovine daughters could keep you company, which they were, the girls sticking their snouts between the corral’s bars for you to pet their heads. What your husband failed to think about was your location meant that, when Robyn and Seb came out of the house a few minutes after he left, you had no choice but to talk to them. For you, it was awkward pretending like you didn’t hear them fucking as you tried to convince your best friend to go enjoy the party with her boyfriend instead of staying with you while Javi was gone. Luckily, Sebastián was able to lure her away with promises of drinks and dancing.

The remaining minutes you waited for your husband’s return were spent with the two calves. You scritched behind their ears, and they licked your arms as you told them how much you loved them and their dad and shared your excitement over them eventually becoming older sisters to a human sibling.

Chucho had gifted you and Javi enough land for the home you were building that Daphne and Velma could live with you—a barn would be built, and you’d have a couple of pastures for the girls to roam. There was room for the garden you always dreamed of, a greenhouse, and even a chicken coop; your husband also planned on buying you a horse. Living out in the country was never something you imagined in your wildest dreams, yet now it seemed perfect for your life with Javier.

When your husband found you, he held up what you knew was the key to his father’s prized ‘68 Ford Mustang, and he had to be excited, even if you couldn’t tell from his expression. In the over thirty years Chucho had owned the car, Javi had never been allowed to drive it—Chucho let you drive it, though, many times, which your husband was extremely jealous about. His dad made him a deal that when he married you, he could finally get behind the wheel, and you’d been waiting all night for Chucho to hand over the keys.

Javi walked over to the fence to address the two calves in the sweet voice he saved for them, scratching each of the girls under their chins, “Lo siento, mis preciosas, pero necesito robar a tu mamá (I’m sorry, my lovelies, but I need to steal your mom). Me ha estado volviendo loco toda la noche, y es hora de que la lleve a casa y la vuelva loca (She’s been driving me crazy all night, and it’s time for me to take her home and drive her crazy) Las amamos y las veremos en un par de días (We love you and we will see you in a couple of days).”

The moment he finished speaking, he looked at you with a smile on his handsome face.

“Sorry it took me so long,” he said. “Pop gave me a long-ass lecture about the car and made me promise to be careful with it. He was acting like he wasn’t the one who taught me how to drive around the ranch when I was ten years old in the old work truck.”

“Of course he lectured you. The Mustang is his baby.”

His eyes darted away, sticking his hands in his pockets. “That he always lets you drive,” he mumbled.

See, extremely jealous. It made you giggle.

“You need some peanut butter with that jelly, Mr. Peña?”

His attention came back to you, and this time, he was frowning.

“No.” He shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, baby. You know it bothers me how easily he hands over the keys to you, but I only get to drive it this once. Or at least not again until we have a kid.”

Chucho would definitely let Javi drive the Mustang again if you had a child.

“Did he tell you where you could and couldn’t take it?” you asked.

His eyebrows creased. “No… He had a lot of rules about the type of terrain I could drive it on, but as long as I bring it back tomorrow with a full tank, I can drive you anywhere.”

Stepping forward into his space, you rested your palms against his chest, his arm automatically pulling you closer. “He trusts you more than me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I am only allowed to drive it if he’s in the car with me, and I can only go where he tells me to. He trusts you enough to let you borrow the Mustang and go wherever you want without him present—he trusts you more. Now, Mr. Peña, how about we make a quick pit stop at the bathroom to wash up, then we blow this popsicle stand so I can blow your popsicle on the drive home?” You wagged your eyebrows, Javi chuckling.

“You can blow my popsicle later, but yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here, Mrs. Peña.”

With it being winter in southern Texas, the temperatures had cooled, but at this time of night, a coat wasn’t required when one went outdoors. Javier still kept the top up on the Mustang and turned on the heater to keep his wife warm since all she was wearing was that cute little dress that he hiked up enough to grip her bare thigh as they drove.

Cielito was confused when they pulled out of his dad’s driveway and started heading in the opposite direction of town. She figured he’d take her straight home, and Javier thought her faith in him to hold out another thirty-plus minutes to drive them to their accommodations for the night was sweet. He, however, could not wait any longer and took them fifteen minutes up the road and through a gate that he had to get out and open, to the field they usually parked his pickup in to stargaze—driving off-road was on his father’s list of terrain he was not supposed to take the Mustang on, but this was a desperate time that required desperate measures, and what his father didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him.

Javier was going slow over the uneven ground, his eyes scanning everything in the path of the headlights for any animals—thankfully, this time of year, a lot of the creatures considered dangerous were hibernating or in a state close to hibernating, and his family, who worked on the ranch, did a good job of keeping predators off his dad’s land. He was still double-checking to ensure his wife was safe, even if he wasn’t worried about them running into anything.

“Javi?” She squeezed his hand on her thigh.

“Yes, mi amor?”

“I know I said stargazing was a very effective form of foreplay, but with how horny I am, all I need is a little bit of kissing and I’m good to go—there’s no need for you to woo me with your knowledge of the stars.”

“We’re not stargazing,” he replied, bringing the car to a stop and putting it into park. He looked over at her face, which was slightly illuminated by the Mustang’s lights in front of them, and smiled. “A little bit of kissing for me and I’ll be good to go, too.” He turned in his seat toward her, taking her chin between his index finger and thumb to gently pull her forward, and he met her halfway, his lips crashing into hers.

One kiss and the dam broke, all of their pent-up need for the other flooding their systems, his wife growling when she deepened it, sliding her tongue against his. Blood rushed to his groin, and Javier moaned when her hand pressed to the front of his pants to stroke over his thickening cock. Her tongue in his mouth, her palm between his legs, the scent of her perfume—she was driving him crazy, and he wanted her to feel the same; he got his hand under her dress, ghosting his fingers along her inner thigh to the heat at her center. His fingertips felt her arousal seeping through her panties, and he groaned at the fact she was ready to go. All he’d have to do was push aside the fabric, and he could slide right in—and he did just that with his fingers, moving the lace out of the way to press his middle and ring fingers into her sopping pussy, soaking his gold wedding band in her juices. He swallowed her shuddering moan, his crooked digits easily pumping in and out of her.

When he decided to bring her out here, he had a plan: he was going to sit her on the hood of the car and finally eat her out, then he would’ve fucked her on it. His plan changed when he felt how wet she was for him, and now all he wanted, no, needed, was to get his dick inside her.

He removed his fingers, Cielito chasing his lips when he pulled away, turning his attention to the steering wheel and the controls beside it. Squinting his eyes, he tried to find what he was looking for in the dark and pressed a button that made the roof begin to open.

“Thank fuck,” he whispered under his breath. In the time it took to get the top down, Javier undid his seatbelt, pushed his seat back as far as it would go, and reclined it all the way to have it almost flat. He didn’t have to say a word when he gently tugged her arm; there wasn’t a center console between the seats, just a low column, so it was easy for her to unbuckle and crawl over into his lap while he laid down.

Arousal was simmering in his gut and threatening to boil over. It didn’t help when she lifted his left hand and leaned down to suck his ring finger into her mouth—she hummed appreciatively at tasting herself, the sensation of her sucking his digit causing his cock to twitch, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Turns you on that I’m wearing the ring,” he rasped. “You love that people can see I’m yours.”

She came off of him, raising her head with a smile. “Yes,” she answered. “It’s so fucking sexy—now, it’s time to get that pretty dick out so I can sit on it.”

He smiled at her impatiently opening his pants, getting his belt unbuckled and undone, then popping open the button and pulling down the zipper. She rose, and so did his hips, Javier shoving his slacks and boxer briefs down enough to free his throbbing length and sat once more.

She was looking down. “The prettiest dick,” she said, and he watched her lick her palm, his mouth falling open as she took him in hand, giving him a couple of strokes. Christ, he could feel the metal of her rings and was so worked up that just her touch had him close to coming. Sweat was forming on his forehead as he tried to focus on his breathing and not blow his load all over her fingers. “If you come immediately,” she started, her other hand moving her underwear out of the way for her to notch him at her entrance. Javier swallowed hard and grabbed the meat of her thighs for something to hold onto. “It’s totally okay,” she continued. “I know you’ll make it up to me later.”

She meant what she said, and he appreciated her understanding, but he really wanted her to come first, and he was going to try his hardest to make that happen.

Cielito didn’t give him a chance to respond before she was sliding, agonizingly slow, down his shaft, her hot, tight walls enveloping him, taking him inch by inch. He couldn’t help the pained sound he made or how his back arched, his fingers digging into her soft skin. She had her palms on his chest for leverage, her eyes fluttering closed, her head thrown back as she let out a long, drawn-out moan that lasted until she met his thighs, and he was buried to the root in her.

“Nothing feels better than you inside me,” her words were breathy.

Javier was fighting for his life—a fire was blazing in his belly, and he was balancing on a razor’s edge to not fall over and come immediately. He gripped the soft curves of her hips to hold her flush against him because he didn’t know how much friction he could handle.

His breaths were coming out heavier, and he gulped, telling her through clenched teeth, “Don’t move.”

She looked at him, the soft glow of the stars high above allowing him to make out her features, and her expression said she was delighted he was so close. He was pretty sure she was the only woman on the planet who took it as a compliment when a man came way sooner than he intended.

“I said it’s okay if you come.” She wiggled, and Javier hissed. He used more strength to keep her completely still.

“I’m not coming before you.”

The Mustang was a little cramped, and in order for her to fit on top of him, she had to strategically place her knees on things that weren’t the seat, like the low column that the gear shift was in and a ledge on the door used for an armrest.

“You are a stubborn man, Javier Peña,” she said.

“I’ll show you how stubborn I am,” he replied, and she squeaked in surprise when he pulled her forward to kiss him. His hand went to her back, unzipping her dress, and she understood what he wanted, getting her arms out of the straps while he undid her strapless bra that fell into the dress’ bodice.

Javier had her sit up again, and he stared at her above him, thinking how gorgeous she looked; she was always stunning, and he thought she was even more beautiful now that she was his wife—he couldn’t believe she had married him. He got to fuck this perfect woman for the rest of his life, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world. He was hard inside her and pulsating, the muscles in his stomach clenched tight with all of his effort being put into not coming.

“Stay still,” he ordered.

“Yes, Papí,” she sweetly replied. Her answer made him groan, his cock jerking.

“Don’t,” he said and smacked her ass, which only made her giggle. Javier licked the pad of his thumb, then pressed it to her clit, and he loved how her breath hitched. “I’m gonna make you come,” he stated, circling the bundle of nerves. She tightened around him, and he grit his teeth, clearing his throat before he spoke again, his voice low, “I’m gonna make you come,” he repeated. “Then I’m going to fuck you, and we both know I won’t be able to last long, and that’s fine.” It was getting wetter where they were joined, her arousal dripping down to coat his balls. “Because after this—” His other hand reached to fondle her breast, her eyes squeezing shut when he rolled her nipple between his fingers. “—I’m taking you to the hotel I rented us a room at.”

“Javi,” she gasped and looked at him.

He smiled, speeding up the pace of his thumb. “I plan on fucking all night, and I don’t want to be interrupted by Mrs. Hernandez banging on the wall because we’re being too loud—so, a hotel room—La Posada downtown.” It was the nicest hotel in Laredo and much better than the Motel 6 off the highway. “The Presidential suite, top floor. I’m gonna fuck you in the king-size bed, I’m gonna fuck you in the whirlpool tub, I’m gonna fuck you in the two-person shower, I’m gonna fuck you out on the balcony overlooking the Rio Grande, I’m gonna fuck you on every single surface in that room over the next two nights.”

Her eyes widened. “Two nights?”

“Yes. For everything I wanna do, one isn’t enough, and the first thing I’m doing when we get there is throwing your ass onto the bed and eating you out—my come and all—for an hour.”

Her head fell back as she moaned.

His fingers continued pinching and rolling her stiff nipple. Her inner walls were fluttering, and he knew she was close with how she was unable to keep quiet, the soft sounds spilling from her lips and going straight to his cock.

“Are you gonna come for me?” he asked. “Are you gonna come for your husband? Once you go, I’m going to come deep inside your perfect pussy, and I’m going to keep you stuffed full of me—if you aren’t already pregnant, you will be.”

Shit, that last bit almost got him. Javier’s jaw was clenched, his heart beating a mile a minute.

It didn’t take much more to have her falling over the edge—her entire body seized up, her cunt choking his dick, as she shattered with a cry of his name.

“Fuck,” he panted. She was spasming around him, and the moment she went lax, he grabbed her ass, lifting her enough to thrust up into her. His feet were planted on the floorboard, and he started fucking into her rapidly, grunting with each stroke.

She fell forward and began mouthing at his neck.

“Oh, fuck,” he whined, closing his eyes.

After getting worked up so many times tonight and now being able to give in, he was hitting the point where he couldn’t stop himself from coming in record time even if he wanted to. It felt like his heart would beat out of his chest, and his wife was now nibbling on his earlobe, which wasn’t fair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, pleasure welling up inside him.

The muscles in his belly were winding tight, the fire now an inferno that would explode at any second.

Her lips pressed to his ear. “Come for me,” she whispered. “Come inside your wife. Put a baby in me.”

She was a siren, and he was a sailor at the mercy of her call—his balls tightened up, and he pulled her ass down, sheathing himself to the hilt inside her, coming with a guttural groan. His dick jerked and pulsed with spurts of his spend gushing into her inner depths, euphoria taking over his entire being. Everything went quiet, his mind going blissfully blank and his body relaxing.

The air was cool against your skin, yet you were warm, wrapped in Javi’s arms as you laid atop him, your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. Here in the afterglow was when time ceased, and it felt as though you were the only two people in existence. Your body was all nice and relaxed; the need to get off had finally subsided… for now.

Learning that your husband booked you the Presidential suite at the fancy, old historic hotel downtown and the promises he made of all of the places in it he planned to fuck you already had arousal stirring low in your gut.

Javi’s breaths had evened out, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, and though he wasn’t snoring, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was asleep right now with how hard he came. The Mustang was still running, a low rumble amongst the peace of a Texas winter’s night.

Rustling in the grass outside the car had your ears perking, and suddenly, your husband was bolting upright with you on top of him. Your back slammed into the steering wheel, the blaring honk of the horn causing you to scream. Javi quickly got something out of the glove compartment before he pushed you to the side and down across the center column, the man wheezing when you accidentally kneed him in the dick. You were lying halfway on the passenger seat with your hands covering your head since you had no idea what the danger was while your heart pounded.

Seconds later, a large palm pressed to your naked back, Javi’s voice a little higher than usual, “We’re safe.” He cleared his throat and spoke in a deeper tone, “Just a fucking armadillo—are you okay?”

“Please tell me you scared the shit out of me and got hit in the dick for a giant, rabid, man-eating armadillo.”

He huffed out a breath. “No, it’s a regular one, and from the looks of it, we scared the shit out of it—it rolled up into a ball.”

That was something you wanted to see. You awkwardly crawled to get all the way into your seat beside him, seeing out the windshield in the light of the headlights that there was an armadillo rolled up into a ball.

“Worth getting kneed in the groin?” you asked.

“Nothing is worth getting kneed in the dick.”

His answer made you snort. You needed to clean up the mess between your legs and remembered the little pack of tissues Chucho kept in the pocket of the driver’s side door. You looked over at Javi. “Can you pass me the—why the fuck are you holding a gun?!” you exclaimed, your eyes going wide. In his hand was some kind of revolver he was pointing up at the sky.

His expression showed his confusion. “To protect us..?”

That was obvious. You asked what you actually meant. “Where did you get the gun?”

The look on his face didn’t change. “The glove box…?” He nodded toward it. In front of you, it was still open. There wasn’t much in there, just an envelope with papers stuffed in it and a box of bullets that you assumed went with the revolver.

Shoving your face in your hands, your voice was muffled when you spoke, “Why does your dad have a gun in his car?”

Javi let out a long sigh and put his free hand on your back to rub soothing circles. “Baby,” he began gently, “we live in Texas—Pop lives out in the middle of fucking nowhere Texas. There are coyotes out here, mountain lions, bobcats, snakes—” You could hear him cringe with the last one; he wasn’t a fan of the reptiles. “—we have to carry around guns for our safety. You really think I take you out on Pop’s land without protection?”

“With your aversion to condoms, I figured you like to live dangerously.”

He huffed in amusement again. “You are the only woman I have an aversion to condoms with. In the past, I always wrapped it up because I didn’t like to take risks.”

That had you turning your head to meet his eyes. “Why me?”

“Why you, what?”

“Why were you willing to take the risk with me?”

He crookedly smiled, his hand moving to hold your cheek. “Because I trusted you. Two dates and you managed to gain my trust and steal my heart—you had me head over heels.“ Javi leaned, softly grunting as he put the gun back into the glove compartment and shut it. He kept talking, “I want you to know I’ve always been aware birth control isn’t 100% effective—“ His attention went to his door to grab the tissues that he handed to you, and you took. “—and when it crossed my mind that I could accidentally knock you up, I didn’t feel dread at the idea of raising a kid with you. It wasn’t like how I felt with—”

“She-who-must-not-be-named on our wedding day,” you interjected, not wanting to mention his ex Lorraine.

“I won’t—you know who I’m talking about. I didn’t feel dread when I thought about having a kid with you. I mostly just worried if it happened, you’d find out about my past and wouldn’t want me in your or our child’s life.”

That was utterly heartbreaking. “I’d never keep your kid from you or kick you out of my life.”

He was softly smiling. “I know that now, but you remember how fucked up my head was before I told you about Colombia.”

That was true. He believed you would leave him when you discovered what happened during his time with the DEA.

“It fucking kills me when I remember how hard you were on yourself.” You dropped the tissues into your lap and took one of his hands into both of yours. “I’m happy you’re better now, and guess what?”

“What?”

You grinned. “We’re married, and I’m going to have all of your babies—all of them, every single one, and I really can’t wait to see you become a dad, ‘cause you’re gonna be amazing, and our children will be so loved.”

His eyes were misting, and his smile matched yours. He freed his hand from yours to caress your face in his palms and kissed you. With how hard his lips pressed to yours, you could feel his love, his devotion, his happiness. This truly was the best day of his life, and it made you beyond happy to share it with him.

Your stomach growled, and Javi pulled back to look at you. “Are you hungry?”

When he brought you the plate of food earlier, you only tried a little bit of everything, and you didn’t fill up because you were nervous about the dances. Now that all of that was done, the hunger was catching up to you.

“Yes, can we stop by McDonald’s or something for a quick bite on our way to the hotel?”

“No,” he replied, and you frowned. “I had Steve and Connie take a bag of leftovers that tía María put together for us back to our hotel room because I knew you wouldn’t eat enough at dinner—I figured it’d be nerves.” He shrugged. “And yes, there’s a big ass slice of cake,” reading your mind as always.

The Murphy family was staying at the same hotel and hopefully on a very different floor than your room.

His response had you smiling big. “Not even twenty-four hours married, Mr. Peña, and you’re already husband of the year.”

He smiled and leaned in, pecking you on the lips. “Good,” he said and nudged the tip of his nose against yours. “I gotta make sure I keep my title as the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk.”

You bursted into laughter, and he joined.

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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago

Text

Robin’s always had a soft spot for Eddie Munson, but up until recently it had been in a distant kind of way; she appreciated his class clown act, the way it had a domino effect of keeping the heat off the band kids, how he hogged the spotlight for any passing douchebag’s attention.

But then they both literally dive into The Upside Down, and her appreciation reaches a whole new level.

They’re in the Wheeler’s garage, thanking their lucky stars that four bikes exist in 1983 (and yeah, Robin’s sure that if she thinks about the whole time thing for half a second more her brain will promptly melt, so she doesn’t).

Each of them are pushing their chosen bike down the driveway, in a dazed sort of silence—the high of the Lite-Brite worn off in the face of another grim journey through The Upside Down.

Steve is flagging, Robin can hear it: his breathing’s growing laboured as he walks, an occasional unsteadiness to him that’s setting her anxiety off all over again, because what if they were wrong, what if it’s really rabies, and it’s too late, it’s coursing through his veins, and he’s—they’re gonna lose him—

“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie says, swinging a leg over his saddle, “wanna race?”

“… Hmm? Sorry, what?” Steve says.

There’s not even that long of a delay in him speaking, but the pause still has Robin’s heart in her throat.

Eddie’s got one foot on a pedal now, ready to set off. He looks back at them with a shaky grin—like he’s terrified, but he’s still gonna have some fun anyway.

“I’m throwing down the gauntlet, King Steve. Bet I’ll be faster than you.”

Steve scoffs, stands up a little straighter before he mirrors Eddie, balancing on the bike with one foot on the pedal.

“How much are we betting?”

Eddie huffs. “Oh, no money involved,” he says nonchalantly. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “This is just for the glory.”

And God, there’s that spark back in Steve’s eyes; it’s like Robin can physically see his competitive streak giving him strength.

Eddie Munson, you beautiful soul, she thinks, I could kiss you.

“Faster than me? Yeah, maybe in your dreams, Munson,” Steve says.

But Eddie’s already speeding off with a comical whoop; Steve curses as he hurriedly tries to catch up, yelling, “You dick, that’s cheating!”

“Not in my rulebook!” Eddie says with a cackle.

And for a little while, that’s enough to put Robin’s mind at ease: watching the pair of them taunt each other like kids—hearing Nancy laugh at the spectacle as she bikes alongside her.

But then she falls through the Gate, Eddie close behind her, and they freeze when Steve screams Nancy’s name with such fear.

Robin’s plunged back into a mind-numbing panic; she’s sure that her heart doesn’t even begin to slow until they’ve left the trailer park, until Steve’s control of the RV switches from ‘holy shit, we’re on the run, what have our lives become?’ to something more normal—the reliable, measured driving she’s familiar with, taking her to and from school or work.

Finally, she has time to, um… take stock. Of… things.

She wobbles her way over to Eddie, grabbing onto his elbow as Steve takes a turning.

Eddie instantly holds her up, a steadying hand around her waist. “Oh, hi. I’ve gotcha—” “Your music isn’t actually shit,” Robin says in one breath. “I know, um, on balance, it’s probably not the worst thing I could’ve said, but the delivery was—but, you know, considering I thought Nance was literally about to die, I’d say it was, like, kinda calm all things considered, but—”

Eddie’s chuckling. “Yeah, on balance,” he echoes teasingly, “you were pretty damn funny, actually. Uh, sorry for. Um. Screaming at you? Basically?”

“Basically,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, you were like impressively loud. Not quite eardrum-rupturing level, but y’know, I don’t actually know anyone who’s really had that happen to them; Amanda Wallis said she ruptured hers at the pep rally ‘cause she was standing too close to us—the band, I mean, but—”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, that’s bull, there’s no way that’d be loud enough to—”

“—I think she just had a grudge ‘cause David C on mellophone got literally the tiniest bit of spit on her, and he was only—”

“Yeah, well, everyone knows you sit in the splash zone at your own risk.”

“Exactly! She’s had plenty of time to learn marching band protocol.”

“Uh-huh, protocol,” Eddie echoes again, with a giggle.

He’s got a nice kind of laugh, Robin thinks: one where she’s never in doubt that he’s laughing with her rather than at her.

“That stuff you do’s pretty cool,” he says; with his free hand, he actually imitates her mime of playing a trumpet. “You must have good, uh…” She can see the exact moment that he’s having second thoughts about saying it, but he forges ahead anyway, with a hilariously uncertain, “Good… lungs?”

“Fascinating attempt at a compliment,” Robin says. “Luckily for you, I accept insults as, like, equal tokens of friendship.”

Eddie does a double take. He doesn’t go so far as letting out a questioning, “We’re friends?”, but he might as well have said it anyway: his eyes widen for a moment, like someone who’s just been unexpectedly asked out to prom.

Steve takes another turning; he does it smoothly enough, but even he can’t stop the RV from moving with it, and Robin stumbles again, very nearly ends up repeating how she toppled right onto Eddie in The Upside Down.

“Woah there, you’re good,” Eddie says, “just gotta find your, uh, what’s it called? Your equilibrium.”

“I don’t have any,” Robin says, all theatrical devastation, and Eddie snorts.

“Sure you do, Buckley. Look, just take my—yeah, that’s it, then just kinda straighten up… yeah, you’ve got it.”

And yes, after a minute or so, Robin’s footing does feel more certain, but she still keeps a stubborn grip on Eddie’s elbow, just in case.

“God, d’you know what I’m gonna do when all this is over?” Eddie says.

“Pray tell.”

“I’m gonna make a list. What was it you said, Madonna, Blondie…? Whatever, I’m getting all of them, m’never getting caught out like that again.”

“I’m hoping that needing music to evade the clutches of a serial killer from an alternate dimension is, um, strictly a one-time thing.”

“Don’t care,” Eddie says. “Still buying those tapes. Just in case.”

And yeah, it’s said partly in jest, but Robin can hear that he means it. Still, it’s the most optimistic that she’s heard him be so far: making plans for after, like he can really see a way through this. Like maybe he finally knows that they’ll help him get there.

“Need a list of tapes from you too, Buckley. You and Harrington.”

Robin smiles. Her first thought is of singing Total Eclipse of the Heart from the dirt-ridden floor of a mall bathroom, but then she thinks of every car ride with Steve, every time they’ve turned up the radio to belt along, and she knows that there are way too many songs to count.

“Forget a list,” Robin says, “I could fill a book. Same for big boy over there.”

Eddie blinks, like he’s suddenly taking stock, too. “Oh yeah,” he says, laughing lightly, “I did say that, huh?”

“Sure did. I was doubting my ears, too.”

Robin had been hoping they’d long since reached the point of being able to joke around with one another. But while Eddie does laugh again, he also starts biting at his thumbnail, glancing over at Steve in the driver’s seat.

“Um, hey.” Robin manages to keep her balance, briefly pressing her knee against his leg. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Eddie.”

“No, I know.” Eddie huffs self-effacingly. “I’ve kinda got permanent foot-in-mouth disease, my report cards would tell you that.”

Well, if he wants to pass it off as sometimes I just say the darnedest things, Robin would be a hypocrite to deny him.

It fascinates her in a sad sort of way though, how he veers between joking and nervousness—like he’s worried he’s intruding on their group, of overstepping somehow.

She wants to tell him: Look, we all got dragged into this, but we chose to stick around, and you’re no different.

But she no longer has the aftermath of Russian drugs to help bypass her own nerves, to kickstart her sincerity.

“Hey, you’re awfully quiet back there,” Steve calls, and Eddie startles.

Robin shakes her head. “Not us, that’s his—”

“Hello? Henderson, I’m talking to you.”

“We’re not even doing anything!” Dustin shouts back in exaggerated affront.

He’s sat on the backseat of the RV, peering out the window along with Lucas, Erica and Max. Robin stifles a chuckle at the sight; they look like they’re on a field trip—the cool kids at the back of the bus.

“Yeah, well, just checking,” Steve says, amused. “For all I know, you coulda been building a gigantic radio again on, like, the roof of this thing.”

“Cerebro,” Dustin says, just as Eddie lets out a baffled, “Uh, again?”

But then they’re pulling into The War Zone’s parking lot, and any chatter abruptly dies.

Afterwards, Steve gets off the road to park in a reassuringly deserted field. They don’t head outside right away (Robin’s not exactly looking forward to prepping Molotov cocktails), instead staying in the RV to eat junk food they’d grabbed beforehand.

Robin discovers that Dustin’s somehow bought five more cans of Pringles and snorts, declaring, “You’ve got a problem.”

At some point, Steve tries to sneak off to the bathroom so he can change his dressings—“And use actual proper bandages!” Robin calls to him; no offence to Nancy’s resourcefulness, but the torn shirt strips only do so much good.

It becomes a more comical than horrifying event, although she’s sure that’s down to Steve deliberately making it so, like a sleight of hand trick: playing it down as he keeps talking to the kids throughout, never wincing even once.

He ends up having to keep the bathroom door open to continue an argument with Erica over which Scoops Ahoy sundae was the best of all time—then figures that he might as well just step out into the open anyway.

At least the wounds have stopped bleeding—although the sight of Steve cleaning around them with bottled water is one that Robin could personally do without.

The kids are entirely unfazed. They flock to Steve, peering at the glimpses he lets them see like he’s just got a cool tattoo. Robin supposes that after El and whatever nightmare wormy thing was in her leg, they’ve seen everything.

Eddie, however, is another matter. He keeps quiet about it, not obvious at all, but Robin watches his face grow paler and paler before Steve wraps the new bandages around his stomach.

Dustin, bless his precocious little heart, must also notice, because he quickly starts up a seemingly impromptu game of charades, meaning that Eddie is soon distracted by his ridiculously over the top gestures.

“No, Steve, how are you not getting this?”

“I thought the whole appeal of this game was that you’re not meant to talk, Henderson. Dude, watch it, you nearly took Max’s eye out with… whatever the hell that was.”

“Oh my god, it’s Back to the Future, obviously! Ow, Max, I didn’t mean to—uh, yeah, the mime needs to be that big, how else am I gonna project what—”

“Dustin, I swear to god, I’m about to project you out the window,” Steve drawls.

Eddie laughs, hides it behind his hand.

But Steve must catch it, because he glances over at Eddie and winks before he’s dragged back into guessing another movie title.

And Robin’s obviously seen Steve wink before—he does it all the time, so much so that she’s become quite adept at reading when it’s a friendly one for her, or if he’s sharing some kind of in-joke with one of the kids.

She’s also seen his attempts at a ‘smooth’ wink towards some girls at work—and look, he’s Steve Harrington, it’s not like he’s going to be bad at it.

But if you ask Robin, it’s never looked quite right, like he’s always performing to an audience he’s unsure of.

But this wink doesn’t look like it belongs to either of those categories. Well, it’s got something in common with the first: that it looks entirely natural, as if he’s doing it almost without thinking. Like it just feels right.

They go through some more rounds of charades—Dustin’s gestures, if possible, getting even more dramatic—and Eddie gradually goes from contributing a few guesses to none at all, curling up on the backseat. He looks utterly wiped out.

Robin tries to catch Nancy’s eye, and after a few attempts, she gets the message, stands up with a nod.

“Okay, let’s take this outside, guys.”

“Spoken like a true camp counsellor,” Max says.

Nancy acts like she’s offended, but her lips keep twitching into a smile. “Max, never say that to me again.”

“There’s more space outside,” Erica says, “so we can duck out the way of Dustin’s windmilling arms.”

“Hey!”

“I’m bored of charades,” Lucas says. “We could do another competition? Like, I dunno, cartwheels or handstands or something?”

“Oh sure, so I can show you up?” Max returns, grinning.

Steve scoffs. “Uh, if you’re doing a cartwheel competition, I would win.”

“Since when?” Dustin says, an obvious taunt that Steve predictably rises to, flipping him off.

“Save your athletics for Vecna, please,” Nancy cuts in dryly.

“It wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Lucas gestures to Steve’s stomach, a little uncertainly. “You know, considering…”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Under normal circumstances, I would kick all your asses.”

“Sure,” Robin says brightly, “but Steve, if you do literally anything more strenuous than sitting down right now, I’m gonna—”

“Uh, Steve would kick your asses, actually,” Eddie says slowly. His voice is muffled from the way his hand’s holding up his chin, partly covering his mouth. “He did gymnastics.”

Robin, surprised, looks to Steve; he’s doing that thing where he scratches at his cheek unconsciously, seems to be a mixture of embarrassed and pleased.

“How’d you know that?” he asks.

Eddie shrugs. “We didn’t have a cover for gym one time, remember? There was a whole group of us slacking off but you just kept doing, y’know,” he twirls his fingers, “tricks on that box thingy.”

“Vaulting box,” Steve corrects like he can’t stop himself. He’s sporting an almost abashed little smile that Robin’s never seen before.

Eddie shrugs again. “S’all Greek to me,” he says, interrupts himself halfway through with a deep yawn.

Steve’s eyes soften. And then he’s ushering the kids outside, “C’mon, you can do whatever competition you want for thirty minutes before we get to work.”

“Got it, coach.”

“Shut up, Mayfield.”

“I’ll be your stopwatch if you’re doing handstands,” Nancy chips in, bringing up the rear—she catches Robin’s eye again, subtly tilts her head in Eddie’s direction and mouths Stay?

Robin nods.

“Uh, that won’t be accurate at all,” comes Dustin’s rebuttal—he’s outside now, but his voice still carries. “Unless you can like accurately keep time in your head down to the second—”

“Oh my god, Dustin, you’re such a shithead.”

“Nancy Wheeler, I’m heartbroken.”

Steve’s chuckle floats through the open door. “She said it, dude, not me.”

“You say it all the goddamn time!”

And then the voices fade away until all Robin can hear is distant laughs and joyful screams. It’s relaxing, in its own way.

“No gymnastics for you, Buckley?” Eddie says.

“Nope, not since 7th grade. Managed two cartwheels before I broke my wrist.”

Eddie winces in sympathy. He’s slumping a bit more; Robin makes herself comfy in the opposite corner of the backseat, gives him the most space.

She feels a weird lump at her back, behind one of the cushions. A quick investigation reveals an issue of TV Guide Magazine.

“Ooh, we can find out what we missed while on the run,” she says, waggling it in front of Eddie.

He smiles with a small huff. “Doubt it. Says 1981 on the front.”

“What’s a little more time travel?”

Robin flicks through to the crossword. She’s all too aware that Eddie’s still sat more stiffly than anything else. With Steve, it would be so easy; she could prod him in the thigh with her toe, light touches until he took the hint and relaxed.

But even before they’d really become friends, they were tactile: a tap on the shoulder to grab attention, bumping hips to move each other out of the way whenever they were scooping ice-cream at the same time. It’d been done so unconsciously, like they were already learning to read each other’s minds.

With Eddie, it’s clear that a different approach is needed.

Robin had caught onto that after her misstep at the boathouse, a pit in her stomach at the sight of Eddie’s hands shaking.

But her instinct to reach out, to soothe, made her unthinkingly try again; as they walked in the woods, she’d heard his breathing quicken, and her hand lightly brushed his back. She drew back as he instantly flinched at her touch.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said hurriedly. “Just—just checking you were okay. Sorry.”

Eddie just stared at her before nodding hesitantly.

And Robin wanted to tell him that it wasn’t by chance, that he had people who cared about him; that she did, and it wasn’t a fluke or an accident—she was choosing it.

She keeps her eyes on the magazine, jots down a few crossword answers. It reminds her of summer days spent reading on her grandparents’ porch, not wanting to startle a cat her grandpa had rescued as it approached her. It was always so spooked.

“You’ve just gotta let him come to you, sweet pea,” her grandma would say.

After a couple minutes, she hears Eddie breathe out, the creak of the seat as he lies down. He rests his head right next to her thigh.

“S’good?” he asks, pointing at the magazine.

“It’s pretty easy.” One of the crossword clues is ‘The Lion, the Witch, and the?’ which isn’t exactly taxing. “I’m used to doing the cryptic ones.”

Eddie laughs. He kinda sounds fond. “Of course you are.”

“They’re not that hard, once you know how to read ‘em.”

“Hmm, I doubt that. Lay one on me, Buckley.”

She purses her lips in thought. “Oh, I got this one last week. Condition of Wyoming, five letters.”

Eddie lifts his head ever so slightly to give her a blank look. “Not a fucking clue.”

“State. Get it? ‘Cause ‘condition’ is the definition, and Wyoming is literally—”

“God, I’m surrounded by geniuses.”

“Well, I’ve got the advantage of a summer of code-breaking.”

Robin slowly raises her hand as she speaks—makes sure to do it in Eddie’s line of vision, spots that he doesn’t pull back, that he even gives the tiniest half-nod. She pats his head twice.

Eddie scrunches up his nose. “Sorry, my hair’s gross.”

“It’s not that bad,” Robin says honestly. “Y’know for being on the run, it’s holding up pretty well. I’m getting whatever shampoo you use.”

Eddie smiles. “Sure.”

“Yours is looking way better than mine did after, like, one day getting wrapped up in all this.” Again, without really thinking, Robin adds, “I had all this sweat and blood and puke in it.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed now. He makes an unhappy sound, prods gently at her knee. “You’ve all gotta work on telling me horrific shit. That should not be casual for you, Buckley.”

He sounds emphatic—protective, even. Robin feels unexpectedly emotional.

“Yeah, sorry. Bad habit.”

Silence falls, and by the time Steve enters the RV, Robin has filled in the whole crossword, Eddie dozing by her side.

Steve’s getting another bottle of water—actually drinking it this time. He’s got grass stains on his knees, and he’s sweating slightly, like the ‘stay still’ advice hasn’t once been taken.

His eyes soften again when he sees Eddie sleeping—he doesn’t need to linger, but he does.

Robin watches.

We need more time, Steve, she thinks suddenly. For you to keep looking at him like that—for him to be awake to see it.

Steve tears his eyes away. Lands on her.

She smiles, mouthing What?

Steve rolls his eyes. He imitates her ‘what?’ mockingly, but then he smiles back and taps at his wrist, mimes winding a watch on. It’s what they do whenever they’re slammed at work, wanting to talk, but only able to briefly catch each other’s eyes in the rush. Later.

She taps her wrist. Later, she promises.

He gives her a double thumbs up—what a dork—before heading back outside.

Robin quietly puts the magazine away. Ever so carefully, she lightly strokes Eddie’s hair, feels her heart swell and break at the same time when he sighs contentedly in his sleep.

You’d better look after yourself, Eddie Munson, she thinks. You’ve got people here. People who really want you to stick around.

#on newly forming friendships and love ❤️#eddie and robin #robin buckley fic #eddie munson fic #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve and the party #steve and dustin #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve and robin #eddie and robin fic

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sweetbans29 · 9 months ago

Text

Hey You - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x reader

Summary: You and Caitlin have a history - from growing up together to dating in high school. You both decided that it would be best to end things before going to college and that's what you did. Little did you know that seeing each other nearly four years later would have you both admitting things should have been different.

Warnings: You are looking at some angst, some suggestive themes and some fluff, nothing too crazy ;) mentions of head injury

Word Count: 6.0k

Hey You PART 2

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Hi and welcome! This is my first writing and would love any feedback or ideas! I hope you enjoy!

You were sitting in the backseat of your friend's car rubbing your hands on your jeans. Your friend Jamie was driving you and two other friends to the women's NCAA basketball game in Cleveland. All of you attended a university in Pittsburgh and thought it would be a fun girls' day to go watch the championship game. It was going to be iconic and deep down, you knew you wouldn't miss it for the world. You had been following the teams closely this year despite the squeeze to your heart that came with seeing her name. Looking out the window you continue to rub your hands on your pants.

Your friends all knew Iowa was home for you and that you played basketball growing up. They knew you had friends who ended up playing college ball but an injury you suffered junior year of high school caused you to shift gears when it came to college. They also knew that you and Caitlin Clark had played high school ball together - but that was all they knew on the subject. They didn't know you had grown up together and had been best friends since the first day of sixth grade or that she held your heart in high school and may or may not hold it today.

As you look out the window your mind begins to wander back to when you were young...

It was the first day of sixth grade and your family had just moved to Des Moines, IA for your dad's job. Starting at a new school at the start of junior high was not ideal but you were determined to make the best of it. As you entered homeroom - you took a seat next to another girl who wasn't completely dolled up due to it being the first day. You didn't say anything as you sat down and pulled out a notebook that was completely covered in NBA stickers. The girl next to you perked up when she looked over and saw several familiar faces, even some of her favorites.

She leans over and points to one of the players and says, "That is one of my favorites." I look up at her with a huge smile and reply, "He is great but not as great as Kobe." She nods in agreement and we continue talking about other players who made their spotlight on your Fivestar notebook.

Fast forward to freshman year of high school - you and Caitlin are at pre-season training. Both of you had a single goal in mind which was making varsity. You knew she would make it no problem, but for you, it was going to take a little more. The two of you put in the work, when you weren't at training you were either at a park practicing or at her house training. When you found out you both made varsity after all those hours of hard work you went out to get froyo to celebrate. The night ended with a sleepover at yours that included a movie marathon and many many snacks.

When you snap back to being present with your friends, you realize you are already at the arena. You take a deep breath and get out of the car with your friends to brave the lines to enter the stadium. It was amazing to see the attention women's college basketball has gotten during March Madness this year. The spotlight on all the teams in the Sweet Sixteen, then the Elite Eight to the Final Four all leading to today had brought a lot of attention to the sport and the players. Not only the spotlight on the teams but the spotlight put on Caitlin was something that never really surprised you as you knew how incredible she was and is. Seeing how much she had blown up made you proud of the player she had become but also rattled the box you had put her in that lived in the deepest part of your heart. As you are standing in line to get in, your mind takes you back again...

It was the summer before junior year and your mom and dad just surprised you with your own car. You freaked out and couldn't stop thanking them. Of course, it was their pleasure as you were almost the perfect child. Caitlin was already on her way over as you had plans to go out to get food before having a lazy day. The two of you always worked hard but on the other side of that, you both had major lazy days throughout your friendship. These lazy days consisted of movie marathons, pillow forts, naps, and all the snacks you could ever imagine. The beginning of these days stemmed from making plans one day but you were both so tired you ended up napping on the floor in Caitlin's living room, never seeing the light of day.

Caitlin pulls in and you come running out pointing at the car in the driveway. She jumps out of her car and you both freak out and jump right in. After grabbing food you headed back to yours and settled into the pillow fort you had set up before she got there. You throw on Princess Diaries and you both are knocked out within the first 20 minutes.

When you feel yourself come back to consciousness, you notice the only light in the room is coming from the TV screen. You also felt extremely hot. As you begin to move you feel a squeeze around your torso. Looking down, a smile appears on your face as you realize Caitlin is cuddled into your side and hugging you as if you were a teddy bear. Your arm is draped around her back as her head is nestled into your neck. Her breath is steady - inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. It was slightly comedic as she has a solid few inches on you but when she was curled up into your side she looked like a little girl. You slowly start to rub her back and you hear her groan and bury herself deeper into you and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

This wasn't the first time that you both had ended up cuddling next to each other on a lazy day. It had become more common over the last few months than it had been before. You noticed it was typically Caitlin who ended up cuddled into your side but every blue moon you ended up in her arms. Once one of you woke up, you would usually break apart almost immediately - secretly both wishing it would last longer. It all felt so natural that neither of you questioned it. Due to how dedicated you both were to your sport neither of you really had time for boys or relationships so you both just leaned into each other.

You continue to rub her back until you feel her fingers play with the backside of your shirt - this is your signal that she is no longer asleep. Neither of you made a move to untangle yourselves from the other and that was when you knew that the feelings you were pushing down for your best friend might be reciprocated and that alone was enough to hold her even tighter.

Later that night you took your new car and went to get ice cream. You both sat there for hours talking and laughing. That night held your first kiss with Caitlin. It was in the parking lot of your local grocery store, a pint of ice cream in the center console. It was nothing crazy but as you drove back home with her hand in your hand, neither of you could wipe the smile off of your face.

You are brought back to reality when your friend nudged you for the tickets as you were next to get them scanned. While you didn't have to worry about the drive, you were tasked with getting the tickets. Grabbing your phone, you open up your tickets for the guy to scan. As you all pass through security at Rocket Mortgage Fieldhouse, you make your way to your seats before braving the sea of spectators to grab yourself some food and a drink (there was no way you were getting through this whole event without a drink by your side).

The usher directed you to where your seats were and you were insanely grateful that you were the one to choose where you all sat. You choose the same section you always supported Caitlin in your senior year of high school...

It was the championship game junior year of high school and you were in the starting lineup. The game was going to be a tough one but you had no doubt in your mind that it wasn't yours for the taking. Everything was perfect. You were already talking to a couple schools to play in college. Caitlin and you had been dating for a few months and you were going to ask her to be your girlfriend your next lazy day which so happened to be tomorrow. Everything seemed it was going your way.

The seconds were counting down in the second quarter and the score was 38-38. If there was one thing you knew, it was that you were not going into halftime tied. You were passed the ball as the seconds ticked away. The other team had just scored, which gave your team possession with just enough time to make something happen. As you made your way down the court you scoped out the scene in front of you. The other team was doing everything in their power to avoid yours from scoring.

Your first vision played out was getting the ball to Caitlin, knowing she could make it happen but the girl defending her was doing a damn good job of keeping her just out of reach. You then scanned to my other teammate Jada who you knew was great at getting the ball where it needed to go in the nick of time. As you were about to pass it her way you took one final look at the clock and realized that time was just about out. You made the decision to take it up the middle, faking the defender that was covering you and going for a quick layup on the left side. As your last foot left the ground, before you knew it you were back against the ground with a pulsing head and pain shooting everywhere.

You don't dare move, you have no idea what just happened. There is a ringing in both of your ears and your vision is blurry and the pain - the pain has your body shutting down to protect itself. Your eyes start to close slowly as you faintly feel someone grab your arm as someone appears in your sight. It takes you a second to realize it is Caitlin - you give a small smile. Then everything goes black.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. That is the first thing you hear as you start to regain consciousness. Confusion hits almost immediately as the last thing you remember is getting ready to play the championship game. You begin to wiggle your fingers and they feel sore, now that you start to feel more - everything is sore.

Before you decide to open your eyes you try to take a deep breath. Yet another thing that is painful to do. You decide you need to open your eyes to figure out where you are and what has happened. As your eyes open, it takes a few blinks to get a clear picture of what is in front of you. You are in the hospital, in a hospital bed. The sun is shining in through the window and you start to look around to see if you can find any clues as to what has happened. There are no casts or bandages that you can see but when you make a minor move in the bed it felt like you got hit by a truck.

Your mom was in the room reading a book. When you began to move, you let out a groan which caused her to look up and quickly make her way to your side. As she gets to your bedside, your dad makes his way through the doorway.

"Baby girl, oh baby girl," your mom begins as she gives you a hug which really only causes more pain to shoot around your body but you weren't going to push her away. Your dad comes and sits on your other side and takes hold of your hand.

"Hi sweetie," your dad says. You look up at him and with your eyes try and get him to explain what had happened, knowing your mom wasn't in a state to do so.

"You were taken out seconds before the halftime buzzer went off," he began. Your eyes lay intently on him. He takes a moment before continuing. "You were going for a layup to put your team ahead going into halftime and a girl from the other team misjudged your movement and body slammed you causing you to go head-first into the ground."

It then all started coming back to you, the pain that shot straight to your head and trying to not pass out. You let go of his hand and start to feel around your head. It had a wrap around it which you didn't even think about when you were making your first assessment of what had happened. Your dad continued.

"You were rushed to the hospital due to your ears bleeding and you not waking up. The doctors determined you had a skull fracture and took you to an emergency surgery. Everything went smoothly and you are recovering well," your father says with sad eyes. If there is anything you know about your dad it is that he shares your dream of going to a D1 school to play basketball in college. The way he was looking at you right now, you immediately knew that even though the surgery went well, everything you had hoped and dreamed about was all about to change.

You continued to listen to how your parents were so happy you were alive and okay and that you should make a full recovery - even though you knew deep down that it truly wouldn't be full. You had learned that it has been almost 2 days since the game. Your parents step out of the room to give you some time to rest - even though you couldn't look at a screen that just left you sitting there with life-changing news. You looked around to see if you could find your phone to text or call Caitlin when she made her way through the door.

She looks just as beat up as you feel. As she walks up to you, she avoids eye contact which you so desperately wanted. Without saying a word, she comes up to your bedside and slowly makes her way into the hospital bed with you. You lift your arm and allow her to curl up by your side. A deep breath finally escapes your body and as you exhale you can feel her body release silent sobs.

All you can do is rub her back. Lying there with her has jogged your memory that she was the last face you saw before you blacked out on the court. Knowing her, these past two days were probably a living hell. You muster up all the strength you have to lean down and kiss the top of her head.

Not many people knew about your relationship. It was really only family and your coaches. Being on the same team, you both decided it would be best to keep your relationship between the two of you. It was a challenge at times but everyone knew the two of you were best friends so there were a lot of things that you did that people wouldn't look twice at.

One thing about Caitlin was that certain things were enhanced when you two started dating. Most of the things didn't affect your day-to-day like the amount of sweatshirts she stole doubled (which didn't bother you as you would just steal hers to replace the ones she had taken, it got to the point where it started a playful argument over a sweatshirt that she swore was here but was actually originally yours). Another that affected her more than either of us really realized was how protective she had become.

You first realized this when you got fouled at practice and Caitlin got all up into her space yelling at her. You had to grab her and pull her away which then led your coach to call for everyone to do suicide sprints. You don't even want to think about the girl who fouled you in the game and caused you to be hospitalized.

"Hey you," you say as it had sort of become your way of saying 'hey babe' without the world knowing. You feel her shift in your arms as she brings her hand up to wipe away her tears.

"You scared me," is all she says before letting out a few more silent sobs. You continue to rub her back and give her shoulder a little squeeze.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," you respond with a laugh. The laugh hurts but decide to keep quite about your pain, only quiet to Caitlin, never your doctors.

The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon cuddled up on the hospital bed. When the sun starts to go down you tell Caitlin she should head home to get some rest. She protests, of course, but ultimately folds to your request. She comes over and gives you a quick peck which leaves you unsatisfied. You grab her hand and pull her back to give her a proper kiss. As your lips part you mumble a breathy 'I love you'. It was the first time it had been said between the two of you in a manner that wasn't referring to your friendship. The smile that spread across her face lifted your soul.

"I love you," she replies as she leans down pressing her lips against yours. "Well not I REALLY don't want to go," she says with a laugh.

"One night won't hurt anyone - also you need a shower," you say making a face to try and sell the fact that you just called your girlfriend smelly. She scoffs and waves you off.

Following getting out of the hospital, it was a hard reality to face that you weren't going to be able to play ball for a long while. The journey ahead was a long one and you couldn't be more thankful that Caitlin was right by your side.

Two of your friends were coming back with beers when you snapped back to where you were. It was just about time for the athletes to come out and begin their warm-ups. Your heart began to race as you heard the announcer call the teams out.

As both teams make their way onto the floor, your eyes scan for her. As much as you didn't want to, you couldn't help yourself. It took about a whole 5 seconds to find her. Your heart stops and it feels like time slows as you see her running out and making her way to warm up. The first thing you notice is how even after four years, she starts warming up from the same spot. She is on the opposite side of the court facing where you are sitting getting ready to start her pregame ritual. You then notice, how her upper body has filled out a little more as she has matured and increased her strength training. Her hair is in a neatly pulled-back pony with a headband to catch her flyaways. She was as cool as a cucumber.

There were so many things that amazed you about Caitlin but one of the biggest ones was how calm she was before a game. Especially a game like today.

She was completely mesmerizing. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that she was living her dream. You watched her as she continued to warm up and couldn't wait to cheer her on.

The seats you had chosen were right across from Iowa's bench. every game you watched your senior year of high school was from this exact location.

As the warm-ups come to an end and they are just about to announce the starting lineup, your heartbeat begins to quicken...

Going into senior year, your relationship with Caitlin was better than ever. It was a tough journey to come to face the fact that you weren't going to play ball your senior year but you put all that extra energy into loving and supporting Caitlin. You still went to practice and your coach sort of brought you on as an assistant coach. It was great still being a part of the team.

You decided to play the role of the supportive girlfriend during games rather than sitting on the bench with the other players and coaches. It wasn't that you couldn't sit on the bench, rather it came from knowing how competitive Caitlin gets. She didn't need another person telling her how things could have been different or better, she needed someone who was going to cheer her on no matter what and get her out of her head when she got tunnel vision. She was the hardest person on herself.

Before every game when they called her name in the lineup as starting point guard and she made her way down the line of girls she got to the end and pointed to you with a smile. Then at the end of every game, you would wait down the hall of the girls' locker room and greet her when the team got out of their post-game meeting. It became your guys' things.

You weren't expecting it. It didn't even occur to you but when they announce her name and she makes her way down the court and at the end of the line she points directly in your direction and smiles. Your heart stops and she stops in her tracks, her smile dropping immediately. She does a double-take and just stares at you for a second. A small smile starts to creep onto your face and her eyes are on yours. You give her a little nod and she finally breaks away shaking her head with a smile growing on her face. She joins her team for their first huddle of the game.

Your heart feels like it is beating out of its chest. You had imagined it a thousand times since your friends mentioned wanting to go to the championship game. It was the reason you chose these seats. Even in all of the fantasizing about seeing her - you didn't imagine it to actually happen. There were thousands of people in this arena and her eyes found yours.

As the team is in their huddle, she stands up and looks back over at you. A smile now playing on her lips in full view as she can't stop glancing over to the familiar spot.

You want to go down to her and tell her to focus on her coach. Her head needs to be in this game and not turning to look up at you. Although the frequency of her looks brings butterflies to your stomach with every glance.

Once they break, the game begins and you can see Caitlin lock into the game. You cheer with all the other fans as the final game of her college career is underway.

The game is a complete nail-biter. There were times when Caitlin absolutely was killing the game, shooting her signature threes and playmaking. At other times, she let the ball slip and you knew that she would hold onto that but never let anyone see how much it truly affected her. She was really good at shaking off her mistakes in the eyes of others but you knew her too well.

As the game begins to come to an end and you can see the victory slip away from Iowa, your eyes focus on your girl. She is staying composed but you know she is feeling it. In the final minute of the game, Caitlin makes her way to the bench, hugging each one of her coaches then takes a seat with a blank stare.

Your eyes try to stay away from her but she naturally draws your attention. In the final seconds of the game, as South Carolina begins to celebrate Caitlin's eyes make their way to yours. You only hold them for a second but that was all you needed to know she was hurting.

The game ends and you see the team head into the locker rooms. Your friends decide to head to the floor to see if they can talk to any of the players (more like the player's brothers), You use this time to sneak away and try to find the Iowa locker room. You know there is no way they would let you in but you start sweet-talking the security guard. In less than 2 minutes, you were pacing in the same spot you would always wait for Caitlin after a game. As you wait for her, your nerves pick up as your mind continues to take you down memory lane...

You and Caitlin had just graduated high school and you were celebrating in your favorite fashion, with her curled up in your side. The plans the two of you had for the summer were laid out on the floor next to you. It was going to be the best summer and indeed it was until it wasn't.

It was a few days before Caitlin needed to head off for off-season training at the University of Iowa. You were hanging out at her house in her gym. You both had been avoiding the elephant in the room.

It was a conversation you both knew you needed but didn't want to have. You knew that Caitlin's only commitment was to play D1 ball which was once your dream too. You also know to do that, she couldn't have anything holding her back.

The two of you finish some conditioning which leaves you both panting and sitting on the floor.

"As much as I love you, I hate doing cardio," you say in between breaths.

"Ya well, my favorite form of cardio involves a lot less running and a lot more of you..." she says with a smile. "Caitlin!" You gasp and push her over as she bursts out laughing.

You let out a few laughs yourself but then hear her quiet down. Looking over at her, you see her whole mood shifts. She comes in and hugs your torso, burying her face in you. You scoot closer to hold her, knowing what is about to come next. It feels like hours pass before you decide to speak.

"Caitlin, you know I love you. And I want the world for you. You are and will always be my best friend," you say rubbing her back. She squeezes you even more. "We both know where your head needs to be when you head to training. You will always be my person but in this next season you need to be your teams' person."

Silence fills the space again. Your eyes begin to fill with tears and you swallow the sobs that taunt your lips. Then she finally speaks.

"You are my person," she says just above a whisper, you almost miss it.

"This doesn't mean I will stop being your person. Like I said, I will always be your person. We both knew this was coming and we have done a really good job of putting it off," you try to lighten the mood. She doesn't budge.

She lets go of you and sits up. You wipe away her tears. They just keep falling.

"I just don't like the idea of losing you," she says as she starts playing with a piece of your hair. "You aren't losing me, babe," you reply but both of you knew that wasn't true.

"This was always the plan," you start. "And I will always be cheering you on," you say with the best smile you could muster. No matter how much it would hurt you would support her until your last breath.

"So that means you will be at the championship game when I take Iowa to the NCAA championship?" her question lightening the mood.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," you say as you give her one last kiss.

You are pulled back to reality when you hear some of the players head out. Caitlin was typically the last one out of the lockers and with the way you knew she was feeling it was going to be a minute.

It is about another 15 minutes of you pacing in the hallway for the door to open again. Your head whips around to see her coming out. She looks completely defeated. She would never show this side of her to the press.

As you turn to face her, she looks up. You say the only thing that felt right.

"Hey, you."

She immediately makes her way to you. Your arms wrap around her as her head buries its way into your neck. Despite her being taller, Caitlin loved to be held as if she was the shorter one. Your heels were definitely helping.

"I really wanted that," she mumbles into you after a few moments. You rub her back like you always used to. "I know...I know."

"Your legacy is so much more than that one game and I am so beyond proud of everything you have accomplished," you begin. "And with that, I know this was one of your dreams." Caitlin stays quiet and sinks into being held by you.

The two of you finally break apart, her hand doesn't leave your arm and you can't complain. You missed her touch so much. You missed her. She keeps rubbing your arm and you feel like you will melt.

"I have to head into a press meeting, but can we catch up later? Are you staying in town?" Caitlin asks.

"I came into town with some friends, we are staying at a hotel a few blocks away. Call me when you are done with press?" You reply hopeful.

"I'll call you the second I am out," she ways with a smile. Oh how you missed that smile.

You head back to the hotel you are staying at to change into something a little more casual. Your friends checked in and told you they were going out to a bar and wanted you to meet up with them. You let them know you were catching up with an old friend and that they shouldn't wait up for you. You get ready to meet up with Caitlin - changing your shirt and shoes into something more comfortable, keeping the jeans you wore to the game. Right after you finish changing your phone begins to ring.

"Hey you," you answer as you begin to gather a few things in your purse.

"Hey babe," Caitlin responds causing your cheeks to blush and your stomach to fly. A smile is plastered on your face. "I am out of press and am going to head to my hotel, would you be up for meeting me there?"

"Of course, just shoot over the address and I will head that way," you say as your phone pings. She was already sending it as you asked.

"I will see you in a few," she says before you both hang up.

You make your way to her hotel which is surprisingly only a 10-minute walk. You follow her directions on how to get up to her room and knock on the door. The nerves begin to build up and you feel like you are back in high school. Your hands make their way to rub against your jeans, a familiar place for them today.

Caitlin opens the door with a huge smile on her face as she moves away to let you in. "I thought it would be better to meet here, a little more privacy," she says as she closes the door.

The two of you spend the next 4 hours catching up on life and how college has been. She talks about all the records she has broken and how she can finally start looking at what comes after college ball. She talks about her family and how much they miss you. You follow her by also mentioning how your parents are so proud of her and miss her as well. You continue by talking about how you are going full-time with the company you are working for post-graduation. You talk about all the traveling you have been able to do and she gets to pitch in with the travels that she has done. It was like no time as passed, I mean above all you were best friends.

As the conversation begins to die down you realize how close the two of you became. You are sitting on a couch with your legs hanging over her lap and her hands on your knee.

A sigh escapes your lips as you close your eyes and take in the moment. You feel her hand begin to make its way to your thigh.

"Seeing you in the crowd today was something else," Caitlin begins. You cut her off, "Well I made a promise once to be there if a certain someone that if they made it to the championship, I would be there."

"If???" Caitlin yells with a fake offended tone and slaps your knee. You let out a little yelp, "Okay, okay, when." Your eyes roll as she starts to draw patterns on your leg.

After another long pause, Caitlin speaks again.

"I think we made a mistake," she says not daring to look you in the eye.

If you were going to be honest, you never wanted to end things when you went to college but you weren't going to make things harder than they had to be. Long distance wouldn't have worked for the two of you. You would have managed but with her schedule and yours, it would have done more damage than good. So you didn't fight her but there were numerous times that you wish would would have fought for her on ending things.

"I think I made a mistake," she continues as she finally looks up at you. You take her hands in yours and reply, "It was the right decision at the time. We didn't know better, we were young."

You continue. "But that was then and here we are now," touching her arm and giving it a little squeeze. After seeing her and how she has filled out, you have been waiting to get your hands on her arms. "And we are both about to graduate and my plan was to come back to Iowa..."

"There is no one like you," she says as she leans closer to you. You let out a little laugh.

"No Caitlin, there is no one like you," you say as your hand comes up to cup her face. You both smile as your lips meet. It is like no time has passed, her lips are still so familiar.

After a few more kisses, you both moved to the bed. She curled up into your side and your arms made their around her. You are her home and she is yours.

"I love you," you whispered as you kissed her head.

"And I love you," she responds as you both drift to sleep, more at peace than either of you have felt over the past four years.

AN: TADA! Let me know your thoughts! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

Now go check out PART 2!

#caitlin clark #cc #caitlin clark x reader #iowa hawkeyes #caitlin clark imagine #iowa wbb

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0cta9on · 6 months ago

Text

Unlikely Duet - 8

Length: 18k+ words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: First of all, thanks to @msafterhours for beta reading! This chapter wouldn't have been as good without your input :] TW: Violence and mention of blood. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter, it was a blast to write :> )

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Yuno’s POV

It’s weird. It’s a Monday, universally agreed to be the most hated day of the week, and yet, here I am, waking up with a smile on my face like it’s the most regular thing in the world. I had no weird dreams this time around, but that didn’t stop Minji from being the first person I thought about the second I opened my eyes. Whatever I said before about love being stupid, scratch that. I feel invincible.

After quickly getting ready, I head downstairs to see my dad cooking breakfast, an image I’m slowly getting used to. It feels comforting knowing someone cares enough about me to go through all the trouble of cooking a meal.

“Good morning, dad.”

“Good morning, Yuno. You seem happy this morning,” he smirks at me.

My face already aches, not used to smiling this much. “Yeah, just… excited for school, I guess,” I shrug.

“Mhm, sure,” he chuckles, sliding a plate of food towards me. “Eat up.” Right before I dig into my breakfast, I send a text to the group chat, asking Winter and Yujin if they want to meet up at the convenience store and walk to school together.

Winter: sure thing :)

Yujin: yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

Actual food for breakfast, actual friends to walk to school with, and an actual crush I get to see at school? It’s only morning and already this day feels perfect.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

My heart thumps with anxiety while my parents sit across from me at the dining table, completely oblivious to the dread I feel in every fiber of my being. In order for me to survive at the banquet tomorrow, I need them to agree to let me bring a plus one. Specifically, I need them to let me bring Yuno, the one person they specifically told me to stay away from.

I inhale deeply, firming up my resolve as best as I can. “Um, Mother? Father?”

They both look up at me. “Yes, dear?” Mother answers.

“About the banquet tomorrow-” “Ah right, Ms. Park told me that Sunghoon is excited to see you again after so long. Isn’t that nice?”

I bite my tongue to keep myself from visibly cringing. “Right, um, I actually wanted to ask you if I could bring a friend to the banquet.”

They exchange looks at each other before turning back to me. “I don’t see why not. Who did you want to invite?”

“Um… Yuno.”

“Absolutely not!” Mother answers a bit too quickly. “We told you already that we don’t want you associating with that boy! Why don’t you bring any of your other friends, like Danielle, or even Hanni would be more acceptable than him.”

“Because, uh…” I need to think of a lie, something, anything that can convince them. “...Because he has an interest in the business,” I blurt out. Not my best work, but it’s better than nothing. Both of them furrow their brows, unconvinced, yet neither of them say a word, simply waiting for my explanation.

“I, uh, told him about the family business and he got so, um, inspired by your story that he wants to, uh, pursue a business degree in college.”

Their glares feel like spotlights, scrutinizing my every little move. Mother’s expression remains the same — bewildered and a little irked — but I can see the gears slowly turning in Father’s pensive gaze.

“I thought the banquet would be a good opportunity for him to make connections in the industry, y’know, just like how you want me to,” I continue. “You two always emphasize the importance of making strong connections in case I need help in the future, so why can’t I be the connection that helps Yuno?”

“Honey, we are not charity workers-”

“Wait,” Father says, turning towards her. “I think we should let him come.”

Both mine and my mother’s eyes grow wide in surprise.

“Really?” We say in unison.

“I’ve always had a firm belief in education, both in and out of the classroom. This banquet could be an opportunity for him to better himself. He clearly has no plans for the future otherwise.”

Mother opens her mouth to argue, but instead sighs and nods. “Fine, we will permit Yuno to come to the banquet.”

I almost can’t believe the words coming out of their mouths. My plan is actually going to work. I’m so happy I could cry.

“But,” she adds, “If he causes any trouble, we forbid you from seeing him outside of school, okay?”

“Y-yes, of course, I’ll make sure he stays out of trouble! Thank yo-”

“And I don’t want you sneaking off and being alone with that boy. We’ll have Sunghoon stick with the two of you the entire time.”

My ears start to ring like a massive bomb just dropped nearby.

“...W-what!?”

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

The morning sun warms my skin as I wait for my friends by the convenience store. Birds fly above, singing their spring song like gentle plucks of a violin, sonorous yet fragile. A clear sky hangs overhead, unblemished by smog or storm clouds. It almost feels like mother nature herself wants me to have a good day.

“Good morning, Yuno!”

“YUNOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Winter and Yujin appear in the distance, walking towards me.

“Hey,” I greet them with a wave. They both stop in their tracks, eyeing me with surprise. “...What?”

“You’re smiling,” Winter states as if it’s the most insane thing she’s ever seen.

I turn my head away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Y-yeah, so what?”

“Aw, Winter, you ruined it,” Yujin teases. “He looked so happy.”

I sigh. “...Let’s just go.”

Both of them chuckle, taking their spot on either side of me like it’s where they belong. For so long, I walked the same route to school alone every morning, yet today, it feels a little different. The colors on the buildings and the street signs seem so much more vivid, the air smells like fresh grass and blooming flowers, puddles and windows glisten like diamonds as they reflect the sun’s morning light. A part of me thinks that I’m dreaming again — when did the world look this beautiful? But the way Yujin nudges my side to show me a drawing he’s working on or the way Winter clutches onto my shoulder after almost tripping on nothing lets me know that all of this is real. The world that I used to hate waking up to is now a world that I can look at with a smile.

A real, genuine smile.

______________________________________________________________

As the three of us walk through the hallways of Evergreen, I feel the familiar stares of the other students, eyeing me like some kind of untamed beast that could jump out at them at any moment. Even with everything else changing around me, I can always count on high schoolers to be ever stagnant and predictable in their behaviors. Although, something in their eyes feels a little peculiar. Instead of just fear, there’s something else hiding behind it. Intrigue? Admiration? Maybe these rose-tinted lenses are starting to make me see things.

“P-people sure d-do stare a lot, h-huh?” Winter asks, her voice shrinking to a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I guess they do.” I glance back at them, both their gazes glued to the ground, clearly not used to the unwanted attention. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you guys.”

“It’s okay, Yuno, it’s not your fault,” Yujin reassures me.

“Y-yeah, I’m sure w-we’ll get used to it,” Winter adds with a small grin. Man, what did I do to deserve these two?

The five minute warning bell rings, sending the students still left in the hallways in a hurry. I say my goodbyes to Winter and Yujin as we part ways, enduring the usual stares and hushed voices as I make my way to my seay in the back. Still, something feels odd about the way they’re looking at me today. I try to meet their eyes to get a better look, but everyone keeps looking away, pretending like they weren’t whispering about me to their friends. If this keeps going on for the rest of the day, I’m gonna be pissed.

“Yuno Lin to the principal’s office, Yuno Lin to the principal’s office. Now,” the PA system announces, giving me a wave of deja vu. I have a couple guesses for what this could be about…

______________________________________________________________

Instead of coming out the gate swinging, Mr. Geier just sits at his desk, his hands clasped in deep thought. Normally, I would be pretty indifferent to whatever he has to say, but after everything Minji said to me, I suddenly feel guilty sitting in front of him. It probably isn’t easy dealing with my shit on a weekly basis.

“So…” he starts, finally looking up at me after a few minutes of silence. “I’m sure you know why you’re in here, Yuno.”

“Yup…”

He sighs. “The McGraw’s donate a lot of money to this school. They didn’t exactly take well to receiving a call that their son was found unconscious in the bathroom with a broken nose.”

Ah shit. This is it. The consequences of my actions have finally caught up to me. Fate, you cruel bastard, making me wake up in a good mood for the first time in years, only to send me to jail before the day even starts. Goodbye dad, Yujin, Winter, and Minji. Minji…

“But…”

But…!

“...They’ve decided not to press charges.”

“What!?” I exclaim, relieved and deeply confused.

“We received a tip from one of the boys on the football team that Tyler had been bullying a group of freshman boys for months. They still wanted to press charges anyways, but I may have… insinuated that if they did, I would ensure Tyler could only set foot into a community college at best.”

My eyes widen, slowly connecting the dots. “Did you…?”

“No, it was not for you,” he states matter-of-factly. “It was for the sake of all the freshmen that suffered because of him.”

“R-right.” I sink back into my chair, feeling sheepish. “So… what happens now? Detention? Suspension?”

“No, I have something else in mind for you.”

Just then, the door to Mr. Geier’s office swings open, sending in a wave of lavender and rainbows into his office as the girl of my dreams walks through.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Geier?” Minji says before turning to me, a quizzical look in her eyes.

“Perfect timing, Minji,” he says, “This is Yuno Lin. Yuno, this is Minji Kim, the student council president.”

Minji shoots me a confused look, but I’m too distracted by her beauty to pay full attention. Her hair is in a ponytail today with two strands of hair framing her perfect face. The sound of my thumping heart gets louder in my ears, drowning out whatever Geier is saying. Hopefully it’s not anything important. What could be more important than Minji? God, she’s so pretty, I-

“Yuno, are you paying attention?” Mr. Geier snaps at me.

“S-sorry, what?” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Minji stifling a giggle, making my cheeks burn red.

“As I was saying, your punishment will be to help Minji with prom preparations. Whatever she asks you to do, you do it. If you cause any trouble for her, she’ll report it to me and you will face the consequences, understand?”

You mean I get to spend more time with Minji? As a punishment? “Yup, I understand,” I say, trying not to look too eager.

“Good.” He turns towards Minji. “Just make him lift the heavy stuff or something. He can be a handful, but he, uh… He means well.” How sweet, Geier. I’m blushing.

“That shouldn’t be much of a problem,” she says, smirking. “We’ve actually met bef-”

“U-uh, it’s nice to meet you for the first time ever, Ms. President!” I exclaim, shoving my hand towards her before she can utter another word. If Geier finds out that his “punishment” is more like a “blessing” for me, he’ll probably give me some other grunt work to deal with.

Minji awkwardly shakes my hand, giving me a curious expression. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you too, Yuno.” The feeling of her soft hand against mine beats out any kind of embarrassment I should be feeling right now.

“Alright, you can head back to class now, Minji,” Mr. Geier dismisses her. She gives me a small yet bewildered grin before exiting his office, leaving me alone with the principal yet again. My gaze lingers towards the door even after it closes, wishing she’ll pop back in for a few more seconds.

“So,” he begins, taking me out of my daydreams. “You got lucky. Extremely lucky. However, that doesn’t mean you can keep doing this and expecting to get out scot free just because I stick my neck out for you. There are rules here, and I understand that you may not agree with those rules, but they are there regardless, which means you must follow them just like everybody else. No more playing vigilante just because you can, you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand. I’m sorry.”

“I- you what?” He asks, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Uh, I said I understand and I’m sorry,” I reiterate sheepishly.

“Oh. Okay. Well. Good. As long as you understand.” It’s almost offensive just how shocked he is, as if I didn’t know my own actions were wrong. I might be stubborn, but I’m not stupid.

“I’m going back to class,” I state, getting up from my chair. Right before I exit his office, I turn to Geier one last time. “Uh, my dad is doing better now.”

He looks up at me, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile. “Really? That’s great to hear, Yuno.”

I give him a nod before shutting the door behind me. I’m not sure what exactly compelled me to tell him that, just a hunch that told me it was the right thing to do at the moment. Geier did ask about him last time, so it only makes sense. I guess.

As I turn the corner, I catch Minji leaning against the wall right outside of Geier’s office. Was she waiting for me?

“Oh. Hey,” I greet her with a small wave. “Hey!” She says, flashing me a smile that could bring about world peace. “What did Mr. Geier talk to you about? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“It was about the, uh… thing that happened with Tyler.”

“Ah, right. So his idea of a punishment for you is to be around me? Ouch,” she jokes. We walk through the halls together despite not sharing the same first period (or any period for that matter). A weird energy hangs in the space between us, like a balloon threatening to pop if either of us get too close. My mind tiptoes on the fence between pushing my luck or staying in a comfortable space. In the end, I throw caution to the wind and close the gap just a little.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think it’s a punishment at all,” I say, thinking out loud.

“That’s very kind of you, Yuno,” she chimes, a hint of pink gracing her cheeks. Simply being around her is making my heart pound like crazy. Can she hear it? God, I hope not. How am I supposed to control myself when she’s this cute? I just want to-

“Oh!” Minji suddenly stops and points at my face. Shit, was I thinking out loud again? Is she secretly psychic and can hear all my thoughts this whole time?

“W-what?” I ask, flustered.

“You’re smiling.”

I awkwardly clear my throat, wiping the smile off my face. “Y-yeah, so what? Am I not allowed to smile?”

She giggles at me. “No, you’re allowed to smile. In fact, I think you should smile more often, I rarely ever get to see you smile.”

“W-whatever,” I mutter, trying to hide the growing blush on my face. “About the banquet tomorrow, is there a dress code or something? I, uh, don’t own a suit,” I ask, changing the subject.

Minji’s expression suddenly darkens as a dejected sigh floats from her lips. “Oh right, the banquet…” she groans.

“S-sorry for bringing it up.”

“No, it’s fine,” she assures me. “My parents just told me this morning that if I’m gonna bring you along, the guy I’m trying to avoid has to stick around us the whole time, rendering my whole plan basically useless.”

“This guy you’re trying to avoid, is he, um….” I gulp nervously. “...your ex?”

“Ew! Oh my god, no!” Minji exclaims. “He’s the son of my parents’ business partners. He used to be a complete menace towards me when we were kids until he moved away during middle school. Oh my god, the thought of us ever dating is just…” Her entire body shivers in disgust.

I try my best to appear neutral, but inside, fireworks are going off in my head. It’s like Christmas came early this year. I have to physically fight off another smile from growing on my face.

“So, what are we gonna do now? Maybe…” I search my mind for another possible solution for her problem, but only one comes up, and frankly, it’s the best possible case for her and the worst possible case for me. I sigh in disappointment. “...maybe I just shouldn’t go.”

Her gaze shoots up at me. “What?”

“If I don’t go, then you won’t be forced to be around him the entire time,” I explain.

“But I-”

“I’ll probably stick out like a sore thumb anyways, being in a room full of a bunch of rich business people. Your parents already don’t like me, what would they all think of me being around you? Maybe it’s best if I don’t go-”

“Stop!” She suddenly exclaims, a fire burning in her irises. “I invited you because I want you to go, okay? Screw my original plan, screw everyone who judges you, and especially screw Sunghoon! You’re my friend and I want you to be there, don’t worry about all that superficial nonsense.” Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, carrying the determination of her words. No wonder people voted for her as student council president, a speech like that could move anyone to action.

After a short pause, I concede. “...Okay, I’ll go.”

A smile replaces the serious expression she had, sending my heart into another frenzy. “Thank you, Yuno. All you have to do is enjoy yourself, don’t worry about scaring him off or anything dumb like that.”

Enjoy myself. At a banquet. That I certainly don’t belong in. Sure, I can do that.

“I should probably head back to the student council room, I still have a lot of work to do,” she says. “I, um… I’m glad we had this talk. I’ll see ya later.” And just like that, Minji disappears down the halls, leaving me standing here like a fool in love. The warmth in my chest feels like it’s gonna get hotter and hotter until I explode. I desperately hope she needs my help with prom preparations later.

______________________________________________________________

The presence of a substitute would normally mean all chaos ensues, but the odd tension hanging in the air during English practically suffocates any chances of socialization. I didn’t exactly mind nor care, but the silence only made the nervous glances towards me even more obvious. Furthermore, thanks to Tyler’s “disappearance”, his friends on the other side of the room don’t even try to hide their accusatory pointing and disdainful glares. Their sentiments aren’t exactly wrong, but it’s still annoying being on the receiving end of them. Surely, they know better than to start any dumb shit right now.

And yet, I’m unsurprisingly proven wrong as one of them, a tall boy with blonde hair (is his name Connor? Colton? I have no clue), stomps towards me with fury in his eyes.

“Hey,” he growls at me, “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to Tyler, would you?”

A sigh escapes me. Welp, that’s what I get for getting my hopes up. “Is he not here today? I had no idea,” I mutter, not giving him so much as a glance.

He slams his fist into my desk, causing everyone to look back at the commotion with fearful glances, including Winter. I shake my head reassuringly at her, but unfortunately, Tyler’s friend notices this and scoffs to himself.

“Behind the gym during lunch. Don’t be late.” He glances in Winter’s direction with a smirk on his face. “Or else.”

My fingernails dig into my palms as I ball my fist up in anger, my heart pumping with anger. For the first time since he came over, I glare at him, watching his cocky facade crack in front of my eyes as he scurries back to his little group with his tail in between his legs.

Dammit. God fucking dammit. Is it so hard for me to have one good day without having to deal with anyone’s shit? I notice Winter still staring at me with a worried look, so I conjure up my best convincing smile. She nods and turns back to her book, but I’m not sure if it ends up working.

It’s clear that he wants a fight. Of course he wants a goddamn fight.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno: I won’t be at lunch. I have something I need to deal with.

I send the text to the group chat as I pace around, waiting for Tyler’s goons to show up. The area behind the school’s gym is basically a cesspool for rule breaking; half the concrete is covered in cigarette butts, glass shards, and other mysterious stains from other’s unseemly activities that I’d rather stay unaware of. It’s a wonder how none of the teachers look back here with how often students frequent this place.

Finally, the boy from English class (Kayden? Kenneth? It starts with a K sound, I know that much) appears, alongside a dozen other boys that I’ve seen hanging around Tyler. A few of them are unarmed, but most are carrying broken mop handles. One guy has a pocket knife, so that’s something at least.

“Hey fuckface!” The blonde boy yells. “You think you can mess with Tyler just because you think you’re all high and mighty? Well, newsflash pal, you’re not!”

“Yeah!” His entourage cheers him on.

This is comical. These guys attend a high school in the suburbs, and yet they’re parading around like a bunch of wannabe gangsters. Did they rehearse their lines or something? Why does he talk like a movie bully from the 1950s? It’s taking every fiber of my being not to burst out laughing right now.

“You made a big mistake pal, and we’re gonna make you regret-”

“Fuck, alright!” I groan in annoyance. “Are we doing this or not?”

I stretch my arms, loosening myself up as they timidly inch closer with their little sticks pointed towards me. This could be over in the blink of an eye if I want it to, but I promised Minji I would stop fighting, so I won’t. Not exactly sure what that means, but I’m not exactly known for planning these things out.

I’m not a fighting expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve been in enough to recognize certain patterns. Shaky eyes. Quivering breath. Their knuckles burning white as they clench their fists too hard to compensate for the fact that they have no idea what they’re doing. With each step they take, it only becomes more apparent how downright terrified they are. I almost feel bad for them.

It’s not like I wanted this either, but I brought this upon myself of my own volition. These guys could have said no and went about their day, living their regular high school lives, but instead, they’re rallying behind some guy they’re probably not close with just for a measly ounce of street cred they get for “showing their loyalty,” effectively reducing themselves to lap dogs that get the “privilege” of calling themselves popular. I’m not doing this for street cred or privilege or any of that bullshit that they care too much about. I’m doing this because the asshole that they’re rallying behind threatened my friend.

Inevitably, one of them gets brave enough to make the first move. He swings his stick, hollering at the top of his lungs, and misses wildly as I dodge to the side. The next guy gets lucky, breaking his stick against my arm as I block the side of my head. My arm stings like hell, but I can’t focus on that for too long before the rest of them start getting confident and lunging at me.

Even in the midst of the frenzy, as I dodge a swing aimed towards my head or suffer a kick to the stomach, all I can think about is Minji. I made a promise to her, one I have no intention of breaking. Rather than a fight between me and the dozens of Tyler’s lackeys, it feels more like a fight between me and my instincts, actively trying to suppress the years of bad habits just for Minji. A part of me feels stupid for doing it - it’s not like she’ll ever see this anyways - yet I continue to subdue my instincts, even if it means sustaining a couple brutal blows to the body.

One of the bigger guys in the group tackles me to the ground, taking the wind out of me as my back collides with the hard concrete. My ears start to ring as he lands two solid punches to my cheek. I flail my hands wildly to the side, desperate for something to grab, before landing on a pile of broken glass. Ignoring the blood rushing to my palms, I chuck the shards at his face. He yelps in pain, allowing me to push him off and get back to my feet. Before I can even blink, my head begins to spin as another punch sends me careening towards the brick wall. Warm blood leaks through my lips, staining my shirt. Two more guys stand over me before hoisting me up by my arms.

I’m fucking exhausted. My vision is blurry and the ringing in my ears grows louder by the second. Each inhale burns just a bit hotter than the last. I’m covered in blood again, but this time, it’s all my own. Every cell in my body screams at me for getting into this situation in the first place, berating me for my own stubbornness. Yet the blonde boy, Kyle or whatever the fuck his name is, stands in front of me unscathed, not even a drop of sweat on his brow. The rest of his buddies are on the ground, breathless and covered in injuries they got from tripping over each other. I cough out a weak chuckle, sending a jolt of pain through my chest.

“W-what the fuck are you laughing at?!” Even his threats are starting to get shaky.

“Just funny… You called me out here… Yet… You didn’t do shit…” I mutter. “Fucking… coward…”

The fury ignites in his eyes, the same one present when he first called me out in English. He grabs a broken mop handle off the ground and swings it overhead, aiming for my face. This is it. Started this day off with a smile, and look where I’m at now. In the back of my mind, I always knew I would go out like this. It’s a shame this had to happen after I finally found something to look forward to. With a shallow breath, my eyes flutter shut as I unwillingly accept my fate.

Suddenly, a loud siren blares through the air. The stick that was sailing towards my head mere seconds ago now clatters to the ground. Mr. Geier pops up from behind the building with a megaphone in his hand, alongside two teachers, Winter, Yujin, Danielle, and Minji.

“What the hell are you doing!? Put him down NOW!” Geier yells through the megaphone. I collapse to my knees as the two idiots drop me to the ground. A mix of emotions swirl through my head, but the sense of relief shines clearest through the storm. The fact that I’m alive almost makes everything feel more painful.

As the teachers reprimand the other guys, Minji and the others rush over to me, their overlapping voices of worry combined with the ringing in my ears making it impossible to make out anything. I want to tell them that it’s fine, I made it out alive. In a shit ton of pain, but alive nonetheless. No words come out. My vision is starting to blur again. Minji’s face is the last thing I see before everything turns to black.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

I lean back in my chair, stretching my arms as I let out a long, exhausted sigh. It feels like no matter how much progress I make with prom, there’s still a whole mountain of things I still need to do.

Danielle walks through the door of the student council room, carrying a pile of papers with her. I nearly burst into tears just looking at the size of the stack.

“Relax,” she says reassuringly, reading my expression. “These are all taken care of.”

I slide farther into my chair, releasing a deep breath. “Oh thank god, I don’t think I can handle doing anymore paperwork.”

She grins, taking a seat next to me. “The principal approved the caterers and our ‘Red Carpet’ theme, I informed the club leaders to start working on their floats for the prom parade, and Woohyuk and Julie from the art club agreed to paint a mural in the gym. All we have left to do is pick a venue, find a DJ, and prepare decorations.”

“You say that like it’s an easy thing to do.” I sigh, resting my head on the table while Danielle merely shrugs her shoulders. A couple minutes of silence pass, both of us exhausted and overwhelmed by the ever growing pile of work. “Are Woohyuk and Julie dating?” I ask, making small talk.

“I think so. They seem to have gotten a lot closer after the school festival, and they wouldn’t stop shooting each other heart eyes when I asked them to paint the mural. It was sickening,” she jokes.

Dating in high school always felt like an enigma to me. Statistically speaking, only 20% of couples last until college, and only 10% ever get married. High schoolers are the most emotional, stubborn, immature, and hormonal people on the planet (according to my parents), why would you want to date someone like that? But it’s not like I don’t want to date… I just never had the chance to. I would be lying if I said I don’t look at couples walking arm-in-arm through the halls with some kind of envy. Wouldn’t it be nice to go through the struggles of your teen years with someone that understands you because they’re going through the exact same thing? I say that, and then I look out the potential dating pool at Evergreen, only to be reminded of why I haven’t dated anyone. I mean, there is one guy I wouldn’t mind dating…

“Why do you ask?” Danielle says, interrupting my train of thought.

“U-uh nothing, just curious.” My cheeks suddenly flare up with heat as she leans forward, scrutinizing my expression.

“Are you thinking about that boy again?

My eyes go wide as I shake my head profusely. “W-what, no! Why would I be thinking about Yuno?”

“Because I didn’t even mention a name, yet your mind automatically went to Yuno.” She raises her eyebrows in an ‘I told you so’ expression, causing me to shrink in my chair. “Are you really gonna fall for someone like that just because he saves your purse from a thief?”

“I told you I—Huh? How do you know about that?”

Danielle takes her phone out and pulls up a video from a local news account titled, “Heroic Man Stops Mall Purse Thief.” My eyes grow even wider as the video plays, showing Yuno tackling the thief who stole my purse and the… awkward hug I gave him afterwards. Apparently, someone had recorded the entire altercation and uploaded it to social media. It now has…

“Five million views?!” I exclaim. That explains all the weird looks I’ve been getting today. I faceplant into the table, my face burning with a fire of a thousand suns. So that means the entire school saw me… hugging Yuno… I mean, why do I feel so embarrassed in the first place? Hugging is a perfectly normal way to show gratitude towards someone. He got my purse back, so a hug seems pretty normal, right? It’s not like people are gonna assume we’re dating. Not that I have any problem with dating him, it’s just…

I let out a sigh. “Danielle…” I groan, my voice muffled by the table.

“Hm?” I feel her gently pat my shoulder in support. I lift my head, turning towards her.

“What do I do?”

She tilts her head at me, confused. “Do you want them to take the video down?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s… I don’t know. I’m so lost. There’s a lot going on with prom and my parents, it feels like I’m being tossed back and forth in a tornado with nothing around to hold onto for support. There’s things that I want to do that seem so… impossible given the circumstances. I wish I could freeze time just so I could have a moment to myself to think.” I slump back onto the table in defeat while Danielle continues to rub my shoulder.

Compared to the rest of the girls, Danielle is the most logical one. Hanni does everything she can to cheer me up, Haerin lends an ear and a shoulder to cry on no matter what, Hyein is always there to show me the brighter side of things, and Danielle is prepared with an easy 3-step solution to virtually any of my problems. If I’m drowning in a sea of doubt and anxiety, I know she’ll be there with a spare life vest and an intricately made wooden raft to hoist me out of the water. But not even she has the answers to everything.

Suddenly, the door to the student council room swings open.

“We need help,” a familiar voice shoots through the door. “Quickly.”

Yuno’s friends stand in the doorway panting, worry painted on their faces. Winter looks like she’s on the verge of tears while Yujin’s normally cheery disposition is hauntingly absent.

“What’s wrong?” Danielle asks.

“I-I’m not sure, b-but I think h-he’s in a fight right n-now, behind the g-gym,” Winter answers, her voice breaking.

A fight? N-no… What if he gets hurt?

I hurriedly jump to my feet, my mind racing. “Danielle, Yujin, go get Principal Geier. Winter, come with me,” I command, panic evident in my voice. The four of us promptly leave the student council room, with Danielle and Yujin diverging to the principal’s office while Winter and I walk briskly towards the gym.

“Tell me everything. What do you mean Yuno might be in a fight?” I ask her.

“D-during English, Cameron w-went up to Yuno and he looked r-really angry. I-I couldn’t hear everything th-they were saying, but it s-sounded like he told him to m-meet behind the gym during l-lunch,” she explains. I pick up the pace, adrenaline pumping through my body. With each passing step, all I can think about is one thing.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

______________________________________________________________

As we turn the corner to the back of the gym, my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach while my breath gets completely sucked from my lungs. Two boys hold up Yuno’s limp body as a third prepares to swing a stick straight towards his head. I wanna scream, I wanna run to him and make sure he’s okay, but my entire body stays frozen in place. Why does it have to be Yuno? Why couldn’t it be anyone else? I was just talking to him a few hours ago, he was fine. He was smiling. I wish I could see that smile on his face again. Please.

“M-Minji,” Danielle softly calls out my name, wiping the tears off my face with concern in her eyes. I didn’t even realize I was crying. She holds me as I uncontrollably sob into her shoulder, my heart aching with an indescribable pain. It feels like I’m being torn apart from the inside. I need him to be okay. Please.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she says, patting my arm. I look up from her shoulder, wiping away my tears, to see Yuno collapse to the floor. Mr. Geier and the other two teachers with us yell at the rest of the boys to line up against the wall using harsh language I’ve never heard him say before. The four of us get down by his side, desperate to make sure he’s okay.

“H-he’s fine, right? He’ll be okay, right? D-Dani?” Yujin asks, his voice quivering as he looks up at her for reassurance.

“Just, um, give him some room to breathe for now.”

“Y-Y-Y-Yuno…” Winter’s entire body shakes as she weeps into her hands. I should comfort her. I’m the student council president, it’s my responsibility to make sure everyone’s okay. But my own tears won’t stop flowing as I gently cup his cheek, swollen and red with cuts. You were awake earlier. Your eyes were open and you were smiling. Please wake up. Please smile again, Yuno. Please.

“Guys, we have to take him to the nurse, now!” Mr. Geier exclaims, grabbing Yuno by the arms. “Help me get his legs up!”

The three of them lift up his legs while I’m still too busy crying to help. My body is moving, following close behind them, but my mind is too muddled to properly process anything. The next few minutes are nothing but a blur of hallways and odd stares from students exiting the lunch room. I don’t care. I don’t care about what other students think of Yuno. I don’t care about what my parents think of him. I don’t care about what people at the banquet will think of him. All I care about is him and making sure that he’s okay.

Once we arrive at the nurse’s office, they gently lay his body on one of the cots. I sit down next to him, just staring at his face. His chest slowly rises and falls with breath. That’s good. He’s breathing. He’s alive.

Mr. Geier says something to us that I can’t quite make out. All of their voices fade into the background of my mind like nothing was ever said in the first place. Mr. Geier leaves, with Winter and Yujin following soon after. Danielle sits down next to me and says something, but I’m too distracted to listen right now. She ends up leaving soon too. All I can do is sit here and wait for him to wake up. Please wake up soon. Please.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

My eyes blink open to a blotchy field of grays and blacks. I try to sit up, but a stabbing pain shoots through my entire body. Every breath feels like hell to get through. Memories of what happened moments before I passed out come back to me. I almost got my skull busted open, and then there was this loud siren. I thought I saw Minji before I passed out, but I’m not too sure. Fuck, my body hurts like hell. Where am I anyways?

As my vision begins to focus, I see the familiar fluorescent lights of the school glaring back at me. I finally sit up, doing my best to ignore the pain in my back, and look around - the nurse’s office. The school’s nurse, a skinny woman with giant glasses and violently pink scrubs, sits at her desk and types away at her computer, oblivious to my consciousness. I consider saying something to let her know I’m awake, but my throat is too dry to produce any noise.

I turn to my left and my heart stops in my chest. Minji is lying on the cot next to me, sleeping peacefully. I start to wonder if this is all just another weird dream, but as I reach out and gently brush the hair from her face, the soft skin of her cheek feels too real. Even when she’s sleeping, she’s so beautiful. But… Why is she here?

“Oh good, you’re awake,” the nurse says, rising from her desk. I quickly retract my hand from Minji’s face. “Principal Geier explained everything that happened. How are you feeling?”

I stretch my limbs, testing how much I can withstand the pain before it becomes unbearable. “Could be better, but I’m alive and breathing at least,” I say. “Uh, what is she doing here? Did she get hurt?” My voice raises slightly as I gesture to Minji’s sleeping form. If those fuckers did anything to her, I’m gonna-

“I think she’s fine. She came in with you and wouldn’t move or speak, even after Principal Geier told the rest of the kids to get back to class. She just sat there, watching over you until she fell asleep,” the nurse explains.

I sign in relief, thankful that she’s not hurt, but the nurse’s explanation only produces more questions. Why didn’t she leave? I’m sure she’s busy with a million other things, watching over me will only set her back even more. It’s not like this is the first time this kind of thing has happened to me. Something similar happened right before I met Minji. I’ll feel like shit for a few days, but I’m relatively fine.

So why did she stay?

The nurse pats my shoulder, handing me an ice bag. “I have to go, some kid threw up in the library, just put this wherever you feel like it. Will you and your girlfriend be fine here alone?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “She’s not m- Uh, sure, we’ll be fine.”

She exits the room, leaving me alone with Minji. The silence gives me a moment to get my thoughts straight as the ice bag partially soothes my headache. Her face is so still and peaceful, I slow down my breaths despite the pain just so I don’t wake her up. The last time I saw her face like this was when we slept in the same bed after she almost got attacked in front of the convenience store. My heart still burns with anger at the thought of Minji nearly getting hurt. I want to protect her. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, I want to be there for her in any way I can. In the short time I’ve known Minji, it feels like I’m becoming a better person, or maybe I’m just becoming more and more foolish. I don’t know. Feelings are confusing.

Minji’s eyes suddenly flutter open, and as soon as they meet mine, she jumps up, wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace. “Y-you’re awake! Oh my god, you’re awake!” She sobs into my shoulders. I completely freeze in her arms, the surprise overtaking the pain.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, Minji. Are you okay?” I ask, awkwardly patting her back. She separates from me, tears overflowing from her eyes. With each drop that falls, I feel my heart crack into a billion pieces, this pain worse than anything I’ve ever felt before. Hesitantly, I wipe away her tears with my uninjured hand, making sure my movements are gentle.

“H-hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong?” She takes a moment to calm down, sinking her cheek into my palm as she controls her breathing. I don’t dare move my hand, even after most of the tears stop flowing.

“I-I was… so worried… that y-you wouldn’t… wake up…” She stutters in between sniffles. “I-I thought you w-were… th-thought you were… dea-”

“I’m okay, Minji,” I interrupt her, afraid she’ll start bawling again if she finishes her sentence. “U-um, please stop crying. I’m okay.”

She takes one more deep breath before sitting back down, regretfully moving my hand from her cheek. We sit in silence for a while, unsure of what to say. She cried after getting attacked by the convenience store, but this time seems different. This time, she wasn’t crying for her, she was crying for me.

“Wait here,” Minji mutters before getting up and walking over to the sink in the corner of the room. I watch silently as she pulls out a few things from the cupboard and fiddles with the sink for a moment before walking back over to me. She gently places a bowl of water and a hand towel next to me before taking out a juice box and poking a straw through the top.

“Here.” She brings the straw to my lips, making me flinch slightly.

“Oh. Thanks.” I take it from her, drinking it as she dips the towel into the water and gently tends to my cut up hand. My body recoils from her touch more than the pain itself. It still feels foreign to me, being cared for like this. Never in a million years did I imagine someone like Minji Kim to pop into my life. She’s way too good for me. What good would I be as her boyfriend? What good am I as her friend for that matter? I don’t want to be a nuisance in her life. I want- No, I need to be better. For her.

She finishes wrapping the gauze around my hand. “Is that okay? Not too tight?” She asks, her voice slightly hoarse from crying.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Thanks.” I look at her, meeting her eyes. “You didn’t have to do this. You should’ve just left-”

“Why did you get into another fight? I thought you said you wouldn’t fight anymore.” Her tone turns stern, softly reprimanding my decisions.

“I didn’t fight,” I assure her. “If I didn’t show up, they were gonna go after Winter, but I promise, I didn’t try to hit them or anything.”

“So you just let them beat you up!?” Minji shoots me a look of disbelief, tears welling up in her eyes.

“N-no! I-I dodged and stuff, they just got a few lucky hits in!” I hastily try to explain myself, hoping she doesn’t cry again. In hindsight, it sounds even more stupid when I say it out loud. I went to the back of the gym, fully expecting there to be a crowd of people wanting to kick my ass, and the only plan I had was to… not fight? Even if I did make it out fine, did I just expect Minji not to say anything about the sudden abundance of injuries all over my body? God, I’m such a dumbass.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone!? A-a teacher!? Principal Geier!? Me!?” The look of outrage alone is enough to make me feel like a child getting scolded by their parents. My gaze falls to the ground, hiding my embarrassed blush.

“I, uh… I didn’t think of that…” I shamefully admit. She sits next to me, sighing into her hands. Seconds stretch into entire years as tense silence overtakes the room. Even my own breathing feels comparable to a car engine with how quiet everything is.

My entire body freezes as I feel Minji rest her head on my shoulder. Her silky black hair tickles my neck while the scent of her lavender perfume wafts through my nose, giving me visions of running through a clear field full of nothing but lavender stems. “Do you know why I’m mad at you?” She asks, her voice surprisingly mild.

“Uh, because I’m… stupid?”

She chuckles lightly at my half-joke. “You’re not stupid. What you did was stupid, but no, that’s not why I’m mad.”

“Because, uh… I didn’t talk to you first?”

“Bingo.” She lifts her head up to look at me. Her face is close, I can feel the warmth emanating from her soft cheeks. “I know you wanted to protect Winter, but you ended up getting hurt in the process. If you had just gone to a teacher, those boys would’ve been reprimanded without you having to get hurt.”

“They would not have been reprimanded-”

“Okay, fine, they probably wouldn’t have been seriously reprimanded without any solid evidence,” she concedes. “But that doesn’t mean you should go through these kinds of things alone. Your friends were worried sick about you. And I…” Her voice cracks like delicate porcelain. “...I was worried sick about you.”

I gulp, finally feeling the weight of my actions. For years, everything I’ve done has only affected me. I never had to second guess anything. But things are different now. I have people around me that care about my well-being, which means all of my actions have some kind of effect on them. This whole thing sprouted from me wanting to protect a friend, but in the end, they got hurt because of me.

“I’m sorry, Minji. For being stupid and not talking to you and letting myself get hurt.”

She nods, offering an appreciative grin. “Next time something like this happens, just text me first so I can at least try to talk you out of it, okay?”

How could I ever say no to a face like that? “Okay.”

Minji’s smile widens, and like a mirror, I can feel my own lips curling to reflect her joy. She’s so… amazing, unreal even—like someone plucked a princess straight from a fairy tale and placed her right in front of me. Kind, caring, courteous, beautiful, strong, intelligent, absolutely perfect in every way possible that it almost feels unfair. I might be fated for nothing more than an early grave, but for once, I want to defy fate and entertain the possibility that something good could happen to me. Maybe Minji is the good thing that happened to me, and maybe, just maybe, there is a future where me and her… y’know.

A whole minute passes before I realize that neither of us have stopped staring at each other. Something in my head clicks. I find myself leaning in, inch by inch, closer to Minji’s lips, just like I’ve done many times in my dreams - But this time, it’s real. Her breath dances against my skin, making my cells tingle in anticipation. Something in her expression shifts. Her eyes widen slightly, flickering downwards every so often, but she doesn’t pull away, even after my intentions become crystal clear. She opens her mouth as if to say something, a protest maybe, but no sound comes out except for her shivering breath. My heart pounds in my ears like a warning alarm telling me to stop. “This is a bad idea, Yuno! What are you doing!?” Yet I continue onward until the tension is palpable. So close, I can almost taste it-

The door to the nurse’s office swings open. “Oh good, you’re both awake!”

Minji and I jump to opposite sides of the cot, my face burning hotter than the sun. The nurses waltzes in with another kid sporting a gross vomit stain on his shirt, tossing any kind of sentiment I had mere moments ago out the window. My heart chugs with the force of a speeding bullet train; it’s a miracle I haven’t succumbed to a heart attack by now.

“U-um, I should, um…” Minji stutters frantically, her eyes darting everywhere but in my direction. If it’s any consolation, I feel too overwhelmed to look at anywhere except the floor. She hurries out of the nurse’s office without uttering another word.

“What’s up with her?” The nurse asks. I’m too busy freaking out to even register her question properly.

WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST TRY TO DO!?

___________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

Oh my god. Oh… my god. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. My god. OH. MY. GOD. OMGOMGOMGOMGOGMOMGOMGOMGOMGM-

“Minj? Are you alright?”

I jump in my seat, my gaze flying wildly around me. “H-huh?”

Hanni and Haerin exchange odd glances as they take their seats on either side of me. “Girl, what’s wrong with you?” Hanni asks, her eyebrow raised in concern.

“I-I’m fine, just working on prom stuff like usual.” That’s only somewhat of a lie: after getting permission to excuse myself from the rest of the day’s classes, I came into the student council room with the intent to work on prom stuff to get my mind off of… that. However, I ended up spending the last hours of the school day staring at my blank computer screen while my mind spirals out of control. “Where’s Danielle and Hyein?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Home stuff,” Hanni answers, sliding an iced coffee towards me. “Are you sure you’re fine? You look… shaky.”

“It’s probably just stress, you know how I’ve been lately,” I awkwardly chuckle. Caffeine is probably the last thing that I need right now, yet I take a sip to keep up appearances. Haerin’s cold, analyzing glare seems to notice this.

“Mmm…” She grumbles to herself, her gaze never leaving mine as she takes a notebook from her backpack and starts to scribble in it. Haerin always had a knack for knowing things before they happen, but not even she could’ve possibly known about the nurse’s office… right?

“Ugh, all this talk about prom is making me sick,” Hanni groans. “Spending over $1000 on hair, makeup, a dress, and a limo, all for what? Three hours of some sweaty boy’s hands on my waist? I think I’ll pass.”

“You can think that, but some people wait their entire lives for this one magical night, I just want to make sure everyone has fun,” I reason.

“Pfft, you just want to slow dance with your little boyfriend, Yuno.”

The shock from her words makes me choke on my drink, devolving into a mad coughing fit. “W-what?! N-no I don’t! He’s not my- shut up!” Hanni throws her head back in laughter, clearly amused by my near death experience at her hands.

With how insanely stressful prom preparations have been, the thought of procuring a date to the event never crossed my mind. At this point in the year, most people have found potential dates to take or a close group of friends to go with, with Danielle, Hanni, and I falling into the latter. All this time, I never even thought what prom would be like for myself. I’ve seen it all the time in movies and TV shows: the main character boy asks the hot cheerleader girl to prom, they slow dance together to a popular song fitting of the time, they kiss, credits roll. A simple, predictable formula riddled with a mess of cliches, but one that many dream about for their own special night. But what did I want out of prom? Would he even- Nevermind, I can’t even think clearly about that right now.

Haerin tosses her notebook over to me. “I drew this,” she states.

I peer down at her drawing, growing more confused with each second. It seems to depict some kind of misshapen blob and a… girl? I think? They’re sitting on some kind of bench really close together. Haerin never showed any interest in the arts before this, so why would she be into drawing all of a sudden?

“Um, it’s nice? I think? What is it supposed to be?” I ask.

“It’s you kissing a shadow monster.”

My arm lurches wildly to the side, inadvertently tossing her notebook across the room. Does she know? How does she know!? She wasn’t there, right? Right!?

“That wasn’t very nice, Minj,” Hanni chides, picking the notebook off the ground. “I think it’s very unique and has a lot of character. She even got your ponytail right. Good job, Kitty Kang.” She pats Haerin’s head, bringing a pleased smile out of her, yet her eyes stay glued to me like a predator stalking its prey. I’m starting to wonder if she ever even blinks.

“Sorry, Haerin, I just feel out of it today. It’s a, uh… lovely drawing,” I sigh, resting my head onto my palm.

“Yah, you’re bumming me out, Minj. Let’s do something fun instead of all this prom garbage. Karaoke?” Hanni suggests. They both look at me expectantly, which only makes my answer even more painful.

“I would love to, especially today out of all days, but I have to prepare for a banquet tomorrow.”

“A banquet? You never told us about that. Ooh, can we come?” Hanni pleads, flashing her big eyes and pouty lips.

“I, um… It’s for my family’s business. They said I couldn’t invite anyone, sorry.” Oh god. Lying to my parents is one thing, but lying to my best friends? The people I trust more than anybody in the entire world? My own words leave a bitter taste in my mouth, more bitter than the strongest black coffee. But what am I supposed to tell them? That I invited Yu- him instead of my own closest friends? Even if his presence serves some kind of purpose, I still can’t imagine how they would react if I told them I basically chose a boy over them. No matter how I try to justify it, it still feels wrong.

“Aww,” Hanni pouts. While she’s distracted, I notice Haerin picking up her notebook and pointing at the “shadow monster” in her drawing with a scrutinizing squint. I try to ignore her, keeping a straight face, but it’s becoming more clear that she knows something’s up.

“I’ll make it up to you guys some other time,” I say, gathering my things. “Next time we go to karaoke, I’ll pay for everything, snacks, drinks, whatever, alright?”

“Woo! I won’t say no to that!” Hanni cheers, skipping out of the student council room. I get up to follow her, but a tug on my sleeve stops me. Haerin stares at me blankly, unblinking, for what feels like forever. It’s normally hard to read her, but especially now when my mind has been in a constant whirlwind for the last couple hours, all I can come to are a few thousand anxiety-ridden conclusions. She suddenly moves her hand upwards with the focused intensity of a cat, waving it around before finally landing her index finger on the middle of my forehead.

“U-um, Haerin, what are you-”

“You’re overthinking things. Go with your gut,” she states before putting her notebook back into her bag like nothing ever happened.

“What are you talking about-”

“If you’re not gonna admit it to us, at least admit it to yourself. It’s not healthy to keep things bottled up, you’re barely floating as it is.” Haerin goes up to the door, stopping to look back at me. “Are you coming with us or not?”

“O-oh, right, yeah.” I can barely process her words as I follow the two of them off campus. What does she mean by “overthinking”? I’m not overthinking, I’m thinking a perfectly healthy amount. I just have a lot on my plate, so there’s a lot I need to think about. That’s not overthinking, that’s just… thinking a lot. I need to be thinking a lot, or else I run the risk of letting a ton of people down. My parents, the entire student body, my friends. Once I get a quiet moment to myself, I’ll be fine. Right? Right?

______________________________________________________________

I kick off my shoes by the front door, ready to land face first into my bed and turn off my brain for a couple hours. Unfortunately, fate has other plans for me.

“Minji! Welcome home, dear!” My mom announces from the living room, her tone a bit too cheerful to not raise any immediate red flags. “How was school?”

I fight back an exhausted sigh. “It was fine, Mother. I’m just gonna go up to my room and-”

“Oh, well don’t go upstairs yet! The Parks are here, come say hello!”

The Parks are what!? My eyes shoot up, scanning the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Park sit on the sofa, offering me kind smiles. But if they’re here, does that mean-

“Minji! Long time no see!” My worst nightmare rounds the corner with my father in tow, laughing like they’re old buddies or something. My skin crawls as he walks towards me with his arm spread out like he’s about to hug me. I wanna run and hide, but I’m too terrified to move. In the end, all I can do is try not to vomit on his shoulder as he wraps me up in an awkward hug.

Is this real? Surely this isn’t real, right? Maybe this is all just some sick nightmare and I’m still sleeping in the nurse’s office. Please let this be just a nightmare.

“Cat got your tongue or something?” He jokes, finally releasing me from his grasp.

“Sunghoon, it’s uh… good to see you.”

Father walks up and clasps his hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Sunghoon was just telling me that he’s considering transferring over Evergreen for the rest of the school year. Isn’t that great, Minji?”

“He WHAT!?”

Everyone turns to look at me, shock and concern written all over their faces. “I-I mean what a great surprise! That’s just… so, so, sooo great to hear,” I say through bared teeth. “I have an, uh, important test tomorrow that I need to study for, so I’m just gonna go up to my room and-”

“Why don’t you bring Sunghoon with you, dear?” Mother suggests, oblivious to the fact that she’s slowly destroying my life. “It’ll give you two time to catch up without us adults getting in the way.”

I muster up the most convincing smile I can and say, “S-sure. That would be great. Just… great.”

I stomp up the stairs to my room with Sunghoon in tow, immediately collapsing onto my bed without giving him a second thought.

“Your room is nice,” he says, shutting the door behind him and effectively taking away my only way of escape. Maybe there’s some soft bushes I can land on if I jump out the window. If not, at least death seems more favorable than being stuck in here with the worst human being alive.

“Mhm,” I mutter, half-listening to whatever he has to say.

Sunghoon paces around my room, looking around at my posters and my desk before picking up Mr. Bear from my bed. “I see you’re still into teddy bears,” he chuckles to himself.

“Put that down!” I grab Mr. Bear from his grasp and glare coldly at him, causing him to back off with his hands up.

“Alright, it’s clear that there’s still some bitterness so I might as well just go ahead and address the elephant in the room: I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we were kids. I was an immature little brat and I should’ve treated you better. Will you forgive me?”

That was… surprisingly mature. Did the original Sunghoon die in an accident and got replaced by a nicer clone? Does he have an illegitimate twin brother that replaced him and took his name after Mr. and Mrs. Park realized how much of a gremlin their son is? Any of those explanations seem more plausible than Sunghoon actually maturing.

“Uh… sure, I guess,” I say, still weirded about this sudden revelation. He grins at me, sitting next to me on the bed. “Um, I’m sorry for yelling. It’s been a, uh… long day.”

“No worries, I deserved it.” Jeez, this new understanding side of Sunghoon is so off putting. If he acted like old self, at least that would be predictable. This feels like walking through uncharted territory without so much as a map or even a flashlight.

“Your mother told me that you’re inviting a friend to the banquet tomorrow,” he continues. “Some guy named Yuno. What’s he like?

“He’s…” Oh god, I can’t even think properly about him right now after what happened in the nurse’s office. I still haven’t been able to process my own feelings about it. What was he thinking? What was I thinking? I can’t even remember where my mind was during that whole thing, yet I can remember everything else so vividly; his warm breath dancing against my skin, his kind eyes peering into mine with so much care behind them, his soft lips inching closer and closer-

“Minji? Are you alright?” Sunghoon nudges my shoulder, taking me out of my impromptu trip down memory lane. I sink my face into Mr. Bear’s head, hiding the growing blush on my cheeks.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Like I said, long day,” I reason. “Um… He’s nice. A little shy, but he means well.”

“Are you sure you two are friends?” He chuckles at me. “It doesn’t seem like you know him very well.”

“We, uh, haven’t been friends very long,” I explain. As weird as it is, Yuno and I have only known each other a couple of days, yet it feels like so much longer than that. Now that I think about it, we’ve run into each other everyday since we met, even on the weekend. For the past three years of attending the same high school, he’s been nothing but a body walking through the hall or the utterance of a name whenever he stirred up trouble, but now, we’re so intertwined in each other’s lives like he’s been there from the start. Without him, I probably would’ve gotten attacked by that drunk man and I never would’ve gotten over my fear of spiders. His presence has become so integral to my life, I can’t imagine him not being there in some way.

“Do you like him?” Sunghoon asks suddenly, glancing at me.

I… I don’t know. I don’t know what to think or feel about him. He is a part of my life, but I just… I don’t know. “As a friend, yeah,” I utter, unsure of the words coming out of my own mouth.

He nods, grinning to himself. “Good.”

“What do you mean ‘good’?” My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Oh, nothing, just, uh… thinking out loud.” He gets up from my bed and walks towards the door. “I’ll let you study for your test now, I’d hate to interfere with your academics. See ya tomorrow, Minji.”

“Yeah, see ya…” He shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Instead of getting up and doing something productive to distract myself, all I can do is lie there and stare at the ceiling, wondering when everything became so complicated.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

“Yuno, are you okay? You’re blanking out again,” Winter says.

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little headache.”

Honestly, I would prefer it if it was just a little headache rather than the fucking tornado that’s been running rampant through my mind. During the entire walk from the school to the convenience store, all I could do was stare at the ground and let my legs blindly follow behind Winter and Yujin. Hell, I barely even noticed we came to the convenience store until just now.

“Shouldn’t you go to the doctor? You don’t look very good,” Yujin says.

“I’ve been through worse.” Both of them still stare at me, unconvinced of my wellbeing. “I’ll feel better after I sleep it off, alright? You guys don’t have to worry about me.”

“How can we not worry about you, you got hurt b-because of me…” Winter’s voice falters as tears begin to well within her eyes.

“Ah jeez. Look, I…” My mind wanders back to what Minji said to me in the nurse’s office before I did… that: But that doesn’t mean you should go through these kinds of things alone. Your friends were worried sick about you.

“I’m sorry. To both of you. I should’ve let you two know what was going on instead of running in alone and letting myself get hurt. It won’t happen again, okay? I’m done fighting,” I say. Both of them look up at me in surprise.

“So no more Super Yuno?” Yujin asks.

“Uh yeah. No more, uh, ‘Super Yuno’.” If there’s a silver lining in any of this, it’s definitely getting rid of that ridiculous nickname.

“Hmm…” Yujin’s gaze falls to the ground in contemplation. “When superheroes in comic books get hurt, they usually have some kind of healing factor or revival ability that helps them get back up no matter how much damage they take. But you…” He looks up at me, his own eyes glossy with sorrow. “...You’re real. You don’t have any superpowers to help you. It was really scary seeing you not wake up, Yuno. I-I don’t… I don’t want to see you get hurt anymore.”

“Me neither,” Winter adds.

The three of us sit in silence with nothing but the crickets and the gentle howl of the passing breeze to let us know the world is still moving. The weight of their words sink deeper into me, making me feel even more guilty for my lack of consideration. Things are different now. I can’t act like I’m still living the same life I was a couple days ago, and frankly, I don’t want to go back to that life of solitude and pain. I need to change for the better. For me. For my dad. For my friends. For Min… For her.

I clap Yujin on the back, ruffling his hair. “You guys won’t have to see me get hurt anymore, alright? I really am done fighting.”

Winter smiles at me, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Yujin chuckles.

My lips form into a grin, a feeling I’m starting to get used to. “But if anyone messes with either of you, I don’t mind coming out of retirement for a little bit.”

The sounds of their laughter float with the wind, carried wherever fate takes them. I always viewed fate as cruel and unyielding, rendering our sense of choice to nothing but dust. But every once in a while, it’ll surprise me with something new, not necessarily good or bad, just different. This, however, is good. Unequivocally good. It can be convoluted and annoying at times, but still good.

“How’s the student council president?” Winter asks, making my shoulders tense up suddenly.

“Oh yeah, she looked really worried about you. Danielle told me that she’s never seen her act like that before,” Yujin says.

My gaze drifts to the side, unable to meet their eyes. “U-uh, she’s fine. We talked. We’re, uh, cool.” I can’t even imagine how she must be feeling right now after I did all that. What am I supposed to say to her? Do I just pretend like nothing happened? That I didn’t just try to kiss her? OUT OF NOWHERE? I clutch my head as I devolve into another tumultuous storm of uncertainty and anxiety. I need to get this feeling out of me. I need to… I…

“I almost kissed her,” I blurt out. Winter and Yujin’s jaws drop in utter shock at my confession. My entire face burns with shame, but my soul feels lighter now that I finally acknowledged it.

“Uh, what do you mean almost?” Winter asks after several seconds of stunned silence.

“I-I, uh… Fuck…” I inhale deeply, steadying my breath. “We were just talking and then suddenly her face was really close and I kinda just… leaned in… uh…” The more I blabber, the warmer my entire body feels, yet going back and reliving that moment so clearly feels oddly nice in a way. Instead of it being a dream, it was real. I almost got to see what happens at the end of that dream instead of waking up in my bed.

Both of them lean in with amused smirks, completely intrigued by my stupid little accident. “Do you like her?” Winter asks.

“Y-yeah, I do. A lot.”

“Aw, look at him, he’s blushing,” Yujin teases.

I turn my head, hiding my face into my hands. “Sh-shut up…”

“I think it’s very cute that you have a crush on her. Minji seems like a really nice girl,” Winter says, amused. “Are you gonna ask her out to prom?”

“I, uh… I don’t know.”

“Why not? I think you should go for it if you really like her.”

“I don’t know how she feels about me. I mean, I know she thinks of us as friends, but more than that…” I sigh, my shoulders slumping towards the ground. “Minji has a lot going for her, and I’m just me.”

“How did she react when you almost kissed her?” Yujin asks.

“She, uh… She ran out of the room in a panic.”

Both of them turn to each other in contemplation. “Well, that could mean anything,” Winter says. “Regardless of what you think she feels, you should ask her out or else you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life. I didn’t think Karina would ever like me, but look where we’re at now.”

“Yeah, Yuno!” Yujin adds. “We’ll even help you with your promposal! I can make posters and-”

“N-no!” I interject. “No posters. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. I already know what people think of me, so to put that kind of attention on her would be cruel.”

Amused smirks grow on their faces as they exchange knowing glances at each other. “That was really sweet, Yuno,” Winter says, gushing.

On second thought, maybe it’s better if I didn’t tell them all of this; God knows I won’t hear the end of it for the next week. But as I look at the sincerity in their smiles, a warm feeling stirs within me. Maybe it’s better I did.

______________________________________________________________

My hand rests on the doorknob of my home, frozen by the impending dread of having to come clean and explain the sudden influx of cuts and bruises marking my body. If he’s going to be in my life again, he’ll have to deal with the fact that I made and will continue to make really shitty mistakes. I just hope I’m able to learn from them every once in a while.

With a deep breath, I enter my home to find him sitting alone at the dining table, his leg bouncing restlessly as he stares blankly at nothing. All the lights in the house are off, save for the single one floating right above him, creating an ominous tension that blasts me from the doorway.

“Uh, hey, Dad.”

“Yuno!” I expected anger, disappointment, maybe even disgust, but instead I’m met with relief as he walks over to me, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Your principal called me earlier, I was worried sick about you. Are you okay?

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I thought I would get tired of reiterating for the umpteenth time that I’m fine, but having people around me that care enough to worry gives me this tingling feeling in my chest. It feels… nice, actually.

“Are you getting bullied at school?” He asks worriedly.

“No, it’s nothing like that. It was just a stupid fight.” Some could argue that I’m the bully at the school, and maybe they’re right, but at least I pick on people that deserve it instead of defenseless underclassmen.

“Do you need me to take you to the hospital or something?”

“I’m fine, I’ve been through worse. Just need a little rest,” I say. He begins to speak, but stops and sighs instead.

“Alright. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?” I nod. “I trust you know how to take care of yourself by now, but I’m always gonna be here if you need me.” He walks over to the kitchen and pours himself a cup of water, but instead stares pensively at it, watching his reflection in the cup.

“Actually, I could use a ride after school tomorrow,” I say. “I was, uh, invited to a banquet.”

He looks up from the cup, his brow raised in curiosity. “Really? What for?”

“Minji - the girl you met at the mall - she invited me,” I explain.

My dad smirks, finally showing a positive emotion for the first time since I got home. “Sure thing, I can drive you.”

“Thanks, dad.” I grin at him before heading upstairs to my room.

The easy parts are over. I apologized to Winter and Yujin, and accidentally let my feelings for Minji slip out. I talked to my dad and he seemed to take things better than I thought he would. Now there’s just one person left I have to talk to, arguably the most important I need to talk to: Minji.

I stare at my phone, my eyes rereading our previous texts over and over again. Should I call her? What would I even say? Even texting her seems like an impossible feat at this point. After she freaked out and ran out of the nurse’s office, I’ve been struggling to think of how I should address the incident. Hell, I’ve been struggling on how I should feel about it myself. I did, technically, want it to happen, but couldn’t I have chosen a more opportune moment to do it? Y’know, like after knowing for sure what she feels about me? God, I’m a fucking idiot.

To add salt to the wound, I end up going for the coward’s way out, typing up a message that avoids the issue entirely because acting like everything is fine is surely the best course of action.

Yuno: Hi. What should I wear to the banquet? And what’s the address?

Feelings are so exhausting.

______________________________________________________________

Compared to how “eventful” yesterday was, Tuesday went by in the blink of an eye. The weird stares were still there, even more so thanks to my injuries, and Tyler’s group of friends in English class seemed to be down a couple of guys. Not my problem, less trouble for me and it’s not like I even hit any of them. Minji never responded to the text I sent last night. To make matters worse, every time I saw her in the hallway, she avoided eye contact completely and ran the opposite direction. If she told me that what I did was disgusting and to never talk to her again, I would at least understand, but to avoid me completely when I’m literally going to a banquet with her feels like cruel and unusual punishment.

I sigh, banging my head into my locker. Not the greatest decision given my condition, but I don’t give a shit anymore. I just want the girl I like to talk to me.

“Is she still avoiding you?” Winter asks from next to me.

“Yeah,” I utter sadly. “Maybe I messed up. Maybe she doesn’t want to be friends anymore.”

Yujin pats my shoulder in support. “Don’t worry about it, Yuno, you’ll get a chance to talk to her eventually. Didn’t you say you were going to that banquet with her tonight? You can talk to her then!”

“She hasn’t even given me the address, how am I supposed to get there?” I reason. “Maybe this is her way of telling me not to come.”

Winter and Yujin exchange worried glances while I lean against my locker, thinking about everything and nothing. Is this what it feels like to have something good ripped away from you all of a sudden? It sucks. It fucking sucks. Part of me wishes I never met Minji in the first place just so I never have to feel like this.

Just then, Minji’s tall friend walks past, offering a polite wave. What’s her name again? It starts with an H… Not Hanni… Harry… Halsey… Hyemi…

“Hyein!” I call out, rushing over to her.

“Hello, Minji’s friend!” She says. “What’s up?”

“Have you talked to Minji at all today?”

“Of course I have!” She smiles like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Why?”

“Has she, um, said anything about me?” I may sound feeble and desperate, but that’s because I am. If Minji hates my guts, then I need to know, or else I’m gonna be walking around like a hopeless idiot.

“Hmm… No, I don’t think she’s said anything about you.”

“Oh…” I hang my head, completely dejected. Not only did I get any new information, but now her friends are gonna think I’m a weirdo. “Well, next time you see her, can you ask her to check her texts? She hasn’t given me a response yet.”

“Why can’t you tell her yourself? Did something happen between you two?” Hyein squints at me.

“N-no! I mean…” You tried to kiss her, you dumbass. “...maybe. I don’t know. Can you tell her that I want to talk? Please.”

“Hmm…” She studies my expression with an intense glare. “Okay, but I can’t promise anything. Whatever you did must’ve upset her a lot if she’s not talking to you all of a sudden.” I sigh, feeling my heart being ripped out of my chest. “Yeah, I figured. Thanks.” With my gaze fixed on the ground, I trudge back to my locker where Winter and Yujin are waiting. I wanna bash my head into the metal door so I can stop feeling like this, but I can’t even muster up the energy to do that. If only I didn’t catch a stupid crush on her.

A stupid, hopeless, foolish crush.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. I feel like a robot running through a constant cycle to maintain peak productivity. I’ve accomplished so much in the day that I don’t even have time to think about anything else. With prom slowly approaching, my continuous cycle of work will eventually pay off and everyone will finally be happy.

The door to the student council room clicks open, but I don’t even flinch. Eyes are glued to the screen, typing up emails and researching venues until calluses form on my fingers.

“Uh, Minji?” I hear Danielle’s voice ask. “What are you doing in here with the lights off?”

Oh right. The lights are off. I didn’t even notice. The bluelight from my laptop has burned itself into my retinas. Even when I blink, all I see is the screen.

“Just working,” I mutter.

“Hey, girl,” Hanni says, concern laced in her tone. “We got you an iced coffee if you want it.”

“Thanks.” I take a sip, the caffeine having an immediate effect on me like adding coal to the furnace of a speeding steam train. Email sent. New tab opened up. Check notification. Look at potential venues. Don’t think. Just work.

A hand slams my laptop shut. “Hey! What are you-” I look up for the first time to see all of my friends looking down at me with worry all over their faces.

“I told you keeping things bottled up isn’t healthy,” Haerin states, her hand holding my laptop closed.

��W-what are you talking about?” I ask, annoyed. “Can’t you see I’m trying to work!?”

“Minj, look at yourself! This isn’t just stress anymore, you look like a zombie!” Hanni exclaims.

I scoff, rubbing my hands over my face. “I’m fine, I’m just working on prom like usual. Haerin, give me back my-” I reach for my laptop, but Haerin snatches it away. “Haerin, what are you doing!? I’m in the middle of something important!”

“Minji, what is going on with you?” Danielle asks in a calm yet concerned tone. “You’ve been acting weird ever since yesterday.”

I feel like my head is about to explode. What are they not understanding!? Of course I’m going to be mad, they just took away my laptop! If anything, they’re acting weird! “I told you guys, I’m fine-”

“Is this about what happened between you and Yuno?” Hyein asks from the corner of the room. My gaze shoots towards her. Her hands are trembling by her sides like leaves in a heavy storm, barely holding onto the branch they’re a part of. Tears threaten to burst from her eyes. She’s scared, terrified. Of me.

My legs give out from underneath me as my vision becomes blurry with tears. A blanket of warmth covers me as the girls hold me in their gentle embrace. I don’t deserve them. I’ve been lying and keeping secrets from them, and now I yelled at them. All for what? A boy? Have I lost sight of what really matters in my life just because I think I have feelings for someone?

It takes a while for me to come down from the overwhelming wave of emotions. By the time my tears stop, I find myself surrounded by my friends’ caring gazes. The four people I trust most in the world, but also the ones I need to apologize to.

“I-I’m sorry guys,” I begin. “I know I said I’ve been stressed, but that doesn’t excuse my outburst. You guys don’t deserve to be yelled at like that.”

Hanni tenderly brushes my hair with her fingers, letting me rest my head on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Minj, we know you didn’t mean it. We’re just really worried about you.”

“Yeah,” Danielle adds. “It’s clear that this isn’t just about prom anymore.”

“What did Yuno do to you?” Hyein asks.

“He didn’t, um…” I take a deep breath, steadying my heartbeat. “When he got into that fight yesterday, it really scared me. Seeing him pass out like that, I thought he was d… gone. It felt like I couldn’t breathe properly until I knew he was alright. All I could think about was ‘Why did this have to happen to him? It’s so unfair. He doesn’t deserve this at all’. When Yuno finally woke up, it was like… everything felt right again. I was so relieved. And then I looked into his eyes and thought ‘I never want to see you get hurt again’. And I…” My cheeks start to burn as my voice falters. The girls begin to stare at me with intrigue, waiting for me to finish my sentence.

“I-I… I almost kissed him.”

The room fills with collective gasps as each of them freeze in shock. I bury my face into Hanni’s shoulder, each passing second of silence making me feel even more embarrassed.

“W-what do you mean almost?” Danielle asks, the most disturbed out of the four of them.

“The nurse came in before we could, uh… finish,” I say, my voice muffled by Hanni’s shirt.

“OH. MY. GOD.” Hanni squeals. “Girl, tell us everything! Who initiated? What did he say to you? Did he go right or left-” Haerin clasps her hand over Hanni’s mouth, shaking her head disapprovingly. Thank god, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve taken her questions.

“Is that why you were avoiding him all day?” Hyein asks. I sigh, nodding sadly.

“Every time I saw him, I panicked and ran away like an idiot,” I admit. “I don’t know what to think or how to feel.”

“Do you like him?”

I stare at the ground in contemplation, thinking about the past few days with Yuno. Despite what others think of him, he’s proven himself to be kind hearted and loyal, oftentimes putting his friends above his own well being. He’s saved me countless times, never once asking for any sort of recompense, and he’s shown that he’s willing to change for the better, even if it might go against his own ideas of justice. Yuno is a good guy, a great friend, and…

“Yeah,” I nod. “I think I do like him.”

“You think?” Danielle asks, unconvinced.

“I don’t know, I’ve never had a crush on anybody before.”

“Minj, that is so cute!” Hanni chimes. “You should ask him to prom!”

“Shouldn’t he ask me…?”

Haerin shakes her head. “It’s 2024, subjecting yourself to outdated ideals will only leave you disappointed. Get with the times, grandma.”

I side-eye her, grimacing at her insult. “Whatever. I don’t even know if he feels the same and I’d rather not do something drastic to ruin our friendship.”

“But you’ll never know if you don’t try,’ Hanni says. “You’re gonna regret it if you don’t tell him how you feel.”

“I know, but I can’t just rush into something like this without thinking first,” I argue. “Besides, I’m busy with a thousand things right now, I don’t even think I have time for a relationship.”

Danielle takes my hand in hers, looking me in the eye. “You should do what makes you happy, Minji. I mean, look what happened when you bottled up everything inside and put other people’s feelings above your own. Forget everyone else right now and focus on your own happiness for once.”

“But-”

“No buts,” she snaps. “I can get the other student council members to pick up the slack on prom preparations, so go out, have fun, and date a stupid boy. And if he hurts you, then you have the four of us to fall back on.” The others nod in agreement, smiling brightly at me.

“Thanks, guys.” I quickly clap my hands over my eyes in an attempt to stop another onslaught of tears. “God, I feel like I’m gonna cry again.”

“Aww, you big softie,” Hanni says. “Come here.”

The four of them pull me into a warm group hug that melts all my worries away. Honest to God, I don’t know what I would do without them. These girls are like my own little life raft, keeping me afloat even when I fall overboard.

I take out my phone and send a text that I should have sent ages ago.

Yuno: Hi. What should I wear to the banquet? And what’s the address?

Minji: hey :) just wear something nice! the address is 0507 Ador Ln. don’t be late, there’s something i want to talk to you about.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, checking if my outfit is okay for the millionth time. “just wear something nice!” she says, yet the only nice clothes I have are some light blue jeans and the bear sweater that I bought on a whim. I’m not sure if “nice” is how I would describe this outfit, but I don’t exactly have any other alternatives.

I would be lying if I said her text didn’t make my heart feel so much lighter. It doesn’t matter how stupid I look as long as I finally get to clear things up with her. Not being able to talk to her at all for the past day has been complete hell, I wouldn’t wish the feeling on my worst enemy. Yet, a part of me feels downright terrified. What is she gonna say to me? Will we still be friends after this? I’ll have to hold onto this dreadful suspense until I see her, and probably even longer depending on how the banquet goes. Hopefully we can get over this quickly so I can finally breathe normally.

My dad knocks on the bathroom, peeking his head through the open door. “You ready to go?” He asks.

“Yeah, uh…” I pause, awkwardly looking at the ground. “Do I look okay?”

He chuckles at me, patting my shoulder. “You look great. I’m sure she’ll like it.”

I take one last look at myself in the mirror before heading out to the car, my heartbeat ringing in my ears as we head to the banquet.

Naturally, the banquet takes place on the far side of the town where all the rich people live. Grandiose buildings line the streets as opposed to the regular suburban houses I’m used to, larger and shinier than anything I’ve ever seen, their opulence almost blinding under the streetlights. Even my dad looked impressed, staring at all the different houses that we could never dream of affording. All of this only serves as a reminder that I don’t belong in this world and never will. To Minji, this is just another Tuesday for her. I sigh, the pit in my stomach growing deeper and deeper.

The banquet hall sits atop a hill overlooking the town as if it's looking down on everyone else with disgust. As we drive up to the building, the frequency of luxury cars increases, making our car look like garbage on wheels in comparison. The closer we get, the more I’m starting to regret my decision to come along. A few guests are talking outside, dressed in their finest tailored suits and elegant gowns. I look down at the bear on my sweater with shame. I didn’t want to stand out, yet I’m basically wearing a giant sign that says “look at me, I’m an idiot.”

Near the entrance, I spot Minji wearing a stunning black dress that compliments her natural beauty. Simple yet sophisticated… And I’m wearing this god damn bear sweater. Maybe it’s not too late to turn around and go back home. I’ll tell her my body started hurting all of a sudden and I can’t move and-

“Hey,” my dad says, patting my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Go have fun.”

I nod, taking one more deep breath before stepping out of the car. “A-alright. Uh, thanks for giving me a ride.”

He smiles at me. “Of course. Text me when you want to leave and I’ll come right away. Bye, Yuno.” I watch as the car disappears down the hill, leaving me completely stranded with no way of escaping. All I can do is face this head on, like I’ve always done.

With each step I take towards Minji, my heart beat rings louder and louder in my ears. The gnawing insecurity in the pit of my stomach makes it hard to breathe, yet I continue forward towards the impossibly beautiful girl that I’ve fallen completely in love with. Her black hair flows like waves curling from a waterfall, light and airy, as she exudes an air of elegance and grace. If I survived a beating from a group of guys, then I can survive this one night. For her.

“Min-”

“Hey Minji!” A loud voice calls out from behind me. The source of the voice, a tall guy wearing a sophisticated suit, walks over to her and pulls her into a hug. My blood immediately begins to boil with rage. Who the fuck is this guy!?

“You look great! How are you doing?” I hear him ask her.

“U-uh, thanks, I’m fine, um…” Minji spots me, her face lighting up instantly. “Yuno!” I do my best to hide the growing smirk as he looks back at me with bewilderment.

“H-hey. Hi,” I say to her.

“I’m glad you could make it,” she replies, smiling at me. God, I missed that smile. I missed hearing her voice. It’s only been a day, but it feels nice to finally talk to her again.

“Um, hello? Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your friend, Minji?” The tall guy says. He must be the one Minji was warning me about, I can already tell he gives off a pompous energy.

“Ah right. Yuno, this is Sunghoon, Sunghoon, this is my friend from school, Yuno,” Minji says.

“What’s up, man?” Sunghoon reaches his hand out towards me, which I nearly shake before realizing I still have the gauze wrapped around my hand. “Oh damn, what happened to your hand? Are you some kind of fighter or something?” He jokes. Minji gives me an apologetic look while I simply shake my head.

“Cooking accident. I’m fine,” I say, lowering my hand.

“That sucks, man, uh…” He looks down at my sweater, his lips widening into an amused smirk. “Cool sweater, man, where’d you get it? Balenciaga? Armani? Target?” he chides, laughing at his own shitty joke. I shoot a glare at him which makes him shut up pretty quickly.

“I’m just joking man, jeez,” he says. “I’m gonna head inside, Minji. I’ll get us a good table.” Sunghoon winks at her before walking off towards the building, leaving me and Minji alone finally.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry about him, Yuno,” Minji apologizes.

“It’s fine.” I gaze into her eyes for the first time since arriving, my heart skipping a beat as I got lost in the deep browns of her irises. The stars reflect off of them, containing the beauty of an entire galaxy right in front of me. “U-um, is this sweater okay? I, uh, didn’t really have any nice clothes to wear,” I blabber awkwardly.

“It’s, uh… It’s cute,” she says, her face lighting up as she looks at the bear. “Aw, he’s wearing little overalls. It’s like he’s a little farmer bear.”

I turn my head, quietly giggling to myself. How can someone look so ethereal, yet act so adorable? “Oh right, you said you wanted to talk to me about something,” I say, fixing my expression.

“Oh, um… Uh…” Her gaze nervously shifts side to side as she messes with her fingers. “Can we, uh, talk about that later? My parents are probably waiting for me inside.”

I sigh, disappointed but also understanding. “Okay, that’s fine.”

She offers an apologetic look before leading the way into the building. As we walk through the doors, my jaw hits the floor from utter shock and awe. The banquet hall is a giant room adorned with pillars of flowers and a giant golden chandelier hanging overhead, illuminating the room with a brilliant light. Fancy-looking tables are spread out throughout the room, seating even fancier-looking people, laughing and sipping from skinny glasses of champagne as they talk. The looks I get from school are a little annoying, but bearable enough - They’re all just kids trying not to get into any trouble that I’m usually a part of - but being in this room, looked down upon by these people is a different beast entirely. Instead of being viewed as some scary monster that could act up at any moment, it feels like they’re scorning at me like a rat that wandered into the wrong place. It’s like Minji’s mom times a thousand in here.

“Are you okay, Yuno?” Minji asks, lightly grabbing onto my sleeve with a worried look.

“I-I’m fine,” I assure her. Before she can say anything else, an older man walks up to her, smiling.

“Minji! How are you doing, dear?” He says.

“Hello, Mr. Park! I’m doing well, how are you?” She replies, seamlessly slipping into a more professional tone.

“I’m doing great, of course. It’s great to be doing business with your parents.” He looks towards me, his face subtly shifting into that of disdain. “Who’s your friend here, Minji?”

“This is Yuno, he’s my friend from school.”

“H-hello, sir.” I reach out to shake his hand only to be met with a confused expression as he stares down at my gauze-covered hand. Sheepishly, I retract it, my gaze falling to the ground in embarrassment.

“Right… Well, my wife is probably wondering where I am and I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting,” Mr. Park says, not even glancing at me. “Good bye, Minji.”

I sigh dejectedly as he walks off, both grateful that he’s gone and annoyed at myself for not making a better first impression. “That was… awful,” I mutter.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Minji soothes. “On the bright side, you’ll never have to talk to him again after tonight.”

“I don’t know, Minji, maybe me being here is a mistak-”

“Oh!” She takes an empty glass from one of the tables and hands it to me. “Here, hold this.”

I take it from her, giving her a quizzical look. “What do you want me to do with this?”

“Just hold up this glass with your right hand and people won’t shake your hand anymore. Problem solved, right?”

She’s trying so hard for me. What a saint. I truly don’t deserve her. “Yeah, okay,” I nod, mustering up a smile. “Thanks.”

“No proble-”

“Ay, that’s where you guys are!” Sunghoon pops out of nowhere, wrapping his arm around Minji. It’s taking every fiber of my being not to knock his lights out right now. “I was wondering where you two were.”

Minji pushes his arm off of her, side-eyeing him with contempt. “We were just talking,” she states.

“Well, I’m sure there’s a lot of people that would love to get to know Yuno. Isn’t that right, man?” Sunghoon firmly grasps my shoulder, pushing me towards a larger crowd of people culminating in the middle of the room. I could kill him if I want to (and I do want to), but with Minji here, I’m left at the mercy at whatever the hell this rich fuck plans to do. Whatever. I can survive talking to old people for a little bit.

The next hour crawls along as I’m swept through countless bouts of small talk with increasingly important people, constantly bombarded with questions that I don’t have the answer to.

“What are your plans after high school?”

“What university are you thinking of attending?”

“Have you started on your college admission papers?”

Minji and Sunghoon handled everything with ease, accustomed to the talk like they’re fluent in a second language, whereas I was barely floating by. Overwhelmed doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt. Minji tried her best to help me out, but with an abundance of other people talking to her, her plate was already full as it was.

Finally, after another uncomfortable conversation with a woman that didn’t even try to hide her disapproval, I found myself on the outer rim of the conversation. Minji and Sunghoon were in the middle, keeping everyone distracted, giving me a chance to escape. I spot a door at the edge of the room leading towards the outside. I take one last look at Minji, feeling guilty for leaving her like this, before scurrying out the door.

Fresh air fills my lungs, a luxury I didn’t know I had until now. I scramble over towards the railing, letting myself breath for the first time in what feels like years. Getting another beating would be more favorable compared to the hell that I just went through inside. I don’t know how Minji does that on a regular basis, I could barely get a coherent word out the entire time.

I lean against the railing, watching the full moon float slowly above the town as I ponder whether or not me being here is a good idea. Maybe I should’ve just given Minji a lame excuse and stayed home. Like a dazzling star in the sky, it feels like all I can do is watch her from afar while I’m trapped by the gravity of my own miserable little planet, destined to fade into mediocrity as she illuminates the night sky with her light. A part of me wishes I never offered to walk her home in the rain just so I would never have to feel this pain. But I did and now I’m paying the price for it.

Isn’t it so tragic? To fall for someone that’s so close yet so far?

“There you are.”

The clacking of high heels against the concrete gets louder with each step as Minji walks up next to me. “I was worried you got lost or something. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answer, not quite meeting her gaze. Minji slumps against the railing next to me, watching the moon.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I invited you here for a selfish reason, and after that backfired, I thought I could salvage it, but all I did was make you uncomfortable.”

“Hey, it’s fi-”

“And I’m sorry for ignoring you all day,” she says, her gaze falling to the ground. “I should’ve just talked to you instead of running away like an idiot.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that she finally acknowledged it. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too, for, um… y’know.” Heat rises to my cheeks as I’m reminded of why we’re in this awkward spot in the first place. If I just kept my urges in check, neither of us would’ve felt like this.

“U-um, it’s okay, that’s partially my fault too anyways,” she says, chuckling nervously. Minji looks up at the moon and inhales deeply. “It’s really pretty tonight.” Something in my head shifts as she utters those words, and I’m suddenly hit with a wave of deja vu as Minji shifts from “The daughter of the founder of a highly esteemed multimillion dollar company” to “The girl who’s afraid of spiders and likes teddy bears and dreams of becoming a singer one day against her parents’ wishes”. The girl that I fell in love with.

I nod in agreement, but all my focus is on Minji, more beautiful than any celestial body could hope to be. The wind makes her long, black hair float and ebb like a stream of the finest silk, while the Milky Way traps itself in her irises, containing the beauty of an entire galaxy in just her eyes alone. She shivers as another gust of wind floats past, and I contemplate whether or not I should give her my sweater. I’m wearing a tank top underneath, so it’s not like I would be flashing her all of a sudden…

Without anymore hesitation, I take the sweater off my back and hand it to her. “U-uh, here. Y-you seem cold,” I stutter awkwardly.

“O-oh!” Her cheeks turn a bright pink as she eyes my upper body, her gaze flying back and forth. “Thanks, that’s very, um, sweet of you,” she says, wrapping the sweater over her shoulders.

“Y-yeah, no problem…”

We stand there in complete silence, simply watching the moon as the crickets and the wind play their abstract melodies. The breeze may be cold, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth I feel in my heart for Minji. I want to tell her how I feel. I wanna scream it from the top of this hill for everyone to hear. But I can’t. What good would it do, knowing that it won’t work out? I know life has been nothing but cruel to me, but having the person who fills me with nothing but joy be this close to me yet still so far away is this cruelest act it’s committed. I’m cursed to live a life of mediocrity while Minji undoubtedly skyrockets to a space among the stars, a place that I can never hope to reach.

Minji glances at me, scanning the bruises on my arm. Without a single utterance, she gently traces her finger over them, leaving a line of electricity in its wake. “How are you feeling?” She asks softly.

“I’m fine. Like I said, I’ve been through worse,” I say.

She sighs, moving closer to inspect the injuries. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

I turn to her, her face much closer than before. “Y’know, I think you’re the first person to ever say that to me.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrug. “People don’t really talk to me in general. They’ll look at the cuts and the bruises and think that I probably deserve them. And maybe they’re right.”

“Hey,” she lightly chides. “Don’t say that, they’re not right at all.”

“I’m always sticking my neck into situations that I don’t belong in, it’s only natural for me to get hit every once in a while.”

“Still, that doesn’t mean you deserve to get hurt.” The worry in her tone begins to grow with each word.

“I’ve hurt countless people in the past, Minji. There’s literal blood on my hands. To say I don’t deserve some kind of divine punishment would be wrong.”

“O-okay, but-”

“And maybe this is it. This is my punishment.” I look in her eyes, tears slowly welling up within them. “My mother’s dead. My father became an alcoholic. I’m left to survive alone while people look at me like a monster. I constantly get into fights because I’m hard-wired to have this fucked up sense of justice that I have to act on for some reason. A-and…” And you. The greatest punishment of all is meeting you. Because I know that I’m not good enough for you and I never will be. No matter how much I like you, you’re always going to be light years away.

“...My life has been nothing but a punishment, one after another. I deserve to-” “STOP!” Minji shouts, pushing me back a bit. “Just… stop, Yuno. You don’t deserve any of that. When I look at you, all I see is someone that’s been treated unfairly their whole life. You deserve to be happy. I-I mean, look at where you are now! You have friends that care about you, your dad is doing so much better now, and I…” She looks at me with steely determination. Her chest rises and falls with breath, as if she’s made up her mind about something.

And then she kisses me.

Her arms clumsily wrap around my head, pulling me into her lips. It’s rough and messy, yet so sweet and soft. The heat in my chest expands, hitting every cell in my body. I melt into her, placing my hands gently above her waist. All of my feelings for her are contained in my lips, transferring over in a silent exchange. Her lips are everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.

Minji pulls away slightly to catch her breath, warm puffs of her dancing against my cheeks. We look into each other’s eyes, not a word spoken but so many things said before going back in for another, this kiss more gentle than the first. She softly cups my cheek, caressing me with her fingers. I pull her in, wanting to be as close to her as physically possible. I want nothing more than to be here in this perfect moment with her forever.

A glass shatters against the concrete, ripping us out of our blissful space. We scramble to get off of each other as Sunghoon stands there, his jaw dropped in shock.

“W-what… What the hell are you two doing?!”

#newjeans #kim minji #newjeans minji #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #minji x male oc #newjeans minji x male oc #minji x male reader #newjeans minji x male reader #fluff #minji fluff #newjeans minji fluff

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sofiadzzle · 9 months ago

Text

Magnetic Force of a Man

smut 18+ mdni

Pairing: ceo!Jay x worker!Y/N

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, dom!Jay, impregnation, dirty talk, fingering, pussy fucking, female masturbation, age gap (4 years), exhibitionism, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I cursed as I stared down at the tear in my brand new sheer pantyhose. "Run-proof my ass! "

Shaking my head in dismay, I quickly looked around the large underground parking garage, praying to God that no one could see or hear me as I hurriedly positioned myself between my front door and the driver's seat of my beige sedan, hiking my lavender pencil skirt up to my ass, and then slid the ruined pair of hose the rest of the way down my legs.

Thankfully, I packed an extra pair!

I sat down on the side of the car seat and removed my violet high heels, almost like I was pulling out the replacements, taking them from the packing and quickly began slipping my feet inside.

The voice of a man said abruptly, "Yes, that's right."

My breath caught in my throat, I paused and turned to see the source of the voice. I was stunned by what I saw and halted abruptly, my new pantyhose halfway up my legs.

He had a great appearance. He was sitting at least fifty feet away from me, yet I could still see the platinum shine of his watch as he raised his left arm to check the time. He was dressed elegantly in a navy blue suit. His shiny black low-cut hair must have reached at least five eleven" in height.

With a dark satchel clasped in his right hand, he confidently walked towards the elevator labeled "PRIVATE." His broad shoulders, confident gait, and commanding presence evoked the image of a male model seen in GQ publications. His whole demeanor was confident.

I could tell that he was chatting to someone else and not about me or my pantyhose dilemma when a blue light blinked next to his ear. He never even gave me a sidelong glance.

I eventually snapped back to reality as he slid behind one of the pillars and finished pulling on my pantyhose. I tucked my skirt in and put my stilettos back on, eager to begin my first day of training as an executive assistant for Park Industries within the enormous, imposing Park Business building. (It seems the corporation required more than one because it was so large.)

I'd never seen or heard of Jay Park, the CEO of the company, before applying for this job. Even though I had looked him up online, all the pictures I could find of him included him wearing dark sunglasses and hats, which made me think he was probably a very secretive person. It appeared that he would much rather maintain a very low profile than be in the spotlight.

Nothing could have prepared me for the day I visited the Park Building for the first time, even though I had finished an internship at a Fortune 500 corporation close to my college campus.

My first interview had been with a woman named Son Eunsaem. She'd had a highly professional appearance and a no-nonsense attitude. She hadn't smiled once during the interview.

I was surprised when I got a call back for a second interview. That was where I met the other executive assistants. Park Industries had an executive assistant for each and every department in the company, and I had applied to the marketing department.

And I started working on the actual job today. At nine o'clock, I had my official orientation meeting, and then I was meant to meet with Jay Park, the company's CEO.

On their first day of work, all new hires were required to meet with the CEO, who was said to like having face-to-face meetings with each and every one of his staff members. I'll admit that I was anxious, but I was also interested to see this billionaire's true appearance.

The thirty-story building housed the marketing department on its twenty-fifth floor. At the orientation, there was another new hire in addition to me. Ryu Hanbin was his name, and he had been employed in the software department.

At orientation, our ID cards were issued to each of us. We were granted entry to the elevators, break facilities, and exits reserved for employees only. My heart started to race inside my chest as the orientation was coming to a conclusion.

Hanbin and I were taken to a private employee elevator and showed how to use our ID cards to operate it. Jay Park's office was on the top floor, and that's where our orientation leader, a middle-aged woman named Won Chaerin, led us up.

As the elevator door opened at the pinnacle floor, we had been greeted with the aid of using a short, stout, but very neat and well-groomed bald guy with a cleanly-shaven face in a vibrant purple pantsuit.

"Welcome to Park Land,” he stated with a welcoming grin as he reached out to shake our hands. "That's what we name the pinnacle floor, right here." He appeared to laugh after each sentence he spoke. “My call is Jinyoung, however all of us right here calls me Jin.” Another laugh.

What a unusual guy, I thought.

He led us down a hallway that ended with a reception table and a small living room area. There had been high-returned black leather-based chairs and a large flat-display tv withinside the ready area. There additionally regarded to be a bar of a few kind in the back of the reception table.

"Y'all can simply make yourselves comfortable whilst I allow Mr. Park recognize you are right here,” he instructed us with every other laugh earlier than sashaying returned to his spot in the back of the reception table.

"Thank you,” I instructed him as I took a seat in one of the leather-based chairs and crossed my legs.

As I sat ready, my heart commenced to overcome so rapid that it felt like it'd leap up out of my throat at any second. A stolen look over at Hanbin noticed his foot nervously tapping in opposition to the carpeted floor, and I felt relieved that I wasn't the simplest worried individual withinside the room.

A second later, the telephone on Jin's table rang, and he spoke back it on speaker.

"Send Ms. Y/L/N in first,” the voice said in a deep, authoritative tone.

"Right away, sir," Jin answered as he glanced over towards me.

I stood up and accompanied him down but every other lengthy hallway, with stylish artwork lining the partitions and porcelain statues each few feet.

At the quit of the hall, there has been a fancy-searching door with a platinum door knob.

"Knock, knock,” Jin said in a singsong-like voice as he knocked on it twice before turning the knob and pushing it open. “Ms. Y/L/N, meet Mr. Jay Park.”

He waited for me to step inside the large, elaborately decorated office before shutting the door behind me.

I stood there, with my back to the door and my orientation folder in my hand, not sure what to do next. Mr. Park had his head down and was doing something on his phone, but as soon as the door closed, he looked directly up at me, and my jaw almost hit the floor in utter awe.

Jay Park was none other than the sexy, model-esque man who'd been walking through the employee parking garage earlier.

I knew I was staring, but I didn't care. The man was a real-life Adonis.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. Come. Have a seat.”

It was more of an order than a request, but I didn't mind. He had the most hypnotizing pair of eyes. They were a deep, dark br, and I felt as if I could get lost in them if I stared too long.

He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. He was eyeing me curiously as I made my way over to the chair in front of his huge, rectangular desk. I felt as if he was sizing me up for something... something other than just this job position.

"So, Ms. Y/L/N, you are twenty-four and you have an MS in Business Management. Impressive. What are your plans in the next five years?”

I felt completely on the spot. I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Well, I'm hoping to be working a job I love, maybe get promoted, and start moving up in the ranks."

"Hmm," he said quietly.

I leaned forward a bit and noticed that he had a folder open with my resume, cover letter, and some photos of me inside.

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

My heart sped up and began to beat harder than ever. He had removed his suit jacket, and his white silk shirt hugged his toned upper body with flair, accenting the broadness of his shoulders.

I shook my head and swallowed hard as my body temperature began to rise. No man had ever had such a profound effect on me. I could actually feel heat starting to build within my core and a noticeable tingling between my thighs.

He walked around to the back of my chair and stood behind me. My heart was beating a billion beats per minute.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

I shuddered at the feel of his breath against my lobe. My body was completely on fire for this man, and he hadn't even touched me. I was at a loss for words.

I wanted to glance up at him, but I was frozen in place like a stone statue, and all I could do was sit there facing forward as I waited to see what was going to happen next. From behind me, I heard him inhale deeply and then exhale slowly.

“Ahh, your perfume is intoxicating, but I sense something else about you, Ms. Y/L/N. You are in your prime,” he stated sensuously, his voice barely more than a whisper.

His lips were so close to my neck that his breath felt hot against my skin. It caused a shiver to run down my spine, and I had to muster every ounce of strength to keep a moan from escaping my lips.

Then, suddenly, he stood straight up and walked back around to the other side of his desk, and his demeanor had returned to a strictly professional one.

"Mrs. Son was quite impressed with you and spoke very highly of your interview," he said plainly as he sat back down in his chair.

"Really? Wow," I replied.

"You sound surprised," he said with a slight grin. "I know she can come across as somewhat ‘rigid, but it's all just part of how she does her job. She's extremely professional and would make an excellent poker player, no doubt.”

He chuckled slightly at his comment, and I uttered a small giggle as well.

"Well, I'm certain you'll be a definite asset to Park Industries, Ms. Y/L/N. Welcome to the team,” he said with a smile.

His smile revealed a set of the most perfect pearly whites I had ever seen up close. While staring at them, I almost missed the fact that he'd also extended his hand to me.

"Thank you, Mr. Park,” I said nervously, returning his smile with one of my own.

"You have a lovely smile, Ms. Y/L/N," he stated softly, still holding onto my hand after I'd stopped shaking it.

“Thanks,” I said coyly, tearing my eyes away from his before I became completely lost in them.

He ran his thumb slowly across the side of my hand before finally letting it go. That small, simple touch from him only added more fuel to the fire that was already building in my loins.

“Ms. Y/L/N? ”He called out to me just as I was about to leave his office.

"Yes?" I replied, turning around to look at him one more time.

"I'm having a small meeting this evening at the Italy Garden restaurant. The dress code is semi-formal. Can you be ready by 7:00?”

"Uhh, yes. Certainly, Mr. Park,” I replied, caught completely off guard.

"Great. I'll send a car to your place at 7:00, then.”

I left his office feeling flustered in more ways than one. It had been more than a year since I'd last had sex, and my attraction to Mr. Park was anything but subtle. He had a magnetic effect on me, one that I knew I was incapable of fighting.

I walked swiftly down the hall, past the small lounge where Hanbin was still seated, and into the ladies' restroom directly adjacent to Jin's reception desk. Breathing hard, I went into one of the stalls, set my folder down on the back of the commode, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and yanked my pants down to my thighs.

Panting like an animal in heat, I sat down on the seat and spread my legs.

"Mmm," I muttered as I closed my eyes and placed my right hand on the crotch of my thin satin pants.

Yanking my pants to the side, I exposed my moist, partially-swollen bud and began to massage it. Another moan escaped my lips as I bucked my hips and rubbed my pussy faster and harder.

I imagined that Mr. Park was in the bathroom stall with me and that he had pulled my pants to the side. It was his lips and tongue against my throbbing, swollen bulb, causing sighs and moans of delight to escape my mouth and sending me into a frenzy of pleasure.

“Ohhh,” I murmured softly as I pictured him rubbing the head of his hard, pulsating cock against my slick, hot slit.

I imagined his hands grabbing my ass cheeks and squeezing them hard in a fit of primal, uncontrollable passion. I pictured him entering me slowly at first, until his rock-hard dick was deep inside my pussy, stretching me to the limit.

"Fuuuck," I whispered as I plunged my fingers as deep into my warm, wet tunnel as they would go. "Yesss! Fuck me, Mr. Park!"

I imagined his cock moving in and out of me, faster and harder, fucking like wild animals as we both got closer and closer to our climaxes. Completely and totally engulfed in how unbelievably good the sex felt, neither one of us even cared that we were fucking unprotected.

"I want you to cum inside me, Mr. Park,” I imagined telling him. “Oh fuck, yessss! Cum in my pussy! Fill me up with your cum."

I didn't even care if I got pregnant or not; I just needed to feel his hot cum inside of me.

I was right on the brink of my orgasm, and I could already tell it was going to be a really good one. As I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, I pictured myself biting down on Mr. Park's ear to stifle my passion-filled moans.

My legs began to shake, and my hips bucked uncontrollably as a powerful climax wracked my entire body. I imagined Mr. Park squeezing my ass cheeks hard as his cock squirted into my cunt, filling me to the brim.

"Ohhh," I whispered, uttering a sigh of satisfaction as my orgasm began to wane.

After taking a moment to enjoy the afterglow, I quickly cleaned myself up, left the restroom, and headed back down to the 25th floor to finish out my workday.

I had just finished putting on my makeup when I noticed it was 6:45. The dress I had selected for tonight's meeting was a long, form-fitting silver cocktail gown I'd bought last spring. It was elegant, with a touch of sex appeal. The back dipped below the waist, and the front wrapped around the neck.

At 6:54, I heard a horn blow outside of my apartment. I slid into a pair of silver stiletto sandals, grabbed a small silver purse, and headed outside.

"Wow!" I exclaimed when I saw the pearly white stretch limousine waiting at the curb.

A tuxedo-clad chauffer opened my door for me and helped me into the back seat.

The inside of the limousine was immaculate! There was a fully-stocked bar with liquor, wine, and champagne. There were wine glasses on a glass shelf next to the bar. There was also a small fridge with fruits, cheeses, and other exotic-looking snack foods.

I helped myself to a glass of champagne and turned on the satellite radio to listen to on the way to the restaurant.

When we arrived about twenty minutes later, the chauffeur helped me out of the limo, and I walked inside. An older male host in a black and white suit was standing at a podium near the entrance.

"Good evening, Madam. Welcome to the Italy Garden restaurant. Do you have a reservation?” he asked.

“Umm, yes. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here for a dinner meeting with Mr. Jay Park,” I replied anxiously, trying hard to hide how nervous I truly was.

The five-star dining facility was way out of my league and price range. I had never been in a place so upscale and fancy. There were scores of expensive-looking pictures hanging on the walls and exquisite artifacts and statues in and around the corners.

I followed the host to a luxurious VIP balcony area where Jay Park was already seated and waiting for me.

"You look amazing, Ms. Y/L/N," he said, flashing that billion-dollar smile that made me want to melt right where I stood.

"Thank you," I replied shyly, returning a smile his way.

The host pulled out my chair, and I sat down.

"I've taken the liberty to order us a bottle of the finest champagne this place has to offer,” he told me with a grin. “What are you in the mood for?”

I couldn't pronounce a single dish on the menu.

"I'll have whatever you're having," I said softly, closing my menu and setting it to the side. I didn't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of our waiter.

"This champagne is delightful," I exclaimed before taking another sip.

"Only the best for a woman as perfect as you, Y/N," Jay stated sweetly.

It was the first time he'd ever called me by my first name. I could feel my cheeks reddening as I smiled somewhat sheepishly.

"So where are the rest of the meeting attendees?” I asked inquisitively as I glanced around the area we were seated in.

"This meeting is just for you and me, Y/N," Jay said in a sultry tone of voice. "There's something about you, Y/N, that drives me crazy. Ever since you walked into my office, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

I felt the same way about him. He was definitely the most attractive, magnetic, and alluring man I had ever met. I was just too shy to tell him so.

Dinner was absolutely incredible. The food was delicious, and I'd probably had a bit more champagne than I'd actually intended to drink. After a perfect meal, Jay led me back out to the limousine, and we both got into the backseat.

As we talked about our backgrounds, childhoods, and future plans while drinking top shelf champagne, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't even asked him where we were headed. Before I could even form the words to inquire, the limo slowed to a stop.

"Where are we?" I asked, just as the chauffeur opened the door.

“My place,” Jay replied with a grin. “I hope that's okay with you. There's something I want to show you."

Normally, I would have thought twice about going to the home of a man I'd just met, but there was just something about Jay that made him all but irresistible to me.

His house was beyond magnificent. The outside of it took up damned-near an entire city block, and the front yard stretched out around the sides of the house. There was a huge, circular, paved driveway at the front, and the limo had stopped directly in the middle.

I couldn't even imagine what it was he wanted to show me. I felt both excited and anxious simultaneously.

Taking my hand inside his, he proceeded to lead me through his humongous residence, showing me all of the different paintings and other extraordinary decor and informing me of the countries from which they'd been ordered. Finally, we came to this nice, dimly lit room with a beautiful faux fireplace against the rear wall. My eyes widened in amazement as we entered the romantic-looking space hand-in-hand.

"Wowww!" I exclaimed, as I had done several hundred times since we'd first gotten out of the limo. "This room is so..."

“Enchanting? ”Jay stated in a questioning tone, finishing my exclamation for me.

"Yeah! Definitely!” I agreed as I looked around in bewilderment.

There was a bar counter in the far left area of the room and what appeared to be a fully-stocked mini bar behind it. A lavish-looking cream-colored sectional sofa was in the middle of the space, facing the fireplace, and there was a huge matching rug laid out in front of it.

Just as I was about to remove my shoes out of respect for the rug, the lights suddenly dimmed lower, and about a hundred faux candles all lit up simultaneously. Also, smooth, relaxing, slow music immediately began to play. The candlelight appeared to dance to the beat of the music.

I was totally speechless and utterly astonished. I had never seen anything like it before. I glanced over at Jay, who had already removed his own shoes and was filling two wine glasses at the built-in mini bar.

"Please, have a seat, Y/N,” he said amorously, nodding toward the sectional.

I sat down and continued to enjoy the ambiance of the supremely romantic setting until he soon came over to join me and placed a glass of champagne in my hand.

"So? Do you like it?" he asked after taking a sip of his drink.

"Like it? This is absolutely amazing!" I said with a huge grin.

"I'm glad you think so. I've never brought any woman into this room until tonight.

"I find that extremely hard to believe,” I said honestly."

I may be a lot of things, Y/N, but I am definitely not a liar,” he asserted. “Men like me don't have to be in order to get what we want."

“Now that, I absolutely do believe,” I replied with a grin. “So, what is it that you want with me? ”

"Ahh, the billion-dollar question," he said sultrily.

Just then, a very popular song began to play.

"Ohh, I love this song!" he said excitedly as he stood up and held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I didn't refuse. He pulled me upward and into his strong arms, and I wrapped mine around his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and pressed my body against his as we swayed to the music. Caught up in the moment, I felt like I could stay in his arms like that forever.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away for a moment and looked deep into my eyes.

“Y/N, you have it all. I adore your womanly physique, your stunningly bright brown eyes, and the fact that you are a very intelligent young woman. You are damned-near flawless. From the very first moment you walked into my office, I have had an undeniable, overwhelming attraction to you, and I know you feel it too."

I was completely speechless. I mean, what was I supposed to say? How do you even reply to a statement like that?

In all honesty, I was just as attracted to him as he was to me, but with him being both my boss and such a wealthy, sophisticated man, I think I felt a little bit intimidated. I'd never imagined myself being wined and dined with a billionaire Adonis like him.

I just kind of stood there, gazing into his tantalizing eyes like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

"Y/N,” he whispered as he suddenly spun me around so that he was behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Yes," I whispered back to him as the feeling of his warm breath against the nape of my neck instantly made me moist between my thighs.

I moaned as his soft lips brushed against the lobe of my him,. My body was instantaneously on fire for him and he had barely touched me.

"I want you," he whispered as his manly hands found my breasts and cupped them through the thin fabric of my cocktail dress.

The tips of his fingers found my nipples, causing another moan to escape my mouth. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, and then suddenly, my dress slid carelessly to the floor. I was braless, and this seemed to turn Jay on even more.

He groaned as I felt his manhood begin to stiffen against my ass.

"Y/N, you're fucking perfect,” he said gruffly, his voice raspy against my ear. “I want you. And you want me, too, don't you?

"Yes, Jay, yes," I moaned.

His hands squeezed my breasts, and I sighed loudly, arching my back. I felt his stiffening cock twitch in his pants.

"I'm twenty-eight years old, and I'm not getting any younger, Y/N. I've been looking for the right woman to bear my offspring, and you are the perfect specimen. I know you probably walked into the Park building today with your own plans and aspirations for your career and whatnot, but I have to be honest with you; I want you to bear my children.”

It was a lot to take in. He had certainly said a mouthful. I wasn't so sure about having kids with a man I'd just met, but he was definitely different from any other man I'd ever met, and odds were that I'd probably never meet anyone quite like him again.

His right hand slid down my midsection and into the front of my satin pants. I hissed with delight, biting down on my lip to stifle my cry of pleasure. He was applying just the right amount of pressure to my bud, and I was grinding my crotch against his hand.

"Don't hold back, Y/N,” he ordered in a breathy voice. “Let it all out!”

With that, he slid two fingers inside my dripping-wet pussy. I thrust my hips forward and let out a cry.

“Fuck, your pussy is already so wet for me! ”He declared with a grunt, pressing his erection against my ass.

Just as I was about to climax, he stopped, pulled his fingers out of my pants, and turned me around to face him. He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked my excitement out of them. My face flushed with need.

Then he pushed me down onto my knees as he undid his pants, releasing his stiff, throbbing cock. It was large—larger than I'd expected. It was definitely the biggest dick I'd ever seen in my twenty-four years on this earth. But I didn't care. I was going to try my damnedest to swallow it whole.

I caressed the shaft as I slid my tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing it gently, and then sliding it down into my mouth as far as it would go. I sucked it slowly and easily at first, and then I took my hand and used it with the rhythm of my mouth, sucking it as hard and fast as I could.

Groans fell from Jay's lips as he grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth. Then suddenly, he stopped me.

Easing the rest of the way out of his pants, he pulled me up toward him again and kissed me passionately, using his tongue to invade my mouth hungrily. I moaned as he began to trail his lips and tongue down my neck, pausing to lick, suck, and fondle both of my breasts, and then continuing down my belly until he reached the top of my pants.

With his teeth, he worked my pants down over my hips and buttocks, letting them drop to the floor near my dress. He parted my thighs slightly, using his fingers to slide my folds apart and massage my bud. Then, his lips replaced his fingers against my moist, pulsating pussy, and I cried out in sheer passion.

He was so skilled and talented—his tongue was like a fucking vibrating sex toy! He grabbed and squeezed my ass with one hand and used the other to slide two fingers back inside my pussy. I couldn't take it anymore!

"Fucckkk, I'm going to cum, Jay! I'm going to cum...so...fucking..." I couldn't even finish my sentence. His fingers pressed against my g-spot, and his tongue darted fast and hard against my pussy, sending me completely over the edge with the most powerful, intense, earth-shattering orgasm I had ever experienced.

My entire body shuddered and shook, and my legs tensed up. I grabbed his head as my crotch jerked forward uncontrollably against his face.

"Shiiiiittt! Oh fuuuuck!" I screamed loudly, unable to speak any other words.

When my climax finally began to wane, just as I was about to catch my breath, Jay suddenly lifted my legs up on his shoulders and gently pushed me down onto the soft, cream-colored rug lying me down on my back.

Not wasting a second, he slid his huge, hard cock into me slowly, with my legs still hoisted up on his shoulders.

I moaned long and hard as he stretched me to my limit, sliding deeper into my pussy than any other man had ever been.

“Fuck, Y/N, your pussy's so tight and wet! ," he exclaimed, moaning as he began to thrust in and out of me, going deeper with every stroke.

I was moaning so loudly that I could barely even hear the music playing anymore. His own groans became louder and longer with every thrust of his burly hips.

I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck as he started fucking me harder and faster. It wasn't long before I felt a second orgasm building, getting closer and closer...

I still wasn't exactly certain about letting him impregnate me and make me the mother of his children, but the sex was fucking earth-shattering. I had never been fucked so good before! I felt his huge, stiff cock plunging in and out of me as I cried out in delirious pleasure.

Just as I was about to scream out loud, having reached my second powerful orgasm, he let out a loud, long groan, and I knew he was there, too. We were climaxing together simultaneously, and for a brief moment, it was like the two of us became one in our own world of bliss.

I felt his cock spurting his hot cum deep inside of me, filling my pussy to the brim, but it felt so fucking wonderful that I didn't give a shit. Besides, he was rich and handsome and could fuck like a damn machine.

As we finally came back to our senses, Jay kissed my lips as he slid out of me and plopped down on the rug beside me. The fake fire was still going, and the lights and music were still playing.

"That was, by far, the best sex I've ever had in my life,” I said breathily as I looked over at him.

"Me too," he said sultrily as he slid his arm beneath my neck.

With that, his eyes closed, as did mine, and we both drifted off into a satisfied slumber.

Jay and I continued to fuck like rabbits over the next few weeks, having hot, steamy, amazing sex every chance we got. And every time he came, he shot his hot cum deep inside of me.

Three weeks later, my pregnancy test came back positive. Jay was ecstatic, of course. At first, I had mixed emotions. I was going to become a mother. Was I really ready?

He immediately made me quit my job and put me in a beautiful condo with a view that overlooked the entire city. He found me the best doctors in the area and accompanied me to all of my prenatal appointments.

So I wouldn't be able to work for a while. I mean, babies don't stay babies. They eventually grow up into adults who can take care of themselves. Who knows? Once I've raised my kids, perhaps I'll still want to go back into the workforce.

For now, though, I think I'll just enjoy swelling with Jay's seed, growing rounder and riper by the day.

#enhypen smut #enhypen #enhypen jay #jay smut #park jongseong #park jay #jay park #jay x reader #enhypen jay smut #jay enhypen smut #18+ mdni

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 year ago

Text

Flirts

Mapi Leon x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: Your cousin's two friends are definitely flirting with you

You meet them at a party - although calling it a party is a bit of a stretch.

You meet them at a get-together. You let yourself into your house with your key and hang your jacket up on your hook, grabbing Patri's up from where she had thrown it on the floor and placing it on a hook as well.

You toe off your shoes and ignore the chatter from the living room in favour of grabbing a drink. You sigh deeply when you see the dishes in the sink.

"Patricia!" You yell," I mean this in the nicest way possible, I don't care if you're friends are here, but I need these dishes cleaned up tonight."

You can hear your cousin swear at the use of her name as well as quiet giggling from her teammates.

You linger in the doorway, arms crossed over your purple scrubs. "I mean it," You say firmly," They've been in the sink since last night."

"Yeah, Patri," Pina teases, nudging her with a foot," Go and clean up after yourself."

You roll your eyes. "You can help, Pina," You say," Seeing as I know you ate my leftovers last night."

The pair both huff but do as you say. Your eyes rove over the assembled football players. You recognise a few of them personally but some from only when you've seen them on tv.

They watch you in silence, some of them wide-eyed.

"How is Nala?"

Alexia's face lights up. "She is good. Better now that her fur has grown back!"

You let out a laugh. "Well, if she hadn't gotten gallstones then I wouldn't have had to shave her." You glance down at your phone, checking your calendar. "I'm still seeing her next week, right? To get her stitches removed?"

"Si," Alexia says," Gracias, y/n, for having her seen so quickly."

You shrug. "Well, when there's a dog as cute as Nala getting them seen quick is my first priority."

Alexia beams at you before saying to the rest of the group," This is Patri's cousin. She's a vet, the one that saved Nala. y/n, this is Ona, Lucy, Keira, Mapi and Ingrid. They all play for Barca."

"Of course," You roll your eyes," It's nice to meet you all." You move to leave but one of the girls on the sofa catches your wrist - Mapi, you think.

Her eyes shine with something you're not familiar with as she exchanges a look with Ingrid, whose lap she is sitting in. "You cannot stay?"

You glance at the clock, not exactly sure why you're entertaining this girl who's clearly in a relationship. "I have a surgery tomorrow."

Her girlfriend moves her head to look at you. "What kind of surgery?"

It's like they both knew how to draw you in, ready and incredibly willing to listen to you talk about the pulmonary stenosis you were correcting tomorrow.

At some point in the conversation, Mapi and Ingrid had separated, moving to different ends of the sofa until you were sandwiched between them. As you spoke, detailing the work you did as one of the few cardiothoracic veterinary specialists in Spain, Mapi's hand came to rest on your thigh and Ingrid propped her head up on her arm and used her hand to gently brush your hair out of your face.

Madre Mia.

They were flirting with you.

●～●～●～●～

You thought it was a one-night occurrence, the innocent flirting and the affectionate touches. You thought that they would remain Patri's teammates who you would occasionally see at games and far away from your actual life out of your cousin's spotlight.

But they start appearing everywhere.

Sometimes together.

Sometimes alone.

Ingrid at your favourite coffee place.

Mapi hanging around the park near your house.

Both of them 'bumping into you' while shopping.

It gets progressively more and more until your day is ruined by not seeing or hearing from them. It's completely seamless the way that they've inserted themselves into your lives.

You're sitting in the crowd at El Clásico when you start to realise that this might be a bit more serious than you originally thought.

You're introduced to Jana, Bruna and Frido as Alexia approaches, extremely happy to announce that Nala is much better than before.

"Oh, I know who you are," Frido replies," Mapi and Ingrid won't shut up about you. You're the vet."

You're a bit confused that Mapi and Ingrid have been talking about you to Frido, even more embarrassed when she reveals that you're all they ever talk about now - the fact that you've made it rich as a cardiothoracic specialist but still helped Nala with her gallbladder despite it making you little to no money compared to your usual work, the fact that you know all the secret backroads and hole in the wall shops around the city.

Everything and anything you've even mentioned in passing to them has been reported to Frido, who laughs slightly at your shell-shocked face.

"They're obsessed with you," She says," And I know for a fact that Patri's been helping them bump into you. You know, Mapi said that she was worried about asking Patri for your number."

Your cheeks colour. You hadn't realised that you meant so much to the couple, who seamlessly brought you into their orbit without even thinking much about it, seducing you into their lives with sweet words and soft touches.

Your mouth opens and closes for probably the whole of the match and it's not until you're let onto the field to congratulate your cousin and Pina, that you finally manage to gather your thoughts.

Mapi crashes into your back at speed, nearly bowling you over but Ingrid's already there, ready to catch you. You're pushed into her front and, with Mapi at your back, you're held hostage between them as they speak to you.

You don't exactly want to escape them though, content and happy between them.

"Bah!" Mapi complains when she pulls away and spies your Patri shirt. "Do you have to wear that?"

You laugh in disbelief as Ingrid moves to settle her arm around your shoulder while Mapi threads your fingers together. "She's my cousin. I think she would be upset if I didn't. Besides, what was I meant to wear up in the Barca box? White for Madrid?"

Both of them make a face.

"Or mine," Mapi says with a silly grin and a blown-out look in her eyes as if she's imagining it," Or Ingrid's. Actually, definitely Ingrid's. You'd look hot in her shirt."

Your cheeks flush - a regular occurrence when you're with the pair of them.

"I think yours," Ingrid replies," She would look equally as good in it." She winks at you. "But I wouldn't be opposed to you wearing mine either."

Your cheeks grow hotter and you bury your head in Ingrid's chest to try and hide your blush.

Mapi doesn't let you though. Her fingers capture your chin and she pulls you to face her. Ingrid rests her own chin on your shoulder and her hands go around your waist, securing you in place.

"Don't look away, amor," Mapi says and her voice drops to some form of purr that you're too busy overthinking to put a proper name to," We like to see when we make you all pretty and red."

"It's our favourite thing about you," Ingrid whispers in your ear and you have to clench your jaw to stop yourself from crying out in public," How you react when we hold you close and don't let go."

●～●～●～●～

You hide out in your house after that interaction, pacing up and down the halls like you're crazy, which completely freaks Patri out.

All those times, you had thought that it was a harmless game to them, flirting with you, buying you gifts, taking you out on things that we're most definitely dates now that you think about. You thought it was just them spicing up their relationship with each other, spoiling you to make the other jealous so they could go home and have epic sex - you almost shut down completely when you think about how good Mapi and Ingrid would be in bed.

But, clearly, your growing crush had been mutual and that's enough to make you go into a complete tailspin.

You don't see them for a few days anyway - travelling to Valencia to perform an open heart surgery on some philanthropist's poor dog. When you come home, it's with a very welcome stowaway.

"No," Patri gasps as she says you stroll in with Honey in your arms.

It turns out your new client (who also was so thankful for you saving his eldest dog's life) had gifted you one of the newest from his Shiba Inu's litter.

She was undoubtedly small, practically a runt but you fell in love with her the moment she climbed into your lap as you took a refreshment break after surgery and licked your nose.

"Si," You say to Patri, who is already taking pictures," Her name's Honey."

Patri's friends all end up coming over, cooing over Honey who takes it so well that you've got no worries about her socialisation.

That's when you next see Mapi and Ingrid.

Mapi walks up behind you, arm automatically around your waist. "You look good as a mama," She says as you both watch Alexia coo over your puppy," She'll be in great hands."

You grin. "Safest hands in Spain," You joke, lifting them up," If you go by my lack of complications after surgery."

Mapi rests one of her hands against your palm. Hers are bigger than yours, and rougher from days of lifting weights and doing pull-ups in the gym. Yours are softer by comparison, used to precision needlework and lightly holding a scalpel to make the tiniest of incisions.

"You have nice hands," She says after a moment and she watches your face redden. She leans in. "I wonder what else they're good at."

You catch the implication and an embarrassing squeak slips from your lips. Mapi grins like a wolf and pulls away, hand dropping but keeping an arm around your waist, pulling you into her body.

Ingrid appears in the next moment. She shares a tender kiss with Mapi and winks at you as they pull away.

"Motherhood suits you," She says, her accent causes something to stir within you," You're glowing."

You fix your eyes on Honey, who's running around trying to see who will give her treats next. "It's not like I was pregnant," You try to defend yourself but from the corner of your eye, Ingrid peels away from Mapi to join you at your other side. Her arm closes around your shoulder, fingers drawing patterns on the exposed skin of your arm.

"Hmm," She says dismissively of your statement," How was the surgery? Good? Seeing as you came home with a cutie like Honey."

"Rich guys are generally annoying but this one was pretty cool. He has a lot of animals but he cares deeply for them all." You frown. "I think he's keeping me on a retainer now. I didn't think you could do that for vets, just lawyers."

"You clearly seduced him, amor," Mapi says," You're good like that, getting people to fall for you."

Ingrid's tongue darts out to wet her lips. "Yes, she's very good at that."

●～●～●～●～

It all comes to a head just two weeks after El Clásico.

You've left Honey at a friend's house and Patri's dragged you out to a club with some of her friends.

You're completely sober though, Patri's only way home, but you still end up dancing.

Somewhere along the night, Mapi and Ingrid (equally as sober) join you.

You're sandwiched between them again - Ingrid at your back and Mapi at your front.

Ingrid's hands are on your waist so even if you wanted to fall out of their orbit, you can't.

Your dancing gets more and more sensual as time goes on until you catch Mapi's eyes.

She's grinning like she usually is when you're caught in Ingrid's grip - like a wolf. It happens in slow motion for you.

She leans forward, ever so slightly and your heart beats erratically in your chest. Your lips connect and fireworks go off in your brain. You move on instinct, kissing back and the guilt appears only as she pulls away.

Your eyes widen in alarm and you dart them towards Ingrid, an apology already on your tongue.

You had a crush on both of them, that's true, but kissing Mapi in front of her girlfriend was crossing a line that you shouldn't have crossed.

But Ingrid's grinning down at you and steals a kiss as well, flicking her tongue into your mouth with ease. Her hands move up to your face, leaving Mapi to hold onto your hips.

Your knees feel a little weak when she pulls away.

"You were right," Ingrid says to Mapi although her eyes are still on you," She does taste good."

The implications of that makes your heart skip a beat. They've been talking about you together, about how you react to them, about how you taste.

"You're so dense, amor," Mapi says to you as recognition of every interaction you've had with them suddenly starts to make perfect sense," So book smart, the best vet in the country but so dense. We've been flirting with you for months now."

"Since we saw you that night at Patri's," Ingrid continues," We just knew we had to have you." All those dates. All those little gifts." Her hand comes to rest on the junction between your neck and shoulder. "We're gonna treat you so well, elskling. You just have to say yes."

"Gonna make you our girlfriend," Mapi says as open-mouthed kisses are pressed against the other side of your neck," Gonna take you home with us tonight, if you'll let us. Just say yes."

You don't even have to think about it.

"Yes."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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thewritingrowlet · 4 months ago

Text

The Freshman (Remake), ft. tripleS Yoon Seoyeon

tags: first time, creampie

length: 10k

author's note: It's the remix to Ignition The Freshman, hot and fresh out the kitchen, mama rollin' that body got every man in here wishin'

Anyway, I decided to do something different this time; I remade The Freshman because I wasn't entirely satisfied with how that one originally turned out—I was super new and was super terrible at writing (still am, btw). I hope you like this remake! <3

Today is August 12th, the first day of Freshers’ Week at your university. Professor Son, the head of Computer Science department, had asked you personally to be one of the seniors to lead a group of freshmen throughout the Week and continue to offer help and advice whenever they may need it, even after the orientation period has finished. She told you that she was very impressed that you were able to maintain over 3.7 GPA (4.00 was peak—3.7 was “rock-bottom”) in the 2 years you’ve been studying while being active as a basketball player for the university’s team at the same time.

You were hesitant to take her up on the request at first because you had wanted to take this holiday period to relax and gather yourself after such a stressful semester. However, you recalled the way your senior had helped you when you were a freshman yourself; how he motivated and set an example to you and your groupmates. With that in mind, you put your holiday plans to the side, said yes, and went on a training period to become a group leader.

Your watch shows 5:30 am. You just finished the morning briefing with the other group leaders and the rest of the Freshers’ Week committee. In less than an hour, the freshmen will start gathering in the football field and you will start your duties as a group leader for these new faces. You are very nervous as you are not very sociable with new people, but you see this as an opportunity to help you be more comfortable being in the spotlight and present in public—the promised payment is too good to pass up as well.

You and the rest of the group leaders stand in a row while holding a sign with the group name and number written on it. You see the freshmen start lining up in front of their respective leaders, including yourself. Some look like they just woke up, others look excited to start their new life as a university student, as you were back then. Initially, no male or female freshman caught your attention with their looks, until the last freshman joins your group’s line. You quickly peek at the attendance list on your clipboard and find the name of this last person: Yoon Seoyeon, from Chungnam Girls’ High School in Daejeon. “That’s quite the distance”, you think. As you turn your attention away from the attendance list, you see her walking up to you. Just before she gets to you, you manage to pick up some details from her looks: big eyes, small lips, fluffy cheeks—she’s also wearing a bow tie in your favorite color, light blue (or is that Dodger blue?).

Lock it in, she’s holding out her hand to shake yours. “Good morning, sunbaenim. My name is Yoon Seoyeon”, she says. You find yourself staring deep into her eyes for a second before reaching out to shake her hand; you have never felt anything like this before—is this what they call love at first sight? “Good morning to you as well, Seoyeon-ssi”, you greet her warmly, “stand in line, please”. You expect her to stand at the end of the line, but to your surprise, she takes the spot right in front of you, beaming as she does. “In line”, she says cutely, and you can’t help but smile in response.

You hear the sound of someone testing the mic over the speakers, which indicates that this whole thing is moments away from kick-off. “One, two—one, two, three”. You can’t see the speaker, but based on the voice, it must be Doctor Park, the dean of the Faculty of Medicine and the head of the Freshers’ Week committee. “Good morning, everyone!’, her voice is laden with excitement, “welcome to the university, my dear freshmen—how’s everyone today?”. Judging by her chuckles and giggles that you hear over the speakers, the people close to her must be saying nice things to her—which is good; she’s such a brilliant professor and an even greater person, and students love her a lot.

“Group leaders, look at your attendance list for me, please”, she says, “if there’s anyone in your group who has a medical condition, guide them to me and we’ll talk to them”. You do as she says and look at your list, and thankfully, no one has any medical conditions. Unlike your group, however, the group next to you do have someone. “Are we okay, sunbaenim?”, Seoyeon asks. “Yeah, I think we are”. Your gaze meets hers, and she shows you such a precious smile. You expect her to look away in shyness, but she doesn’t; she just keeps looking at you with so much confidence—it’s you who folds first, and it’s because you feel your cheeks getting hot. “Fuck, if only I could find something to talk about”, you think to yourself, desperate for even the smallest of help to save you from the awkwardness.

“Once they’re back, leaders, you’re going to take your group to the classrooms that have been assigned to you—see you around, everyone!”. The doctor leaves the football field and goes about her day, and you hear some people collectively saying goodbye to her. You return your attention back to your group, and you can see that some people have started talking among themselves, which is very nice—oh, look: someone’s tapping Seoyeon’s shoulder from behind. She turns around with a smile and starts talking to the girl behind her. You see them pulling out their phones, probably to get each other’s contacts, and admittedly, you’re glad that things are starting out well for her—not sure why you’re so attentive to her, though.

Your group, 127, shares the same classroom with groups 125, 126, and 128. Each group split themselves in two rows and sit facing each other, and then the group leaders sit wherever they can and blend in with their respective groups. “Good morning, everyone”, you greet your group, “let’s start by having a toilet break—does anyone need to go to the toilet?”. You see 3 girls and 1 guy raise their hands, so you tell them to make a line at the door and wait for other toilet-goers.

You were too busy looking at your papers that you didn’t notice that Seoyeon has scooted over towards you. “Excuse me, sunbaenim”, she says, “I have a feeling that we’ll be seeing each other a lot in the next few days, and I was wondering if we can start speaking more casually”. For a freshman, her confidence is second to none. “Of course, Seoyeon-ah; you can call me oppa—or hyung, if you feel like it”, you feel your cheeks getting hot again, “have you thought about which student organization you want to join?”. “I want to continue my student council career”, she says, “do you think that’s a good idea?”. You have friends in the student council; you can play a little nepotism game and help Seoyeon join it—let’s not reveal it to her just yet though. “I think it is”, you say, “you obviously have the experience and know what it’s like to be in the council”.

Before you know it, the toilet-goers have returned to the classroom. In your head, you expect Seoyeon to move back to her previous position, but she doesn’t; she asks the other person to swap seats with her and stays close to you. Your heart starts getting excited, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself—it’d be very embarrassing if Seoyeon turns out to not be interested in you, wouldn’t it?

Kim Suhyeon, the leader of group 128, signals to you with her hands and asks you to come to her, so you do. “I think we can start now, oppa”, she says. You nod to her and take the stage in front of the whiteboard with her. “Attention, please”, you say, “first of all, we’d like to extend Doctor Park’s greetings and welcome you to the university”. In the corner of your eyes, you notice that Kim Sungmin and Nam Jungmin—leaders of 125 and 126 respectively—are on their way to join you. “I’m sure you already know what our names are but allow us to introduce ourselves. My name is Oh Hanbin; I’m a year 3 student from the Faculty of Engineering”, you introduce yourself, getting collective nods from everyone present, “I’ll let the others introduce themselves and then we’ll start this whole thing”. The other 3 people take turns introducing themselves to the crowd, starting with Sungmin, Jungmin, and finally, the little princess (because she’s the only sophomore among juniors in your quartet), Suhyeon.

Now that introductions are out of the way, you can proceed to the next step, which is to play a small game. “We’ll give you three minutes to know as many people as you can, and then we want you to group up based on different conditions—the timer starts now”. People start getting on their feet and scramble around the classroom to introduce themselves to each other. You eye the members of your group, and you guess that some of them already have friends in the other groups based on how they start laughing and high-fiving other people. Seoyeon, on the other hand, seems to be stressing out, as she keeps running around the room to quickly introduce herself to people. “How cute”, you think.

“Alright, everyone, time’s up!”, Suhyeon announces, stopping people on their tracks. “Let’s start the game, everyone. On the count of 3, you have 2 minutes to find people whose name starts with the same letter as yours—Juhyeon and Jihoon, Siwoo and Sunwoo, and so on”, she explains the first criteria of the game, and the freshmen start getting antsy, “one, two, three—timer starts now!”. The chaos immediately ensues; those who happen to be far from their group start running around frantically, including Seoyeon, who happens to be standing quite far away from others whose name starts with S. “Remember: no curses, everyone; we are an educated bunch”, Suhyeon reminds the crowd—they’re too busy playing the game, though.

“That’s time, everyone!’, she announces, thus marking the end of the first round, “now let’s see how you did”. She walks to the group that Seoyeon is a part of and starts asking everyone’s name: Sunwoo, Seoyeon, Soobin, Seunghan, Soojin, Seokmin. “Nah, nah, nah—sunbaenim, he’s lying!”, says someone from across the room, “his name is Kang Minseok, and he went to the same high school I did”. Everyone explodes in laughter; someone actually snitched on their friend and caused them to get punished. Suhyeon chuckles and shakes her head in amusement, “you’re not slick, Minseok-ah—to the front, please”.

Suhyeon continues her examination and finds a few more suspects; there’s a girl named Minji, and a guy named Minwoo, but instead of grouping up, they’re standing far apart from each other. “What’s with you M people”, Suhyeon laughs, “alright, join your fellow M on the stage, please”.

As Minji and Minwoo walk to join Minseok in front of the whiteboard, the classroom door swings open, revealing Doctor Park behind it. “Ah, you must be having fun”, the doctor looks around the classroom, “should I come back later?”. You rush to the door to greet the doctor, since everyone is too busy standing idle. “We were having a little game, doctor—please, come in”, you say. “Thank you, Hanbin-ah”, she shows you a kind smile, “I’ll wait until you guys are done with your games”.

Doctor Park greets the three standing in front of the whiteboard and asks why they’re standing there. “They’re getting punished for failing at the game, doctor”, you explain, and she reminds you to not embarrass anyone during Freshers’ Week. “Certainly not, doctor; we won’t ask anything crazy of them”, you assure her.

You stand next to the three suspects and ask them to introduce themselves and share with the class what they want to achieve in university. Minji says that she wants to go on a student exchange program abroad, which, according to the university’s policies, will allow her to skip doing thesis. Minwoo says that he wants to graduate quickly and work at his parents’ company right after, like a typical nepo baby (his words, not yours). Minseok, on the other hand, “uh, I don’t know exactly yet. I do want to graduate quickly, though”. During all of this, the doctor is looking at them kindly with a smile on her face, the same way she did to you when you were a freshman yourself—it’ll be a very sad day when Doctor Park retires from teaching, that’s for sure.

It is 100% true that time flies when you’re busy or having fun, because the clock shows that it’s almost time for lunch break after what felt like an hour—this also means that Doctor Park had been speaking for nearly 4 hours straight before she left a few minutes ago. Anyway, it’s time for another toilet break before lunch—the food delivery guy(s) should be here soon as well.

As luck would have it, moments after the toilet-goers have left with Jungmin and Sungmin, the lunchboxes arrive. “Yo, yo, yo”, Sunwoo, a logistics guy, greets you while holding two big plastic bags full of lunchboxes in each hand, “help us, Hanbin-ah”. You and Suhyeon help Sunwoo and his friend and take the bags from their hands. The bags are tagged with the group’s numbers, and each lunchbox is labeled accordingly for vegetarians and vegans. You don’t have a vegetarian or a vegan in your group, but Suhyeon has a vegetarian and Jungmin has a vegan in their groups, so you know that they’ll appreciate the attention to detail. “Thanks, guys. See you guys later”, you give each of them a fist bump and send them on their way.

This morning, the logistics guys told you that you must put the empty lunchboxes (and other trash) in the bags they came in and throw them out like that, so with that in mind, you fold the bag and shove it in your back pocket for later use. While you wait for the freshmen to come back from the toilet, you pull out your phone and take a second look at the schedule. “A joint session at the library hall after this—okay, cool”.

Before you know it, your freshmen are back, seemingly refreshed after stretching their legs and emptying their tanks. They sit in two rows again, and you start handing out the lunchboxes to them. “Hand this over to the person next to you, okay?”, you start from Seoyeon, who hands it to Jiwon, who then continues the train until the back of the line.

“Wait”, you stop momentarily, “there’s only one left and there’s two of us”. You look at the other groups and see that everyone, including the leaders, have a lunchbox in their hands. Obviously, you don’t want to keep food from Seoyeon, so you give her the last lunchbox. “What about you, oppa?”, she asks, and you tell her that you’ll be fine. “I’ll live—just eat, Seoyeon-ah”. You will live, yes, but this is still a problem. You hop on the committee’s group chat and tell them that your group is one lunchbox short. “We’ll look into it”, someone from the logistics says, and those words are your tasty and tummy-filling lunch.

After the big, joint session at the library hall, it’s now time for the freshmen to go home. The freshmen don’t really get to go anywhere by themselves, even if it’s time for them to go home. Your group lines up behind you (Seoyeon doesn’t take the spot behind you this time) and you wait with them until you’re allowed to start walking out of the building. There’s a traffic management crew whose job is to make sure no congestion happens, especially in the narrower corridors.

“Let’s gather over there before we go home”, you point at an empty gazebo that’s located in next to library building. You give them your number and make a group chat for them, “here, you can join by scanning this QR”. You hand your phone over to Jiwon, who then scans the code and passes your phone over to the next person. You wait until everyone has taken their turn and take your phone back from Sohee. “That’s everyone, right?”. You look at the group info and see that everyone has joined, “right, you guys can go home now”.

You give those who are leaving a fist bump and tell them that you’ll be seeing them again tomorrow. You fail to notice that among your freshmen, Seoyeon is staying behind with you at the gazebo. “You alright?”, you ask. “Yes, I am”, she replies, “so what now?”. You explain to her that you still need to attend today’s evaluation and basketball practice after that, and on the other hand, she’s free to leave. “You play basketball, oppa?”, she asks. Whether it’s a genuine question or not (considering the height difference between the two of you), you answer genuinely and add to the explanation: “I’m the team’s captain, Seoyeon-ah”. She just nods to you with a flat face, and you guess that she’s not that interested in the subject. “I’m leaving then—bye, oppa!”, she waves at you as she walks away, leaving you alone at the gazebo.

As soon as Seoyeon enters her apartment, she gets a call from her high school best friend, Yeonsu. She also happens to be desperate to go to the toilet, though, so she lets the call go unanswered for now. After her toilet break and change of clothes, she’s now ready to call her friend.

“Hello”

“Hi, hello. Were you looking for me?”

“Yeah, I was—where were you?”

“Well, the campus, obviously. Today was the first day of Freshers’ Week” Yeonsu and Seoyeon were supposed to go to the same university but there were factors that caused them to split up. The best friends then start exchanging stories from their first day as university students—these two never spend a day without knowing what the other person is up to.

“My group leader is named Oh Hanbin”, Seoyeon says, but Yeonsu stays silent, thus confusing Seoyeon, “Yeonsu-yah, are you there?”

“Did you say Oh Hanbin?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Fuck, there’s no way”

Seoyeon doesn’t understand why her friend is reacting like this, so she asks Yeonsu to explain, and the answer she gets is “Oh Hanbin is so fucking famous, Seoyeon-ah”.

“He is? How did you know?”

“Fuck, have you been living under a rock? He’s known for a bunch of things”

“Like what?”

“He’s good at basketball and he’s even better in class—he’s also handsome, but that’s personal preferences”

“Are you serious?”

”Do I sound like I’m lying right now?”

No, she doesn’t—if anything, Yeonsu sounds very enthusiastic right now, as if wishing that it was her that got to meet Oh Hanbin.

“Do you have a crush on this guy, Ryu Yeonsu?”

“Oh, please don’t lie to me, Yoon Seoyeon; there’s no denying how attractive he is”

Seoyeon starts cranking the gears in her head, trying to remember what you, Oh Hanbin, was like: tall guy, well-built, good manners, and just a decent person all-around. “Oh, wait—oh my God!”, Seoyeon exclaims as the memory returns to her, “he gave me his lunch, Yeonsu-yah!”. Seoyeon can picture her friend’s jaw dropping in shock. “No, he didn’t—there’s no fucking way!”, Yeonsu’s disbelief is apparent, “why would he give you his lunch?”. Seoyeon explains to her friend that her group was short by one lunchbox and that you gave her the last one in the bag so that she could have lunch.

As the conversation keeps going, Seoyeon realizes that she’s starting to think that you’re attractive to her, and from that point on, her thoughts start running wild: she imagines what it’d be like to be close to you, what it’d be like to sit on the stands during one of your games, and finally, what it’d be like to have her first time with you. “Fuck, am I even ready for that? Would I even be his first? If he’s as famous as Yeonsu says, then he must’ve had many girlfriends”, Seoyeon thinks to herself, ignoring whatever Yeonsu is telling her. She decides that she needs more time to think about this. “Fuck, Yeonsu-yah, I’m sorry but I really need to go—I’ll call you again soon”, she says, and she ends the call right after.

Seoyeon forces her brain to come up with something to find out more about you. “Can I just search his name on Google or something?”. She opens the browser app on her phone and types in your name, “God, please work; tell me something about him”.

The first search result is your professional network page, which you thankfully keep up to date. “Best graduate out of high school, hm?”, Seoyeon sees the first thing listed under your picture. “Oh my God, Yeonsu was right; Dean’s List with 4.00 GPA last semester!”, she exclaims, her big eyes widen even more thanks to the surprise, “and the captain of the basketball team, too—didn’t make it to the finals last year, though”. Seoyeon doesn’t know what to do with this information, but she’s sure that it’ll be useful very soon. “I should ask him about this tomorrow”.

So here you are, back at the field again after the early briefing. Someone from logistics brought up your misfortune from yesterday and personally apologized to you. You were also told that you won’t get a lunchbox again today and tomorrow, since the catering service just can’t be tasked with adding one more lunchbox, apparently. That said, the committee gives you a solution in the form of reimbursement; you can get whatever and spend however much, and then you just need to give them the receipt and they’ll reimburse you. One more thing to point out is that they said that you’ll be tasked with getting to know the freshmen better and building a good relationship with each of them.

Today you opt for a red shirt and black trousers to complement the brown jacket that the university gave out for Freshers’ Week. You hope that Seoyeon approves of this color combination, because as you realize last night after practice, you’re starting to fall for her, and you sincerely hope that she’ll reciprocate the feelings and not push you away (because that’d be disastrous, wouldn’t it?).

You’re standing at the same spot as yesterday, and while you wait for your freshmen, you get into some conversation with Suhyeon and Jungmin. “Did you actually not have lunch yesterday, oppa?”, Suhyeon asks. “I didn’t. I gave the last one to Seoyeon-ie”, you try to not sound too proud of yourself, “I did get burgers before practice yesterday, though”. Suhyeon loves burgers, and the fact that you didn’t ask her to get some with you is making her slightly irritated. “You owe me burgers, oppa”.

Over Suhyeon’s shoulders, you see Seoyeon walking towards you with a smile on her face. You push Suhyeon to the side to greet the smiling cutie. “Good morning, Seoyeon-ah”, you say with a smile, copying her positivity. “Good morning, oppa. How are we feeling today?”, she says. Hearing her say “we” makes your heart rate jump to the moon, but you quickly compose yourself. “I’m doing very well, Seoyeon-ah. I’m very excited, actually; they said that we’ll be getting to know each other much better today”. She promptly looks away to hide her blush and turns her face towards you again after a few moments. “Th-that’s great to hear, oppa”, she says, “I’ll tell you everything about myself, so I hope you will too”.

You quickly scan her outfit from top to bottom: light blue shirt and brown pants. You step closer towards her so that Suhyeon or Jugmin won’t hear what you’re about to say. “Seoyeon-ah, you look good in these colors”, you praise her sense of fashion. “I-I remember seeing you holding a blue clipboard yesterday, and-and I thought maybe I should wear blue today”, she says. You really want to let out a squeal of excitement right now, but it’s very out-of-character that people might think that it’s cringe.

You and your group sit in a circle in the same classroom as yesterday, and Seoyeon sits right across from your position. “Alright, guys”, you start the conversation, “today is all about us; we can talk about whatever we want”. Seoyeon immediately raises her hand. “Oppa, I heard that you’ve made it to the Dean’s List with 4.00 GPA”, she says, “tell us about it, please”. You didn’t expect her to have that information, and despite feeling a little shy at first, you decide to talk about it anyway because good things should always be celebrated. “That’s true; I’ve made it on the Dean’s List a few times”, you start, “look, I’m sure people have their own ideas as to how long they should be studying for in a week, but because I also have basketball on the side, I only study around 10 to 12 hours a week.”

You think that it’s a small number but based on people’s surprised gasp (it sounds genuine, by the way), you guess that people think that it’s a pretty big number. “You didn’t make it to the finals last year, did you, oppa?”, Seoyeon piles on. “We didn’t, yeah”, you sigh, “we choked during the last few minutes of the semifinal game”. As you think about her chain of questions, it becomes obvious that she most likely looked up your name on the internet, because she wouldn’t have known any of this if she hadn’t—it is flattering, just to be clear.

Before it snowballs into a two-person conversation, you turn your attention to other freshmen and see if maybe they have things to talk about. “How many exes do you have, oppa?”, Sohee asks. You shyly confess that you’ve never dated anyone before, and Sohee seems to be disappointed by your answer. “You’re boring, oppa”, she rolls her eyes playfully. “I am boring, Sohee-yah; all I do is sit in front of my computer and play basketball”, you say with a chuckle.

As you turn your head to face the other members of your group, you briefly catch Seoyeon looking at you with a deep gaze, and you wonder what’s up with that. As much as you’re curious, however, you don’t want to make this all about you and her, since you have other people to pay attention to—hey, someone else is raising their hand.

“Yes?”, you point at Jiwon, who has her hand in the air. “Are you on scholarship, oppa?”, she asks. You reply with a nod, so she continues her question, “what kind?”. You explain to her and the rest of your crew that because you had placed first on the entrance test, you were given a scholarship that covers all your tuition if you can maintain over 3.00 GPA over the course of 4 years maximum. “I’m also eligible for an athletic scholarship, but you must keep being an athlete to get it, if that makes sense—if one day I decide to stop playing basketball for the university, that’s gone. So, for me, it’s safer to stick with the first one”, you add.

Jiwon doesn’t seem to be satisfied yet, “are there other scholarships, oppa? You know, something that a regular student like me can get?”. “Well, yes”, you say, “if you get the best grade in your class and department, your tuition for the next semester becomes 0—obviously it’s hard and there are a lot of competitors, but it’s still possible”. Your answer seems to be a satisfactory one; there are a handful of people who seem to get excited about it.

Lunch time is here, and the logistics guys from yesterday make another appearance today. You and co. take the bags from them and quickly distribute the lunchboxes to your respective groups. Seeing that you’re not getting a lunchbox, Seoyeon points at hers while looking at you, indirectly asking you about it. “I’m okay—just eat”, you mouth to her and end it with a smile, and she slowly opens her lunch and starts eating.

“Oppa, where’s your food?”, Sohee asks, catching on to your situation. You tell her what the logistics guys told you this morning, and you can see that Sohee is contemplating giving you her lunch. You notice that Seoyeon is glaring at Sohee from the side, so you quickly decline Sohee’s offer so that Seoyeon can have some peace of mind. “Just eat, Sohee-yah; I’ll be fine”, you say to her.

You ask Jungmin to keep an eye on your freshmen while you leave to get some food from the cafeteria, which is on the ground floor of the adjacent building.

“Oppa!”, Seoyeon follows you outside, “where are you going?”.

“The cafeteria.”

“Why?”

“Well, I’m hungry, and as you can see, I don’t have a lunchbox.”

“Okay, have fun!”

She turns around and walks towards the classroom again, so you continue your way to the cafeteria to get some food for yourself.

You see that Mrs. Jeon’s stall is the only one that’s open, so you quickly head there. “Mrs. Jeon, hello”, you greet her, “can I get one hotdog with mashed potatoes and cheese sauce?”. She asks why you’re getting food at the cafeteria, so you tell the story from this morning one more time, causing her to laugh. “Well, you must be glad that I’m open”, she says. “You have no idea, Mrs. Jeon”, you chuckle, “I’d like to have a bottle of cold water as well, please”.

Mrs. Jeon hands you a hotdog and a bottle of water after around a minute, and along with them, a receipt, which will come in handy later. Before you leave, you eye the fridge in her stall and see some chocolate milk. “One chocolate milk too, please—no need for receipt this time”, you pull out some more cash from your wallet and give it to her. “Thanks, Mrs. Jeon!”, you grab your stuff and rush back to the classroom.

You stop a few meters away from the door of the classroom and pull out your phone to text Seoyeon: “come outside, please”. You see her come out of the classroom, and she immediately finds you. “Yes?”, she asks. You pull out the chocolate milk from your jacket pocket and show it to her. “I have something for you”, you say, “I bought you a small one so that you can finish it quickly”. She covers her red face with one hand as she takes the milk from your hand with the other. “Th-thank you, oppa”. “The-the pleasure is mine, S-Seoyeon-ah—fi-finish it quickly a-and then go back inside, okay?”. You stutter—you’ve never felt something like this before—is this love?

Well, isn’t that the million-dollar question. You don’t have the time or capacity to think about it right now, as you still have plenty of matters to attend to. Maybe the silence of the night can help you focus, though.

You’ve sent your freshmen on their way home almost half an hour ago, so there are only group leaders and committee members on campus right now.

“Let’s start the evaluations, ladies and gents”, Doctor Park is taking the point today, “is there anything you want to tell me first?”. A guy from security raises his hand and tells the crowd that he found someone smoking in one of the toilets on the Faculty of Law building. He then proceeds to provide the doctor with the wrongdoer’s information—he also shows her some pictures he has taken from the scene. “Unfortunate”, the doctor sighs, “next, please”.

No one else raises their hand, so Doctor Park takes her turn to speak. She explains that the Student Organization Expo will be held tomorrow, and the freshmen will be given freedom to run around the expo area and visit as many booths as they want until lunch time. After lunch, they’ll be able to choose what organization they want to join and send an application using a form that the group leaders will provide them with. “We won’t have a morning briefing tomorrow, so your check-in time for tomorrow is moved to 5 am with a 10-minute lateness toleration. Any questions?”, she scans the room and finds no raised hand, “you may go, then. See you tomorrow, everyone”

You don’t have practice today, so the only option you have right now is to go home and rest. You walk towards the campus bus stop to wait for the bus that will take you to the off-campus parking lot. You see a girl in blue sitting on the bench at the bus stop, and you wonder who it is. You slam your heels harder while you walk to make your footsteps louder, announcing your presence so that the girl doesn’t get startled.

The girl turns her head to face you, and you’re shocked to see who it is. “Yoon Seoyeon?”, you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “what are you doing here?”. “Hi, oppa”, she shows you a cute smile, “I’ve been waiting for you, actually”. You almost can’t believe your ears, “you were waiting for me, sweetie?”. Seoyeon’s big eyes get even bigger when she hears the endearment, and inside, she wonders if it was a slip. “I-I wanted to talk some more with you, s-so I waited for you, oppa”, she looks away to hide her blush, “c-can we talk, oppa?”. “We can, Seoyeon-ah”. You point at the burger shop across the street and ask her to join you for dinner.

You muster up the courage to hold her hand as you get ready to cross the street with her. You wait until this gray car passes before crossing the street half-running with Seoyeon. “Oh, what am I doing”, you stop for a second and take off your jacket, “sorry, you must be cold”. You wrap your jacket around her body to shield her from the cold night air—the way she’s looking away from you makes you wonder if you’ve crossed the line, but at least she hasn’t slapped you for it.

You walk into the restaurant with her, and you see your favorite guy, Jeno, attending the cashier. He waves at you when he sees you walking in, being friendly as ever. “Hey, can I get one Double OG with no tomato and some nacho fries?”. You feel Seoyeon snaking her arm around yours, and you’re reminded that you’re not alone. “What do you want to eat, Seoyeon-ah?”, you ask. “I-I don’t know, but I’d like to have a burger and some fries too, oppa—if it’s okay with you, that is”, she shyly replies. “Of course it’s okay”, you scan the menu board and choose something for her, “uh, can I also have a Black Montana and some fries with marinara sauce?”. Jeno recaps your orders, and after confirming it, he hands you two large cups for the drinks.

After filling the cups with your preferred drinks—cold water for you, and diet coke for Seoyeon—you walk with her to find a table. “You want to sit there?”, you point at an empty table next to the big window. She agrees to your suggestion, so you walk towards that table together. You pull a seat for her before sitting down yourself, earning a soft “thank you” from her. You sit across from her and set your backpack on the empty chair next to you. “So, what did you want to talk about?”, you try to start the conversation. Instead of answering you, Seoyeon stays silent and looks down at the table. You don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, so you opt to keep it for later—maybe food will help her open up.

Food comes out of the kitchen and arrives at your table after around 10 minutes, which you spent by sitting in silence. You give Seoyeon her food and without cue, she immediately takes a piece of fry, dips it in marinara, and puts it in her mouth. She then chases it with a bite of her burger. You sit still and look at the way her plump cheeks move as she chews her food—someone can get full just by looking at Seoyeon eat. “Wh-what are you looking at, oppa?”, she covers her mouth with one hand, “p-please don’t look at me like that”. With a smile, you turn your attention to your food and start eating with her. You unwrap your burger, make sure there is no tomato in it, and take a bite. “Mm!”, you exclaim, “that’s really good”. You see that Seoyeon has started eating again. “You like it?”, you ask. Since her mouth is full, she replies to you with excited nods and a small smile.

Seoyeon has now finished her burger, and her fries are almost done. “Seoyeon-ah, I will ask again: what was it you wanted to talk about?”, you ask. She knows that she has nowhere else to run now. “I-I like you, oppa”, she drops a bomb while looking straight into your eyes, “there—that’s what I wanted to talk about”. Your jaw drops in shock, making you unable to say anything back momentarily. “I’m sorry, but can you say that again?”, you hope that she won’t say something else. “I said I like you, oppa”, she repeats, and you’re glad that she said the same thing. “D-do you feel the same, b-by any chance?”, she maintains eye contact with you despite the red cheeks. Yes, yes, you do, but for some reason, you find it very difficult to say it—until you see tears pooling in her eyes. “Seo-Seoyeon-ah—y-yes, I do like you”, you confess, “I like you a lot”. Satisfied with your answer, Seoyeon gets up from her seat, sits on the chair next to you (after putting your backpack on the floor), and hugs you from the side.

It feels like a massive weight has been lifted off your chest, and you feel like you’re able to breathe far more freely now. You wrap your arms around her body as best you can and close your eyes to bask in the moment. Soon, however, you’re startled by her subtle sobs. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”, you start panicking a little, “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”. “I was so scared that you would push me away—you’d never push me away, would you?”, she asks, her voice trembling from the emotions. Judging by how Seoyeon is sobbing in your arms, thus showing her vulnerability in front of you, assures you that she’s being very honest and sincere. You peck her head a few times, hoping that she knows how sincere you are, “please don’t cry, sweetie; I’m here for you”. “You are”, she replies, “you are here for me”.

You run your hand gently on her back as you try to calm her down. It seems to be helpful; Seoyeon stops sobbing after a few minutes—she’s about to drop another bomb, though. “Oppa”, she pokes your thigh to get your attention, “can we go to your place?”. You silently praise your parents for planting in you the habit of cleanliness, which means that your apartment is almost always presentable should you have guests. “We can, sweetie—let’s go now, okay?”. You exchange some pleasantries with Jeno while you’re standing at the cashier. He even asks Seoyeon if she liked it, to which she responds with excitement. “Alright, thank you, man—see you next time”, you wave at him as you walk out of the restaurant with Seoyeon, your new… erm… girlfriend? Are we on girlfriend-boyfriend stage now? That’s a question for later.

After a quick drive, you find yourself and Seoyeon standing in the parking lot. “Sweetie, can I carry you? I’ve always wanted to try carrying a girl”, you ask, your cheeks getting hot. “S-sure, oppa”. She opens her arms, thinking that you’ll carry her from the front while in actuality, you want to carry her bridal-style. “Oh my God, oppa!”, she exclaims while hiding her red cheeks behind her palms. You carry the 50-something kilogram bundle of joy and walk towards your apartment. On the way, you feel her loosening up and enjoying the ride, and you swear that you can hear purrs coming from her. You hope that no neighbor sees you like this, because you imagine that it’d be quite awkward—not that you’re concerned about what they think, but still.

You punch in the passcode to your apartment without putting Seoyeon down, and here you are, in your haven. “We’re here, sweetie”, you say to her as you walk towards the sofa with her still in your arms. You carefully put her down onto the sofa and extend it so that she can lie comfortably on it. “Would you like some water, sweetie?”, you ask, and she replies with a nod. You walk towards the water dispenser and fill a cup with water and go back to her. You help her straighten her posture before handing her the cup. You’re confused when you see that instead of drinking out of the cup, she holds it with both hands and just silently looks at it.

“You okay?”

“I like you, oppa”

“Yes, sweetie; I like you too”

“What made you like me, oppa?”

You take a deep breath as you try to form an answer.

“I just feel so drawn to you; you’re just so charming, elegant, friendly, and—“, you realize that these words sound ridiculous coming from you, and your brain halts you by making your cheeks turn red. “Anything else, oppa?”, she challenges you, letting out a giggle after.

You hover over her body—making her bite her lip nervously—and come in for a kiss, eager to show her that you love her. You pull away from the kiss after a few seconds and look at her in the eyes. “I love you, Yoon Seoyeon—I love you with my entire being”, you say, feeling emotional, “will you be mine, baby?”. Seoyeon puts a palm on your cheek and rubs it gently. “Yes, oppa; I’m yours and you’re mine”, she returns your words with a loving smile on her face.

You lie down next to her and pull her into your arms, transferring the warmth of your bodies back and forth between the two of you. “Baby”, you get her attention, “is there anything you want to do?”. She moves to sit on your lap and leans forward, her face hovering closely over yours, “I want to have our first time”. That’s one more big bomb she dropped on your head, and you seem to be unable to speak. “You said you’ve never dated anyone before, so you must be a virgin. I’ll give you my first time and take yours in return”, she adds, “you weren’t lying about it, were you?”. You shake your head in response, still speechless. “Great”, she says, “let’s do it, oppa—please”. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to regret it after”, you try to gauge how serious she is. She leans forward even further until her nose touches hers. “I want it, oppa”, her voice sounds very sexy right now, “make me yours, and I’ll make you mine—we will stay together forever, oppa”.

You knew from the first day that she’s a very confident person, but you never expected that she’d be this confident about having her first time with you, someone who she met just yesterday. “It’d be a huge honor for me, baby, but I’m asking one more time: are you sure?”, you ask, despite your paper-thin patience and rock-hard penis. “I am very sure”, she doesn’t waver, “c’mon, oppa; let’s do it”. Even if you were single and have never dated anyone before, you know that you shouldn’t do something to a girl without her consent, and this is as clear of a consent as it gets, so there’s no reason for you to hesitate now. “Let’s move to the bedroom first, baby”.

You gently lower her onto the bed, smiling the whole time so that Seoyeon feels comfortable with you. After she’s lying comfortably in bed, however, her eyes start wandering away from yours, probably because she’s nervous. “Baby”, you hold her chin gently and turn her face towards you, “I love you—I love you lots”. Your words seem to be just what she wants to hear right now. “I love you too, oppa”, she reaches for your hands and pulls you towards her, “thank you for everything so far”. You’re not sure if you’ve done anything to warrant such an expression of gratitude, but you’ll take it and send it back to her. “I know that we just met, but I have a feeling—certain, even—that I’ll have plenty of reasons to be thankful for you, baby”, you make sure that you sound sincere because you are indeed sincere. “I think I’ve chosen well”, she says, “you’re as sweet as I hoped”.

Warmth. Warmth is the theme tonight. Warmth is what you’re feeling right now. Warmth is what this relationship will have plenty of. Speaking of warmth, being in a girl’s arms is very warm—you never knew that before. You rub your cheek against hers like a cat, the friction creating more warmth for the two of you. “Oppa”, she chuckles, finding it funny, “what are you doing? Are you a cat?”. “No, but I think I understand why cats do this”, you let out a chuckle as well, “I love you, baby”. You don’t know how many times you’ve said it, but it’s not something that hurts or tires Seoyeon, so you’d like to think that it’s fine to spam her with it.

“Show me, then”, she challenges you, “show me your love, oppa”. “Of course, baby; as you wish”, you accept her challenge. You jump off the bed and start undressing, showing Seoyeon the curves of your muscles. “My God”, she exclaims, “are you sure you’re playing the right sports, oppa?”. “I mean, basketball can get pretty physical, and for that, you need muscles”, you say, proud of your physique. She follows you off the bed and stands closely in front of you. “Fuck, I wonder what Yeonsu would think if she saw us like this”, she utters while her hands roam on your body. “Yeonsu? Who is that?”, you’re unfamiliar with the name. “My friend from high school”, she says, her eyes still locked on your torso, “she told me about you”. You’re perplexed, “how did she know about me?”. “No idea; she just said that you’re pretty famous”, she says. “I’m famous? Really?”, you think.

Seoyeon asks for your attention by tapping you in the chest. She then offers you the chance to undress her, which you’re delighted to do so. She puts her arms on either side of her body and closes her eyes as you start unbuttoning her blouse. You notice that her breathing gets faster, a clear sign that she’s very nervous. You stop what you’re doing and place your hands on her waist, hoping that doing so will make her feel more comfortable and familiar to your touch. You say nothing as you wait for her to calm down, and it doesn’t take long. “Continue, oppa”, she says, “I-I’m sorry”. You assure her that there’s nothing to be sorry for; it’s totally normal to be nervous when doing something for the first time.

After all her buttons are undone, you free her arms from the sleeves and let her blouse fall onto the floor. As a reflex, Seoyeon covers her bra-covered tits with her hands, blushing as she does. Again, you wait in silence until she tells you what she wants you to do next. “I’m sorry—oh, God, I’m so sorry”, she shakes her head to regain focus, “y-you can take off my pants, oppa”. “Please, there’s nothing to be sorry for, baby—I understand that you’re nervous”, you put on a calm smile to support your statement. Seoyeon slowly removes her hands from her chest and unbuttons her pants for you, she then asks you to finish the job.

Well, there she is: standing shyly in front of you with little covering her body. She’s using one hand to cover her breasts while the other is covering her crotch. She can feel herself drowning in a sea of thoughts, nervous about all kinds of things. “What will happen after tonight? What if he leaves me after taking my first time? What if—“, her restless mind stops when she hears your calm voice. “Baby, listen, please”, you throw her a lifebuoy, “I understand that you’re nervous about all of this—I do, seriously—we don’t have to do this now if you don’t feel like it”.

“Can I ask something first, oppa?”

“Of course, baby”

“W-what do you think will happen tomorrow?"

“Tomorrow? Well, the Student Organization Expo will happen tomorrow”, you crack a little joke. Seoyeon’s stressed face loosens up after hearing your joke, seemingly more comfortable with the situation. “Aaaah, I’m serious, oppaaaa”, she whines.

You get on one knee in front of her and place a hand on her knee. “What will happen tomorrow, baby, is that I will start loving you, and you will start loving me”, you start, your tone calm but serious, “after that, we will spend a lot of time with each other. We will laugh sometimes and cry some other times, but that’s fine; we’ll face everything together”.

“Together, oppa?”

“Together, baby. You and me against the world—well, not exactly; the world doesn’t hate us, does it?”

She seems to be satisfied with your answer, proven by how she moves her hands off her body and places them on your nape. “Together, oppa”, she says, “we will stay together for a long, long time”. “Yes, we will, baby”. You stand up and pull her into a kiss, one that screams out “I love you”.

You were so deep into the kiss that you failed to notice that Seoyeon had tumbled backwards, thus pulling you back into the bed with her. She breaks the kiss and whispers to you that she’s ready. She guides your hands towards the waistband of her panties, “make me yours, oppa”. You nod without saying a word and start pulling her panties down her legs and past her ankles. “Respectfully, baby, I think you’re sexy”, you don’t bother stifling your tongue anymore. “Th-thank you, oppa—I-I think you look good too”, she returns the praise to you, and truthfully, it makes you feel really good about yourself.

While you take off your boxers, Seoyeon takes off her bra, and now, you’re both completely naked, showing everything to each other. It is when you hover over her that she hesitates again. “I’m scared, oppa”, her voice shakes, “y-you will hurt me, won’t you?”. “I’ll be gentle, baby—I promise”, you try to comfort her.

You spread her legs wide enough for you to be in the middle of, ready to take her innocence and give her yours in return. She wraps her legs around your torso and locks her ankles together in response. You use one hand to guide your cock towards her entrance, and despite the lack of experience, you manage to find it somewhat easily. “Baby, I’m going to start”, you announce, “if you want to change your mind, this is your chance”. “No, I want it—give it to me, oppa”.

You move your hips forwards and Seoyeon instantly gasps at the first contact. “Gently, gently”, she reminds you. “Of course, baby”. You wrap your arms around her body and hold her close to you as your cock tries to enter her pussy. You hear Seoyeon’s breathing get faster again, so you whisper to her in a calm voice that everything will be okay. You keep going forwards until you feel the tip of your cock breaching through her barrier; you’ve taken her innocence and made her yours.

You want to savor the foreign sensation, but Seoyeon starts sobbing and grunting in pain. “It hurts, oppa”, she whimpers, “please, be gentle with me—please, please—AHHH!”. You think that if you move again, you will hurt her even more, so you stop for now. “I’m not moving, baby—let’s calm down for now, okay?”, you say to her. She keeps whimpering and grunting in your ears, tugging at the strings of your heart. “I’m so sorry, baby”, you start feeling emotional yourself, “do you want to stop?”. “J-just give me a moment, oppa”, says the girl in discomfort.

You’ve been in this position for a few minutes, waiting patiently for Seoyeon to get used to the foreign object in her body. “Oppa”, she says weakly, “I-I think you can go again”. “Sure, baby”, you say. You slowly retreat from her pussy before going forwards again, earning a combination of moans and grunts from her. You ask if she’s still in pain, and she tells you that it’s not too bad. “You’re doing so well, baby”, you praise her, “I love you so, so much”. “I love—oh, God, so deep”, the way your cock hits the deepest spots surprises her, “please, gently, oppa”. You’ve been as gentle as you can be so far, but no matter how slow it feels, you hold on to your patience.

As you slowly move back and forth in her pussy, you notice that the grunts are getting replaced with moans, which means that it’s now enjoyable for her. “Feeling better, baby?”, you ask to make sure. “Yes-yes—oh, God, yes”, she replies, “how are you so big, oppa?”. “I don’t know, baby; just genes, probably”, you chuckle to lighten the mood, “do you think I can go faster?”. “Just-just nothing too rough, please”, she begs. You assure her that you will be mindful with your pace and start thrusting into her faster than earlier.

The moans that she’s sending right into your ears are very arousing, and you subconsciously start fucking her faster, as you’re eager to hear more of it. “So good, oppa—fuck, you’re so good”, she praises you. You’re glad to hear that she’s no longer in pain and has gotten used to you. “You’re also so good, baby; you’re so fucking tight for me”, you send the praises back to her.

You place her wrists on the bed and press down on them with your hands, assuming a very dominant position. “You’re so good, baby”, you manage to send one more praise her way despite the heavy breaths, “I love you so much”. “Ah, ah, ah—I l-love you too, oppa”, she replies, “kiss me, please—ngh, fuck”. You plant your lips on hers and pick up the pace of your thrusts, eager to get your first ever orgasm in your life.

You chant profanities as you try to maintain the tempo, Seoyeon’s tightness proving to be challenging for you. “Oppa, wait”, she halts you, “I-I want to pee—w-why do I want to pee, oppa?”. Truthfully, you have no idea; you’re as inexperienced as she is. “You’ll be fine, baby”, you try to dismiss her, and she takes your word for it. “I’m peeing, I’m peeing!”, she plants her hands on your chest and tries to push you away from her but she’s simply too weak. You pull out from her pussy and see that her juice is gushing out of her bloodstained pussy—not only that, her legs and thighs are shaking. Seoyeon screams and squirms around in bed; “this must be her orgasm”, you think as you observe her.

“Oppa! Oppa!”, she reaches her arms out, desperate to touch your body, “please, please, hold me”. You hold her tightly in your arms and you can hear the soft, angelic moans that escape her lips, arousing you even further. You whisper “I love you” in her ears repeatedly as you wait for her to come back to her senses. “I love you too, oppa”, she returns your words to you, “what was that, though?”.

“I think that was your orgasm, baby”

“Orgasm, oppa? Really?”

“I think so, yeah”

“And it was because of you?”

“Yes, I’d like to think so”

“That was amazing, oppa”

“I’m glad that it was, baby”

Her breathing returns to its normal pace after a few minutes of hugging, and she tells you that she’s ready to go again. “Give me your orgasm, oppa”, she demands, “I know how it works for men, so I want you to send it deep inside me”. “Sure, but we’ll take the morning after pill after that, alright?”, you remind her. “Sure”, she says, “I don’t want to get pregnant yet”.

Without cleaning the bloodstain on your shaft, you plunge back into her pussy. “Oh, yes, oppa”, she moans, “yes, yes, I’m yours”. Your lips crash into hers as you fuck her at a good tempo, looking for the first orgasm of your life. “Fuck, I don’t think I can last too long”. “That’s okay, oppa—ohh, yes, it’s okay”, Seoyeon struggles to speak, “gi-give me everything you have”. “Y-you got it—oh, fuck”. You plant your hands firmly into the bed and fuck her as fast you can, and before long, you feel your cock throbbing (or is it her that’s throbbing). “I think—“, your words are cut off when your cock blows a load deep inside Seoyeon, earning a long moan from her.

The vibrations from your smartwatch cause you to stir awake—it must be 4 am now. You lift your wrist and see that it is indeed 4 am, the time you’ve been waking up at for the past few days of Freshers’ Week. As you try to lift your body off the bed, you feel something weighing down on the left side of your body. “Oh, right, Seoyeon-ie”. That’s right; that’s Yoon Seoyeon, your new girlfriend who you had your first time with a few hours ago.

“Love, wake up, please”, you poke her cheeks repeatedly to get her to wake up. “What?”, she mumbles, half awake. “Babe, I’ll take you home so you can shower and get ready for today, okay?”. “Yeah, sure”, she says. You open the water bottle that Seoyeon drank from earlier and coat your thumb with some water. You then run your thumb gently on her eyes, “this is how I wake up sometimes, baby”. “Mm, sure”, she says.

After getting dressed, you carry her to your car and start driving away. First, you make a stop at a pharmacy and buy some morning after pills and condoms for future use. “Babe, take this, please”, you hand her a pill and a bottle of water to take it with. Seoyeon weakly reaches for the pill, puts it in her mouth, and chases it with some water. “Done”, she says. You pet her head gently, “good girl, baby—alright, let’s get you home, okay?”

Well, here you are again, in the football field for the third day of Freshers’ Week. Your eyelids feel very heavy, and you’re very tempted to just let them close. You were drifting to sleep when you heard a girl’s voice calling to you. “Good morning, oppa”, Seoyeon greets you excitedly, “how are you today?”. “I’m—“, a yawn cuts you off, “I’m feeling great, lo—erm, Seoyeon-ah. How about you?”. “I’m a bit tired, but I had a great time yesterday”, she smirks. “Did you?”, you chuckle, “well, that’s great to hear, Seoyeon-ah”. She gets on her tippy toes, and you lean forwards a bit to hear her whispers. “I love you, oppa”, she whispers, “thank you for last night”. “I love you too, baby”, you whisper back, “I’ll see you at home after this, okay?”. You glance to your left and right to see if Suhyeon and Jungmin heard you, but they were too busy looking at their phones. When you look at Seoyeon again, she winks and smiles at you, so you wink and smile at her in return. “I love you, baby”, you mouth to her, causing her to look away to hide her blush.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #triples smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut

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