#there’s already drama and I don’t! want! to! be! involved!

[elodieunderglass]

Would you like to be sent other people's Killie headcanons? I wasn't sure if that would be welcome or like stealing your toys.

(Killie the jockey oc)

Thank you so much for asking! I’m going to say something wild - that it’s fine if you understand the risks and agree to the conditions. Sorry for writing an essay about the conditions, but it interested me a lot - I want to welcome this spirit, and am also conscious that published authors don’t do this (however, I don’t want their job.)

Long story short: you can, but it’s not legally advisable, but fuck it, we ball.

Grownups share toys, and Killie exists to be rotated - and, when he achieves sufficient velocity, thrown briskly into an obstacle. Sharing this burden with others pleases me. I’ve already said an emphatic GO AHEAD to fanart and AU fanfic, so worrying about this too much would be a case of shutting the barn door after the horse has eaten it. We do a lot of riffing and yes-anding each other, which is the ENTIRE fun of talking about Killie, and is the ONLY reason he’d get a book anyway. And my approach to intellectual property is more collaborative-Goncharov than the inciting published-authors-shouldn’t-read-fic-incident (1990s drama with Marion Zimmer Bradley.)

Killie’s intended to have a little self-published, non-commercial book that isn’t written yet. If I was already planning to do something similar to your ideas, it might lead to awkwardness for both of us. I’m not saying it would - we are too mature and kind - but that’s the risk I don’t want you to take unknowingly. I do mean to create 1 piece of fixed canon material (plan for that here), for which I plan to charge sufficient money to reimburse the cost of the editor I plan to hire for it. So you would have to decide whether you’d like to risk your headcanon being canon. I will say upfront that there is zero risk of Killie being commercially viable (CAN YOU IMAGINE) so there’s no chance of anyone (including myself) getting paid for anything; it’s more about the idea of intellectual property. Your headcanons belong to you, and by kindly sharing them with someone who hasn’t written the canon yet, you risk a lot more than someone writing about a closed, distant work.

You don’t need approval or permission for headcanons. You don’t need approval from anybody to enjoy them.

Of course, half the pleasure of sharing headcanons is sharing them for connection and communication ARGH.

It would be great if you could share them somewhere else, without worrying about me being involved, but Killie’s entire fandom is the 20 of us, currently housed here, in my living room.

I do want to encourage you to do that (posting without telling me/discussing with other people). you don’t need my permission, and are welcome.

But I do understand Killie’s fandom is housed in my living room at the moment. As much as I intend for him to move out in the future, ideally into a small kennel in YOUR living room, it’s very natural for current observations of him to take place in my living room.

(Could he please move into your living room, the kennel is very small)

Thus, here is my policy:

If you send me a headcanon, please understand that you are voluntarily and freely releasing your idea, in the spirit of willing sharing. There is a very slight risk that your headcanon will overlap with something in the unpublished Killie book, so you’ll have to agree that you understood this risk - and that I don’t owe you anything, if it’s similar.

If you have a very good idea that would be absolutely load-bearing, I’d like to reach out for a mutually consensual permissions statement to use it. You would have the ability to decline. Agreeing to its use would involve you getting full credit for the idea, my warm thanks for sharing it, a link to your blog in online material, the admiration of everyone reading the credits, and probably nothing else will be in my power. Payment is unlikely. Co-authorship is not on the table, as I can’t write checks I can’t cash (I.e. I can’t promise to pay someone with credit on a product that might not happen.)

submission of writing prompts is done freely in the tumblr context, and I’m going to make the formal statement that a prompt does not grant co-ownership of the resulting work. Submission does not mean co-ownership - if you submit a prompt, you’re giving me permission to use it in any way I like, with or without credit. At the moment, it’s all on tumblr and attached to usernames, but if the inspired work moves to another platform (I.e I include a comic in Killie’s book) I’ll endeavour to keep the credit to your tumblr handle. I plan to thank everyone who makes the work so possible and so delightful!

Once Killie has this completed piece of work out (working title Throw Your Heart Over) he’ll be fair game. Literally hunt him for sport with my blessing 👍

I would then put him in a hamster ball and kick him down the stairs step back a bit because I think it could be a bit oxygen-smothering when creators are TOO involved - I’d like to respond to asks, but would not want to know what people were saying elsewhere- but once moved out of my living room, Killie will no longer be my personal problem.

Death of the Author voluntarily. Pls.

I was thinking of licensing him as Creative Commons anyway, but he still needs to move out of my living room and get his own address for that. At any rate, then, it will be chill for all of us to do whatever. Intellectual property WHOMST. The only thing would be I don’t want him sold without permission.

The intention of Killie is mental freedom and growth of identity; if I hogged him all to myself, I’d break that intention, and he’d rightfully stop working for me.

In conclusion, by willingly sharing a headcanon WITH ME, you agree that you get: small but high-quality connection, engagement, my admiration, hoots of amusement, tears, maybe a comic in response.

You do not get paid, you don’t get co-authorship or have any ownership.

If your headcanon accidentally matches a canon statement that I haven’t publicly made yet, you’ll have done very well by guessing foreshadowing, but unfortunately receive nothing. Guessing canon in advance does not mean that you gave me the idea, and you have agreed that by sharing it willingly.

If your headcanon solves a plot problem, I might reach out for permission to use it, with the conditions that I can only realistically offer credit for the idea. You’ll have the right to decline, and the paper trail showing that you did.

You will have no way of knowing if I am lying, and by freely sharing headcanons, you accept that risk. (I don’t intend to steal and lie - I’m a goddamn grownup with a day job, I think we’re friendly and trust each other, I’m writing a novel as a present to you, specifically, @thethirdromana - but the risk can’t be ignored.)

If you share your headcanon with other people, I don’t need to know, and don’t need to be invited.

Once Killie’s published, you can eat him for breakfast.

Hope this all makes sense, and I’m sure published authors would be gnawing their nails in horror reading this, which they won’t, because it’s 20 people in my living room and won’t make any money.

Regardless of what you choose to do, I cannot thank you enough for joining me, sharing your heart and attention, and for the gift of your support.

[artificial-condition]

I’m going to lose it I fucking hate working full time

[screampied]

MONEY HONEY! — ☆ GOJO SATORU.

➤ popstar!gojo masterlist

headline. fucking your client wasn’t on your bucket list. the famous popstar 'toru' says he can’t perform because of issues he’s having with his voice. but he finds another way to warm up his vocal cords—it involves being between your legs.

word count. 4.2k

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo, pwp, unprotected sex, modern au, he's a whiney brat, overstim, degradation, praise, semi public, impact play, cunnilingus, fingering.

an. lol this was fun 2 write !! ty @osaemu as always for beta'ing

“…nono, you don’t understand. i can’t go out there, i just…can’t—!” gojo mutters, and he’s pacing back and forth. talk about a drama queen. to think you had to deal with this every day, being the infamous satoru gojo’s personal assistant was never an easy task. his attire was…quite enthralling, to say the least. gojo was draped up in a sheeny black one-piece with rhinestones attached in a few places, he always had his outfits designed a certain way. not too tight, not too big.

you sat on the sofa, taking a sip of a latte he bought you as thanks for saving him to deal with the hoards of paparazzi that practically lived outside the stadium back-way entrance.

“satoru, you do this before every show,” you sigh, glancing at him. you couldn’t lie to yourself, he was strikingly handsome. gojo’s hair was a tad bit messy and ruffled. it was a slight v-cut towards his chest to show a bit of skin. his fangirls always went wild over the most minimal things such as that. “you do realize you’re supposed to be performing in front of 10,000 people? canceling right before a show isn’t a good l—”

“i know…i know,” he pouts, and he’s so unserious, you sort of found it hard to believe this was a millionaire pop star who’s such a household name. gojo lets off a loud sigh before walking towards you with a sheepish grin. “these cough drops you’ve been givinʼ me haven’t done shit.”

“really...” you deadpan, casually giving him nothing but a sly eye roll.

gojo sulks and he’s just a few feet apart from you now. “mhm…really,” he says, and the slight rasp in his voice catches your attention. his earpiece was still on, as well with his mic that hung just barely underneath his chin. “i did research though. about other methods that help with heh, um vocal fry..”

you stare up at the popstar, and he’s returning the gaze…as if he was trying to hide the smile that was already forming against his pink lips. you don’t give him an answer and this time, he’s the one to roll his eyes.

“…well since you asked so nicely,” he grumbles, the same pout going against his face before he pulls out his phone. gojo scrolls a thumb down against his bright screen before clearing his throat. “hm, according to this accurate article, it says… to fully recover from vocal fry, a guy must uh, receive a special treat within a woman’s—”

you blankly stare at him, already second-guessing his fake response. “just say you want to eat me out, satoru.”

“wha— where’d you get that impression?” he plays dumb, furrowing his eyebrows and cowardly looking around the room. a few seconds go by before he shrugs, speaking quickly, defeated. “….fine i wanna eat you out. hmph.”

you turn your head for a brief moment, hearing the defending roars of the crowd just a few areas down from the dressing room the two of you currently stayed in. “maybe after your show, they're chanting for y—”

“they can wait,” he frowns, and he turns you around, two hands softly holding onto your shoulders. gojo remained with a pout, bottom lip just slightly tucking underneath the top one. “i can’t.”

the both of you grow quiet for a long moment, and gojo seems serious—dramatic, but serious. you and him both exchanged sensual eye contact, and you were so close to gojo that you could practically smell the strong cinnamon scent of his intoxicating cologne. the popstar smooths his lips together before briefly shifting his eyes down at the floor and then back up at you. 

“five minutes…five minutes, that isn't too long is it?” he stammers, and the gaze the two of you made starts to get more and more intense. “i won’t get into too much trouble if it's just five minutes right?”

“you’re insufferable.” you mumble, letting off a soft sigh. “okay, five minutes. if you say this helps with your—vocal whatever.”

not much to your surprise, five minutes turned into half an hour. 

you held back a moan the sudden second you felt gojo’s warm tongue swiftly lap against your drenched folds. he made you wriggle against him, and you maintained a rough grip against the laid-back sofa.

“s-satoru,” you’d whimper out, gasping at how sloppy he was. you were prompt up in such a position to where you were bent over the arm part of the couch, skirt lifted, fishnets just barely pulled down, and the most vulgar expression. “oh my g-goddd, you're gonna make the others outside h-hear.”

“you’ll just have to be a little more quiet, assistant,” he whispers, cool breath fanning against your pussy. perhaps this was unprofessional, no it was very unprofessional. a plethora of following consequences started to race through your mind. “what time is it?”

you moaned, reaching near the wooden half table for his watch and read the time, “um.. quarter past eight.”

“aw man,” he sulks, softly licking the your tender pulsating numb with the very tip of his tongue. with a quick second, he maneuvers circles all over your clit to feel you squirm and jitter against him. “that much time passed? can’t stand rushing…”

as you cling onto the fluffed couch, your black pencil skirt that was just sluggishly raised, and yet, you continued to gnaw the inside of your lip from the feelings of his tongue, entirely sloppy.

the slurps that exited from his mouth had your bottom lip quivering in such desire. you craved more, the way he swirled and curved the length of his tongue throughout your pussy earned umpteen gasps and whines from you. 

“s—satoru,” you’d croak out, and he’s casually taking the time to make out with your folds. languidly, your slick race down his chin, and between breaks to breathe, he'd lap up his tongue before diving back in. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again, think ‘m gonna cum..”

“wait a little longer, yeah?” he murmurs, grabbing the fat of your ass with two rough hands. you felt bundles of butterflies stir inside your stomach, feeling gojo’s nose swipe against your folds for a few jiffs. “let me eat, haven't had a good meal all fuckin’ day.”

you swallowed, not even facing him but you could practically see the grin stretching across his lips. “and…and who’s fault was that?”

he chuckles, warm breath fanning against your cunt. “okay, you have a point,” and your thighs feel feverish—you’re so hot, and not because of the sudden humidity wafting around the small dressing room.

the popstar lolls out his tongue, humming before you moan, feeling him lick your pussy in a straight direction. “mhm, this is better than anything else though.”

you were about to speak, but all that did was make you let out a shaky whine. the smooth pads of his thumbs graze against both parts of your ass as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. it was as if time stood still, your mouth grew exceedingly dry and your legs felt like they could barely stand up on their own. 

“sa..satoru,” you once more repeated, not knowing how long you could last. simply, his tongue was dangerous—god, it was just the way he moved it in every direction.

he knew where to lick, where to suck, and even nibble. gojo found himself tickling his tongue against your little nub before sucking on it. all to hear you cry out in desperation. cacophonies of whimpers depart from your glossed lips such as, ‘satoru,’ ‘please-please,’ and ‘m gonna c-cum.’

there was no denying, gojo had you an entire stammering mess. you found yourself even questioning how this became, the two of you were never intimate. although, there's always been steamy moments between the two of you. 

for instance, there was a moment where gojo took you with him to the hot springs while he was on tour…which non-surprisingly led to a hot make-out sesh. that was a few months ago, and the two of you decided to not think much of it. of course, though, there are always assumptions being made about the two of you—always from the nosy journalists and interviewers. 

each interview, it’d always be questions they’d ask about the precious little assistant that’s essentially attached by the hip to the famous gojo satoru.

“are you and that girl exclusive yet?”

“how long have you two seen each other?”

“please. describe to us. what’s she like in b—”

they’d get more perverted each time. alas, gojo always loathed it whenever the press referred to you as ‘that’ girl.

his jaw would always clench in sheer annoyance. perhaps he didn't have the right to feel that way, but he was somewhat protective over you. it wasn't like you were his bodyguard or anything clearly, but still. he always liked how you treated him just like you’d treat anyone else.

“satoru..” you'd cut him off from his deep thoughts. “your phone keeps beeping.”

“huuuuh?” he grouches, ears perking at the annoying screech of his device. gojo’s thumbs remain against both edges of your ass before he breaks off his lips, a long string of his saliva running down your slit. “oh, can you hand it to me?”

he's so nonchalant, and with your back still arched, you lightly fling his phone towards him.

he grumbles.

picking up the phone, typing in his twenty-one digit passcode of ‘sexymansexyspraycan69’ before with a click, it unlocks. gojo darts his eyes towards his phone and hums at the five messages left by his manager, kento nanami. 

‘Greetings. Where are you? Message me Ass.’

‘ASAP. Autocorrect.’

‘Your fans think your dead.’

‘Don’t tell me you're busy with that assistant of yours again.’

‘When your sales start going low, don't blame me.’

and many more unread, “blah blah yeah yeah,” gojo murmurs, skimming through the loads of unread gray bubbled messages. “nothing important. geez, can't have a single moment to myself.”

you were so close to orgasming and that's when gojo flips you over to face him—you're panting and he flashes you a soft smile, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “aw, waiting for me?” he whispers, bringing a gentle kiss towards the inner corner of your neck. his touch was immensely warm, something you just couldn't describe. “you wanna cum don't you, baby?

“m-mhmm.” was all you could manage out, wrapping your arms around him as he got right between you. gojo continues to trail kisses down your neck before chuckling. 

“use those words, c’mon. don't be shy. i wanna hear ya tell me what you want.”

the way he was such a tease, you couldn't stand him, then again you could. so annoying, gojo’s warmth of his performing outfit brushed against your skin. the perfectly knitted fabric of it dancing against your skin as he inched closer towards you. “tell me how much of a messy girl you wanna be.”

“i—” you started, and he took a moment to stare into your eyes. gojo looked so pretty, smug yes, but pretty. long lashes each time he blinked, fluttering against him. whenever he showcased that well-known cheeky smile of his, his dimples would poke right against his lips. “i-i wanna cum. please, lemme cum, ‘toru..”

“pretty girllll wants to cummmm,” he sings in a playful melodic tune. again, you couldn't stand him. singing right in the middle of something so intimate. gojo runs a hand down your buttoned-up shirt before chuckling. “hm, i suppose. go ahead, let go fʼr me.”

once you do, immediately your vision turns dizzy. all you saw was a few blotches of white, and it feels so good that the feelings have you biting down on your lip. gojo leans into your neck, whispering sweet nothings against you while giving your ass a soft caress.

“good girl, just let go…yeah,” he purrs, giving your collarbone a gentle suck. you taste so sweet to him. you're addicting, simple as that. like candy, he can't get enough of.

gojo satoru had a sweet tooth for you, there was no doubt about it. “fuck, i can just suck on you all day,” he utters in a low voice, and his warm hands part your thighs so he can get a bit more between you. “i need more…fuck the fans, i need you.”

“idiot, don’t say that..” you moan, and he's kissing all down the crevices of your neck again. gojo’s lips against your tender skin gave you chills. even still, you were so hot, from the neck down. it felt amazing, the feeling of him sucking and kissing against your skin to such a point that you're just throbbing. “t-they’re waiting for you.”

“they can keep waiting,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss near your chest, moving the exclusive backstage lanyard pass away with a slight grip. “damn, you don't know how hard i’ve been during rehearsal. i—i think about you, you know?”

you gawk up at him as his body towers over you, his costume glimmers in the light before he starts to peel it off carefully. you were taken by surprise so you mutter, “you…you do?”

“well yeah girl,” he rolls his eyes, such sass in his tone, following with the low rasp that hid underneath his voice. “you drive me crazy in the worst way.”

“the feeling’s mutual, popstar.” you utter, a glint in your eye.

“hmpf. now that i was nice enough to let you cum, you decide to be a brat, huh?” he raises a brow, using two fingers to brush his mic piece aside. 

a coyish grin goes against your lips. “sorry. are you gonna do anything about it?”

“…shut up..” he grumbles, and he does. 

pretty much, you then found yourself on your hands and knees on the couch, feeling gojo caress your ass briefly before meeting the mounds of your skin with a mean spank.

you suck in shortened breath. “ooh,” he says as you moan in unison with the light thwack. “you get off on spanks, huh?” he utters in a grouse, the feeling of his palm kissing against your skin making you continuously pulse. 

“n-no.” you spat. 

“liar,” he matches your snarky tone, and you let off a gasp once you feel him finally rub the tip of his dick against your folds. gojo grows abnormally quiet the minute your slick coats his length freely. “fuckkk,” he sighs, eyes closing for a short second. you teasingly wriggled your ass against him and he spanks you again. “you’re so impatient, wait.”

“do you even know how to fuck?” you slip out, and you held back a giggle. perhaps you shouldn't have said that, your thoughts did speak way more than they should anyway. 

gojo’s eyebrows curl into a furrow, and his voice genuinely sounds offended. “wha—?! of course i  do.”

“just asking.” you tease. 

“just asking,” he mocks your tone, completely butchering it purposely and gojo slowly starts to make his way inside of your tight pussy. he's gradually moving himself in, and you let off a moan before he continues, “yeah. shut the f-fuck up.”

a small grin stretches against your lips because you hear how gojo stutters whilst sinking inches into you. even while trying to be mean and degrading, he was so close to moaning himself. it was simply adorable. you maintained a mere pristine arch while biting the inside of your cheek once more. 

“you're s-so wet ‘n sloppy,” he huffs out a groan, and the squelches your pussy made against him were simply enticing. for a second, you grew mute once you gave your own body a listen. just the faint sounds of gojo’s jagged breathing, “f-fuck, ‘s good. keep facing that way, just like that. good.”

gojo’s touch against your spine was purely gossamer. 

he was soft, gentle, delicate.

yet the minute he started to create a pace with his rollicked hips, he couldn't contain himself. the way his dick probed throughout your walls, you kissed your teeth in longing—just for him to just hurry.

gojo was always such a tease, the fat plump head of his cock dabbing against your pussy. 

“s-stop playing and just put it in.” you moaned, growing impatient by the mile. 

“heh, you know what they say,” he mumbles, you pulse even more once you feel him slide in about a single inch or two…only to then go right back out. “patience is a virgin.”

“…it’s virtue.”

“that’s what i sai—”

“just fuck me.” you whined. 

gojo giggles, and finally, he starts up his slovenly pace again. he grips your hips before sighing. he takes note of the way you progressively suck him in.

you linger over the couch, the fabric of your pencil skirt just hovering over your waist before gojo starts to sway his hips. 

you had to stop yourself from being so noisy, executives were probably in the other room.

some kind of meeting perhaps occurring, yet here you were, happily entangled with your client. such thick inches he was dumping into you had nearly drooling. gojo’s base was rotund and fat, thwacking and thwacking against you to where you were so dizzy. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru.. ‘s good,” you whined, every few seconds he’d smack your ass to watch your ass jiggle with such recoil. it was one of his favorite moments to witness. as your lips stuck together, your thighs already felt weak and tremulous. 

“damn girl…didn't expect you to s-start throwin’ yourself back again me,” he sibilates, and for a concise moment, his head goes back. a groan flies past his glossed pink lips as your ass continued to thrash against him. “you're such a needy girl. tryna…f-fuck me back..”

the way his voice unintentionally got low whenever he was in such a trance had you throbbing, such convulses making you nearly weak in the knees.

to you, the feeling was indescribable. such pools of heat ran between your legs the more his thrusts picked up.

his dick reached every spot, so much so being precise—you felt the curve of his length analyze throughout your inner walls. it didn't miss a spot, he reached deep and you let off the cutest whimper. “god, r-right there. please, ‘toru. y-your curve, ‘s reaching me deep.”

“you f-flatter me,” he pants, trying to ignore his flusteredness. gojo’s right hand, the hand that had a half-cut open glitter glove that coordinated alongside his outfit ghosts against your ass. his lip quivers from his pace, and the way your pussy just sucks him dry, a few splotches of pre-cum cutely coated against the outer part of your ass. “fuck, dunno how much i can take with you movin’ your ass against me like that…shit, shit.”

“…s-satoru,” you breathed, biting down on your arm to suppress your moans a bit. not before long, he deepens the angle and you feel his sharped hips piston in utter contentment. “fuck, f-fuck. ‘s deep.”

gojo groans, swallowing the nonexistent lump in his throat before he feels himself coming close.

“think you’re gonna m-milk me dry,” he gasps, jerk after jerk his hips go against you at full throttle. the base of his dick, you hear the pap pap pap noises commence, and it’s so obscene. “shit, think ‘m in love,” and then you grow hot. it’s a long inelegant pause before he adds to his words, “…i-in love with your pussy.”

you were gonna comment on something, but you were too fucked dumb to comprehend anything. you’re being fucked stupid into the cushioned sofa. the cottony bristles of the fabric went against your skin as your body lurched forward each time. 

splaying at an almost animalistic pace, gojo’s ears, the very tips of them at least grow incredibly hot, you’re making his body heat up, scorching. the way your pussy tightly hugged around him like a vice, he was obsessed.

he just couldn’t get enough. to think this was the first time he’s been this intimate with you—oh, how he could only imagine what it’d be like for a second time, or a third time, or a…

“s-satoru, your phone’s ringing..”

he grunts, glancing down to see the bright-lit screen display, and this time it’s geto. with an eye roll, he ignores it, still gripping your hips, he’s attaining his peak before he lets off a husky groan. “f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum.. can i—?”

“y-yes, jus’ do it, ‘toru,” you spoke, not even letting him finish his sentence—you knew what he was gonna ask though if he could shoot inside. you were so drunk from his dick, thoughts on your mind were straight mush. 

“okay, okay,” he breathes, and even his moans were pretty. figures, gojo was a soprano, so he was bound to sound angelic, even while moaning his head off. it had the perfect pitch to it, such rasp in it, almost breathy. 

you feel gojo’s pelvic bone thrust a bit more at a quickened pace, accelerating just a bit more and his nerves were just going wild. “fuck, f-fuck..” he grunts, and he starts to grow a bit whiney, his sloppy hits against your rear made out to be a tad bit voluntary, rhythm a bit more expedite, and he clenched his jaw. 

once gojo came, it's so much.

thick ropes that seeped right into you. you moan, and he pauses his hips just to watch, feeling himself pouring all inside. velvety ropes of the popstar’s cum fills you up to the brim. you're panting, he's panting, and gojo was in love.

was it love? he didn't know, but his pupils were dilated for sure. 

his breath hitches once he pulls out, watching his cum slowly spill out between your folds and he lets off a moan. “made me fuck such a mess into you,” he spouts, running a thumb down your slit to watch you cutely jounce against his touch. 

“you ruined my panties,” you whined, turning over to face him—gojo leaned in for a kiss, and you returned the favor, tasting yourself once more on his lips. the sweetened taste of your slick that remained all over his tongue. 

“baby, it's not like you need them,” he rasps, grabbing ahold of you, and he positions you to get on his lap. “besides, i was gonna ask to keep them.”

“why?” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck, slipping off a moan at his already sensitive tip hovering against your entrance as you realigned yourself. 

timidly, he runs a hand down his neck. “y’know. for uh…good luck? was gonna keep them in my pocket or something.”

“you're so—”

“shhh.” he hums, interrupting your words for another tender kiss. your tongue slides against his, and he tastes minty.

as his breath collides against yours, you playfully bite down on his lip. gojo grunts, and he’s making your way inside again. gingerly, you sink against his thick base and he gives your ass a mean squeeze before spanking it once you start to move. 

“oh f-fuck…fuck, forgot how sensitive-” he hiccups, watching with half-lidded eyes at your hips rotating against him in an orderly fashion. you moan from his pleasure, taking a second to swallow before whimpering—softly, you kiss against his neck and he grunts. “you-you make me feel so good, baby.”

gojo’s almost at a loss for words, he’s had his fair share of women, but none could make him feel like this.

besides, he's never had the time. touring day in and day out was a hassle, and intimacy was a straight no due to his overly busy schedule. 

although, whilst the two of you were screwing around, making out and you're riding him, cowgirl, that’s right when the wooden creaky door bursts open.

not to anyone’s surprise, it's no one other than gojo’s best friend and bassist, suguru geto.

“you've got to be joking,” he utters with crossed arms, immediately darting his eyes away. “everyone’s been calling you, there's a search party, and—”

geto pauses, tilting his head. “…is that my clothes you're wearing, satoru?”

“suguru…hey man,” gojo gasps, nervous laughter following his tone—you jump in surprise, and he wraps an arm around your waist. “i’m… kinda busy here.”

“i don't give a fuck,” he grumbles. “by the way. your mic was on the entire time. you moan like a girl more than her.”

gojo’s eyes widen, reaching for the tiny button near the edge of his mic.

indeed, the switch was turned on and he awkwardly laughed, bringing the speaking part up to his lips.

“eheh…hey mic check?” and he could hear himself echo through the earpiece. embarrassing.

despite you still being inside, you just sat there—geto staring away, not even trying to comprehend what was happening before gojo coos out a subtle cheeky, “uh…i didn't know my mic was on. my bad.”

“you're so stupid...” you run a hand against your forehead in disbelief. an entire stadium practically heard the both of you. 

the heels of geto turned before gojo brought a finger against your lips to shush, and he pouts. “sugu wait,”

“what.” he mutters, turning back around. 

“wanna join…? don't think a few more minutes wouldn't hurt…r-right?”

“…….”

[mv1simp]

That Boy Is Mine ♥️

Max Verstappen x Siren!Reader

that boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him, watch me take me time, boy is divine (that boy is mine)

As a young, beautiful and rich CEO living in Monaco, you have any man you want in the palm of your hand. But a certain handsome Dutchman has caught your eye…there’s just a small problem of his current girlfriend that’s in your way! You’ll just have to prove to Max how much better you could treat him.

Content Includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, seductress! girlboss! Reader, naive!max, infidelity but Max’s unnamed gf is annoying anyway, size kink, Halloween costume sex lol, seriously explicit cheating don’t read if not ur thing!!!, 4.7k WC

The thing was, you wouldn’t normally ever go to such lengths for a boy. Why would you? You were a pretty girl in her 20’s living in Monaco, running your own successful public relations management firm. That’s how you’d met Max, through a PR crisis of Redbull that Christian Horner had personally called you to get sorted. Some drama with a defamation lawsuit against their poster boy, Max Verstappen, who you hadn’t paid a second of attention to despite living in Monaco. You were much more likely to get your nails done and enjoy a glass of wine than be following a race weekend.

But after you’d easily sorted the mess out, you’d been suprised to find Max himself patiently waiting in your luxurious office, wanting to thank you with a gift of tasteful French wine. It’s rare for one of your clients to take accountability for their actions instead of letting their managers sort it out for them, after all. You don’t miss the way Max’s pretty blue eyes widened as he took in your appearance, with a tight black dress with lacy sleeves that did wonders to push your tits up temptingly. He’d been expecting some old man, not a beautiful girl his age. He cleared his throat nervously, suddenly finding it hard to maintain contact with your sultry eyes as he stuttered his thank you. Cute, you think with a tilt of your head, enjoying his deep Dutch accent. He’s very different to the arrogant, pompous personality you’d expected from a champion F1 driver. And he was insanely gorgeous too, all 6 foot of thick thighs and broad shoulders. You’ve met many attractive men in Monaco and flirted your way around them, but Max catches your eye with his baby blue eyes and soft blonde locks. So you can’t help gently brushing your manicured hand against his bulging bicep, looking up at him with fluttering lashes to say it’s so sweet of him to go to all the trouble to come downtown, really, you’re happy to help him anytime!

He walks out of your office with your personal phone number for any media emergencies, of course. As well as a blushing face and a semi erection he guiltily tugs at his pants to hide, after looking down to see your plump, soft cleavage when your smaller body pressed up against his.

A quick google stalk of your client leaves you feeling very annoyed when you discover he’s not single like you’d originally hoped. You roll your eyes as you look at the B list model’s Insta he’s dating, spammed full of photos of her with Max’s wins for clout or artificial brand collabs. So tacky and undeserving of someone like Max, you muse later that evening over an espresso martini. You’re too deep in your own thoughts to pay attention to your date with a Monaco hotel chain owner that evening.

When you find a massive bouquet of roses on your desk the next day, you assume your date was being persistent despite your disinterest last night. But when you find VIP tickets to Max’s garage next race and first class flights nestled amongst the red flowers, you’re even more intrigued. You attended, out of curiosity more than anything. You’re not planning on getting involved with an already taken man - far too much drama for the CEO of a media relations company.

But you can’t deny Max knows how to give a girl princess treatment, something which you’d gotten used to providing for yourself since no man had been able too. From the relaxing, personalised flight experience, to the sleek expensive Mercedes he’d had sent to pick you up at the airport, the 5 star suite in a hotel, and to the exciting VIP lounge at his garage filled with interesting people you’d easily networked with. And when you see Max confidently dominate through the track to P1, sounding so sexy over the radio without a hint of shyness, pulling off his helmet afterwards to show off his gorgeous, messy hair as he adorably smiles at you to ask how you’d enjoyed the day, you realized this wasn’t just any man. No, Max was the one, the perfect man to provide you with whatever you asked for and take care of you when you needed him.

Not that you needed him to. After all, you were well known as one of the most successful businesswomen in your country - and you didn’t get that title without a pair of fangs to match. You’d be a true power couple - much better suited than his current subpar girlfriend, who dragged him down in every way.

You’d made up your mind. That boy was destined to be yours, no matter what.

So you began developing your relationship with Max and become frequently seen on the paddock, all under the guise of improving his media image, of course. The handsome blonde had no issues spending time with you, finding you to share his sarcastic sense of humour and in awe of your very keen analytical sense that you easily applied to the racing world as well. He liked how you were unfazed with the media circus that surrounded him, too, not blinking twice when trashy gossip magazines posted suggestive captions about you and Max. And you always seemed to know just how to carefully phrase your words assertively when asked insensitive questions by grid reporters, who were curious about Max’s new PR advisor. It was very different to what he was used to with his girlfriend, who frequently fed into gossip column content with Insta posts and livestreams - which constantly annoyed Max.

Soon you’re a regular amongst his group of friends. You meet his girlfriend, finally, at a dinner one night. She’s taken her hold on Max for granted, barely interested in you as she snaps selfies with the more famous people at the table. You can’t resist the foxy smile on your glossed lips - it’s almost too easy, given how unaware she seems of how discontent Max is with the relationship. You sit next to him all night, laughing and sipping your favourite wine that he now knows by heart and orders for you, the conversation genuine and a bit too flirty for “just friends”. And when your lace minidress rides up, and your soft thighs and crossed ankles brush against his muscular legs, he doesn’t move away, letting you press against him for warmth when he rests his large palm around your thigh. Your panties are soaked through by the time you get home from how often you had to clench your legs, imaging his massive hands drifting just a bit higher…

It’s easy to blame the touchiness on the alcohol the next morning and strictly maintain your professional distance as you hand him paperwork to sign in your office. You smirk when you catch his eyes in a passing mirror, glued to your ass through another tight lace dress as you walk away in Louboutin stilettos. Max was very much an ass man - that is, when he wasn’t being a tits man. You certainly had no qualms showing off your thick curves to him, knowing you had a lot more to offer than his girlfriend. It was impossible to miss the way his blue eyes would drift towards your tempting body whenever he thought no one was looking.

So next weekend, you invite him onto your boat for a day trip. It’s much smaller than his personal multi level yacht, but perfect for what you had planned. It’s a nice touch to have all your coupled up friends with you, who disappear off to various rooms in the boat as the sun gets hotter and they get drunker. You hand Max another strong G&T you’ve mixed yourself, now just alone on the top deck with him. He takes it easily, telling you you’d make a deadly bartender. You hmm, resting a knee on the couch he sits on. It’s a manoeuvre that brings your bouncing tits, barely covered in a white skimpy bikini, right into his eyeline. Max takes one look at your nipples pebbling through the fabric, gulps cutely, and promptly drains the glass in his hand.

You try to contain the smile on your glossed lips as he tries and fails to look away from your tits in his face, stammering out responses to idle chit chat you��re making. It’s adorable how his confident, dominating personality switches so fast off the track with you. At one point you say you’re sorry that his girlfriend couldn’t make it (you aren’t - you’d planned the getaway on a day you knew she had a modelling gig booked, of course, since you’re the one who’d pulled strings to set up the photoshoot). Relaxed with all the G&Ts, Max mentions that actually, his girlfriend had been very persistent in trying to stop him coming today.

Oh? You say with faux innocence, tilting your head and widening your doe eyes with worry. Why? She doesn’t like me? Max rushes to soothe your worries, saying no, no, it was more that - well, I think she’s a bit jealous…you’re very beautiful, after all. I think I might just need to spend more time with her from now on. You laugh at his cute blush, telling him Of course, but she had nothing to worry about, after all she was the model and not you!

You know how to play the game, knew that despite his model girlfriend at his side, you had him practically drooling in your tiny white bikini, contrasting beautifully against your tan skin. But he had to be the one to cross the line first, and think it was all his idea. Especially if his bitchy girlfriend was starting to catch onto your plans and demanding Max stay with her. So you walk away, making sure to sway your hips so he can enjoy the view of your ass as you lay on your tummy to sweetly ask your cute lifeguard if he’d mind putting sunscreen on your back?

Your lifeguard jumps at the chance, having already been checking you out all day. He’s taking the bottle and raking his eyes over your form hungrily - but Max interrupts even sooner than you’d predicted. His love language being physical touch works in your favour. You hide your pleased smile as a deep Dutch voice heatedly says that he can do it, and you turn to see Max glaring at the lifeguard with all the intensity of a lion. Are you sure you don’t mind, Max? You say sweetly, blinking your thick lashes up at him from your compromising position, your head right at the level of his hips. You hope he’s thinking the same naughty thoughts as you when his blue gaze darkens. That it would be so easy to slide his thick fingers past your pouting lips and hold them open as he messily fucks your all too willing mouth. You bite your bottom lip at the filthy idea.

You see him swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing in that huge muscled neck of his. No, it’s okay! That lifeguard…well, I don’t want him putting his hands on you. God, you couldn’t wait to lick hickeys all up and down his broad shoulders before wrapping your thighs around them as he ate you out. But you’re getting ahead of yourself, coming back to the present as you lie down to let Max touch up your sunscreen. His large palms are tentative at first, trying to remain respectful within the boundaries of friendship. But when you’re softly sighing, moaning that it feels so good, Maxie, work has made my back way to tense, could you use one of those massage techniques your physio taught you? it’s impossible for him to not go a little further. Your tiny bikini easily lets him explore your body, his strong hands gripping your plush hips and giving him a naughty mental picture of what you’d look like if he took you from the back. You’re glad your sunglasses are extra dark so you can peek at his trunks, enjoying the rapidly hardening large bulge there, responding to all the cute little moans and gasps you’re letting out as you tremble under his touch.

You decide to tease him a bit more, reaching behind your neck to untie your string bikini, shyly saying you didn’t want to get tan lines…he didn’t mind, right? You can totally go ask the lifeguard to help!

Max’s mouth goes dry at the sight of your bare back as he dazedly shakes his head, huskily saying he was happy to help, you’re his friend after all. All the blood rushed straight from his brain to his cock to make his decision as he feels the lush swell of your tits from the side when they generously slip out. You celebrate your victory internally when he shyly asks if he could take off your bikini bottoms so you didn’t get tan lines there, too?

You hesitate, coquettishly blinking and asking him if his girlfriend would be mad? Max pauses with your reminder, his large hands spread over your juicy asscheeks as he resists the urge to squeeze them. Your plan falls right into place as you cheekily suggest that surely it would be okay if he closed his eyes, just for a second, you really didn’t want tan lines there after all-

That was all Max needed to hear before he eagerly nodded, looking the picture of an overexcited puppy. This time you can’t resist your smirk as your slowly untie your bottoms, jiggling your ass as you slide them down so he catches a glimpse of the tempting flesh before he remembers to close his eyes. His large, calloused palms run down your plump ass, unable to resist squeezing roughly and making you moan sexily. You part your legs invitingly, and when those thick fingers of his brush against your pussy you know he can feel how wet you are for him. So dripping wet, that one of his fingers easily slides against your warm pussy lips. Max, you gasp breathily, your entrance instinctively clenching around the tip of his thick finger. What are you- Oh! Desire rushes straight to his groin as he gets a feel of how tight your sweet cunny would feel squeezing down on something else thick of his and he can’t help but sink his finger all the way in. It takes him longer than it should to come to his senses and move his hand away, stammering out apologies that he hadn’t meant to touch you there, his hand just slipped, could you forgive him?

To his relief, you giggle at his flushed face, turning around to meet his embarrassed gaze. Don’t worry about it, accidents happen! you say playfully, as if you hadn’t planned this, tying your bikini back up slowly. As he watches you strut away confidently in your little heeled sandals, he can’t resist tasting the wetness you’d left all over his fingers. He almost cums in his trunks from how sweet you taste, and hastily returns to his room. You smirk when you press an ear to your bedroom wall, hearing the shower running in Max’s bathroom right next door. Sadly for you, you can’t hear anything over the sound of the shower, leaving you pouting and pussy aching from the memory of Max’s hands on you.

But just on the other side, a certain blonde Dutchman is giving into his growing taboo desires. It’s not the first time he’s jerked off to you - no, with all the frequent teasing glimpses of your plush cleavage or your ass in tight dresses, he’s regularly mentally drooling over you. He knows it’s wrong, and in the beginning he did feel guilty…but now only the thought of your sexy little body that can get him hard like this. Tipping his head back and letting the cool water flow down his abs, Max slowly jerks off his impressive erection as he fantasies about you shaking and cutely moaning underneath him. Your lush tits spilling out from the sides, your wide hips that would be the perfect thing for him to hold tightly as he fucked you in doggystyle, his favourite. And now he knew what your soft tanned skin felt like, how sweet and wet your cunny was for him….well, it’s enough to make him addicted. He’s cumming within seconds, biting his lips and imagining how good it would feel to bury his aching cock inside your cunny instead of his finger next time.

He still blushes cutely when he sees you next, at a friend’s party, but you’re as nonchalant as ever, greeting him with a sweet kiss on his cheek. He watches you laugh at something one of his guy friends are saying and can’t stop the jealousy swirling in his chest, even when his girlfriend tugs on his arm to get him his attention all night.

Of course, you’re playing the long game. It didn’t matter how many men you flirted with - there was only one who you truly wanted. So for one of the exclusive Halloween parties in Monaco, you discreetly organise one of the big fashion houses you represent to send Max’s girlfriend a haute couture costume. She accepts it, spamming her Insta story with pics of it, just like you’d expected. You’re certain she would show up to the event with a reluctant Max in tow.

And on that night of the Halloween party, you smile as you spot a bored looking Max across the living room of the mansion the party is hosted at. His gorgeous blue eyes widen as he spots you…dressed in the same costume as his girlfriend. But you’d had some customised alterations made, looking ethereal in your white angel costume, tits pushed up with a corset and soft tummy and hips on display in your low waisted miniskirt. Max is far from the only guy who stared at you hungrily as you entered - including your date, some Russian model you’d met at a PR event, dressed just like Max in a tight fitting shirt and a Ghostface mask that hid his identity when on.

Someone might just call your choice of couple’s costume a random coincidence, but you didn’t make mistakes like that. Your date had two jobs tonight - one which he’d already done successfully, as you see Max’s icy blue gaze glaring at the hand around your waist. You whisper in your date’s ear, parting ways for now, because he had another mission to go complete that you’d already asked him to do for you as a favour. Namely, keeping Max’s goldigging girlfriend occupied tonight. And since your date happened to inherit his father’s multimillion manufacturing business, you were sure Max’s girlfriend would be throughly enraptured by him.

You laugh and mingle with friends throughout the night, catching Max’s intense gaze on you a few times but pretending to ignore it. He’s finally had enough of seeing you flirt with other guys when you end up on the dancefloor. You shiver as you feel his strong, muscled body behind you, shielding you from any guy who tries to get close to you. That’s fine with you, because the only one you wanted to grind back against was Max after all. So you toss your hair, getting lost in the music and tipsily giggling, enjoying the low rumble in Max’s chest as your fat ass teases his hardening bulge. His large palms settle possessively over your hips, leaning down to smell your sweet vanilla perfume. He lets you drag him into a quiet, dark corner, giggling and pressing your soft body against his as you whisper he looked so hot tonight, his biceps looked amazing, had he been working out more?

And then your doe eyes, prettily outlined in glittery eyeshadow and eyeliner, look up from his muscular chest to meet his piercing blue eyes as he pulls his mask off. You gasp, widening your eyes in supposed shock as you blush and stammer that you’re so sorry Max, you’d thought he was your date, he’s dressed the same after all…

He’s disappointed, of course, missing the touch of your manicured fingers running up and down his abs. He ends up agreeing to help you find your date again after you look at him pleadingly, although the idea of letting another guy put his hands on you makes him want to unleash Mad Max. But when you two finally find your date, behind a closed bedroom door upstairs, you see he’s been kept very good company by none other than Max’s girlfriend.

Your hands fly to your mouth in pretend shock at the scene of your date with his balls deep inside the gold digging girlfriend, her artificial sounding moans radiating around the room. Your date had exceeded your expectations and kept her very well occupied, it seemed. Max is disgusted with the sight, snarling in anger and moving to block your view of your date cheating on you. He’s so sweet, really, being so protective of you when you’d executed the whole plan to perfection. You hear his girlfriend exclaim in shock, trying to plead that it wasn’t what it looked like…but you’d given the Dutchman the final excuse to call it off. Don’t ever fucking come near me or her again, he growls, his voice radiating confidence and authority in a way which makes you squeal internally.

To your delight, Max insists on taking you home, worried about how you’d feel after finding your date cheating on you…with his backstabbing ex girlfriend, he mutters darkly. He’s fuming at her betrayal, but as you lead him into your cozy apartment you’re already planning your next scheme. When he asks you gently if you’re sure you’re ok, is there anything he could do to help, he’s so sorry that his ex got involved with your personal life like this you sweetly nod and tell him you just wanted to take your mind off it all.

He’s eager to help you, nodding enthusiastically when you ask if he’d help plan your costume for your next Halloween event the following night? Your date would no longer be helping you, after all. Of course, schat, anything you want he says earnestly, pretty blue eyes looking at you with adoration as you pout. Handing him a glass of whiskey to sip on while you guide him to sit on the end of your bed, you sashay into your walk in closet. You make sure to leave the door half open, so Max gets a full view of the red lingerie you’re wearing underneath your costume. You take your time getting ready, bending over to pull on your outfit and shaking your hips enticingly, making sure to give Max a naughty show. And if the angel costume had been sexy, the schoolgirl outfit you put on next is positively scandalous. You shyly walk out in heels and a tiny pleated skirt, skimpy white top tied around your breasts to push them out even more as you twirl for him. What do you think? you ask anxiously when Max just stares without saying anything. It looks bad, doesn’t it-

He hastily denies your words, stumbling out that you looked gorgeous, you always did, you didn’t have anything to worry about.

When you giggle happily and announce that you had a few more to show him, he licks his lips in anticipation and drains more of the whiskey from his glass. You give him another slow striptease through your closet door, this time taking off your bra so he gets a flash of your hard nipples. You see him widen his legs to accomodate the raging erection hanging in between his thick thighs and have to stop yourself drooling at the delicious sight. But Max is the one controlling himself next when you emerge in a cat costume, all black latex booty shorts and tight corset, paired with kitten ears and a tail.

His jaw drops open at the tempting sight, and when you ask him if he thinks it’s cute enough to make your date regret cheating on you he clenches his jaw and growls that the pathetic bastard didn’t deserve the privilege of seeing you all dressed up like this.

You try and fail to hide your coy smile at Max’s jealous words, and then find yourself pulled forward in between his legs as he murmurs that there were plenty of other ways to get back at your date. Oh? You say breathlessly, sinking onto your plush ass to sit in between his spread thighs, resting your cheek against his leg. Like what, Maxie?

He groans at the temptation in front of him, of your glossed pouting lips right next to where he needed you the most. You’re not behaving like a good kitty, he jokes, but his voice is rough as desire swirls in his eyes. You’re teasing me far too much while thinking about some guy nowhere near my level.

You grin like a Cheshire and slowly get on all fours, swaying your ass in the air and nuzzling your face right up against his bulging erection. Am I still a bad girl now? you whisper, flicking your tongue out to lick his zipper sluttily. Shall I make it up to you? Max groans above you, thick neck flexing as he tangles a large palm into your hair. Schatje, he says breathlessly, as you slowly unzip his jeans, squealing in delight as his fat cock emerges to slap against your cheeks. So big, Maxie you croon, going cross eyed as you place kitten licks all along his engorged cockhead. What did I say about teasing me? Max groans above you, applying delicious pressure to the back of your head as he pushes your lips down onto his shaft. Mmfh! Your moans are muffled as he loses control, fucking your mouth without abandon. Pleased moans fill the air as you drool over his length, letting him throat fuck you and use you for his pleasure. Your pink lip gloss is smeared all over his cock as your eyes roll back in your head, one of your hands reaching down to play with your aching cunny as Max leaves bruises in the back of your mouth.

Weeks of sexual tension finally lead to him cumming in your throat, so far down that you swear you can fill him hit your tummy, and you obediently suck up every last drop. He’s so far from done, though. He wants you on your hands and knees, his strong hands ripping a hole into your slutty latex shorts to hungrily taste your sweet pussy again. Soon enough your bedroom is filled with obscene sounds of Max fucking his bare cock into your cunny, pounding into you from behind. It’s even hotter than his dirtiest fantasies, and he’s making you tremble and scream his name as he presses down on your neck, burying your face into the sheets and whispering filthy praise in your ear. You’re so pleased you’d thought to set up a tiny camera by your nightstand, capturing every second of your first fuck with Max so you can enjoy it later. Your pussy squeezes around his length like a vice, and it’s most euphoric feeling he’s experienced in his life. He’s cumming again within minutes, moaning how good you feel, he fucking loves your cunt, loves you and takes you over the edge with him as he gives you an open mouthed kiss.

You smile contentedly against his warm lips, letting him slide his tongue into your mouth. Your red manicured nails tangle possessively in soft blonde locks as you sigh into the passionate make out. Max was exactly where he belonged, finally - in your bed, with you in his arms.

And unlike the silly women who’d taken him for granted, you were never going to let him go.

—————————————————————————

A/N: thank you soooo much for ur patience my dear readers, I fear I was getting a bit of writers block seeing all the photos of max and Kelly in the holiday season 😭😭😭 I hope u guys enjoy this piece!! Send me lots of ur raunchy asks plz I need inspiration ♥️♥️

[likeumeanit9497]

metal | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n got a few new piercings, and when her best friend matt asks to see them, she can't say no

warnings: smut; unprotected p in v (bad); oral (fem receiving); masturbation (m/f); phone sex; dirty talk; 18+

notes: hiii guys. i feel like tumblr's flakiest writer ever coming back on here every few weeks with a one-shot and telling u all im gonna be more consistent but then just not being consistent at all. i just started a new college program and it is taking up so (!!!!) much of my time, so ive been barely able to put any time towards writing for funsies. soooo it might take me a couple weeks to put out one shots (sad) while im in this program, but i swear im doing the best i can. i appreciate u all so so so so much, but matt girls this one is for u <33

With a sigh of relief, I crawled into bed. It was late, and I was exhausted after a long day of dealing with family shit. The only thing that got me through my day listening to my dead-beat father come up with yet another excuse on why he no-showed at my birthday dinner was the promise that, at the end of the day, I would be able to curl up in bed and forget all of my problems. Now that time had come, and I couldn’t wait to turn on some trashy reality TV show and lose myself in their cushioned world for a little while.

Just as I started the show, I felt my phone vibrate beside me. For just a moment I was filled with dread — thinking that I would be once again pulled back into the drama that was my father — but once I saw the name at the top of my screen, I felt my body relax. Matt was calling.

Matt was my best friend, and he had been for years. Him and I met on the first day of school freshman year, and immediately became inseparable. He was the only person in my life who I ever felt comfortable around enough to truly open up to about my problems. There really wasn’t much in my life that he didn’t know, so of course I had told him last night that I was going to see my father, and of course that was why he was calling. Annoyingly, I felt a smile creep up on my face. I hated that I loved how involved he got with my problems; as if they were his own. I would never admit this to anyone, but it really helped because it made me feel less alone.

“Hey you.” I greeted him after accepting the call. “Hey Y/n.” His voice sounded familiar in my ear, and already it calmed the sea of bad thoughts crashing in my mind. “How did today go?” He asked, keeping his tone light. I knew though that if I could see his face, there would be faint lines of concern etched in his forehead. I sighed. “Exactly like I knew it would. He gave me an insincere apology and weak excuse the way he always does.” Matt stayed silent on the other side of the call, allowing me the time to tell him as much as I wanted. His soft breathing through the speaker, however, comforted me and let me know that he was listening.

“He smelled like a distillery and couldn’t stop slurring his words, yet he was still trying to tell me that he hadn’t drank all week.” I heard my voice weaken, and I hated that I felt a lump forming in my throat over the situation. I hated that I cared, and I definitely didn’t want anyone to know that I did; even Matt. But of course, he knew anyways. I heard an empathetic sigh through the phone. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” I rolled my eyes, doing everything I could to keep the tears from falling. “It’s whatever. It’s not like I’m really losing much, but I did tell him that I’m done for good.” I forced my words to come out smooth, like I didn’t care. And I didn’t, not really.

“That must have been really hard, Y/n. I’m really sorry.” Matt’s words were sincere, and they caused the lump in my throat to grow even bigger. I forced out a laugh to keep my other emotions at bay. “Don’t be sorry. It’s better this way. Maybe now I can finally have peace in my crazy life.” There was silence on the line, and I knew it was because Matt wanted me to go deeper about my feelings, but I couldn’t handle much more tonight.

“Anyways,” I started, blinking away my tears and plastering a corny smile on my face as if Matt could even see it, “How have you been? We haven’t talked much over the past week.” At the change of subject, Matt picked up on my disinterest in the topic of my father, and like the best friend he is, transitioned into our new topic smoothly. “I’ve been good, been working a lot but it’s been on exciting things. What have you been up to? You know, besides today?” I chuckled softly.

“Honestly not much besides work. My boss has been really stressed out since the end of last quarter so I’ve been coming into the office early and staying well past five every day.” I paused, staring up at my ceiling trying to think if there was anything exciting I could tell Matt. Suddenly, I remembered that there actually was something that I had done that was more interesting than just working late all week. “Oh! I also got some new piercings last week.” It was Matt’s turn to chuckle.

“Y/n, how the fuck did you fit more piercings on your body?” I laughed. He was right, both of my ears were filled with every piercing imaginable, and I also had my nose, tongue, and belly button pierced. I had already told him that I would never get anymore facial piercings, and I certainly didn’t have much room on my ears to get more, so I understood his confusion entirely. “Do you want to guess where they are?” I teased, feeling relieved to have something to talk about that didn’t make be absolutely miserable for once. “Sure,” I heard what sounded like a blanket rubbing against the speaker, and I assumed that Matt was now getting comfortable in bed, also seemingly enjoying the light-hearted conversation, “But can I get some hints?”

“Sure,” I replied, “You can ask me three questions.” I heard him smile through the phone. “Okay…” There was a pause as he came up with his first question. “How many did you get?” Without hesitation, I was able to respond. “I got three.” There was another pause, and then. “Are two of them a part of a pair?” I laughed at Matt’s not-so-subtle guess. I had told him months ago that I had been wanting to get a certain pair of piercings for a while, and I knew he was thinking of that exact conversation. “Yes they are.” I replied, and there was a dramatic gasp on the line. “Ouch, you actually got your nipples pierced?” His voice was laced with playful concern, and something else. Intrigue?

“Okay okay, you got two out of the three. One more question left.” I encouraged him. If he was shocked about my nipple piercings, I couldn’t wait to hear his reaction to the third. He was silent again for a moment, surely confused by the third piercing. Nipple piercings weren’t that outlandish for me, and he knew that, but this last one is sure to blow his mind. “Oh god, I don’t know. Is it another body piercing?” His tone sounded so helpless, and I knew he really didn’t have a clue. “It is, yes.” I did my best to contain my laughter at this point, not wanting to give it away.

“Is it a second belly button piercing?” The guess was weak, and by the tone of his voice he knew it. “Nope.” I replied, biting my nails in anticipation. He was once again silent on the phone, and I knew he was officially running out of ideas. After a moment, I decided to give him one last hint. “Think lower.”

A new silence poured from the phone. Before, there was the silence of deep thought. Now, there was a heavier silence that let me know he finally put it together in his head. Below your belly button, there aren’t many places you can get pierced. He knew that just as much as I did. But I didn’t know if his silence meant he was just shocked, or if he was genuinely disappointed in me. For the first time since becoming friends with Matt, I felt nervous that maybe I had gone too far.

“You’re serious?” He asked, finally breaking his silence, and I couldn’t help but release a short, nervous laugh. “Yeah. Why? Did I just delve too far into the daddy-issues stereotype?” I tried to keep my tone humorous, but inside I was actually worried that was true. Did he think I was weird now? Or did the fact that I had a piece of metal pierced atop my bundle of nerves immediately turn me into some dirty whore in his eyes?

“No! Jesus, no Y/n.” His rushed words put a pause on my spiralling thoughts, and I felt myself relax slightly. “It’s just,” In that moment, I wished that I could see his face. At least then I would have better odds of being able to read him instead of just waiting helplessly on the other side of the phone. He was struggling to find the words he wanted to say, and in my mind that meant he was getting ready to give me some sort of lecture. It wasn’t something that he was in the habit of doing, but I had also never done anything as shocking as this before. I began to prepare myself for this lecture, and come up with explanations and excuses for what I had done, when his hesitant words stopped me in my tracks.

“Can I see them?”

I stared at my phone for a second, unsure if I was just hearing things. “You want to see them?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking, for clarification’s sake. I was shocked. Even with how close Matt and I are, we had never ever seen each other naked. In fact, there had been no physical intimacy between us other than platonic cuddles every once in a while. I would be lying, though, if I denied ever having moments of weakness. There had been times, when we would have sleepovers after tough days and the heat of Matt’s comforting body pressed against me, where I had wanted to throw all logic aside and press my lips to his. But I never would have done it. Matt wasn’t exactly known for his boldness, and I feared that my bad habit of being spontaneous would absolutely destroy our friendship. But now, he had me questioning all of that.

“I’m curious.” He replied, his tone nonchalant. I still couldn’t tell if he was being serious, and I felt like a deer in headlights. Just as I was about to tell him to stop fucking around, my screen lit up with a Facetime call from Matt. My stomach did a flip. “You gonna pick up?” His voice made me jump, but I cleared my throat and hit accept.

Suddenly, Matt’s face filled my screen. He was in his bed, the only light in his room seeming to come from a faint source; likely his computer screen. His face was so familiar, and the smile he sent me so comforting, that I immediately felt more at ease than I felt before. “Hey.” He said gently, and I laughed at the ridiculousness of this moment. “Hey” I replied before shifting my position in bed nervously. “So you were serious?” I asked awkwardly, and he nodded. “If you’re okay with it, obviously.” I took a deep breath. I was okay with it, of course, but it was just so out of the norm for us that I felt shell shocked.

“I’ll show you nipples first.” I said, sitting up in my bed before grabbing the bottom hem of my oversized t-shirt. I positioned my phone in front of my still-clothed chest, and watched his face on the screen. He laid naturally in bed, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but the way his dilated blue eyes were glued to the screen I could tell that he was feeling the same kind of anticipation that I was. Slowly, I finally lifted my shirt up over my chest; allowing him a full view of my new piercings.

I intentionally left the shirt up to block my own vision, because I couldn’t handle watching him stare at my tits for the first time. In the dark, all I heard was silence for what felt like forever, and I got worried that I had somehow lost him. Cautiously, I pulled my t-shirt away from my eyes, and glanced at him on the screen. He was staring intently; I could see his eyes move from one tit to the other every few seconds, and there was a slight grin across his face. “Wow.” He said finally, still taking them in. “Those are sick piercings.” I stifled a laugh at the fact that he was still trying to act like it was all just about the piercings, and that there weren’t two tits attached to the metal. “Thanks.” I replied, a small chuckle still evident in my voice.

I allowed him a few more seconds of shameless staring before speaking again. “You ready for the third?” I watched as he blinked a few times and took a deep breath. “I can’t wait.” He replied, causing my stomach to do another flip. I brought the phone back up to my face as I laid back down, smiling at him nervously as I pulled my comforter off my lower body. I was only wearing a pair of panties, so I already felt shy when I positioned my phone in between my legs. I used the front camera still, hoping that it would allow him a better view, but hated that you could still see the lower part of my face.

Matt hadn’t moved in his bed since I looked at him last. In fact, it almost looked like his image was frozen. His eyes were still glued to the screen, and he seemed to be barely blinking; as if he was scared that if he did, he would miss it entirely. “Okay, ready?” I asked, using the hand that wasn’t holding the phone steady to grab onto the side of my panties. Even in the almost-dark of his room, I could see him gulp before nodding his head. “Ready.” He replied.

Slowly, I hooked a finger under my panties, and pulled them to the side. In the blink of an eye, all of me had been revealed to Matt through a screen inches away from my core. My eyes veered back and forth from myself in the phone and Matt’s expression. I could see the shiny metal glitter against my pink clit, and watched as Matt visibly struggled to keep his composure. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and I felt myself begin to tremble under his shameless stare. I grew nervous, then, that my body would begin to give away how suddenly aroused I became under his eyes. My core was flooding with heat, and I knew that I was beginning to grow slick with my wetness.

“Does it hurt?” He finally spoke, but his voice had changed drastically since I had last heard it. It had dropped nearly a whole octave, and there was a sort of breathlessness to it that was foreign to me. It was the voice of arousal, and that knowledge was enough to drive me crazy. “N-no, it doesn’t,” I replied, using all the strength in me to not squeeze my legs together to relieve some of the pressure flooding my core. “It’s been a week, and these sorts of piercings heal really quick surprisingly. I can touch it and everything.” My last sentence fell from my mouth thoughtlessly, and I immediately felt my cheeks grow hot at my accidental boldness. That didn’t last long, though, because Matt’s next words pulled all that heat right back to where it was before.

“So touch it then.”

It was like all the sense was knocked out of me from his words. I would have thought that my instinct would have been to laugh and roll my eyes before telling Matt to knock it off, but the seriousness of his tone, the sharp blue of his piercing eyes, and gruffness of his voice caused my brain to shut off. Immediately, my hand traveled to my bud, where I began to slowly play with the metal. Although I had been telling the truth when I told Matt that it was fully healed, I hadn’t yet touched myself in this way since getting it pierced, and the new sensation immediately sent pleasurable shock waves through my body. As I began to slowly rub my clit, the metal added a new level of pressure to the nerves that — combined with the adrenaline that came from doing this in front of my best friend for the first time — caused me to throw my head back against my pillows.

“Tell me how it feels.” Matt’s deep voice filled the space around me in a way that made me feel even more erotic, and I released a soft moan. “I-It feels good.” I replied breathlessly, my fingers beginning to move quicker as I squeezed my eyes shut in pleasure. “Better than before?” His question came out slightly choppy, and through the phone speaker I heard the rhythmic shuffling of his comforter. “Y-yes. Much better.” I managed to reply, the thought of what he was doing to himself on the other side of the screen pushing me closer to the edge.

“Look at me.” He commanded, and without hesitation I lifted my head up; looking at him through the screen. He could only see the lower half of my face, but I could see all of his. As I continued toying with myself, I watched him through fluttering eyelashes. Although his face had not changed much — besides the darkening of his pupils and the faint accumulation of sweat on his brow — the repetitive movement of his bicep at the corner of the screen told me everything that I needed to know. “You look so good.” He complimented me, his voice low and gravelly. I moaned in response, rolling my hips slowly as I began to grow antsy with a need that I knew I couldn’t fulfill myself.

The pleasure was growing like a balloon deep inside of me, but my own fingers weren’t enough to reach it. Not now; not when I have a beautiful man that I trust more than anyone else watching me with that dangerously erotic gaze. Just like Matt knows everything about me, I know everything about him. And so I know that, in this moment, he wants the same thing that I do. That’s why I didn’t feel any unease or hesitation when I drew my fingers away from my clit, ran them achingly slow along the rest of my heat, and spoke.

“Please come over Matt.”

It was a request that I had made to him countless times. Those times I was usually close to tears after a long day of dealing with the shitty cards I had been handed in the family department. I needed him then, like I need him now. In those times he never ever hesitated, and this time was no different. In one swift motion, I watched through the screen as Matt lifted himself out of his bed, threw on a t-shirt, and grabbed his keys off the bedside table. “I’ll be there in ten.” Just like my request, his response was the same as always. As I told him to drive safe before hanging up the call, I felt my body vibrate in a way it never had before. I pulled my hand out of my panties and waited in desperate anticipation for the familiar sound of his car pulling into my driveway.

𓆩☆𓆪

Matt arrived at my place in eight minutes, and as soon as I saw his headlights through my window, I sprung out of bed and raced to the door. There was no nervousness, no reluctancy, no questioning whether or not we were making a big mistake; all I knew was that I needed his hands on my burning skin desperately.

I flung the door open before he even had a chance to knock, but Matt didn’t hesitate before pulling me into him and engulfing my mouth with his own. Although we had never kissed before, it wasn’t shock that I felt in that moment; it was the melting satisfaction of familiarity. I practically collapsed in his arms as his mouth moved against mine as if they were two pieces of a puzzle, and relished in the feeling of his hands travelling wildly across my aching body at last.

As he held me gently against the wall, I felt his hardened member press against my core, and I shuddered in pleasurable frustration. In that moment, I could have lost all self control — pulled his pants and boxers down in one movement and slipped his cock into my aching core right then and there — if he hadn’t grabbed onto my ass and lifted me off of the ground. Without removing his lips from mine, he carried me past my entrance way and all the way into my dark bedroom as if he had memorized every square inch of my place.

As he continued to kiss me with hungry desire, he paradoxically draped my body gently against my bed. Leaning over me, his mouth refused to leave mine and his tongue begged me for entrance. I obliged, and our tongues swirled together with comfort; as if they were old friends. The sound of our heavy breathing filled my head, and I ran my hands along his body; allowing myself to feel him in a way I never had before. Each part of him felt familiar — his back, his arms, his stomach — but each new part of him I touched set off sparks of electricity under my fingertips. This was real, and this was good.

It was only after I began toying with the waistband of his pants, and he the hem of my shirt, that our lips separated and we really looked at each other since the moment he arrived. Both of our chests were heaving as we tried to catch our breath, and I gazed up at his darkened eyes for what felt like forever, until a soft smile crept onto his swollen lips. “Hi.” He said, and I released a short laugh realizing that this was the first word either one of us had said to the other since hanging up the Facetime call. “Hey.” I replied, a smile matching his now etched onto my face.

“Can I take this off?” He tugged on the bottom of my t-shirt, and I nodded. “Please.” I replied, feeling no shame in my clear desperation. Matt obliged, pulling the shirt up over my head and exposing the tits he had seen on Facetime not long before. There was a pause, and for the first time since we started all this I felt briefly insecure. That is, until I looked up to his face and saw his jaw physically dropped in awe. He looked like he had fallen into some sort of trance, and mindlessly brought his two gentle hands toward my hardened, pierced nipples. He ran a soft thumb against each piercing, and I hissed at the deliciously taunting sensation.

“Do these ones hurt at all?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but his eyes never left my chest. “These ones do a little, yeah.” I replied, to which his eyes finally fluttered up to my face with slight concern. “But it’s really not that bad.” I added, reassuring him out of fear that he might suddenly not want to continue. This seemed to help, as his eyes made their way back to my chest before his body suddenly began tilting forward. He leaned above my chest, really only centimetres away, and I watched as he placed two small, unbelievably gentle kisses against each hardened nipple. The ecstasy I felt in that moment caused me to release a soft moan, and goosebumps spread across my skin like wildfire, and I suddenly realized that I needed him more than ever.

As if reading my mind, his mouth then began moving slowly down my writhing body. He took his time on my sternum, then the skin below my belly button, then my hip bones, and I felt like I could explode. My hands flew to his hair and I subconsciously tugged at its base in decadent frustration. And then slowly, so, so, slowly, Matt began dragging my soaked panties down my legs. I felt like I could crumble under his gaze, but his eyes never left my newly exposed core. Blinking ever so slowly, he dropped to his knees and grabbed my shaky legs to part them. Once he did, I watched as he groaned softly at what he saw.

I knew without having to look that I was literally dripping from arousal, and that hunch was confirmed when Matt took one finger and dragged it along my slit; collecting the overabundance of fluid. He didn’t even take his eyes off of my centre, he just brought his wet finger to his mouth and wrapped his lips around it; so transfixed by what he saw in front of him that he didn’t even care to make a scene of tasting me for the first time. I had never felt more glorious than I did in that moment, and it was so overwhelming that I could have came just from sight alone.

Slowly, Matt’s mouth inched closer and closer to my clit, before he carefully wrapped his lips around it. Upon the first contact of his warm tongue playing with the cool metal of my piercing, I was hit with a powerful wave of pleasure that shook my whole body. As he picked up speed, swirling and sucking my bundle of nerves, I couldn’t control the sounds that fell from my lips. Moans of pleasure, pain, and anticipation filled the room, and they only seemed to draw similar ones from Matt.

Matt slid two fingers into me with ease, and began pumping them in and out in rhythm with the movements of his tongue. His fingers were curled up to just the place I needed them to be, and I felt what was left of my sanity begin to crumble as I approached an orgasm. The orgasm that I had been desperately needing since our Facetime call. It’s impending presence had taken control of my mind for what felt like forever, and now it was finally threatening to take control of my entire body. Yet, still, I needed more.

Quickly, before the first waves could crash, I pulled Matt’s face away. Immediately, his blissed-out expression quickly changed to one of concern, but before he had the chance to speak, my desperate voice filled the room. “Please Matt, I want to cum with you.” His features softened before understanding flashed in his eyes. Without saying a word, he stood up and began unzipping his pants. I waited in anticipation, watching with hungry eyes as his painfully hard member sprung free from his boxers. Once he had fully discarded his clothes, he leaned down and kissed me so deeply that I saw stars. His mouth tasted like me, and I couldn’t help but slip my tongue past his lips; intoxicated by the combination of me and him on my tastebuds.

I felt his naked member press against my core and I shuddered from pure lust. I was so engulfed in the intensity that I was afraid I would fall into pieces as soon as he slid into me. Breaking the kiss, Matt straightened himself out and grabbed my legs before placing them on either side of his waist. The two pieces of us that needed each other the most right now were just inches from one another. My eyes fell between my legs, and I watched in euphoric awe as Matt grabbed his swollen member, lined it up with my centre, and slowly pushed into me. His movements were so torturously, deliciously slow, my eyes rolled and my head fell back onto the mattress.

On each slow roll of his hips, his cock slammed into my g-spot and made my vision go spotty. I held onto his flexed shoulders like I was drowning and they were my life raft, and I released harsh guttural moans each time my walls stretched; welcoming him graciously. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Matt’s raspy voice fluttered my stomach, and I opened my eyes to come face-to-face with him. He was staring down at my contorted face with a look filled with nothing but pleasure and adoration. His flushed cheeks and dark pink lips gave him a look that bordered on innocent, but there was a certain hint of hard focus in the depths of his ocean eyes that told me he was feeling as good as I was.

Each time he thrusted into me, the soft crest of his pelvis brushed ever so lightly against my new piercing; granting me a new form of pleasure that I had never experienced before. I had been told by other people that the piercing can be intense during sex, but I had underestimated just how intense it would be. I had no sense of control as Matt’s cock continued to drive into me, and I couldn’t help but vocalize how he was making me feel.

“J-just like that Matt, fuck!”

“Your c-cock fills me s-so go-od!”

“H-harder, please baby!”

At my last statement, Matt showed he was listening by suddenly slamming into me harder and faster than I had ever felt before. He grabbed my legs and wrapped them tightly around his waist, and as I arched my back in pleasure he draped one of his arms around it and used the other to hold my jaw; brushing it lightly with his thumb to ensure me that his gentleness had not completely disappeared. His breathing quickly grew more and more rapid, and deep grunts fell from his mouth every few seconds.

I was hit with shockwaves of pleasure upon each of his thrusts, and I knew that my orgasm was closer than ever. I dug my nails into his back and tightened my legs around him in a desperate and subconscious attempt at getting as close as possible to him, and it was clear that there was no stopping the orgasm that was bubbling inside of me. “G-gonna cum Matt.” I squeaked out, rolling my hips up slightly deepen his thrusts even more. “Good girl, want me to cum with you?” His words were in my ear, and even the dampness that his mouth made against my skin added to my unraveling euphoria. Beyond the point of being able to speak correctly, I simply nodded my head frantically.

As I did, Matt released the deep moan that pushed me over the edge. My orgasm took control of every cell in my body, and I cried out in overwhelming pleasure as it tore me to shreds. I felt my body stiffen so much that I was practically lifting off of the bed, and my walls pulsed intensely as I squirted violently all over Matt. Just then, I felt Matt’s body stiffen above me, and his movements became a whisper as he cursed into my ear. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” His moans rang in my ear with each of his weak thrusts, and I felt his twitching cock paint my walls white as he came undone in unison with me.

Eventually, his body stilled completely, and he rested above me as we both caught our breaths and came down from our highs. His cock slipped out of me, and I immediately felt cold and empty in its absence. After a few moments, Matt lifted his head from my shoulder and gazed at me with a soft smile on his face.

“Damn.”

“I know.”

”I mean, that was-”

“I know.”

We continued to stare at each other, both with matching smiles on our faces, until I dissolved into childish giggles.

“What?” Matt asked, unable to keep himself from laughing as well. “What?” He asked again, nudging my shoulder gently as I giggled. “I mean come on,” I continued to laugh, “That was crazy. Don’t you think it was crazy?” I looked at him, starting to feel the first hints of regret now that it was over and we had to go back to being friends. “I don’t think it was crazy.” He replied simply, before bringing his lips back to mine. This kiss was different than the other ones we shared tonight, though. There was no hunger, no lust. There was just love.

He pulled away after only a few moments, and I looked back at him with what I was sure was confusion all over my face. “I have never felt less crazy in my life than I’ve felt tonight.” Matt continued, and I felt my stomach flutter, “Tonight, everything finally feels right.” I felt a bashful smile form on my lips. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel the exact same way. “So,” I started, unsure of how to maneuver this, “What now?” Matt got up.

“Well,” He began, grabbing his discarded t-shirt and using it to gently clean me up, “It’s late and you’ve had a long day, so I think we should get some sleep.” I propped myself up on my shoulders and watched as he began to clean himself next. “And then when we wake up tomorrow, we’ll go get some breakfast and talk about what we both want.” He walked into my adjacent bathroom and started the shower, the way he has done a thousand times before, before walking back to where I was and helping me off the bed.

Once I was on my feet, he placed another gentle kiss against my lips, and I felt my insides melt at the comfort of his touch. “But if I’m being completely honest, which you know I always am, I think we both already know we want the same thing.” I looked up at him through nervous eyelashes, and had to chew my bottom lip to stifle the massive smile that was threatening to take over my mouth. Matt had no problem showing his huge smile, and he tilted his head quizzically in my silence. “Am I right?” He asked, and instead of responding with words, I leaned up and placed a kiss of my own on his lips.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Off the Court

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: T (Teen)

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Word Count: ~2.5k

summary: private life can sometimes affects professional life..

🏷️: @yailtsv

I slammed the door harder than I meant to, my breath coming out in short, angry bursts.

Screw this. Screw her.

Paige and I had fought before, but this? This was different.

She’d canceled on me again. A date we had planned two weeks in advance, something I was actually excited for. And when I called her out on it? When I told her how much it hurt that she kept bailing?

She laughed. Like she had the actual audacity to fucking laugh in my face.

Laughed, shook her head, and said, “You’re being so dramatic right now.”

And when I didn’t respond, just stood there feeling like an idiot, she sighed, rubbing her temples like I was the problem. “Babe, I’m busy. You know that. I don’t have time to be up under you every second of the day.”

That was what broke me.

I took a slow breath, looking her dead in the eye. “Go fuck yourself, Paige.”

Then I grabbed my stuff and left.

She didn’t come after me.

The next day, I ignored every notification about the UConn game. I didn’t want to think about Paige, didn’t want to see her, didn’t want to care.

But my phone would not stop buzzing.

KK: Paige is terrible right now. Fix this.

Nika: if I have to watch her miss another shot I’m benching her myself

Ice: embarrassing for all parties involved

I sighed, gripping my phone tighter. It wasn’t my fault she was playing like garbage.

Then my screen lit up with an incoming call.

KK.

I groaned but answered. “What?”

“Where are you?!” KK’s voice was urgent.

“In bed,” I said flatly.

“Get up,” she ordered. “Come to the Pavilion. Now.”

“KK—”

“No, listen,” she cut in. “Paige is killing us. She’s missing everything, turning the ball over, playing like she doesn’t even know how to breathe properly. We need this win, and we need her to pull it together.”

I swallowed hard. “Why are you calling me?”

KK groaned. “Are you serious? Because you’re the only one who can fix this. She’s in her head, and we both know it’s about you.”

I hesitated. “I don’t think—”

“Please,” she said, exasperated. “If we lose because of this lesbian drama. Your lesbian drama. I’m never speaking to you again.”

I sighed, running a hand down my face. “Fine.”

“Good. You have fifteen minutes.”

By the time I got to the locker room, halftime was already halfway over.

The second I stepped inside, every head turned toward me.

“Oh, thank God,” Nika muttered, throwing her hands up like I was some kind of miracle worker.

Paige was sitting on the bench, head down, elbows on her knees. She looked wrecked.

I cleared my throat. “P, baby.”

Her head snapped up so fast I thought she might get whiplash.

“You’re here?” Her voice was quiet, uncertain.

“KK called.”

She swallowed hard, nodding. “Right.”

I crossed my arms. “You’re throwing the game.”

She exhaled harshly, running a hand through her hair that she let fall freely to relieve the tension in her head. “I know.”

“So fix it.”

She scoffed. “Easier said than done.”

I took a step closer, lowering my voice. “Paige, your team needs you. They need you to focus.”

Her eyes met mine, and I could see it—everything. The frustration, the regret, the way she was still thinking about last night.

“I can’t when I know you’re mad at me,” she admitted.

I clenched my jaw, but eyes softened looking at her. “Oh, my sweet baby.”

“I didn’t mean it,” she rushed out. “What I said—I was tired, and frustrated, and I was a dick.”

I didn’t say anything, just watching her.

“I don’t think you’re clingy,” she continued. “And I don’t think you’re dramatic. You just…you care. And I’ve been taking that for granted.”

My chest tightened.

“I miss you, ma” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t play right when you’re not there, or when we’re not right.”

Silence settled between us.

Then—

“Oh my God,” Nika groaned. “Are you guys gonna make up now? Because we have a game to win.”

Ice nodded. “Yeah, wrap up the gay shit and let’s go.”

Paige let out a small, breathless laugh. “You staying?”

I hesitated, but then sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be courtside.”

She exhaled in relief, standing up. The moment she walked past KK, KK smirked.

“She’s so gay for you.”

Paige flipped her off without looking back.

The second half started, and it was immediate.

Paige was back.

She sank a three within the first thirty seconds, then stole the ball on the next possession. The crowd roared, the energy shifted, and suddenly—UConn was UConn again.

With a minute left, they were up by four. Paige drove to the basket, hit a perfect layup, and sealed the game.

The buzzer sounded.

The team erupted, the Pavilion shaking with cheers.

Paige turned to me instantly, finding me on the sideline. She didn’t hesitate.

She sprinted over and grabbed me, kissing me in front of everyone.

The team lost their minds.

“Oh, come on,” Nika groaned. “Can y’all be normal?”

Aubrey gagged. “This is so disgustingly gay.”

Aaliyah sighed. “I feel like I shouldn’t be witnessing this.”

I pulled back, breathless, forehead pressed to Paige’s. “You’re gross and sweaty.”

She grinned. “You love me anyway.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue.

Nika clapped her hands. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s go. Post-game interviews first, make-up sex later.”

I choked as Paige laughed.

KK shook her head. “Next time y’all fight, schedule it for an off day.”

Only for coach Geno to hold his hand up to give KK the high five she’s been craving because of her statement.

I laughed, shaking my head.

Yeah. We were okay.

---

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                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ teddy’s notes: “nova” is reader’s hero name! the quirk’s details are not discussed in this chapter but i have a good idea of it and if you wanna know more about reader’s quirk i will make a post about it bc i dunno if future chapters will involve a fitting scene or wtv!!

part 1 here | part 2 here

mondays were already bad enough. but this? this was a nightmare.

you had barely stepped into your agency when your personal assistant greeted you with a suspiciously delighted expression.

“what,” you said immediately, already sensing trouble.

“nothing,” she said, way too cheerfully for a monday. “you should just… check the news.”

you narrowed your eyes but took the tablet she offered.

the headline alone nearly made you choke on your coffee.

“DYNAMIGHT AND NOVA: PRO-HERO RIVALS OR… LOVERS?!”

oh, for fuck’s sake.

before you could even process that, the attached video started playing—footage from a crime scene yesterday.

you already knew what had happened in that video. bakugou had taken a nasty hit, bleeding from a gash on his leg, and as always, he refused to sit the hell down. in response, you had shoved a hand against his chest to physically stop him from moving.

but of course, the camera angle made it look like something entirely different.

the way your hand was fisted in his suit. the way his face was inches from yours. the intense eye contact, the sharp words exchanged (which, okay, you’d admit, maybe sounded a little too much like unresolved romantic tension in a bad drama).

and the internet had already run wild with it.

you scrolled further. someone had screenshotted the moment and captioned it:

“just kiss already.”

another person had made an edit—dramatic black-and-white filter, romantic music, slow zoom.

somebody else had photoshopped a wedding veil on you.

“you have got to be kidding me,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

your assistant bit back a laugh. “oh, it gets better. bakugou’s seen it.”

your phone buzzed before you could even respond.

speak of the devil.

you sighed and answered.

“you see this bullshit?” bakugou barked immediately.

“good morning to you too, dynamight,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“the fuck is wrong with people?!” he continued, completely ignoring you. “are they stupid? why the hell would i—”

he cut himself off, too frustrated to even finish the sentence.

“look, I don’t like it either,” you said, sighing. “but it’s not like we can stop people from making up whatever they want.”

“the hell we can’t!”

“so what, you wanna go on national tv and tell everyone you hate me?”

“yes!”

“right,” you deadpanned. “because that wouldn’t make this worse at all.”

bakugou went silent. probably realizing, to his horror, that you were right.

“listen,” you continued, scrolling through more cursed memes. “this’ll blow over in, like, a week. people will find some new drama, and we can both forget this ever happened.”

“tch.” bakugou still sounded pissed, but at least he wasn’t yelling anymore. “whatever. i’m still gonna kill whoever started this.”

“good luck with that,” you muttered.

he grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, then hung up.

you set your phone down with a sigh, only to realize your assistant was still watching you, grinning.

“what now?” you asked, already exhausted.

“nothing,” she said, in a tone that very much meant something.

you glanced back at the tablet. the news site had updated.

“DYNAMIGHT RESPONDS TO RELATIONSHIP RUMORS—‘I’M GONNA KILL WHOEVER STARTED THIS.’”

you closed your eyes.

this was going to be a long week.

[obxanon]

Addressing the OBX drama and the speculations:

Was JJ’s Death planned?

No, Rudy asked to leave the show. It wasn’t something the writers planned. He didn’t want to renew, the writers were rightfully upset and then decided to kill JJ off.

Did the writers/producers create an uncomfortable set?

No, they didn’t. This post is not true. The brothers were never inappropriate.

Was Madison a bully on set?

I’ve seen a post going around of someone saying Madison was a bully, controlling the set, and bluntly treating Rudy and crew members like crap. That is NOT true. 

Was Rudy’s decision sudden?

Yes and No. No as in he let the Pates know ahead of time he didn’t want to continue (some time during the strike, so they had time to change what was already written). Yes, as in they were shocked by it.

Was there on set drama between Rudy and the Pates?

Yes, there was many disagreements/personal problems during s4. Yes, Elaine was involved and so was Lilah Pate. They are civil now.

Why did every ship but Jiara get a still?

The jiara still does exist but idk why it was not released. My source doesn’t know either and I don’t want to spread something not true. Rudy and Madison took pictures just like everybody else did.

Why did the cast chemistry seem off in part 2?

They shot episodes 1-5 first, THEN 10, then 6-9. The cast didn’t know rudy asked to leave until they received the script for episode 10. You can tell there was a drastic change between JJ and Kiara in part 2 because after the cast found out, Madison was upset with Rudy and his decision, so she didn’t put in as much effort into the scenes with him. She was upset because she knew that would mean the near end of obx and her character… in a way.

Was there alternate endings?

Yes, but that was only because they wanted to see if rudy would change his mind. There was even scenes where a funeral was shot (obviously they didn’t air it so I’m assuming they’re saving it for s5). From March-June of 2024, they spent the entire time doing reshoots of some scenes. That is why some things don’t make sense.

Did Rudy and Madison talk on set?

Yes, but not closely or anything. They’re not friends, they just did the scenes they had to do and that was it. All those people saying they’re hiding their friendship from the cameras or whatever… that is not true sorry. The pates can’t force them to act like best friends as long as they were doing their scenes.

Why did Jiara have “less” than everybody else?

It’s true that Jiara scenes were toned down. Part of it was Rudy asking for it. Madison didn’t care as much. Another part was just Rudy and Madison not doing more than what the script asked.

Was Elaine uncomfortable with Jiara scenes?

Yes, and she has been since s2. It got worse during s3 and obviously s4. That was part of the conflict.

What is the Rudy and Madison Drama?

Obviously what happened between them is private. It wasn’t the fans. The fans were more so the catalyst to something that had been brewing. 

It is true that the girlfriends are involved and that they weren’t happy. Madison hurt Rudy, but not by being a bully. It was emotionally. The feeling was then returned on his end and it just got worse from there. It didn’t help when the girlfriends and fans were involved. It is true that it’s not a coincidence this happened when they both got involved with relationships. Most of you have speculated correctly, that is all I will say. I think you know by now what I’m trying to say.

Also when I say fans, I don’t mean the “shipping.” They never cared about that. What I do mean is that all this drama happened when Jiara fans were at their peak. Them wanting to see those characters together put Rudy and Madison in a problematic situation because they knew they couldn’t avoid each other on screen. Instead they just did so off screen.

Should the Writers/ Directors/ Producers stepped in?

Yes, but what I need you guys to understand is that these writers were basically father figures to those actors. They watched them grow their careers, supported them, made them who they are now. It’s hard when you spent so much time with each other and became a genuine family. Even their conflict with Elaine was hard because Jonas knew her family, his wife treated her like a daughter, and lilah treated her like a sister. They had every right to be bitter because from their POV, it’s basically like “hey I trusted you to bring my project to life and now I’m being forced to go in a direction I never wanted to go in.”

What’s going on behind the scenes right now?

A mess. They knew it would be bad but infact it is worse and they know that.

Am I reliable?

Honestly I don’t care if you believe me or not. You didn’t before and I got attacked (literal death threats in my inbox). I’m just a messenger. I’ve given you info before and clearly I didn’t lie about it. It’s up to you to decide.

[satsugacafe]

𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒/𝐎

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: Grimmjow, Starrk, Ulquiorra

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Hello! Can I have a request? How would Starkk, Grimmjow, and Ulquiorra adjust to a human world with human s/o?

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I had too much fun with this piece lol. Enjoy!

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: How they adjust to living in the human world with you.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Coyote Starrk

↬ Starrk found the human world baffling, mainly because of how noisy everything seemed compared to Hueco Mundo. Car alarms, the hum of electricity, and people chatting endlessly in cafes had him constantly muttering, “Do humans ever shut up? Where is the off switch?”

↬ He had a lazy charm that worked in his favour. He would somehow manage to get free samples from the bakery down the road just by looking mildly interested. “You know, this human world isn’t so bad when they hand out food for no reason.”

↬ Teaching him to use modern appliances was a trial. He once accidentally turned the vacuum cleaner on full blast and almost blasted himself through the wall. “This thing’s alive, isn’t it?”

↬ He was a natural with animals, though. Dogs adored him, and he could walk into a park and have a pack of strays following him within minutes. You joked he was assembling a canine fracciones.

↬ He had an odd fascination with pigeons. He’d sit on park benches for hours, watching them mill about, occasionally throwing them crumbs. “They’re like tiny, less annoying Lilynettes. I like them.”

↬ Cooking became a mild obsession for him once he realised how much variety the human world offered. You caught him watching cooking tutorials on your phone. “Why do they all say, ‘easy recipe’ when this involves twenty steps and an oven I barely understand?”

↬ He was incredibly protective in the human world, though it didn’t show in dramatic ways. He’d keep you on the safe side of the pavement, steer you away from crowded areas, and shoot deadly glares at anyone who even glanced at you wrong. “Humans don’t know their place sometimes. Annoying, really.”

↬ He once tried going grocery shopping alone and came back with entirely the wrong things. You asked for bread and milk; he brought back jam and six bags of crisps.

↬ You introduced him to Netflix, and he became addicted to crime dramas. He liked to critique the criminals’ plans. You also caught him talking to your cat one afternoon, a very serious conversation about naps. “Listen, furball, if you don’t appreciate a good nap, what’s the point of life?”

↬ He was baffled by your human obsession with coffee. One morning, after trying it for the first time, he leaned back, his eyes narrowing at you. “So you willingly drink this dirt water every day?”

↬ Every time you mentioned going to work, he’d dramatically throw himself across the doorframe. “No. Stay. Your world’s already loud enough—don’t leave me to suffer alone.”

↬ Sleeping in the human world was oddly peaceful for him. He would stretch out on your sofa, claim half the bed without meaning to, and casually drape an arm over you. Just don’t let him sleep on a water bed. Worst sleep of his life.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez

↬ The feral kitty cat was convinced humans were weaklings until you took him to a gym. He ended up challenging some poor bloke to a weightlifting contest, won, and then complained it wasn’t a fair fight. Eventually, exercising was his idea of fun. He got addicted to the gym, showing off during pull-ups or weightlifting. “You watching? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

↬ Adjusting to technology was a nightmare. He refused to admit he didn’t know how to use a phone and kept swiping at the screen like he was challenging it to a fight. “Why doesn’t it do what I tell it to? Stupid thing.”

↬ He got into trouble almost daily. One time, he scared a street performer by growling when they asked for a tip. You had to stop him from picking fights with random joggers. “What? They were staring too long. Looked like they wanted a challenge.”

↬ You tried teaching him how to cook, but he turned it into a battle. “Fire’s too weak. How do you even boil water in this thing?” He ended up burning toast and proudly declaring it a success.

↬ He was surprisingly good with kids, though he’d never admit it. Once, a group of kids challenged him to a game of football in the park, and he got way too into it. You had to stop him from trash-talking a ten-year-old. “What? They need to toughen up!”

↬ Animals adored him, which annoyed him to no end. Dogs would trot up to him on walks, wagging their tails. “What’s your deal? Go away!” But you caught him sneaking them pats when he thought you weren’t looking.

↬ Grimmjow got jealous easily in the human world. If anyone flirted with you, he’d casually stand behind you with his arms crossed, glaring like an angry kitty ready to pounce. “They can look somewhere else unless they want trouble.”

↬ You introduced him to video games, and he was instantly hooked. He preferred fighting games and made it his mission to beat you every time. “Don’t hold back, or I’ll make you regret it.” When he finally lost, he pouted for hours.

↬ He mocked human horror films relentlessly. “This is supposed to scare you? I’ve seen Hollows scarier than that guy with the knife.”

↬ He hated wearing human clothes at first and complained endlessly about jeans (like those skinny jeans Urahara gave him lol). “These things are like a prison for my legs!” Eventually, he settled for hoodies and track pants, which he grudgingly admitted were “not bad.”

↬ Going out to eat was chaos with him. He’d order the spiciest thing on the menu just to prove he could handle it, then spend the rest of the meal pretending his face wasn’t red. “I’m fine. This? This isn’t hot at all.”

↬ He did love human food but refused to admit it. “What’s this crap? Tastes alright, I guess.” Yet you caught him hoarding spicy crisps and chugging fizzy drinks like they were going out of style.

Ulquiorra Cifer

↬ The fourth Espada treated the human world like a scientific experiment, observing everything with quiet fascination. You once caught him staring at a vending machine for ten minutes before he asked, “How does it decide what to give you?”

↬ He doesn’t understand the need for human social practices, like small talk. When someone greeted him with, “How are you?” he replied, “That is irrelevant,” and walked away, leaving you to apologise.

↬ He had an unexpected knack for blending in. His quiet demeanour and neutral expression made him oddly suited to working in your local library. The librarian adored him for his efficiency, though he refused to smile at patrons. “They do not need my emotions to find a book.”

↬ He doesn’t understand sarcasm at all. When you joked about him being a terrible flatmate, he replied, entirely serious, “Then perhaps I should leave.” And then proceeded to depart.

↬ Was very baffled by human food. You once handed him a chocolate bar, and he stared at it like it was a piece of alien technology before taking a cautious bite. “This…is acceptable.” But no spicy food, please.

↬ He was deeply confused by human emotions. Once, you cried watching a sad film, and he frowned. “Why are you leaking from your eyes over something fictional?”

↬ He adapted to human clothes surprisingly well, favouring monochrome outfits that matched his Espada uniform. You teased him about looking like a model, and he replied, “If that is how humans perceive me, it is irrelevant.”

↬ Ulquiorra had a habit of silently appearing behind you, scaring you half to death. When you yelled at him, he tilted his head and said, “If your reaction is fear, then perhaps your spiritual awareness is lacking.”

↬ He found rain fascinating. One evening, you found him standing on the balcony, staring at the sky as water drenched him.

↬ Despite his stoic nature, he had a protective streak. Once, a stranger got too close to you, and Ulquiorra stepped in, his gaze cold. “You are intruding. Leave.” The stranger bolted without another word.

↬ He often left you cryptic compliments. When you asked if he liked spending time with you, he’d say, “Your presence is…not unpleasant. That is sufficient, is it not?”

↬ He found the human world illogical but not without value. One night, as you both watched the stars from your balcony, he quietly admitted, “You humans…are fragile, yet endure. It is strange.”

©satsugacafé 2024: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[yoonia]

A Christmas Fix — 01 (m) | kth

⟶ Summary | One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

With special collab prompt: "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."

⟶ Title | A Christmas Fix

⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader

⟶ Genre | Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au

⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting/morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, minor body insecurities (implied), some family drama; involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, one night stand, drunk sex (with clear consent), minor dom/sub dynamic, brat!reader, size kink, rough sex, light choking, restraint, hair pulling (M, F), protected & unprotected sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.

⟶ Word count | 25,363 words (of 54,773 words)

⟶ Story Notes | Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @kpopfanfictrash, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs) | Moodboard was done by me | Posted in: January 31st, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Author Notes | I know that this is so late, but December has always been a rough month for me and this time it continued until January. I hope you can still enjoy this story regardless. Happy belated holidays and happy new year, my loves!

⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢

⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⟶ Read on AO3

One month ago…

You already had everything perfectly planned out when you first thought of this trip some long months ago. 

Everything. 

From your personal bucket list full of wonderful things that you wanted to experience during your time away and the places that you wanted to see, down to the smallest details that you could possibly think of to be able to enjoy every single moment of your secret getaway.

Just like the red dress that you had chosen to wear tonight. The dress you had meticulously picked and bought to wear on the trip as you went to celebrate your newfound freedom. 

In your well-thought-out plan, you were supposed to have landed on the tropical island you were headed to by sundown. The warm tropical breeze should have been embracing you at the start of your trip instead of the cold, chilly wind flowing right outside these walls. 

By this evening, you should have already settled in nicely in the comfort of your hotel room right by the beachside. The calming sound of the rushing waves outside your window was the sound that you should have been listening to while resting from your long flight. 

You had pictured yourself embracing your freedom in a foreign land. To feel the soft sand slipping between your toes as you were playing chase with the rushing waves, and to find calmness that you could only get far away from the treacherous city where you came from. 

The trip was meant to help you mend your soul. Perfectly planned out as an escape from reality and leave all of your past hurt behind before starting a new chapter of your life. 

And yet, no matter how thoroughly you had it all planned out, somehow life simply found a way to mess it all up. Just like how it had always been. So perhaps you shouldn’t have been so surprised when it happened to you again, just when you thought that you had everything under control. 

You should have seen the signs long before everything started crumbling down.

The sky that kept growing darker ever since you left the city. The constant turbulences happening during your first flight that made the trip feel intense. The unsettling feeling you met the moment you landed in this place for your transit. The constant announcements echoing through the airport about flights that were getting delayed and cancelled while you were getting no news about your transit flight’s departure. 

You should have been prepared to face reality, keeping in mind that life hadn’t been so nice to you lately to let you slip away that easily. Yet your stubbornness prevailed. And after your most recent predicament, you needed this trip to happen. You needed to be right. 

After all, you have made it all the way here. It would have been impossible for you to return home, wouldn’t it?

So you remained in denial and were so stubbornly holding onto hope that you would soon be taken away from this place towards your dream destination. Even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. 

But after long hours of waiting, you were finally forced to accept your fate, letting go of any hope you had left to escape this place when they officially cancelled the rest of today’s flights due to unresolved weather issues. Including yours.

“I’m sorry, but we really can’t promise you anything at this moment. There will be no flights until the storm passes and our pilots are cleared to fly again. Until then, we have nothing to tell you.” 

The staff’s swift response to your inquiries about getting on the first flight available to take you to your destination only left you with a dead end. Even flying back home was no longer an option, only because that would only mean that you were admitting defeat. 

And that was how you ended up here tonight, stranded right between the daunting city that you called home and the paradise that you wished to be in until an unforeseeable future. Your dream of enjoying the night in the comfort of the beachside hotel room overlooking the wide, clear ocean, had been replaced with the reality where you had to spend overnight at the airport’s transit hotel that the airline staff helped book for you. 

You released a sigh as you leaned back against the elevator wall. Recounting the events again only brought back all the terrible mood you were having. And it didn’t help that the last message that your roommate sent you only reminded you of your setback. 

From Skye: Just checking on you on your secret getaway. I hope you’re having a blast right now. I wish you’d tell me where you’re heading so I can have a good reason to be jealous. Be safe!

Another sigh came from your lips as you wondered—

Now how am I supposed to answer her text? 

Before you could find an answer, the elevator doors opened as it reached the lobby downstairs. You put away your phone as you stepped out, and immediately got lost in your thoughts. Your mind once again getting too loud as it keeps you company. 

At first, you had no intention of hiding this trip from her. Yet all the circumstances leading to this weekend had made it hard for you to share anything to anyone.

You were planning to wait until you were finally there so you could surprise her with pictures from the beautiful beach or your comfortable hotel room. Showing her the pretty nighttime scene from the tropical island would have been a nice way to flaunt your secret getaway rather than boasting it when your fate had been filled with uncertainty. 

But instead of having an evening walk down the beach, you were trudging across the lobby inside an airport hotel, accompanied by the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floors instead of having sand soiling your feet. 

And the view outside the window that you got to see earlier had been nowhere close to the pretty beach with its white sand and rolling waves. Instead, you had a clear view of the dark night sky, painted with the raging storm and its blaring thunders so strong they almost caused the entire bedroom to shake. Neither showed any sign of calming down any time soon, leaving you with no other choice but to do what you could to enjoy your temporary stay.

And you were going to start doing so by having a quick drink to help you unwind for the night. 

The red dress that you were wearing might seem a bit excessive for a nightcap, but for a short while, it helped you forget where you were. It felt almost as if you were walking in a dream as you strolled down the lower lobby in search of the hotel bar. 

Entering the hotel bar, however, became another wake-up call. 

The bar was quite large for a transit hotel, accommodating the patrons filling the place tonight. You had hoped that you could have a dance or two with a friendly stranger before retreating to your hotel room to rest, yet the closed-off lounge area had more space filled with box seats than the open dance floor. The seating area was the only place in the bar which was dimly lit, allowing the guests some privacy while they settled in with their drinks. 

The small chandeliers glittering from the ceiling were far from the hanging lights that you pictured hanging in a beachside bar. Just like the one place you had seen pictures of while planning for your trip. The lights you were seeing here made the entire space beneath seem luxurious, spreading a soft golden glow over the wary faces trying to enjoy the night. 

The pulsing bass that came out of the speakers was enough to drown the sound of the violent storm happening on the other side of these walls, further helping to create an illusion that you were in another place. That you were somewhere else instead of being stranded inside an airport hotel, together with all the strangers who seemed to be facing the same fate as you did. 

You made your way towards the main bar, suddenly feeling hyperaware of your surroundings. Even without looking, you could feel people’s eyes following your movements. Yet you paid no heed to them. You were only here to quiet down the raging storm happening inside your head, after all. 

A strong scent of old wood took over the bar area. Mixed in with the excessive scent of air fresheners and cleaners, it was enough to remind you that you were miles and miles away from the beautiful island where you had been so desperate to be. 

Smoothing your palms down your red dress, you took one empty seat at the bar. You caught the bartender’s eyes as he walked past, and within moments, a glass of strawberry daiquiri ended up in your hand. 

This feels nice, you wondered to yourself as you sat back and tried to relax.

One sip of the sweet alcoholic drink was all that it took to refresh your mind. As the warmth from your drink ran smoothly through your body, any doubt and wariness you felt began to fade. 

The next sip of the drink managed to ease your thoughts down a bit more. It helped push away the reminders of your troubles to the back of your mind. Finding calmness, you took another quick look at your surroundings.

The seating lounge seemed to be filled with guests more than the main bar was. Stranded travellers like yourself. At first glance, the nicely dressed men in suits made it seem like you were in a bar downtown. As if they were nothing more than a group of businessmen seeking leisure on a Friday night with drinks. 

It only took you looking a few seats away from them for the illusion to shatter. Your eyes fell on a group of men and women wearing their summer clothing who were making a toast, acting as if they were at the peak of their vacation. 

Looking at the scene made you realise that you weren’t the only one feeling miserable tonight. You wondered just how badly these people here needed to forget. How many of them here might be similar to you, stranded in an unexpected situation while trying to escape reality? 

You raised your glass to hide your bitter smile. The smooth liquid continued to flow through your body and you slowly began to find some peace of mind. Before you knew it, you had finished your drink, though you weren’t exactly ready to return to your cold bedroom. 

“Can I order you another glass of drink?” 

A deep voice invaded your senses after a long period of silence, and it was coming from your side. You had been far too deep in your reverie that you didn’t even realise that someone had taken the empty seat right beside you at the bar. 

Curious to see this friendly stranger, you slowly turned around to look at him. And what you saw in him nearly took your breath away. 

A tall, lean man was sitting there. His slick hair had a few curls at the end of each strands, and he had combed them back, leaving nothing more than a few stands framing his handsome face that looked almost as if it had been sculpted by the fine hands of masters in art. His sharp nose and jawline drew your attention, while his deep and soulful eyes that appeared like pools of rich mahogany drew you in, as if he was hiding a story behind his intense gaze. But it was his plump lips that formed into a smile which caught your eyes the most.

At your silence that stretched out while you were busy being captivated by him, he raised his eyebrows. It made you realise that he was waiting for your answer. An answer to a question that you had so obviously missed. 

“I’m sorry?” 

He tilted his chin to point at your now empty glass. “You look like you could use another glass, and I’d love to get one for you,” he said with an amused tone of voice. 

Once again, his deep, velvety voice hit you deeply. It resonated through your body, and a shudder ran down your spine. You refused to believe that he was able to cause this effect on you solely through his voice or his pretty smile. 

But how else would you explain the reaction that was drawn from your body? 

I don’t think I’m that drunk already, you wondered.

It was probably the way he spoke to you which affected you so much. The way he was asking a question with pure confidence. As if he already knew your answer, and that it would be impossible for you to refuse his offer. 

And he wasn’t completely wrong about it. 

What remained from your sullen mood immediately shifted in his presence. And while you have no intention of turning him down, you decided that you were not going to make things easy for him. 

“An interesting offer that seems like such a waste for me to refuse,” you sweetly said to him, smiling as your eyes fell on his empty hands. “But how would a woman feel at ease to accept such an offer from a man who isn’t even holding a glass in his hand?” 

He squinted his eyes at you, which only made his gaze feel more intense. “Are you afraid that I might be planning to get you drunk?” 

You softly laughed. “Not sure if I should be so worried about that. Getting drunk tonight has always been my initial plan all along,” you coyly said, hiding the fact that it was never your intention to get wild tonight. But his appearance intrigued you enough to change your mind about ending the night so soon.  

The mysterious man remained oblivious to this as he laughed with you. His wide, almost boxy grin mesmerised you in an instant and you were once again left speechless. 

He waved his hand to grab the bartender’s attention. It was nothing more but a simple gesture, yet you were somewhat drawn to it. To him.  

While he greeted the bartender, you took the chance to have a better look at this man. You noticed that he was a bit different compared to the other men that you saw around you earlier. 

Dressed in a black jacket over his plain white shirt, he didn’t seem as sophisticated as the stranded businessmen in their flashy suits sitting together at the bar’s lounge. Yet he had a different level of confidence which was enough to make your cheeks feel warm. 

In your eyes, he was alluring, almost as intensely as the dark storm happening outside. And you couldn’t resist being pulled towards him. 

“Another glass of the same drink for the lady and a glass of grasshopper for me,” he smoothly spoke as he ordered the drinks for you.

The bartender nodded and went to work, while you slid closer to him. His fresh-scented cologne immediately hit you, and your confidence nearly wavered that you almost slid back. But then he caught you with his gaze as he turned back to you, giving you the kind of attention which boosted every bit of ego you had. 

“So you also prefer something light and sweet. How intriguing,” you teased him, bringing back his alluring grin. 

“Why do you think I came here to join you? It was obviously for the fruity drinks and to have someone to drink it together with,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Before you got to say something in return, the bartender came back with his order. The man took a sip of his drink first before you took yours. Once again, the sweetness from your drink swirled through your body, chipping away at the tension that had been weighing you down ever since the day’s saga began. 

“To be honest, I also thought that you were looking a bit rough.” His remark brought your attention back to him. The tease was gone from his voice. All that was left was a gentle concern that seemed genuine. “And you looked like you needed a friend. That’s why I invited myself to join you.” 

It makes you feel uneasy to think that you were being so transparent. So much so that a complete stranger like himself was able to see right through you. 

“You think so? Wait until you hear how rough I’m feeling inside as well,” you bitterly said to him, drawing a soft smile to his face. 

“That makes the two of us then,” he said to you gently with his eyes on his glass of drink. There was a forlorn look in his eyes as he slowly twirled the glass, causing the liquid to swish around before he took another sip from it. 

“Care to share?” you questioned him before you could stop yourself, only to pull yourself back. “Sorry, that sounds creepy. We just met and here I am, prying into someone else’s business,” you nervously laughed.  

His gaze softened when he looked at you. Furthermore, he also seemed intrigued. 

“No, not at all.” His voice was calm, and it somehow helped to calm your nerves. “I was just about to lend an ear in case you needed someone to vent to. I never expected that you would be a step ahead of me before I could make the offer.” 

The comment he gave you made you feel warm inside. 

“Mine’s a long story,” you bitterly said to him as you raised your glass, almost giving in to the urge to take a hefty drink and finish it off when everything started coming back to you again.

The reason behind this trip, why you were stranded here on your own, while being far, far away from home, and all the drama that had gotten in the way when you had been so desperate to get away from everything. 

Unsurprisingly, the man merely shrugged. “I’ve got time to spare. My flight won’t leave until tomorrow. And that is if they’re allowed to fly out of here at all.” 

You smiled at him. “Same here. I guess we’re both stranded here all night, huh?” 

He leaned in just then, invading your personal space and filling it with his presence. And you didn’t even mind it as you leaned into him, meeting him halfway to welcome him into your little safety bubble. 

“And I was worried that I might get stuck feeling lonely while being stranded in this place,” he gently murmured, drawing a smile to your face.  

“I doubt that you would end up alone tonight,” you teased him, simply because there was no possible way that someone as attractive as he was would be returning to his hotel bedroom alone. 

His smile grew, yet the deep, dark look in his eyes shifted into something else. Something naughty and sinful. It made you feel a new sensation brewing inside even without him ever having to touch you. 

“Is that an invitation?” he asked with his deep voice that came grazing at your skin. 

Normally, you wouldn’t know what to say in return. It had been so long since you played this kind of game with someone. With anyone. But his presence and his words were drawing something out of you. A part of you that you never thought existed. And you surprised yourself when you played along, taunting danger head-on as you challenged this handsome stranger before you— 

“Would you like it to be?” 

Something flashed in his eyes. It was dark and intense, and it was sucking you in. It brought a myriad of sensations that unexpectedly went straight down to your core. 

In the deep silence that fell right after, the world around you faded. Even before you got to know his name, before you had the chance to share your story, you already knew the answer that he was about to give you as a response to your question. 

And you also knew right then, that the sparks that came rising around you were something that you would never be able to easily forget, even if every bit of memory you had about him would fade over time. 

Present…

Why do I keep thinking about that night all over again?

You can only wonder, as you keep being reminded of that eventful night. 

Weeks, nearly a month have gone by ever since, yet the memories seem to have been engraved deeply in your thoughts. And today, even though you haven’t really been thinking about it since, you suddenly find yourself having no trouble recounting everything that happened then. 

Well, almost everything. 

Some parts may seem blurry now. All due to the passing of time and the fact that you were partly inebriated at the time. But you can still recall some parts of the night that had clearly left a strong impression on you—the first encounter and the conversation you shared before alcohol took over, the instant attraction that you felt, but most of all, his entire presence. 

And they all have been coming into your thoughts while you are sitting here in the corner of your bathroom. Alone. With your arms wrapped around your folded knees and your eyes closed. As if you are waiting for a miracle to happen. 

You scoff at the thought. 

Right. Miracles. 

Years have long passed since you stopped believing that miracles do exist. Life always has its way of blindsiding you with its twists and turns that miracles no longer seem to matter anymore. 

Not for you, at least. 

Your past experiences have only caused you to look at it with sceptical eyes, sometimes even with bitterness, knowing that life has never been on your side. 

But here you are now, wishing, praying, holding onto hope that there would be a miracle to stop you from getting into a messy situation. One that you know you wouldn’t be able to handle on your own. 

After all, the perfect season of miracles is right around the corner. So it wouldn’t be so wrong for you to have some faith in them again now, would it? 

Your phone starts blaring with the sound of the alarm, snapping you out of it. Slowly, you rise on your wobbly feet. It feels as if your entire body has grown numb even before you get to face reality as it comes glaring back at you. 

Clutching onto the edges of your bathroom counter, you try to hold yourself together, and immediately failing, as you look at the two thin white strips lying on the cold counter and feel your entire world tilting off of its axis. 

All because of the two red lines that are clearly visible on each strip.

“Oh, fuck,” you softly groan. Deep down, you had already predicted this. Yet you kept denying it, hoping that you would be wrong.

“No, no, no—” you continue murmuring to yourself while wishing that you could somehow turn back time and change everything before things started going the wrong way. 

Back to this morning, when your roommate caught you—once again—throwing up last night’s dinner before handing you the unopened pregnancy test packs that she has been keeping safe in her room with the premise, “Just in case.” 

Or maybe you could return to last night when she pointed out your odd cravings—like dipping apples into peanut butter and eating leftover mac and cheese straight from the fridge without warming it in the microwave first—and joked about how you have been acting like a pregnant woman with your mood swings. 

Better yet, you wish you could go back to that night, back to that many weeks ago, when you allowed yourself to fall for a stranger’s charm which led you to spend the night with him. 

You close your eyes, once again murmuring to yourself, “This has got to be a dream.” 

But the moment you open your eyes again, nothing has changed. You are still standing there with your hands holding tightly onto the edges of the bathroom counter. And the two pregnancy test kits that you used are still lying on top of the counter for your eyes to see. 

A rapid sound of knocking on the bathroom door sends you jumping back. 

“Hey, ______? Is everything okay?” you hear your roommate, Skye, calling out for you. Her voice seems calm, yet when you recall hearing the sound of her footsteps moving back and forth outside of the door while you were taking the test, you know that she has been waiting just as anxiously as you were. “So—? What does it say?” 

Still in shock, and quite stuck in denial, you open your mouth only to have no words coming out of you. Your brain feels a bit hazy as you walk up to the door and open it for her. 

Skye takes one look at your face and her gaze softens. “What did it—” She shakes her head. “Oh, never mind, I’m dying to know. Let me see it,” she says as she brushes past you before you can say anything. 

Hoping that there is a chance that reality can change within the next few seconds, you refuse to turn around and once again close your eyes while she suddenly grows quiet.

Maybe you were just imagining things. Maybe you weren’t even looking at the test properly. Maybe—

“So, uhm—” you can hear Skye’s voice trembling a little as she hesitantly asks you, “Two lines mean it’s positive, is that right?” 

And just like that, every bit of hope you have in you flies out the window. “I wish I could say that it’s the other way around,” you softly murmur, feeling defeated. 

And the feeling grows stronger when you hear her cursing under her breath,

“Well, fuck.”

“What are you doing?” you ask Skye as you gingerly take a seat on the sofa. 

Once you both stepped away from the bathroom, she guided you to the living room while she sauntered away to the kitchen without a word. You can hear the noises she makes as she is busy rummaging through the counters. Yet you are too far away to see what she is up to. 

“Hang on a minute. Stay there,” she calls out without even looking. 

“Okay.” 

It’s not like you have any energy to go anywhere, after all. Your head is still spinning and you can barely feel your legs. It feels as if you are stuck in a bad dream and you just can’t get out of it. 

It doesn’t take long before Skye returns to your side, carrying with her two clean tall glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It was the same bottle that you opened when you celebrated your promotion a couple of weeks ago after coming back from the trip. 

Holy shit, you inwardly cry out. Your heartbeat rises as your hands find their way to your stomach. 

“Okay, let’s try to calm down,” Skye says to you as she places both glasses on the table before you, although it seems to you more as if she is talking to herself instead of reassuring you while you are panicking inside.

A couple of weeks ago? Wouldn’t I have been already pregnant then? 

These thoughts keep running through your head as you watch your roommate pouring wine into both glasses, just like the night she did the same when you first opened that same bottle. 

Dear God, how much did I drink that night? You ask yourself with a grimace as you try to remember. 

Wait, no. I didn’t drink anything, you remind yourself. Relief washes over you look back at the celebration night where you barely took a sip before Skye took the glass away from your hands. 

Because you were already feeling sick that day. 

You had been feeling nauseous for days, throwing up once in a while and mostly on the days when you were lacking sleep because of the workload you had to handle for the upcoming promotion. All you ever did was wet your lips with the wine after the celebratory toast. That was the only contact you made with the drink before Skye replaced it with a tall glass of alcohol-free smoothie that she made especially for your ‘upset stomach’.

Of course, how did I not see the signs? You wonder again as you remember the sickly feeling you had after vomiting each morning and feeling powerless for the rest of the day. It even got so bad that you had to skip work for a couple of days at the beginning of your ‘sickness’. 

If only you knew then. 

Your eyes are still on the wine glasses as Skye places them side by side and puts away the bottle. 

“Uh—I believe we both just saw the two lines appearing on the test packs.” 

She lets out a light scoff and waves her hand at you. “They're both for me. I’m going to need them while I process this,” she says, shaking her head as she sits down to join you on the sofa. “You get to keep that smoothie.” 

You follow her gaze and look down at the glass of smoothie that you left on the table during the whole fiasco with the pregnancy test. While you pick up your drink, Skye takes a hefty drink from one of the glasses of wine and sits back. 

“So—you’re pregnant,” she murmurs to herself. Her gaze flickers to your face for a brief moment and nods to herself before taking another drink. 

Why does it seem like she is the one panicking? 

She releases a sigh. Neither of you says anything for a moment. But you can tell when she grows more anxious by the minute. You don’t understand why, until she carefully asks you, “Are you going to tell Han?” 

Confused, you look at her with your brows furrowed and ask, “Why would I tell Han that I’m pregnant?” 

Skye looks genuinely confused, almost as much as you are, and you only realise the reason why when she asks you, “Isn’t Hansol the father? You guys have been dating for a long time and I can’t remember ever seeing you with anyone else while you’re on a break.” 

You wince, realising too late that you have yet to tell her the truth.

“Actually—we’re not on a break,” you slowly admit with a low voice. Months have gone by, and even though it no longer hurts whenever you start thinking about your failed relationship or to mention your ex’s name, you cannot help but still feel bitter about how it ended and you hate talking about it. 

That is the reason why you haven’t said anything about it to anyone. Maybe you were just too embarrassed. After all, it isn’t so easy to admit that you may have been the reason why the four-year relationship fell into pieces. 

“I lied,” you say with a burst of deep sigh, “It was over, done, finished—”

“So you already broke up?” she cuts you off with a calm voice. 

You bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod your head. “Yeah,” you whisper, suddenly feeling like your throat is tightening up. Not because you feel the sudden urge to cry. But only because this is all becoming too much to take at once.  

“And the baby?” she carefully asks you. “It wasn’t Han—” 

“The baby isn’t his,” you quickly answer before she even gets to question about it. 

It’s hard enough to hear his name being mentioned after a while. It feels harder to think that you might be carrying his baby. 

But the moment those words come out of your lips, reality finally sinks in. Grabbing the glass of your drink, you take a hefty drink out of it. You wish there was some alcohol in this thing. Maybe it would have helped you think more clearly. 

That’s right. It couldn’t have been his.

Sighing to yourself, you begin to do the math. “We’ve been broken up for months, so if the baby is his, I’m sure I would be showing already by this time around,” you say this while gently rubbing your palm over your stomach. 

Now that your suspicions have been confirmed, the gesture feels almost natural to you that your hand simply moves before you realise it, though it helps confirm that nothing much has changed with your body.

It feels odd to think that there is a life existing inside you, yet you cannot really see it with just one look. This convinces you further that the baby couldn’t have been conceived while you were still dating your ex. Looking back to it now, once you remember when exactly the sickness and craving started, it would only make sense that the baby was conceived on that specific night. 

“So—if Hansol isn’t the Dad, then who was it?” 

Biting your lip, you turn to look at Skye. Of course, if there is anyone in this world that you can talk to about this, it would only be her. Just like how she would come to you first whenever she is in a bind, whether it’s about her relationships, about work, or even the smallest things like having a bad day where you end up sharing a tub of ice cream to feel better. 

After all, she isn’t just a roommate, but also someone you have known the longest compared to the other friends you’ve made since moving into this city. You have known each other since college, since back in freshman year when both of you were nothing more but young kids from small towns being thrust into the big city. 

Being put together in the same dorm room led you to become fast friends. After years of enduring the same hardship in college, the two of you remained so close that you even moved to this city together and continued to live in the same place to keep each other company. 

You have gone through everything with her, and you have always been honest with each other. It should have been easy to tell her everything. If only you could find the right words to begin sharing your story. 

“I have no idea where to start.” 

“Well,” Skye patiently says while twirling the glass of wine she’s holding. You squint your eyes at her when you find it almost empty. So unfair. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” 

“Right. From the beginning,” you say this with a nod. “Do you remember when I went away last month?” 

She nods. “Your secret getaway. Still jealous of that, by the way.” 

You give her a small smile. “Yeah, well—there’s a reason why I insisted on going alone on that trip. I actually planned it as a surprise vacation for me and Hansol. The original idea was for us to have a romantic getaway for our fourth anniversary.” 

Skye raises her eyebrows. “Well, damn,” she mutters. “Let me guess. You broke up before it happened?” 

You grimace as you recall what happened. “Close enough,” you answer with a bitter smile. “It was because of the trip that we got a huge fight in the first place.” 

Skye tilts her head. “I’m not following.” 

Sighing, you drink your smoothie to cool down and swallow the bitter feeling you are suddenly getting. Recounting the break-up isn’t so much fun to do. Not even after this long. 

“I planned the entire thing on my own. Booked the flight and the hotel, and rearranged our schedules to fit each other so we could go on that exact date. But I never shared anything with him, except to confirm that it was a place that he also dreamt of going so we could both enjoy it together.” You let out a defeated sigh. “I wanted it to be a surprise. He used to love those in the past, so I figured it could be fun to celebrate our anniversary this way and get away from all the stress both of us had been getting.” 

You stop talking for a moment to remember those days. Both you and Hansol had been so busy back then that you could barely spend time with each other. 

It was the exact routine every day. Having long hours in the office and since you weren’t living together, you could only keep in contact with each other through texts and calls. By the time the two of you were able to see each other, all the stress had been piling up that you were almost always arguing and fighting instead of making up for all the time you missed while being apart. 

“We were talking about moving in together but all of a sudden, we stopped discussing it and I could feel us growing further apart. I thought going away from all the stress for a while would help us get along and make up for all the fighting. Maybe we could have had a chance to talk things out and figure out what to fix.” 

You stop with a soft sigh. “We were getting bored. With work, with life, and maybe we did get bored with each other but neither of us could open up about it, much less admit it. Not even to ourselves.” 

Skye lets out a groan. “This is why I don’t do relationships,” she mutters before finishing her drink. The first glass. With the second one waiting on the table.

You give her a scoff, but smile at her comment before continuing, “He found out about the trip by chance. I was still logged in on his laptop after I borrowed it to check on my work email while I was staying over on the weekend. He accidentally opened the booking details when he was checking his email, thinking it was his account. He suspected me of planning to go with someone else, but even after I told him that the trip was for both of us, he wasn’t having it.” 

Skye leans forward when she hears this. “Wait, he’s pissed about a secret vacation?” she asks, looking unhappy and confused at the same time. You can’t really blame her. Because that is exactly how you feel about your ex’s reaction. “Why would he be? If it had been me, I would’ve been ecstatic about going.” 

“I wish I knew,” you groan, feeling just as frustrated as you had been then. “But he wasn’t just refusing to go. He started blaming me. Saying something about me holding him back or something. He said he had no time for a trip when he needed to be there and work for his promotion.” 

Thinking back to that day, remembering about the fight and the things you said to each other, you are reminded of the moment the fight left your body. Because you knew then that there was nothing left to fight over. 

“He never even brought up the fact that it was the date of our anniversary. I don’t think he even knew or remembered it,” you say with a bitter chuckle. “He broke it off, saying that he wanted to focus on his career and I would be keeping him behind. And I agreed because I knew that we’d wound up hurting each other if we’d stayed.” 

“I can understand that,” Skye gently says. The two of you share a sad smile when your eyes meet. “And you still went on that trip,” she guesses, sounding proud. She lifts her glass to you and says, “Good girl.” 

You merely shrug. “When I went to cancel the tickets for the trip, I thought it would be such a waste to throw everything away. So I decided that going solo would be a good idea and kept mine. Besides, I needed a moment to heal myself and get away from the city for a short while.” 

She laughs, agreeing with you. Then, just as she is about to say something, she suddenly stops. A knowing look comes across her gaze and she slowly gasps. “Don’t tell me—” she says, “You met someone while you were there.” 

You nod your head slowly and press your lips together. “Once again, you’re close. But that’s not exactly what happened.” Blowing out a deep breath, you slowly ask her, “Remember when I told you that I got held up for a day in transit?” 

“Yeah, I was so jealous of you that I still remember everything you told me about that trip,” she lets out a dreamy sigh, then her gaze snaps back at you. “But, it seems to me that you haven’t told me everything about the trip.” 

“No, I didn’t.” You grimace. “Anyway, that’s when I met him—” 

The memories return to you again as you share with your roommate about your encounter with the beautiful stranger. You remember vividly the way he spoke, the deep and gentle voice that he spoke to you with, and his captivating smile that made you swoon. Everything about him that made it hard for you to leave and say goodbye to him. 

You recount the way you enjoyed each other’s company that even after your terrible mood gradually became much better, and after you finished yet another drink, you simply couldn’t walk away and end the night with him so soon. You stayed longer, losing count of the time you spent with him and the drinks you had. 

“And then, one thing led to another, it just happened.” 

Skye’s eyes have grown so wide at this point, and her jaw has dropped in her surprise that she looks almost comical. “You hooked up with a stranger during your transit?” she asks you. The moment you nod your head, she switches her empty glass with the other. “I would drink to that.” 

You laugh just as she takes a hefty drink as if celebrating on your behalf. “Why do you sound so proud of me?” 

“Well,” she slowly starts, “We’ve known each other for so long. You have always been so put together, always followed the rules, and you are always so good at what you do. From school, to work, even the little things you have been doing on the side. But not when it comes to your sex life.” 

You know that she is right about everything. But it doesn’t stop you from picking up a cushion and hitting her with it. 

“Hey, you know I’m right,” she says while laughing and protecting the precious glass of wine. “Come on, you’ve never had any casual relationships or random hookups, and every chance I could have gotten to hook you up with my guy friends was gone when Hansol came into the picture.” 

Pouting, you pull the cushion back and hold it tightly in your arms. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admit with a sigh. “How do you get to know me so well?” 

“That’s because I love you enough to pay attention,” she smugly says while waving her glass around, sloshing the wine everywhere. “Why do you think I’ve been so protective of you over the years?” 

You roll your eyes and hit her with the cushion one last time, making her laugh, even though she is right. For as long as you have been friends with her, she has always been like an older sister to you. Not only for coming hard like a shield against the guys you ever introduced her to but also for the trivial things that not many people would pay much attention to. 

Like reminding you to eat properly when you are stressed out or too busy with work and school. 

You feel bad for relying on her so much over the years. But you also feel grateful about it. Just like how you’re feeling right now once you notice that you’re no longer feeling as stressed as you had earlier once you’re done dumping everything to her. 

Skye’s eyes turn back to you, landing on your covered belly as she curiously asks, “Are you positively sure that Hansol wasn’t the father?” 

You slowly nod your head. As much as you wish that you were wrong, you couldn’t have been mistaken about this.

“What are the odds that it was a false positive?” you suddenly question her, while she shrugs. 

���It’s possible,” she says. “But we can get some more test kits and redo the test. Just in case. Or you could make an appointment with the doctor straight away to make sure.” 

“Right, the doctor—” You let out a soft sigh and close your eyes briefly. It has been a while since you’ve seen your physician. The last time was before—

Oh, shit. 

Your eyes snap open right then. How long ago has it been since you’ve gone to see your physician? The last time was when you went to your regular appointment for your birth control. But that felt so long ago. 

Long before the trip. 

After that appointment, and once the break-up happened, you simply threw yourself into work so much you completely forgot about everything else. And since you were newly single, getting your birth control was the last thing you had in mind at the time. 

Fuck me, you inwardly groan without saying a thing to your roommate who is busy chattering about the doctor, making appointments, and offering to take you there herself. You know that she would lecture you about safe sex like a mother hen if you ever share this with her.

But wait…he wore a condom, right? Yes, you are quite sure he did. The details are blurry when you try to remember, but you do remember protection being involved. 

Groaning to yourself, you fall back on the sofa. Your head starts spinning again when you start worrying about other things. Once you start thinking of a problem that you may have to face, another one comes to mind. 

“What am I supposed to do with this baby?”  

Skye once again raises her eyebrows at you. “I think the right question should be what do you want to do?” she asks, while you can only shake your head.

“I don’t know,” you answer with a small voice. The only thing you can think of right now is how you are going to get through this holiday while being pregnant. You are supposed to be home for Christmas in two weeks, and knowing just how crazy your family truly is, you cannot imagine how they would react if they found out you are with a child. 

You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “And my family still have no idea that I broke up with Han.” 

“For once, I’m not jealous of your life,” Skye says as she sips her wine. But she is ready for it when you fling the cushion back at her and avoid it without spilling her drink. “Don’t worry. I think they’ll catch on about your failed relationship as soon as you walk into your family home without that hunk by your side.” 

Huffing, you hug the cushion in your arms and lean back. “I guess if they’re going to find out either way, I might as well just tell them the moment I got home.” 

Besides, it might be even harder to hide the fact that you are pregnant. You might not be showing yet, but there is no possible way you could avoid the questions that may come if you are still feeling so sick right in front of your family, or if your cravings suddenly get out of hand. 

Especially if Honey is there. Despite the early signs of dementia showing on her lately, your grandmother has always been so perceptive. And there is no telling what random things she may blurt out once she has some rum in her system. 

With so many different things to think about, you almost forget one important matter that you should be thinking about when it comes to the baby. And just like always, Skye is there to remind you of it. 

“Do you remember his name?” 

You turn to Skye with wide eyes, suddenly panicking inside. You can tell that she can see it on your face and is now sharing the same feeling when she suddenly knocks back the rest of her wine and groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna need more.” 

You watch her pour more wine into her glass, hastily drinking it right after, before turning to you again. “You didn’t get his name? At least tell me that you got his number before you went separate ways.”

You bite your lips. “It’s Tae.” 

“Tae—what?” 

You shake your head. “That’s it,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “That was the only name he ever gave me.” 

“Seriously?” 

Skye is freaking out, you can tell. But you close your eyes and rest your head back, shutting everything down as she starts ranting about how she was supposed to teach you better about hooking up with strangers and keeping yourself safe. 

With her voice turning into white noise at the back of your mind, your memories return to you, taking you back to the eventful night. 

You can almost feel yourself being back there again—back in the cold hotel bar with the scent of old wood and liquor lingering in the air; the murmuring sounds of people chatting and laughing, accompanied by the sound of glasses clinking together resonating through the space around you; back to his presence that felt so strong and intense you could barely feel anything else other than him as long as you had your attention fully on him.

“What’s your name?” You remember him asking you with his voice that grew more gentle and deeper the more he drank. 

You leaned into him and giggled in response as if he just said something funny to you. “Does it really matter?” 

His soft chuckle rumbled around you. The voice was so soft, yet you could hear it clearly because of how close you were leaning into him. “I’m sure I remember being taught not to talk to strangers.” 

“Are you telling me that you’ve been a good boy for listening to what your Mom taught you?” you teased him. It was obvious how tipsy you were at this point, which may have been the reason why you were growing more confident. 

“Oh, I’ve always been a good boy,” he answered you while looking amused. He went silent right after. His gaze seemed far away just for a fleeting moment before he finally said, “My name is Tae.” 

“Tae? That’s it?” you asked, “Is that a codename or something?” You feigned a surprise gasp before you leaned into him further to whisper, “Are you secretly a spy?” 

You felt his chest rumbling when he softly laughed. “Something like that, yeah,” he said, as he played along with your joke. 

But the moment you leaned away from him, you were surprised when you got to see something in him that you couldn’t see before. His guard was down, allowing you to see the vulnerability that was buried deep under his suave and smooth talking. 

For a brief moment, he looked broken. Just like you did. 

And from the way he was hiding himself, not only under the short nickname but also from the way he was masking his emotions, you could tell that he was looking for an escape from reality. The same way you did that night. 

So you simply smiled at him, choosing not to pry further to see beyond the mask and play along. Because at the same time, you wanted to hide your broken heart and become someone else to be able to forget everything. Just for one night. 

“Then you can call me Red. It’s my special codename for tonight.” 

His grin widened. You could almost see the relief washing over him through his warm gaze when he looked at you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you tonight,” he said, still with his gentle voice that almost felt like sin licking on your skin when he called you, “Red.” 

Two weeks later…

“Here you go,” your mother’s voice snaps you from whatever stupor you have been stuck in. When you open your eyes, a glass of ginger tea has manifested right before you. 

“Drink this,” your Mom says as she points at the drink. “It should be good for your stomach.” 

Your breath gets caught in your throat. Furrowing your brows, you keep your eyes on the drink instead of reaching for it. Thoughts of those past mornings when you and Skye spent searching through the internet to find a way to get rid of your morning sickness come through your mind. 

Does she know? Did she figure it out already? Is it really that obvious? 

You clench your hands and resist the urge to rub against your stomach. It has become a habit of yours to rub around your belly as if trying to feel the baby that is hiding inside whenever you feel agitated.

After getting the positive results through the home test kits, you had gone straight to the doctor only days before you left the city to have it checked, confirming that a baby is growing inside you. It still feels unbelievable to think about it, even after you saw it yourself with your own eyes. 

“It’s still really early, and we might not be seeing much yet, but that’s your baby,” the doctor’s voice echoes through your mind as you tighten your clenched hands, thinking back to the day you went to have an ultrasound and saw for the first time the growing fetus that was said to be viable to grow fully as a baby. 

Just like how the baby inside you has been nothing more than a blob of mass floating inside your stomach in your mind, your belly itself has yet to change shape. Even if your full awareness of the baby’s presence has only been causing you to find small changes in your body that nobody else might be able to see. 

But Mom has been pregnant before, so wouldn’t she be able to see it? Will that be possible?

“Ginger tea is good for nausea and will give you some energy boost. Your grandma always made it for me whenever I had a stomach ache. I’m sure it’ll help get rid of your nausea and your upset stomach will turn better in no time.” Your Mom stops talking and sighs. “You should’ve told me that you were sick. I wouldn’t have let you drive all the way home if I had known.” 

Ah. 

You breathe a sigh of relief. You should be thankful that she believed you when you told her about having an upset stomach from the long drive home from the city. It was the only thing that you could think of as an excuse when your Mom wondered why you hadn’t been eating well since you got back home and why you were feeling sick.

It makes you wonder why you have been feeling unwell since you got home. Just when you had purposely waited until you were well enough and had stopped throwing up when you planned for the drive. 

It’s almost as if the baby is deliberately making you sick to let everyone know about your secret.

“Thanks, Mom,” you say to your Mom as you reach for the tea, hiding your relieved sigh as you gingerly drink in small sips. 

You have lost count of how many times Skye has made you this drink specifically to stop you from vomiting in the morning before going to work. It has been helping a lot to ease your ‘sickness’, and you are feeling it calming your stomach already as the drink warms your body. 

You can feel your mother’s eyes on you, making you feel uneasy to be under her watchful gaze. “I think it might be better if you get some rest and take things easy. But are you sure you’re okay?” your Mom asks again, still worrying about you. 

You continue drinking the ginger tea slowly while pressing down your guilt. You hate lying to your Mom the most, and now you are starting to regret driving home on your own. If the baby hadn’t been the one responsible for your current sickness, then perhaps driving the long distance has been the reason why your nausea is now coming back with a vengeance.

So much for trying to not draw any suspicions. 

“I’m fine, Mom. Really,” you sigh as you place the glass down. “The tea is helping me already. I’ll feel better soon, I promise.” 

Your Mom says nothing for a moment, but the crease you see forming on her forehead says differently. “I’m not just talking about you being sick. Maybe there’s another reason why you’re feeling faint?” 

You look up at her just then. The moment you catch the pitiful look she is giving you, you finally understand what she is trying to say. 

Just as Skye predicted, it didn’t take long for your family to take notice of your solo arrival. In the past, Hansol would have joined you to visit your family for a day or two during the holidays before he would return to his family on Christmas day. So his absence was quite obvious from the get-go. 

And with the big lie that you have to hide from everyone at home, you had to at least give them one honest truth the moment they started asking. 

“We ended things a few months ago,” you admitted to your family during the first dinner you had since you got home. By that time, you had already tried to avoid the questions for long enough. Nobody has brought up about it again since then. 

Until now. 

“If you’re talking about the breakup, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m okay, Mom. It’s been months since it happened. I’ve been trying to move on.” 

In fact, you haven’t been thinking about your ex at all for a long time. Not until you brought it up to Skye and then again when your family started questioning. The only thing you have been worrying about lately is the baby growing inside you and finding a way to search for the father of the baby. 

It was the one thing that you talked about with Skye before you left. While you are capable enough to raise the baby on your own, you decided it would be the best course of action to contact the father and let him know.

In Skye’s own words, “Just in case.” 

Just in case the father would care enough to know that he has a son or a daughter coming into this world and wants to be in their life. 

“But if we fail to find him or he wants nothing to do with the baby, then we’ll deal with it on our own. You just got your promotion, I got my good pay. We can raise the baby together. You and me, just like old times.”

Skye’s words put a smile on your face. She always knows how to lift your spirit up whenever you feel like giving up, and those exact words have helped boost your confidence and made you believe that you could get through this. 

But first, you just need to get through spending this holiday with your family. 

“I know you said that. But as your Mom, I can’t help but worry. I thought you were serious and we’ll be hearing some good news about you getting married this year.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Sorry, Mom,” you tease her with a bitter chuckle. You don’t bother to mention that the two of you had never once talked about marriage throughout your relationship.

Yet another sign that you overlooked. At least you never got to waste anymore time with him.

“Things just didn’t work out between us. It happens when a couple grow into two different people in the course of their relationship. Which was exactly what happened to us. Hansol wanted to focus on his career, in return, I also got the chance to focus on mine.” 

Just as you said the words, you realise that this is true for your case. 

Hansol has always been career-driven, and it has been growing stronger lately for him with the constant rise he was experiencing in his current company. And breaking up with your long-time boyfriend has allowed you to turn your focus on your job. The recent promotion you gained was a testament to your hard work to show you that there might be a silver lining to everything that has happened. 

“I suppose you’re right,” your Mom says with a smile. You are beginning to feel a bit relieved that she seems to understand. You are hoping that she would start talking about something else when she adds, “I just feel sad that it didn’t work out for you. And we were all expecting to have Hansol joining us again this year. I guess it’s too late now to let your sister know about this since she’s supposed to arrive today.” 

Stepsister. 

You lift your glass and slowly drink your tea to stop yourself from correcting her. For some reason, you feel a bit bitter having your mother mention her all so suddenly. 

It isn’t that you hate your stepsister. It’s hard to feel something so extreme when you barely had any relationship with her at all. Back when you were younger, your mother did try to get you two to get along and be friends. 

To make her happy, you tried your best to act friendly, or at least to be cordial whenever she was around, even when the only thing she showed you over the years had been nothing but contempt. 

But things changed after a drunken fit that she had last holiday season, when she got drunk and tried to make a move and openly flirted with your then-boyfriend. Even if nothing ever came out of it except for her own embarrassment, as Hansol openly rejected her and stayed away from her for the remaining time he was here, the incident still left a bad taste that made you feel bitter. 

That was when you finally decided that you would stop trying to be nice.

You put down the glass and try to remain calm. What’s done is done. All you have to do is focus on getting through this holiday before going back to the city and start with your mission to search for the baby’s father.

“What does Alia have to do with my break up?” you ask your mother, hoping that she wouldn’t bring up the drama from last year. 

“Oh, it’s nothing serious, really,” your Mom answers with a soft chuckle, “It’s just that Alia called home sometime last week, asking if she could bring someone over this Christmas. She said that she’s been seeing someone new and since she was bringing him to meet her mother, she wondered if it would be okay if she could bring him along to meet us too.” 

Your Mom sighs, looking a bit guilty when she adds, “We figured since you might bring Hansol with you, it would be okay if she has her new boyfriend along. Maybe the guys could get along and spend time together while you and Alia catch up.” 

You try to imagine you and Alia catching up like old friends or—just like what your Mom has been wishing you to be—as sisters, and you almost shake your head. 

Yeah, that seems unlikely, you bitterly wonder to yourself, yet you don’t have the heart to tell your mother that there is not much hope for you and Alia to be good friends. 

“I guess it’s a shame that Hansol isn’t here,” you simply say to your mother while you inwardly wonder just what your stepsister is really up to this year. 

“Yeah, it’s unfortunate,” your mother says with a sigh. “But I’m glad that at least both of you girls can make it home this year.” 

“Me too, Mom,” you force a smile, silently hoping that you can start talking about something else. Something that doesn’t concern your bitter stepsister coming home or bringing up any dark thoughts about your ex. “So, what are we having for dinner? Want my help in the kitchen?” 

Your question immediately puts everything into motion, drifting her attention away from your sappy story and the false hope of sisterhood that may never happen between you and your stepsister. Your Mom tries to stop you from helping out in the kitchen at first but finally gives in when you keep insisting. 

At least, this way, you can keep your mind busy enough to stop it from thinking about unnecessary thoughts the way it often does when you are alone. 

Things seem to be going on well enough at first, until your sickness returns and you have to give up trying. 

”See, I told you that you should be resting until you feel better,” your mother complains as she watches you bending over, keeping away from the stove and what is currently cooking on top of it which seems to be making you feel dizzy and sick. 

After garlic, lemon-scented air freshener, and coconut milk, seems you are going to have to add raw chicken to the list of things that may trigger your nausea.

“But then I’ll be bored like hell,” you argue, “I’m fine, Mom. Just let me take a quick break for a minute.” 

Your mother looks as if she wants to say something, but the sound of a car coming into the driveway interrupts her. Both of you turn to look out towards the living room, just in time to see your stepfather, Cliff, turning in the corner of the hall and rushing towards the front door. 

“Honey, they’re here!” he calls out, and you urge your mother to join him. 

“Go, Mom. I’ll finish things up and make sure nothing gets burned before I join you guys.”

Once your mother is out of the kitchen, you can no longer resist pressing your palm on your stomach. 

“Seriously, baby,” you whisper to the non-existent bump under your sweater, “Please take it easy, will you? I’m really struggling here, and you’re not making things easy for me. Trust me, it would be too soon for everyone to find out about you. At least wait until we can find a clue about your Dad, okay?” 

As if the baby inside you is listening, even if it is still barely full-grown at this point, your body grows calmer and the nausea slowly wanes. 

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper to your stomach once again before finally focusing on the stove and the oven, deliberately taking your time with what you do just so you can have a reason not to join the dramatic reunion happening right this minute. 

From this side of the kitchen, the front door isn’t completely visible. But you can hear everything as the door opens and your stepfather joyfully welcomes his daughter. 

Hearing his voice makes you smile. You may have had a tumultuous relationship with your stepsister, but the same cannot be said with your stepfather. Cliff has always been a great role model, and your relationship with him has always been great from the start. 

It makes you feel guilty when you think about the previous encounters where you and your stepsister simply gave each other cold shoulders or when you were met with altercations just because of how different the two of you are. But there is no helping it. Nothing has changed over the years no matter how hard you tried. Not even once you have become adults. 

You can’t even remember how it first started. And frankly, you no longer care. Last year’s incident was already enough to let you know that the sisterhood that your parents have been forcing you into was beyond saving. 

The voices coming from the front door continue for a moment longer. This time, you get to hear your mother’s voice joining in the conversation and Alia’s soft voice answering her questions. You make no effort to listen to what they are saying and tune out their voices, until your mother’s voice calls out to you. 

“______, your sister is here. Come and say hi.” 

Your mother’s words make you stop. Slowly, you turn down the heat on the stove and turn to make your way towards the front door to join the family reunion. 

“It’s stepsister,” you mutter under your breath as you drag your feet, taking your sweet time while you try to compose yourself before having to face the unwanted guests. 

As you turn around the corner, merely moments before the front door finally comes into view, you get to hear another voice speaking. The voice that you couldn’t clearly hear from the kitchen while you were tuning their conversation out. 

“I’m sorry for intruding. But thank you for having me here.” 

That voice. 

You immediately come to a halt. An uneasy feeling runs through your body when you realise that you recognise this voice and have grown to know it quite well. 

There is no mistaking it. You may not have gotten his full name on the night you met, and his face has somewhat become a faint mirage in your dreams at night whenever you are taken back to the night of your hookup.

But you cannot say the same about his voice. 

That deep and gentle voice will always be engraved in your memory. Even now, the only thing you would need to do is close your eyes and listen, and allow the voice to take you back to that specific night once more, where he used this voice to say sinful words that you could feel caressing your fragile heart while he was bringing you to the peak of pleasure.

And now you are hearing that voice here, at your home, idly chatting with your mother by the front door. 

“_______, are you coming?” your mother calls again, and you know that there is no avoiding it. You have to face reality, even if that means you must come face to face with the man who is responsible for placing you in this situation.

Tamping down the rush of nerves going through your body, you slowly march ahead. Bracing yourself as you turn around the corner and enter the living room where everyone is currently gathering in.

Your eyes fall on your stepsister first. 

Alia has always looked so vibrant and beautiful, drawing all kinds of attention from everyone in the room whenever she is present. Yet when you look at her now, there seems to be a new kind of light emerging from her. Even her smile seems brighter as she chats along with your stepfather.  

And you soon realise the reason why she is shining brightly today as you turn your gaze to look at the person standing beside her. To finally see him. 

He looks just like how you remember him. Tall and lean, with his arms and chest filling up his sweater. He has his hair falling over a part of his face, just enough of a mess that seems as if he has been running his fingers through the wavy strands. As he converses with your mother, he shows his boxy grin that seems familiar to your eyes. 

Too familiar. 

Because it looks just the same as the wide grin that was teasing and flirting with you on one eventful night at the transit hotel weeks ago. 

No. That can’t be.

The baby’s daddy is here. The man who you were planning to look for once you return to the city. 

He is here, today, appearing at the front door of your parents’ home together with your stepsister. His long fingers that had once entangled between the strands of your hair are now entwined with your stepsister’s dainty fingers. And there is no mistaking the matching couple rings that are glowing under the sunlight coming from their entwined hands. 

Before you get the chance to process what is happening, you hear him introducing himself to your stepfather, “It’s good to see you, Sir. My name is Taehyung.” 

No. 

You stifle a gasp. It feels like you have been sucker-punched right in the chest that you can barely breathe. 

Taehyung, you wonder. Tae? 

All of a sudden, you feel as if the ground beneath your feet is tilting over, slowly taking you down with it. And since you seem to have lost the ability to move your feet, the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling is to clench your hands tightly by your side. Tight enough to feel pain as your nails are sinking into your palms, convincing you that this is not a dream. 

Yet you are still in denial as you watch the interaction happening right before your eyes. Because there is no way this is happening. There is no possible way that it is truly him. 

Please. Please don’t let it be him. 

It must have been your mind playing tricks on you. Because there is no way that he is here. Not as your stepsister’s new boyfriend. 

This must be a mistake. Yes, you are probably confused and all the thoughts of finding your baby daddy are messing up with your head, forcing you to believe that your stepsister’s new boyfriend is your mysterious baby daddy. The fact that they have the same name must have been pure coincidence. 

For once in your life, you don’t want to be right. You have to be wrong. 

Please tell me that it’s not him. 

Just then, as if life was listening to your prayers, as if life has yet to have enough of its games to play around with your heart, the man turns his gaze away from your parents. And those pretty eyes land on you. 

As if there is a switch turned, the brightness in his gaze fades. His beautiful eyes are filled with recognition. It is so subtle that you are quite sure that nobody else around you notices it, but it is enough to let you know that your memories have been right all along. 

Because those are the same eyes that you saw looking back at you with pure lust and sin while he was bringing you wanton pleasure, when you made love as if both of you had been under a spell, right on the very night that may have changed your fate forever. 

Fuck. 

Me.

At one glance, this moment would seem like any other pre-holiday family dinner. It may seem picture perfect, even—if you had been a stranger looking in. 

There are still a couple of days left until Christmas Day, yet the festive mood has already filled the room. From the living room, all the way to the dining room, Christmas decorations are already plastered across the walls and hung from the ceiling. On the dining table, the delectable meal that your mother worked hard to prepare—with your poor assistance—had been perfectly laid out. 

With Alia’s arrival today, the immediate family is now complete. Ever the charming daughter, Alia takes up the attention of everyone around her as she shares her story—about how she has been travelling between different states and some neighbouring countries, changing jobs, finding new hobbies, and even planning to adopt a new pet. 

Sitting at the head of the table, your stepfather is soaking it all in, enjoying the time he has with his daughter whom he rarely gets to see throughout the year. Your mother sits on his right, getting the front seat of their merry reunion. She would sometimes chime in, never failing to try to get you into joining their idle chat even when you are not feeling up to it. 

Other times, you would have been able to easily play along. From making cordial comments and joining with all the light jokes shared by your family, or feigning interest in anything that Alia might be sharing at the table—even when she rarely would share the same courtesy when you did the same. 

Tonight, however, it feels like a struggle for you to focus on the conversation shared at the table, let alone pretend to be interested. Not when you are busy trying your best to calm your nerves. 

You can't even embrace the same warm atmosphere that everyone seems to be sharing. 

For you, the air around feels stifling and tense. It has been this way ever since you sat down right next to your mother for dinner. Because due to the seating arrangement, the special guest of the night is now sitting right across from you at the table. 

Taehyung. 

The last person that you had ever expected to see. Not here. Certainly not at your home or sharing the same space with your parents. 

It seems surreal to meet him here like this. Even more so when he was introduced to your family as Alia’s new boyfriend.

Judging from the way he reacted when he first saw you, you can tell that he never expected something like this could ever happen. You know that he has questions, perhaps just as much as you do, yet the situation that you found yourself in right now isn’t allowing you to even show any sign that the two of you know each other or to have met before today. 

But there is something in the way he is looking at you that doesn’t sit right with you. Aside from the lingering shock you see each time your eyes accidentally meet each other, there is a look that shows a semblance of guilt, despair, and at the same time, filled with wonder. 

Was it because he never expected to see you again after that night, much less to find out that you are somehow related to the woman that he is dating? Or was there something else going through his mind? 

“This is Alia’s sister, ______,” was what your mother said when she first introduced you to him. At that point, you and Taehyung were stunned to silence, and for a brief moment, neither of you reacted. 

Thinking about it now, you can’t even remember how you managed to join your family in the living room. The moment you saw Taehyung standing there, your legs nearly gave out. It was a wonder how you managed to stop yourself from falling or tripping as you walked over to them in a state of distraught. 

“Hi, it’s good to see you,” was all that you managed to croak out of once you snapped out of it. You didn’t even give him a chance to respond when you suddenly turned your attention to your stepsister, forcing a smile on your face when you greeted her, “Hey, Alia. It’s good to see you. You seem well.” 

You can’t even remember the expression that Alia gave you when she responded to you, “Uh yeah, thanks. You too.” 

“Right. Well, I’ll let you guys settle in. I left the stove on, so—” 

That was the last thing you said before you turned away and quickly left the room, practically running away from him to hide back in the kitchen. The last thing you heard as you walked away was your mother’s voice saying something about you being her assistant of the day in the kitchen while you were feeling unwell, as if excusing you for your unmannerly attitude. 

By the time you got back in the kitchen, your hands were shaking, your heartbeat was racing so fast you could barely breathe. It took a long time for the shock to wane, and you had spent the rest of the day staying away from both of them, avoiding him entirely until you were finally called to join dinner. 

And you are still avoiding him even now, keeping your head down as much as you can and resisting the urge to look his way. As if it isn’t hard enough for you to have him sitting right in front of you, you can feel the heat of his gaze constantly following you whenever you are not looking.

He doesn’t make it so obvious, and it doesn’t seem like anyone else has noticed it yet. Perhaps you are just too hyperaware of his presence that you caught on to it so easily.

You sneak a glance at your stepsister, wondering if Alia has taken notice of her boyfriend’s wandering gaze or where he has been directing his eyes. It takes you watching the conversation between her and your parents more closely to see it. 

Because it turns out that she also has her own gaze wandering to questionable places at the same time that she isn’t paying much attention to her boyfriend. 

Each time Alia turns to regard your mother or speak to her, her gaze flickers away briefly, ever so subtly landing on the seat to your right. At the seat that Hansol would usually occupy whenever he joined you during these holiday visits. 

It is easy to catch it when you are seeing it from your angle. And it is easy to guess what is going through her head when she keeps doing it with a curious look written all over her face. An unspoken question seems to linger, while the incident from last year keeps flashing through your head when you picture Hansol being present beside you. 

Even if nobody notices her intention, you doubt that anyone would question her about it, seeing that the seat that was supposed to be left empty has been taken by someone else. 

While you are busy trying to make sense out of everything, your grandmother makes a disapproval noise with her tongue, grabbing your attention. “Are you still feeling under the weather? You’ve been drinking that boring thing the whole day,” she says, referring to the glass of iced tea that you have just put down after taking a drink from it to cool down. 

You turn to look at your dear grandmother, Honey, and smile at her. She probably hasn’t realised what a saving grace she has been for taking the unoccupied seat to your right the minute she came in for dinner. 

And she is now helping you again by drawing your attention away from the source of your dismay. Immediately, you feel better the moment you are met with Honey’s smile. 

“I’m feeling much better, actually. I’m just being careful not to drink anything that might get me sick,” you answer carefully, hoping to sound reasonable enough without making anyone question your ‘sickness’ any further. 

The more you lie to your family about it, the more guilty you feel. You don’t have much choice at the moment but to hide it just a bit longer. 

At first, you couldn’t share the news with your parents simply because you were still clueless about how you were going to find the father of the baby with only limited information you had of him. But then things only got even more complicated for you to ever come clean when he walked through the front door of your parents’ home. 

What are the odds that the man you hooked up with turns out to be the man your stepsister is currently dating? And here you are now, stuck in the same room with them while hiding a secret which may change the course of everyone’s entire life.

Yeah, miracles don’t exist. Not for me, at least.

Honey taps at your hand on the table as you grow silent, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head. “You know what you need?” she asks, whispering in a conspiring tone that she barely keeps down so that everyone at the table can still hear her voice. 

And she does it while looking at you with her wide, expecting eyes, with the barely concealed mischief written all over her face. It makes you smile, knowing where this is going. So you simply play along. 

"No, Honey. What would that be?” 

Her mischievous smile widens as she leans closer. “A hint of rum. With a few drops into that boring tea of yours, you’ll feel better in no time,” she says, lifting her hand and showing you a pinching gesture with her thumb and forefinger nearly touching each other, “Just a pinch. Or better yet, just trade your whole glass—” 

The sound of your Mom’s frustrated sigh cuts her off. “Mom, I already told you, giving her alcohol isn’t going to make her feel better. I’ve already given her some herbal tea, that should be enough until she can get a proper rest.”

“Oh, posh,” Honey says, waving her hand at your mother. “Ignore your Mom,” Honey says just as you are about to respond. “I’m telling you. Alcohol is best to cure your heartbreak,” she adds, and you certainly have no arguments against that. Alcohol might be able to help you forget. 

But, alas…

But, wait a minute. You stop and look closely at Honey. What is she talking about? 

“What do you mean?” you question her while tilting your head, wondering deep down if she had noticed something. Surely, she wouldn’t be able to tell the high tension rolling between you and Taehyung through dinner. 

Nobody else could. But you also know that if there is anyone in your family who might be able to catch on with the tension rolling between the two of you, it would be Honey. 

Once again, Honey reaches out and taps her dainty fingers on the back of your hand. “Isn’t that why you’re feeling down, peaches? I know you’re still thinking about that good for nothing—” 

Honey stops herself and bites down her smile before you can figure out what she is about to say. But you have heard enough to understand who she is referring to. 

Relief washes over you when you realise that she was talking about your ex, Hansol. She must have thought that you have been stressing over the breakup and you have been feeling unwell because of it.

Honey leans in, this time lowering her voice just enough only for you to hear. “You must’ve taken it from me. I also get a stomach bug when I’m stressed out. Just like last summer when I lost a go-stop game against the ladies from the block,” she says, before she continues blabbering about how she had made bets during the game and went all-in only to lose everything. 

“You might think that they’re nothing but small pennies used for gambling coins, but I spent a whole week collecting them. How am I supposed to replace all of them before the next game?” she continues to complain, while you laugh at her. 

Her story takes away the tension on your shoulders for a brief moment before she adds, “And then you had to come here and watch these two being all lovey-dovey with each other.” 

As Honey mentions the pair sitting across the table, waving her hand at them to make a point, your eyes are drawn towards them once more. And your gaze lands right on Alia’s hand which is now resting on top of Taehyung’s. 

Seeing this makes you feel tight in the chest. Bitterness fills your mouth which you can barely hide with a tight smile. Honey may not have been entirely correct with her assumptions, yet her comment still hits the mark somehow. 

Not about Hansol, obviously, as he is the one to occupy your mind the least. Yet she wasn’t too far off when she talked about the new pair of lovers before you. Seeing them does make you uncomfortable, miserable even, but for entirely different reasons. 

Looking away from their joined hands, your gaze meets Alia’s. She is wearing an unreadable expression on her face as she listens in to Honey’s words. And the strange look that she is giving you now is making you feel uneasy.

Just as you start wondering if Alia has noticed something, she instead asks you, “You guys broke up?” 

She throws a quick glance at Honey’s seat with a frown. For others, she might seem concerned, yet there is a look in her eyes which tells you that there is something more. “I was wondering why I haven’t seen him around. He was with us last holiday.” 

Her comment rubs you in the wrong way. You have no idea why she would care when your relationship has nothing to do with her. But you try to not let it bother you. “Yes, it’s been months now since we broke up. I only told Mom and Dad yesterday when I first got home.” 

“I see,” she says. Her voice comes out so softly that it almost comes out as a murmur. She pulls her hand back and places it on her lap. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry,” she adds while offering a small smile. And for some reason, she also seems guilty. 

Does she think it has something to do with what happened last year? 

Her words remind you of something that she said to you last year, back on the morning you confronted her after her drunken blunder which happened the night before. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s just drunk talking.” 

That incident shouldn’t be bothering you today. Yet it still makes you feel bitter when you think about it. The feeling only grows worse when you glance at Taehyung who is showing a sudden interest in this whole thing. 

“It’s fine. Sometimes things just don’t work out,” you simply repeat the same thing you said to your mother earlier while biting back the real question that is hanging right at the tip of your tongue. 

But what’s in it to you? 

No matter how curious you are to know what kind of scheme that is going through her pretty little head, you know it’s not worth all the drama that it might cause. You cannot even possibly imagine the drama that would unfold once this whole baby thing comes out.

God, just thinking about it is already making your stomach churn. Your lower abdomen suddenly feels hard and heavy. As if you have a full-size lead inside instead of a small, growing blob that is about to form into an actual living baby within a few weeks from now. 

Thinking about the baby, your eyes find the man who is behind all of this. He has grown oddly quiet while you were conversing with your stepsister and is now staring at his food with a frown on his face.

“So tell me,” you ask calmly while clenching your hands, doing your best to hide the trembles, “How did you two meet?”

This question immediately draws Taehyung’s attention. His eyes snap up, but the moment he looks at you, his face seems to grow pale and he becomes awfully nervous.

“We, uh—we used to work at the same company before Alia left to venture into other things,” he says, almost stuttering. He also keeps stealing glances at Alia, as if begging her to help him out. 

Huh, strange.

What is it about answering your simple question which makes him so nervous? 

Or perhaps…

Have they been seeing each other when the two of you hooked up? 

Fuck. 

The moment this thought crosses your mind, you suddenly feel sick. Your stomach grows heavier with anxiety. Meanwhile, Alia’s smile seems to beam brighter. 

“We didn’t work in the same division back then, but we would frequently meet during breaks and company hours. Had it been, what, a year after we last met?” Alia turns to Taehyung, who stiffly nods his head. She grabs his hand once again and looks at him lovingly as she continues, “We met again last summer by chance while I was travelling and started talking since then.” 

Last summer? But that was before—

Your head starts spinning. You grab your glass and take a couple of small sips of your tea to regain composure, yet the drink suddenly tastes bitter on your tongue. 

Honey’s voice barely registers in your brain when she responds with a hum. “Travelling in the summer? That sounds like a charming way to meet a new lover,” she says, lifting her mug to her lips as she continues marvelling at your stepsister’s story. “You must have felt some sparks when you two met. I bet you’re still feeling it now, aren’t you?”

You have no idea what she has inside that ceramic mug, as she had been nursing the same drink since even before dinner started. You can bet money that she had more than a pinch of rum dropped inside that drink of hers, seeing how talkative she is becoming. 

Oh, how you wish you could have a taste of it. Just a sip would have been good enough. Maybe it can also help to stop your hands from trembling. 

“And the ring?” Honey asks again with a teasing tone as she points at their entwined hands. “I noticed that you two are wearing matching rings. You can’t possibly be engaged already, can you?” 

Almost choking on your drink, you slowly set your glass back down and pull your hands onto your lap, hiding them from prying eyes just in time as they begin to shake.

“But it wasn’t that different back in the day,” Honey continues, “I remember that Russ—that’s my dear late husband,” she explains to Taehyung, “he bought me a cheap ring at the beginning of our relationship to show me and my parents that he was serious about courting me.” 

On any other times that Honey would speak about your late grandfather, you would always enjoy listening to every word, admiring how she would always share her story with pure love in her voice and wonder glowing in her eyes. 

But not this time. 

Ever since she pointed out the ring and started talking about your grandfather’s old promises, you start having trouble breathing. The more she speaks, the worse it gets, and now there is a ringing sound echoing in your ear that seems to be coming from different directions. 

“I still keep the ring with me, side by side with the wedding ring that doesn’t fit anymore on these wrinkly fingers of mine,” Honey keeps gushing. She raises her hands and starts wiggling her fingers to show them off, while your whole body grows tense. 

Alia shares a nervous laugh with Taehyung and waves her hand at Honey. “Oh, no…it’s actually a part of a joke that we—” 

You try to tune out the voices, the words that are being said, while clasping your hands tighter together on your lap, but the shaking doesn’t stop. Alia’s voice fades in and out beyond the loud ringing in your head as she continues to tell her story about how they started dating and the ring came to be. With everything that is going on, added with your awareness over Taehyung’s intense gaze that doesn’t seem to waver, it becomes too overwhelming that you feel as if you are slowly being swallowed into the ground beneath you. 

With a sharp gasp, you slowly push yourself out of your seat. “Excuse me, I have to—” your voice cracks as you speak. As you stand, you notice that everyone has their eyes on you, all curious to know what is happening with you. 

“_______?” you hear your mother calling you.

You can feel the blood draining from your face under all the unwanted attention, making you wish that you could just fade away right at that moment. But then your hand find its way to your stomach, and it almost feels like there is a touch of warmth forming under your palm. It helps you force a smile and gather yourself just enough to say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to step out early. I hope that’s alright. You guys enjoy the rest of dinner.” 

You don’t wait for anyone’s response as you turn away, finding your escape merely moments before you get into a full-blown meltdown right in front of everyone. 

Your legs are wobbly as you walk down the hall, yet you still manage to slip into the guest bathroom downstairs. With trembling hands, you lock the door behind you, shutting yourself from the world outside. 

And that is when you fall apart, turning into a heaving mess as everything that you have been bottling up inside comes flooding out of you. 

“Breathe,” you command yourself while you fight back against your nausea. Holding onto the bathroom counter, you keep yourself and try your best to focus on controlling your breath. 

Take a slow, deep breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 

Little by little, all the tension, the trembling, and the tightness in your chest begin to wane. But once everything is gone, once you begin to find calmness, your emotions seize control of you.

The next thing you know, an unstoppable flow of tears comes running down your face and you start sobbing, crying in defeat. 

“Shit. Fuck. What a mess,” you curse between each sob, feeling absolutely helpless and alone. You close your eyes, hoping that you can clear your head by doing so. Yet your mind keeps going to dark places. Constantly wondering and questioning about all of this. 

About him. 

“Did he ever mention anything that was related to his personal life that night?” you cannot help but wonder out loud. 

Only silence answers. Because you hold little to no recollection of the details from the conversation you shared with him that night. Whenever you try to remember, it always feels like there was a part of your memory that had gone missing. 

You haven’t had the slightest clue of the things you shared with him at the bar once the drinks started coming more frequently. Which is a wonder, because you are completely sure that neither of you had gotten drunk enough to experience a blackout, much less lose a memory.

At least for you, the alcohol was just enough to burn through your nerves and help build your confidence to take the lead and openly show the attraction you had for him. Even if he did end up taking back control the moment the two of you finally gave in to temptation. 

Your head starts pounding, aching the more you try to remember the missing details. Meanwhile, all the questions won’t stop coming, making it harder for you to regain a peaceful mind.

Did he ever mention having a girlfriend, or at least give any hint that he was taken? 

Was he wearing that ring on his finger when he was touching your skin under the dim light of his bedroom suite? 

You shake your head and close your eyes again when you still remember nothing. The only thing that remains in your memory is the look you saw in his gaze that night. The pitiful look that seemed to mirror yours, making you believe that he was looking for the same thing you did that night. 

An escape. A way to forget even if for a moment. 

But what if that was all just another lie? 

Your stomach churns. A sharp pain comes shooting through your body. It starts from your lower abdomen, causing you to almost double over. 

Fuck. Now what? 

Your hand instantly comes down to your stomach, pressing and rubbing gently against it until the uncomfortable ache ebbs under your touch. 

Right, I’m supposed to avoid any form of stress, you remind yourself as you recall what your doctor told you the last time you went to see her. Something about getting your blood tension rising when you are stressed, and that it wouldn’t be good for both you and the baby in the long run. Closing your eyes, you try to think of happy thoughts, all while keeping your palm pressed on your stomach.

To your surprise, rubbing your palm against the barely-there baby bump on your belly isn’t just helping you to soothe the pain away, but also to calm yourself down. 

With a sigh, you gently wipe your tears and look down. “I’m sorry for swearing so much, baby. I promise to stop doing it once you’ve grown big enough to start hearing things so you won’t learn any of it too soon. But fuck, this is too much.” 

It feels odd to speak like this to the living being growing inside you that is barely more than a piece of flesh. Yet speaking to your growing baby seems to help ease your anxiety a little. 

Better yet, it helps make you feel less alone. 

“Let’s not think any bad thoughts. Let’s not assume that your Dad is an asshole, okay? Not until we get to hear the full story,” you whisper to the tiny human growing inside you. The more you speak to it, the more it seems to be helping you to find some ease of mind. 

But even if it turns out that he was…

“Then I can deal with it later with my head held high,” you murmur to yourself in a soft, yet reassuring tone of voice. And you repeat it again, and again, almost as if you are chanting a spell which would be able to give you a boost of confidence. 

It may not immediately change the way you look at things, yet you can feel it slowly rising within you. It feels like a ray of light, the first spark of hope that you get to feel amid all the uncertainty which surrounds you.

Soon enough, the strong urge to cry no longer overcomes you. Even your hands have stopped shaking. All that you have left is exhaustion. It rolls through your body with a vengeance, and there is nothing that you want more right now other than to curl up like a ball on your bed and sleep it off. 

You raise your head to look at yourself in the mirror, and instantly a bitter laugh escapes you at what you are seeing.

Because you look like a complete mess. Your life is slowly turning into shambles, and it seems to be mocking you through your own reflection that is now staring back at you. 

“Just exactly what I need,” you whisper with a sigh.

I need to be stronger, if only for the sake of this little one in me, you tell yourself as you splash cold water at your face to wash away all the mess—the drying tears, your swollen eyes, and the skin on your face which has yet to regain its normal colours. 

It feels therapeutic to be washing everything off, leaving nothing more but your swollen eyes which you can explain as a part of your sickness. You may not be strong enough to take on the world, but at least now, you are prepared to face the reality that is waiting for you right outside of this door. 

No matter how fucking messy it is. 

Having this new revelation should be giving you a newfound credence that could push you forward. And yet there is none of that here. The only thing you are feeling now is the new bout of anxiety rolling up through your body, starting from your stomach as it churns painfully.

“Yeah, now I feel sick,” you groan as you rush to the toilet bowl, seconds away before you start dumping the small amount of food you had during dinner into waste. 

It takes a bit longer than expected before you finally find the courage to step out of the bathroom. 

Soft murmurs filter into the bathroom the moment you open the door. You can tell that the voices are coming from the living room, which means that the family has gathered there after dinner. It allows you to breathe a sigh of relief. At least this way you wouldn’t have to hide or make excuses if you have to bump into someone on your way to your bedroom.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you are relieved that nobody is around. Everyone should be in the living room, so you make haste, hoping to be able to escape before anyone notices. 

But as you turn to the next hallway, someone is standing in your way. The light is dim, yet you can easily recognise him before you get any closer. Standing with his back leaning against the wall, he has his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes looking absently into the distance. 

As though he has been waiting for you. 

Taehyung turns when he notices you coming. Before you can start to wonder what he is doing here, a smile grows on his face.

“Hey, is everything okay? Everyone was worried,” he asks you, sounding genuinely concerned. 

The calm tone of his voice might be a bit deceiving if only you are not looking into his eyes. His gaze keeps wavering as he speaks, as if he is unable to look at you for too long. The same guilt you saw earlier is still present in his eyes. And you hate seeing it there. 

It only tells you that he has a secret that he is keeping from you. You have no idea how to feel about it. But if it has to do with his relationship with Alia, then—

“I’m fine, it’s just—” 

Your cheeks grow warm the moment you speak, feeling embarrassed at how dry your voice sounds. “It’s nothing. You heard my Mom, I’ll be better in no time.” 

You have so many things to say to him. So many questions that you would like to give him. But you are too tired to do anything. Much less to talk. As much as you can convince yourself that you are ready to face anything, now is not the right time to do it. 

So you keep your mouth shut and try to walk past him instead. Only that he isn’t letting you go that easily. 

“You know, it really is nice to see you again, Red.” 

His voice sounds so subdued that you almost miss it. You come to a halt. Your heartbeat starts picking up again. If you ever needed confirmation that the sinful night you shared with him truly happened, and that he remembered any part of it, then this is it. 

His comment which instantly brings you back to that fateful night. The nickname that he used to call you then.

You close your eyes, refusing to remember the way he managed to draw out a myriad of sensations with his voice alone. You refuse to be brought back there again. Not now, when your mind isn’t clear enough to be dealing with this. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself just enough to face him.

Only to be met with his amused smile as he looks at you. 

“I was surprised to see you. I never would have thought that you could somehow be related to Alia.” He lets out a chuckle. It sounds empty and a bit bitter, mirroring exactly how you are feeling right now. 

Your chest feels tight, hating the way he is saying her name. Nor do you enjoy seeing the way his gaze changes when he does it. Annoyance fills your chest that you can barely speak, while he remains in his blissful ignorance as he continues talking, 

“Funny how life works, doesn’t it? I kept thinking about you after we met and wondered if we would ever see each other again. I regretted that I didn’t ask for your number before we parted ways. I didn’t even get to ask for your real name.” 

The tightness in your chest grows tenfold. 

You never admitted it before—not to yourself, and not even to Skye, when you first talked about him—yet there was some point between that night and the day you found out about the pregnancy that you spent your nights wondering if you would ever see him again. 

If there had been one thing that you regretted about that night, it would be the decision you made to leave the next morning without asking for his real name or leaving any means of contact. 

A night to escape from reality. 

That was all it meant for you at the time. So when the morning came, it was time for you to return to reality. Your reality. Your real life. And you were too busy preparing yourself to face all the hurt, the bad memories, and the stressful life that had nothing to do with the desirable woman that he brought into his bed the night before to even consider exchanging contacts with him. 

It didn’t matter if you were still riding the high of that night’s self-gratification and wanton pleasure through the rest of your trip. The moment everything ended, you simply moved on from it. Putting everything about that night to the back of your mind as you returned to your normal life and quickly fell back into your normal routine. 

Until weeks later, when life decided to fuck you over and you ended up with a baby growing inside you, and you had no way to find or contact him to inform him about it. 

“I guess it can’t be helped, given the circumstances.” Your conviction quickly melts into dread once you are reminded of the current circumstances. “It’s kinda too late now to talk about it and regret what didn’t happen, don’t you think? Seeing that you’re now dating my stepsister.” 

Taehyung winces. For a brief moment, you almost believe you can see a glimpse of hurt flickering through his gaze. And for some reason, it only pisses you off. 

So he doesn’t like being reminded of the fact that he is here for someone else? 

“Look, about Alia. I was hoping that we could talk. Maybe when all of this is done, or maybe after the holidays we can—” 

He continues talking, but you aren’t hearing anything. The questions that flooded your brain earlier come flashing back. The ringing that pained you returns. Everything lasts for a few more seconds before your mind clears out, and only one question remains. 

“Were the two of you already dating when we slept together?” 

He falls silent, taken aback. 

“No!” he immediately says, almost shouting. But he quickly reins himself before his voice would reach where everyone is and draw their attention. “Fuck, no. Is that why you’ve been sulking all through dinner?” he asks you with a hiss. He seems offended and hurt at the same time. “I’m not that kind of guy. Trust me.” 

“Sulking?” you let out an incredulous laugh. Is that how he saw it? When you were coming close to breaking apart right in front of everyone because of him? 

“How am I supposed to trust you when I barely know you? How am I supposed to know that you’re telling the truth?” you snap back at him with a hiss. “Just because we fucked it doesn’t mean that I’d magically know everything about you.” 

Again, he winces at your question. As if your words come to him like a slap on his face. He takes a deep breath and speaks more calmly in response, “Look, we should talk. Soon. I can explain everything. But not now, okay?” 

As much as you hate to admit it, or to agree with him, you decide that he is right. There are a lot of things that you need to discuss with him, and now is not the right time to do it. Not when your emotions are all over the place and when he has his girlfriend keeping him in close sight most of the time. 

“I agree. We do need to talk,” you finally agree, even though you know that both of you have different things in mind. 

You have no idea what he intends to discuss with you. The only thing that matters to you is to talk about the baby that you conceived together. And hopefully, decide what will happen next. 

“I should go,” you sigh, feeling exhausted and drained. “I need to lie down. This is too much for me to process.” 

You try to walk around him so you can continue on your way. Your head is pounding, and you have the dire need to rest in your comfortable bed, where you would be able to feel safe and hide away from all of this. 

“Wait,” Taehyung stops you before you can go too far. 

“What?” you ask him, feeling exasperated—both from the stress and from the way your body still tingles each time you hear his voice. You really need to get away from him. 

“Nothing, it’s just…” he starts, suddenly looking nervous with what he is about to say. The sound of laughter echoes from the living room, making him glance over his shoulder briefly before speaking to you with a lowered voice, “Can you do me a favour?” 

You frown at him. “What is it?” 

He looks wary, and it makes you feel uneasy in the stomach as you wait for him to speak. 

But what he says next makes you feel even worse. “Please don’t tell Alia that we’ve met before, more importantly that we hooked up that night.” 

You say nothing at first. Even if you are well aware of the situation and where Alia’s position in all of this, it still doesn’t stop the sharp pain you feel in your chest as he mentions her name, or to express his request. 

Taehyung steps closer when you remain quiet. His voice comes as a desperate whisper when he pleads with you, “Please? Can you do this for me?” 

You grit your teeth. “Fine, I won’t,” you finally say to him. But you refuse to give in that easily.

Taking a step closer to him, you point at him and demand him, “But you need to tell her.” 

He clenches his jaw as he listens to your demands, but you ignore it and continue to talk. “She needs to know—” your voice nearly wavers, because you know what would happen once everything is revealed. 

Telling your stepsister that you had slept with her boyfriend would not only be hard, but it would be ugly. 

But it would be better than keeping it a secret for much longer. Because secrets don’t always remain hidden, no matter how hard you try to keep them in the shadows. And things would even get messier once the baby comes while she is still being kept in the dark. 

It’s better to bite the bullet as soon as possible, rather than waiting and living your life in uncertainty until the day comes. 

“If you don’t, and we keep this a secret much longer, things might get messier if she somehow finds out on her own. The last thing I’d ever want is to get into any drama. Not with her,” you try to convince Taehyung, despite him looking like he would rather bolt and have nothing to do with any of this. 

After all the drama that happened last year, the last thing you need is to get involved in another. 

“I’ll tell her myself if necessary.” There is a bite in your voice when you are telling him all of this. To his credit, Taehyung—despite looking shell-shocked and cornered—seems to respect and understand your request. 

He lowers his head and nods. “Give me time. I’ll—” 

You are surprised to see him looking defeated. It makes you wonder if there is something more about their relationship that you need to know before going further. 

As Taehyung raises his head again, he seems more resolved. He looks straight into your eyes as he promises, “I’ll tell her myself once I get the chance to. I promise. But we’re going to have that talk first, and soon.” 

“It’s a promise.” You bite back the ache that suddenly pierces through your heart, seeing how he is so adamant about protecting his relationship with your stepsister. Trying not to look too deep into it and get yourself hurt further, you avoid looking into his gaze and start walking away from him. 

“Goodnight then—” you whisper to him as you turn away from him, biting back the sound of your defeat when you call his name, “Tae.” 

The moment you are within the safety of your bedroom, your knees buckle. Thankfully, you still manage to close the door and lock it behind you, once again shutting yourself from everyone to give you some moment of peace.

Although it doesn’t stop him from entering your mind in the silence that follows. 

As you lie down in your bed, curled up in a fetal position with your arms wrapped around yourself, your mind wanders back to the conversation you just had with Taehyung in the hallway. 

You can’t help it. His words keep coming back to you, and you keep finding yourself dissecting everything he said. You close your eyes, and keep telling yourself to stop. The situation that you are dealing with right now already seems absurd enough for you to waste your energy trying to understand him. 

You begin to wonder if things would have been better if you hadn’t come across each other again. Things would probably turn out differently. You may have to keep the baby’s existence a secret from him, and the truth about the father a secret from your family. 

You may have to deal with everything yourself. 

The possibility seems petrifying, but it still sounds a lot better than having to go against your stepsister. Better than causing your frail relationship to become even worse. This time, you know that this would be big enough to ruin any chance for you and your stepsister to have any kind of relationship at all. 

He was right. It’s funny how life works. If only it doesn’t have to be this hard to laugh it off. 

Stop it. 

Keeping your eyes closed, you let out a deep sigh and force yourself to think about something else. Anything. As long as you are not thinking about him. His face, his voice, the scent of his cologne, everything that belongs to him. 

Your head starts swimming. No, everything about him now belongs to someone else. 

Once again, you force yourself to start thinking of less stressful things. Like Skye’s text message from this afternoon suggesting that you could run away with her to a secluded place somewhere in Europe so that the two of you could raise the baby together. Or the little stories that Honey shared about the cute new gardener now working at her apartment complex—the complex specifically built for elders like herself—that she wanted to introduce to you the next time you come by to visit.

You regret forgetting to pick up the smoothie that your mother made for you while you were throwing up in the bathroom, all due to Taehyung’s distraction. You wonder if having the smoothie would be able to help you feel better. Picturing the drink being left attended in the kitchen, you can picture your grandmother—the sweet little mischievous angel that she is—sneaking in a few drops of rum into the smoothie when your mother isn’t looking. 

This thought makes you smile. It replaces every ugly thoughts that keep circling inside your mind and calms you down. 

Your heartbeat is no longer beating like crazy. The more you fill your head with wonderful thoughts, the sooner the uneasy feeling in your stomach begins to wane. 

And soon enough, you start drifting away to a restless sleep. 

But just like how he invaded your home with his sudden appearance, Taehyung invades your sleep once your mind is left unguarded. 

Speaking to him, albeit briefly, brings you back to that night. The moment you close your eyes, you start seeing everything from back then that you couldn’t remember in your waking hours. Even the smallest details that your conscious mind has forgotten. Everything comes crashing down on you as you toss and turn in your bed, unable to give in completely to a peaceful slumber as memories continue to flood your dreams. 

Six weeks ago…

You opened your eyes and squinted. 

The overhead lamp above your head was bright, and it was hurting your eyes. You could barely see a thing through your bleary eyes, until your gaze drifted further, looking into the dimly lit bedroom far across the foyer. 

The room looked more spacious than yours, albeit a bit messy. The massive bed looked comfortable, and there were two lounge seats set up near the windows that looked more luxurious than the ones you had in your room. 

“Your bedroom seems a lot more cozy than mine.” 

The words came out of your lips with a moan. The sound seemed foreign. Barely recognisable through your hazy mind. But there was a familiar sensation slowly rising in your body that hadn’t at all come from the alcoholic drinks you were having tonight. 

“Hmmm…You think so?”

A deep, sultry voice spoke as a pair of hot lips made their way down the side of your neck, tracing your skin with delicate kisses that made it even harder for you to think straight. 

Shivers ran down your body. Heat rolled through your chest. And it almost seemed to you that your skin was becoming even more sensitive to the touch when even the most subtle caress of his fingers was able to light up your senses. 

Right after the voice spoke to you, he suddenly switched and started kissing his way up. You blinked, and his face came into view just as he looked down at you. The beautiful face that captivated you when you first met him at the bar was presented right before your eyes. 

So close. So tempting. And his eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your breath. He smiled and leaned down, capturing your lips with a kiss. 

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he murmured against your lips, drawing another moan out of you which snapped you from your daze. 

You sighed as you gave in to the chaste kiss he was giving you. “It’s kind of hard to look around and see anything when you have me pinned to the door.” 

He let out a soft chuckle and once again pressed his lips on yours. As if he was both pleased and amused that he got to put you in this position. When he pulled back, the look in his eyes softened. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It’s all your fault for teasing me all the way here while I couldn’t allow myself to touch you with so many eyes paying attention,” he said without any hint of regret in his voice. 

“Well, forgive me because I wasn’t aware,” you taunted him back, knowing fully well what you had done to tease him until he was on the verge of breaking apart even before you reached his hotel suite. 

As much as you wanted to hold back, you were quite sure that you hadn’t gotten things wrong. You couldn’t have possibly mistaken the chemistry that kept sparking between you. And the way he kept openly staring at your body was enough to make his intention clear, as his eyes seemed more honest than the words he gave you. 

But back at the bar, you had let him be the first one to make the move. 

With his sturdy hands, he was the one who pulled your seat closer. By placing his arm on your backrest, it may have seemed as if he was marking his territory for anyone else at the hotel bar to see. Normally, something like this would’ve put you off. But there was something in the way he did it that made you feel otherwise, allowing you to give in and lean more into his warmth instead of pushing him away. 

That was when you reciprocated his actions with your own. The light and subtle touches of your fingers on his arm drew soft shudders through his body. The accidental brushes that happened when you moved against his body pushed him into wrapping his arm around you, keeping you close before he finally pulled you out of the bar. 

When you leaned close enough to whisper softly against his ear, you could feel goosebumps rising on his skin, his heartbeat escalating under your palm, and he could barely hold himself back from devouring your lips right there at the hotel lobby. Right where everyone could see you falling into pieces under your sinful desire.

By the time you were alone with him in the elevator, the tension between you just kept escalating until he finally snapped. 

He nearly dragged you across the hallway leading to his bedroom suite in his rush to get you alone. The moment he pulled you in through the door, every bit of his composure simply left him. He barely gave you a chance to catch a single glance of the suite, as he immediately pushed your body against the door and kept you there. 

Until this moment. 

His eyes grew dark after listening to your answer. His breath is still ragged after the hot kiss that he gave you once he got you pinned between his hard body and the locked door behind you. 

With his broad chest locking you in place, his hips pressing against your lower body, he left you with nowhere else to go. But this didn’t seem to be enough for him. Looking into his eyes, you could tell that he needed to see you become even more vulnerable. Almost as if he wanted to punish you for putting him on the edge. 

And he did exactly that as he slipped one hand around your neck and pulled your hair, tilting your head back so that he could continue exploring the column of your throat with his sinful lips. Instead of resisting it, you simply gave in. Arching your back to him further as he trailed kisses on your skin, your hands clutching on his jacket to hold on. 

He used his other hand to explore the rest of your body. Starting from your waist, he continued to move further down to your hips. Tracing every curve, every dent along your body with his firm fingers pressing through your thin dress. 

Just as he was about to reach the hem of your dress, he suddenly stopped and pulled back. 

“Tell me again. Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice was quiet when he asked you this. It sounded as though he was caught between convincing himself that this was happening while giving you an out for one last time before getting too deep. 

But you had gone deep. 

And you knew then that the moment you let everything happen, there was no going back from it. Everything about this was new to you; hooking up with a complete stranger while you were in the middle of nowhere, and knowing that once the night was over, both of you were going to move on with your lives. 

It felt thrilling to think about it, and the liquid courage should help you in letting go of your inhibitions. Yet you couldn’t deny the fact that you are feeling slightly nervous about jumping fully into this. 

When you failed to answer him, Tae leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss right below your ear and whispered, “Well? Talk to me. Because there is no going back from this once we begin, and I won’t let you go until you tell me what you want.” 

The way his breath tickled your ear and caressed your skin broke you out of the walls you put up. Every flicker of doubt you felt immediately melted. You brushed against him, allowing him to feel every bit of heat coursing through your body before you answered with a whisper, “Yes. I’ve never been so sure in my whole life.” 

You could feel the way his breath was caught as you pressed your palm on his chest. Pressing against him, you raised yourself up and nipped his chin with your teeth. 

“This is what I want.” 

You weren’t completely sure if you ever got to finish your sentence when all of a sudden, his lips came crashing into yours, pressing firmly as he kissed you, barely concealing his desire for more. 

The kiss unleashed your own desire. You opened your mouth for him in return, allowing him to devour you, to have a taste of your demands as he thoroughly kissed you until you were left breathless in his arms. 

His hand began to move again just then. Tracing down your hips, he pressed the tips of his fingers harder into your flesh. He made it seem as if your dress had melted into your skin with the heat of his touch that you felt completely exposed to him. And he didn’t stop until he finally found the exposed skin of your thigh. 

Your body quivered upon contact, and you could tell that he felt it too. He began stroking your skin, moving at a slow, agonising pace just to put you on the edge. 

And he easily succeeded. Already, you could barely breathe, even when he was still far from touching any part of your body that needed him the most. 

Overcame with need, your body started moving on instinct. As if his touches were controlling you as you lifted your thigh for him. His grip on your thigh tightened, helping you to keep your leg up and open yourself to him while his kiss became sloppy yet gentle as he released his hold on your hair. 

He moved his other hand down, brushing against your covered breast with a brief contact and continued trailing down. You felt him pressing at your hips, before pulling the hem of your dress upward until your lower region was completely exposed. His hand continued its travel as it climbed up your inner thigh. So you opened your legs to give him better access. A move which he appreciated with a deep hum, before you felt his thumb brushing up just an inch away from your throbbing core. 

“Should we move this someplace else? Somewhere that would be more comfortable for us?” he asked you with his lips hovering close to yours. 

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Too lost in the sensation that you were made to feel, you felt as if you were drunk and high, not from the alcohol that was no longer running wildly through your veins, but from his entire presence alone. 

All thoughts faded further as his thumb grazed across the front of your panties, finding your folds through the fabric before he pressed down, enough to give pressure on your covered clit. Sparks flew through your half-lidded eyes as pleasure came rushing through you in waves. You couldn’t stop the moan slipping out of your lips, nor the way your hips rocked into his touch to feel more. 

“So responsive,” he murmured against your neck before he planted a light kiss on your skin. “I would have loved to watch and enjoy every reaction that you would give me, every sound you make, while I have you lie down on my bed and fuck you senseless.” 

Your breath hitched and caught in your chest. Not only because of his words, but also from the way his thumb continued to rub against your covered clit. It felt sinful, yet so delectable the way he kept drawing more and more sparks and shuddering pleasure through your body.

After being deprived of such attention for quite some time, your body became more sensitive to every friction, every treatment he was giving you, and you simply wanted more. 

“Then take me there. Take me to your bed.” 

As if you had flicked a switch in his brain, his expression changed. His gaze darkened as he captured your lips with unrestrained need, yet he was careful when he picked you up, pressing you against his chest when he turned and moved to take you away from the door.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him for balance, while your lips remained locked in a deep kiss. You could feel his long stride as he began carrying you across the room. His kiss and his firm hold on your bottom cheeks were enough to draw your attention away from his clumsy footsteps, but not enough to deny you from sensing the changes happening around you.

The scent of his cologne grew thicker as he went deeper into the room, and you were getting more and more lost in him. Drowned in his heat, his kiss, and the traces that he had left behind all over his bedroom, you felt him everywhere all at once that you felt like you were being put under a spell. 

All so suddenly, you were pulled out of it when he broke away from the kiss. He laid you gently over the cold white sheets of his partly-made bed. Instead of joining you right away, he chose to pull back. His eyes seemed to glint in the dimly lit room as he took this moment to take you in. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured softly, drawing heat back to your face. 

He kept his eyes on you as he shrugged off his jacket and began peeling his shirt from his chest. Desire pulsed through your body as you watched every move he was making without ever drawing his attention away from you. 

The more you watched him, the stronger the pull that you felt towards him. Once the need to touch him took over, you reached up and tugged on his pants, hoping that you could quickly shred them off of his body. 

You barely grazed against his covered hard-on when he stopped you by catching your wrists. Like a disappointed teacher, he made a disapproval sound with his tongue. 

“Patience, Red,” he teasingly said to you as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it off of you with one swift move. You fell back to the bed with a gasp, shocked to see how easy it was for him to take over until you were left with nothing more but your lacy underthings. 

The intensity you felt from his gaze made you want to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. But being half inebriated was making you slow in thoughts and movement that you couldn’t do anything but lay still. At the same time, you enjoyed the way he was looking at you, loving how he was losing himself to you the same way you did to him. 

But it was the words that he said next that further brought out your wanton needs.

“Be a good girl and stay still. I want you to stay just like this,” he said with a murmur while his eyes ran down your body, “I want you to lie on your back while you are screaming out my name.” 

If only you hadn’t been so lost for words, perhaps you would have challenged him in return. Instead, by the time every piece of his clothing was gone, you felt like you had melted further into the sheets. The raw passion you saw in his gaze and the way he was tracing his fingertips on your skin had locked you completely in place, leaving you with no other option but to surrender as he took control.

He bent down, his lips came down to your neck. Planting his kisses on your skin, he kept your attention away from his hands as he snapped off your bra and went down to pull your panties down your hips. As he dragged your panties down your bare legs, he continued his kisses further down, not stopping until he reached your heaving chest. 

You couldn’t even remember what happened to that flimsy piece of fabric that he took from you. Everything else faded as his tongue grazed across your chest, drawing a gasp out of your lips. His firm hands returned to your hips right then, holding you down while he captured your taut nipple between his teeth. 

The feeling that coursed through you was heavenly. A shooting pain came with a flare as he bit down, yet it was quickly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of pleasure when he lapped the pain away with his sinful tongue. 

“Tae—”

His body quivered against yours at the sound of your voice. He pulled away with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched you arching your chest as if you were chasing him. 

He ran his gaze down your body. Perusing you while silently admiring what he was seeing while he licked his lips. As if he was picturing the way you would taste. 

“Tell me how badly you want this, Red,” he taunted you with his hand reaching out to the nightstand. You vaguely saw him grabbing a condom while you were struggling to breathe. Your eyes fell on his exposed, throbbing cock, and words simply left you. 

Seeing its impressive size and girth, your entire body erupted with a pulse. It started from deep inside your core, right where you wanted to feel him the most. Astonished, you failed to remember that he was still waiting for your answer with his eyes locked on your face. 

And he made you struggle further to find words when he reached down, wrapping his long fingers around his cock and started giving himself slow, lazy strokes. You could see the bead of his pre-cum glistening under the dim lighting. It took everything in you to stop yourself from leaning forward and lapping him dry. To have a taste, before you let him devour every drop of your essence. 

“Red? Talk to me,” he spoke to you again with a curious tone in his voice. 

He knew that he wasn’t getting any attention, as your eyes were locked only at one place that was not his face, and he seemed to be curious to know what was making you so lost in thoughts. 

Instead of answering him, you continued to watch, completely transfixed by his actions, as he slowly spread his pre-cum along the length of his cock. You licked your lips, almost as if you could taste him. A barely concealed whimper slipped out of your lips when you watched him slowly roll the condom to cover himself from the tip of his cock and down to the base. 

Seeing him covered with protection seemed to snap you back to the present. Even if your pulsing need still refused to tame down. 

Resting back against the pillows, you dragged your eyes away from his impressive cock to his beautiful face. 

“I want you here. Inside me,” you finally responded to his question. Placing your palms on the underside of your thighs, you parted your legs open, making him see the mess that had been building up right between your legs while you were enjoying the show he was giving you. 

Now it was your turn to give him a show. 

Reaching between your legs, you moved your fingers to find your folds. You bit back a gasp once the tips of your fingers were met with your wet arousal. It felt slick as you moved your fingers around, parting your nether lips so he could see your swollen clit, before you moved your fingers in circles, pressing at yourself the exact same way you wished he would. 

“Please, fuck me, Tae. Fuck me good.” 

His pupils dilated at the sound of your voice, at the pleading words you were giving him. You loved the way he was reacting to you just as much as he did with you, yet you decided to push his buttons further by adding, “And then I want to hear you scream my name while you cum inside me.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “What a little brat,” he said, chuckling. “So you like to play games, hmmm?” 

You bit your bottom lip, holding back a moan that was threatening to come out when your touch inadvertently pushed against the source of your heat. “Oh, I do. Games are always fun.” 

While he continued stroking his cock at a lazy pace, he used the other hand to grab your neck. His palm fit perfectly as he wrapped it around the column of your throat, putting pressure that was not enough to choke you, yet enough to show you who was in control. 

“Then let’s play,” he groaned while he pressed you back down on the bed. “But this time, I make the rules.” 

You felt the electrifying pleasure surging through your body as he brushed your hand away and lined himself against your entrance, shutting down the circuits inside your brain for a moment and stopping you from wiggling too much beneath him just to feel more friction. 

A sharp moan was drawn from your lips as Tae slammed his full length deep inside you. The sensation that you felt from being filled by his width was so feral and explosive that you were sure you immediately experienced your orgasm right then and there. 

Your body must have been shaking, which was a response that you failed to notice as you had your senses filled with the steady pulse of pleasure pressing across the girth of his cock. He must have noticed it when he came to a halt, giving you a chance to process everything and adjust to his presence inside you.

Nothing made sense to you beyond the pulsing pleasure that you felt from your hot pussy. Your senses were filled with the sound of your racing heartbeat, the soothing touch of his fingers on your skin, and the whispers of his voice calling you back to him. 

He only managed to bring you back to the present by pressing gentle kisses on your lips, nose, and then on the rest of your face, stopping only after he kissed your lips again to draw your attention back to him. 

Your legs were quivering when you opened your eyes to see him, yet you could already tell from the way the pulses that came right where you were joined started to settle, that your body had adjusted perfectly to his size. 

But it didn’t mean that you would simply take it without sharing your thoughts. 

“You’re—big,” you complained with a soft moan when you felt him growing harder inside you. It didn’t stop you from rocking your hips, trying to feel more friction, while he merely chuckled at your words. 

“And it’s perfect for your tight pussy.” 

His words drew a gasp from you. But he didn’t pay much attention to it, as he slowly began to move. He started with a slow pace, which was torturous and agonising, forcing you to feel the delectable way his girth was brushing against your pulsing walls. 

Back and forth he went, going so deep you could almost feel him pressing up your stomach before pulling out until only the tip was buried inside you. He kept moving at the same pace, until you began to feel more desperate. Even your body was shaking with the need to feel more. 

“More—!” you whispered with a strangled moan, “go faster.” 

Hearing this, instead of doing what you were begging him to, Tae denied your plea by doing the opposite. With a wicked grin on his face, the fucker slowed down, bringing the pleasure that had been rising back down a notch. 

You opened your mouth to protest against it, and he moved his hands down your hips, stopping at your thighs where he gave you a tight grip. 

“You want more?” he asked you, his voice almost seemed to grow deeper, and you could feel a tinge of danger when he spoke. The same danger you saw coming through his gaze as he slowly brought your legs up. 

You expected him to stop once he got your legs up his shoulders. But he just kept going. And going. Until you were nearly folded with your legs almost pressed to your chest.

“Tae—!” 

It made you feel vulnerable, with nothing but your hands to use to hold on while he had full control of your body. He was still buried inside you, and this position allowed you to feel him more. As though you had grown tighter around him and he was growing bigger. His entire length and width made you feel full, as his cock was pressing tightly against your hot walls. 

“You wanted more,” he murmured as he began moving, rocking his hips slowly back and forth, going in and out of you, drawing more and more of that shuddering pleasure out of your body as he continued fucking you gently. “I’m giving you more.” 

He began increasing his pace. Going faster the more he heard you moaning in pleasure. “Lift your arms, Red. Bring them up and hold the pillows.” 

It took a moment for his words to register in your head. Your hands had been clutching tightly on his forearms and it was a struggle to let go. And he waited, tormenting you by keeping his pace much too slow to your liking until you followed his command. 

Your hands trembled as you unlatched them from his skin. You could barely feel your fingers as you dragged your hands up, as every part of your body grew more sensitive the more you opened your entire self to him. Keeping your eyes on him, you got lost in his intense gaze. 

It was then when you finally came in contact with the soft pillows above your head, and your fingers easily sank into them, latching onto them as you did when you were holding onto his arms.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmured gently, and you were pleasantly surprised to realise how much you loved hearing his praise. Warmth bloomed in your chest, and it easily made its way down right to your core. “Now hold on tightly and don’t let go.” 

And you did just that. Holding on tightly the way he wanted you to. 

Only once he gained complete control of your body, once you fully submitted to him, he finally fulfilled your wish. He held firmly on your thighs to keep them folded and open for him, and he began ramming his cock deep inside you. 

He was doing it faster. Harder. Sending you high in pleasure while all you could do was take his constant pounding. The only leverage you had to hold on was the tight hold you had on the pillows and the weight of his body that was pressing you down each time he pushed deeply inside you. 

The anomalous sounds coming out of both of your lips kept bouncing off the walls. Followed by the sound of flesh clashing against flesh, the slick sounds that came from right where you were joined, and the creaking sound of the bed beneath you. 

He kept going, relentless in his rough thrusts and his need to push you over the edge, until you could feel the rise of your orgasm coming in waves. The wanton pleasure that was hot and intense came rising inside you, growing rapidly with his deep thrusts until you finally succumbed to it, coming into your climax with a scream. 

“Tae, I’m coming,” you cried out to him as you fell over the edge, though you weren’t completely sure if the words coming out of your lips were as coherent as you thought they would have been. 

The sound of your pounding heartbeat seemed to drown everything away. Except that you could still hear the sound of his breathless grunts as they grew clearer, and the strangled moan that came out of him when he shouted, “That’s it, Red. Fuck, I’m coming!”

With a sharp intake of breath, he came to his climax. You felt every pulse of his release as he came inside you, and the tremble in his chest that surged through him with his deep groan as he relished the pleasure. Even after his release, he kept moving, rocking slowly and steadily until the spasms of your orgasm slowly began to wane down. 

He remained buried inside you when he gently released you from his hold. You could barely feel his lips pressing on your quivering thighs before he lowered them back on the mattress, yet his gentle fingers remained hot on your skin when he brushed up against you. 

He reached up and gently pried your fingers away from the pillows before slipping his fingers between yours. The way your fingers were entwined together felt so intimate. So unlike anything that you had ever thought about what a one-night stand would entail. 

Your body felt hot, and your muscles were lax, but there was a series of small spasms still going strong from deep inside you, coaxed by his incessant rocking. You should have been pushing him off of you, instead of embracing his weight as he lowered himself, covering your body with his own. 

“Tae—” you whimpered against his lips as he kissed you. Holding your hands in his, he continued to rock his hips. 

How he managed to remain so hard and stiff even after his climax was beyond you. He still felt thick as he moved. His cock brushed against your pulsing walls as he went in and out, awakening all sparks of pleasure that were supposed to have dwindled. 

And with how sensitive your body was, it rose and peaked so quickly and you had no power to stop it. 

“Too…much…” you cried between the strangled moans coming out of your lips, right before he swallowed them with another kiss. 

“One more,” he groaned as he picked up his pace. “Just do it one more time for me, Red.” 

You were so sensitive it was beginning to hurt, but the pleasure was also maddening that you didn’t want to stop. This time, he wasn’t holding you down so strongly, allowing you to move beneath him. So you rocked back against him, pushing up each time he was thrusting into you. It only took a couple of more strokes before the coil in your core snapped, and you were sent to another climax. 

And he joined you in your release, falling into a smaller climax of his own as you clenched tightly around him. 

He came with a deep groan. His whole body quaked against you before he finally fell on top of you. While you were trying to control your breath, his lips came brushing your neck, kissing you gently to help soothe down the shudders running through your body.

“Fuck…so perfect,” he sighed between his kisses, his voice came in and out through your senses, and the sparks you felt rushing through your body started waning as you were slowly drifting away into the night, with his words echoing in your dreams,

“You are perfect.” 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading so far. Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. The story continues in part 2.

⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢

© All rights reserved. 2024 Yoonia — Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited. 

[tokkiwrites]

summary: You're caught off guard when Wade calls you 'puppy'. He's even more shocked when he realizes how much it actually affects you in all the right ways. tags: pwp, established relationships, afab reader, pet play themes, degradation, dry humping, choking, cum eating, masturbaton (m receiving). /ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! my first deadpool fanfic yay!!! its kind of short, only 1.8k words but i hope you enjoy this nonetheless. not betad!

The soft glow of the TV flickers across the living room, casting shadows on the walls as you curl up next to Wade on the couch. The evening is unusually quiet, a break from the chaos that follows him around like a storm, something you'd gotten used to. His arm is draped gently over your shoulders, and your head rests against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing making you feel safe, even when you know that quiet never lasts long with Wade. he keeps you safeㅡ you just wish he'd keep himself too.

Wade was flipping through channels with a practiced boredom, sighing dramatically every few seconds. “How is there nothing on TV? Hundreds of channels, and I still can’t find anything to keep my superior intellect entertained.”

You roll your eyes, leaning over to steal a piece of popcorn from his bowl. “Maybe because you’ve seen every movie that involves crazy inhuman acts at least ten times.”

“Or,” he says, pointing at you with mock seriousness, “they just don’t make ‘em like they used to. I mean, where’s the drama? The art? The—” He pauses, turning to look at you with a grin. “I’m just kidding. I’m way too distracted by your cute face to care about movies right now.” and you can't help but blush. it felt stupid, but he made you feel like you were a teenager in love all over again.

Wade shifts beside you, stretching his legs across the coffee table with a satisfied groan. “Ah, domestic bliss. You, me, questionable snacks, and the delightful sound of my own voice,” he says, breaking the silence. “Does it get any better than this? No bullets, no explosions… I’m practically a whole new Wade.”

You smile, leaning into his shoulder, the smell of his cologne and a faint trace of gunpowder still clinging to him. “You sure you’re okay with a quiet night in? I mean, I know you’ve got that... thing where you need constant action.”

“I am fully committed to this lifestyle,” Wade declares, patting your leg as if sealing the deal. “I’ve already planned out our entire evening: sit, snuggle, snack, snarky commentary, and then maybe I serenade you with my totally above-average karaoke skills. You’ll swoon, I’ll catch you, and we’ll live happily ever after. It’s like a Hallmark movie, but with better one-liners.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head at his antics. “Swooning’s a big maybe. And since when do you plan things?”

“Since I started dating a woman who demands excellence,” he says, giving you a dramatic, exaggerated wink. “I’m a changed man, baby. No more flying by the seat of my pants… unless those pants are on fire. Which, you know, happens more often than you’d think.”

"Let's just watch the movie, Wade." You whisper softly whilst planting a gentle peck on his lips.

A few minutes later, the credits of some random action movie roll on the screen, and you stretch, deciding to get up and grab a drink from the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

Wade leans back into the cushions, folding his arms behind his head. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, puppy.”

You freeze mid-step, your hand gripping the edge of the counter, the word clinging to you like a spell. puppy? Your heart skips a beat, and you can feel the warmth creeping up your neck to your cheeks. The way it rolled off his tongue, like he didn’t even realize he’d said it, but it hits you harder than you’d like to admit, making your core burn up in an instant.

Turning around slowly, you glance at him, but Wade is staring at the TV, completely unfazed, as if calling you ‘puppy’ is the most normal thing in the world. “what did you just call me?” you ask, your voice coming out quieter than you intended, the heat washes over you.

Wade raises an eyebrow, turning to you with a smirk. “Huh? Oh, puppy? Yeah. What, you don’t like it?” He stretches his legs out a bit more, clearly enjoying the fact that he’s caught you off guard. You feel your face get even warmer, and you stammer, “I—I didn’t say that. It’s just… I didn’tㅡ” you stumble and get tangled in your own words.

His smirk grows, and he tilts his head as if he’s just made the most fascinating discovery. “Oh,” he says, drawing out the word. "you don’t mind it, huh, puppy?" Your stomach flips at the way he says it again, with just enough teasing in his tone to send your nerves into overdrive. You quickly busy yourself with grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen, hoping he won’t notice how flustered you’ve gotten.

But Wade is Wade, and of course, he notices. He’s grinning now, watching you with amused eyes as you awkwardly sip from your glass. It's like he can smell it on you. “You’re so cute when you’re all flustered, you know that?” he adds, still teasing. “Should I call you ‘puppy’ more often?”

You shake your head, trying to will away the blush on your cheeks, but you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “No… I mean, maybe. I don’t knowㅡ I'm sorry, it's weird." he laughs, sitting up and pulling you back down onto the couch beside him. “Too late." he chirps, voice dropping down an octave.

You bury your face in your hands, trying your best to ignore the growing wetness in your panties. "Maybe I'll get you one of those cute collars, with a bell...make you crawl on all fours around the house, hm?" you let out a shaky breath, mumbling a soft 'Wade' as his hands snake around you and up your back, his rugged palm finally in your hair. "You'd want that, huh? be my good little puppy." the ringing in your ears picks up, heart running wildly in your chest as a hursh tug of you locks pulls you off of wade. "Show me."

"Whㅡ?"

"Show me you're a good pet, baby. Show me you deserve to have me as an owner." oh, and how your pussy flutters at his words, eyes wider than before, pupils fully blown out and lips puffy from how much you've bitten them. "You wanna make me proud, right?" you let yourself play his little dirty game, arousal coating your very being. "Y-Yes?"

"Yeah? Get down. On your knees, c'mon." You quickly obliged, not wanting to waste any more moments. the way his eyes scanned you, top to bottom as you kneeled in front of him, as if waiting for a treatㅡ it drove him mad.

"I want you to hump my leg." you choke a bit on your own breath. "Wade whatㅡ?" but he quickly shuts you up with a gentle slap to the mouth with the back of his hand. "Do dogs talk? I don't think so...They take orders and do as they're told." you gulp the knot in your throat, wades dark voice making each hair stand up on your body. something about this was so exciting, so new.

you hesitate at first, but with a few breaths in you scoot yourself over so that your clothed cunt is now directly on top of his foot, the sudden pressure on your swollen bud making you whimper. wade can't help but smile seeing you like this. his hand reaches out to the other end of the couch where a leather belt laid for the past few days. in a few moves the accessory is wrapped snug around your throat, with wade holding one end of it.

"Look so pretty like this, puppy. Go on now." he motions you to move. you slowly start rocking your hips, your knees already aching from the rough carpet underneath you, but the pain hurt so good mixed with the friction and heat from your underwear. the belt tightened as wade pulled on it, earning a soft gasp from you. "Faster, show me you want it."

and show you do. in a few second your speed picks up, breasts bouncing as you chase your high. your eyes are teary, vision blurry and mouth wide open as you gasp for air. the belt was digging into your skin, you knew you'd be bruised for the next few days, but you didn't care. "Open your mouth, pup." You're quick to obey, and the moment your lips part wade leans in closer only to spit right onto your lulled out tongue. "Swallow." he's stern and rough with his words and actions, leaning back as he watches you fuck yourself onto his leg. he enjoyed seeing you like this, nothing behind your eyes, just the thought of pleasing him. "You look so dumb right now, baby." he laughs, tugging harder at the belt. "I thought i needed to get you cockdrunkㅡ turns out i don't even need to give you any dick. there's literally nothing else in that small puppy brain of yours, huh?"

you whine and whimper as you feel your orgasm near, wades words only amplifying that feeling. you couldn’t even form a sentence. you didn’t even try. it felt perfect like this, at his feet. "Keep your tongue out." he commands, as he reaches his hand into the boxer shorts he was wearing and pulling out his erect shaft. the tip was leaking, and you swear it was harder than you've ever seen before. wades hand wraps tightly around the base of it, and gives it a few pumps as he watches you continuously rub yourself onto him. "Poor pussy, baby. probably so needy for this cock, hm?" you mumble a few incoherent 'yes's, fingers gripping tightly at his thighs. "Want me to come on you, pup? make you clean it up after, lick it all up like the good doggy you areㅡ shit." you were so close, you could barely hold your head up anymore.

"Fuckㅡ that's right, pup, earn it. Earn my come." he groans, stroking himself, veins pulsing, hips bucking up into his hand. your moans fill the room, the fuzzy feeling in your brain getting harder to overcome. thats when you feel it ripping through you, that familiar feeling that was pulled in your core now erupting like a million fireworks. your eyes roll back as you mindlessly keep moving your body. you hear wade mutter a harsh 'fuck' before you feel warm drops fall onto your tongue, face and chest, then trickle down. you try your best to swallow whatever you can as you both sit like that, breathless for a few second.

"And I thought I had weird kinksㅡ"

"Wade!"

[neeeooon]

Hi! Can I request Blue Lock boys with an S/O who is just as protective over them as they are? For example, defending them when someone is bitching about them or starting an argument w them for no reason. The boys deserve to be fought for too! Also I would like it if you write for the Itoshis, Isagi, Kaiser, Nagi, Barou and Zantetsu. I'm sorry if its a lot ㅠㅠ you can choose from these characters if its a lot. Thank you <33

YES ofc and i agree we need more defensive/protective y/n’s !! thank you for the request! <3

when you’re protective over them ;

bf bllk x protective gn!reader. cw: lots of cussing in isagi’s (by you), lowk harassment in barou’s, pet names (multiple in zantetsu’s)

itoshi sae

-> sae doesn’t care much for drama or defending himself. he’s blunt and he finds it pointless, since people will always find a way to entertain themselves one way or another

-> you are not like that

-> “oh my gosh, are you itoshi sae? can we get a picture with you?!” a group of high schoolers giggle and jump around your boyfriend in excitement, but you can see the tension in his shoulders as he raises a hand. “no.”

-> “aw, come on, please? we’re your biggest—“ “did he stutter?” that shuts them up pretty quick. “no? hm, me neither! now, kindly leave :)”

-> they do ask told, grumbling about how mean you are, but you ignore them and turn to sae. “why don’t you fight them off or something? your space gets invaded all the time.” “they would have left eventually.” “hmph. good thing you have me to fight your public battles!”

-> sae doesn’t care enough to fight any battles, but he finds your protectiveness cute, so he pats your head and says, “perfect. good job, y/n.” you may have blushed

itoshi rin

-> you want to fight his brother so bad when rin finally tells you his side of their disagreement, but you don’t because you know some battles don’t involve you

-> others do. like the wannabe interviewer who approached your boyfriend one day to hound him for answers about his relationship with sae

-> “i, uh… i-i—“ “what the hell do you think you’re doing? get away from him!” you barely have time to look both ways before running across the street and throwing yourself between your pale boyfriend and the pushy “interviewer”

-> he groans at your interruption and pops an annoyed hand on his hip. “excuse me, we’re in the middle of something—“ “rin, do you want to talk to this guy?” rin shakes his head, and you raise a brow at the interviewer. “he said he doesn’t want to talk to you. that means leave before i make you leave.”

-> “you can’t threaten me! you should respect your elders, young—“ “it wasn’t a threat. it was an option. you can either walk away now, or crawl away later. the choice is yours.”

-> he chooses the former, leaving you with your shaken boyfriend. “are you okay? that guy was totally insensitive and pushy and… are you okay?” “i’m okay. thank you, y/n.” “don’t thank me. i’m here to love and protect you!”

isagi yoichi

-> isagi was raised in such a loving home. where do you think his potty mouth came from?

-> “touch a hair on his head again, and i’ll make you watch as i fuck your mother,” you spat at the boy writhing on the floor after punching him in the face

-> blinking at the scene before him, isagi shakily wraps a hand around your shoulder and pulls you away from the guy who’d dared to grab his hair while he was in your sight

-> “you didn’t have to punch him—“ “i’m sorry, i just really hate when people think they can put their dirty, disgusting, shitty hands all over you without asking. it’s so icky!”

-> he’s about to say ‘i can defend myself,’ but isagi likes having someone love him enough to defend him like you do. it makes him feel special, and he hopes you know he’d do the same if anyone tried messing with you

-> “you’re awesome, y/n.” “i know. kidding, you’re really fucking awesome too, yoichi!”

michael kaiser

-> you were already protective over kaiser before he told you about his past. knowing why he’s so stiff around older men just adds fuel to you protective flames

-> you’re shopping for groceries with kaiser when an older gentleman wearing a pxg jersey approaches, and you’re immediately on high alert

-> “hey, you’re that kid from, uh, bltv!” he scoffs, and you can feel kaiser’s grip tightening around your hand. “yeah, it’s you, alright. your teammates play dirty. you’re all d—“

-> you’re in his face before he can get the words out. “finish that sentence. i dare you.” you smile sweetly, but you know he can see the threat in your eyes. “see what happens.”

-> flustered, the gentleman hesitates a moment before turning and continuing his shopping elsewhere. you turn to see kaiser staring at you with wide eyes, his fingers wrapped loosely around his throat. “you… defended me?”

-> “of course i did,” you keep your movement casual, trying not to alarm him as you carefully pull his hand from his neck and knot your fingers together. “you’re mine. no one will ever speak to or about you like that as long as i’m here.”

nagi seishiro

-> nagi is too lazy to defend himself. which is where you come in!

-> you’re at a gaming cafe, searching for seats, when someone shoves past your boyfriend, knocking him back slightly from the force of the push

-> nagi would have brushed it off, but the guy puffs his chest out and puts his finger in your boyfriend’s face. “you gonna apologize, dick?”

-> nagi tries to slink away, but the guy goes to grab his hoodie, and your hand is on his wrist. “what the fuck do you—?!” “you’re not going to touch him again. grow a pair and get the fuck out of our way.” “!!!”

-> but he must see how dark your stare is, because the guy shivers and pulls himself from your grip so he can leave

-> sighing, nagi drapes a loose arm around you shoulders and pulls you into his side. “what a hassle. you didn’t have to do that.” “yes, i did. someone’s gotta defend you, ya lazy boy.” “lame… i love you.” you kiss his cheek. “i love you, too.”

barou shouei

-> it’s not like barou needs your protection. that doesn’t mean you aren’t protective of him, anyway

-> with soccer comes fame, and with fame comes fans. some who think they have some sort of claim over your boyfriend and his body

-> barou is signing some autographs for the ubers when a little group of fans, a mix of energetic men and women who are a bit too old to be staring at your boyfriend the way they are, approach

-> you know barou isn’t allowed to reject or shove them when they invade his space, but when you see one of them give his bicep a squeeze, another reaching for his waist, you see red

-> “absolutely not,” you grab the back of the person’s collar and tug, causing them to flail and stumble away from your boyfriend. “you can take your signature and photo, but you do not have the right to put your hands on him.”

-> offended and embarrassed, the group leaves, and you feel barou slip a hand over the small of your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “that was sexy. who knew you’d get so protective over me?” “um, me. no one can run their hands over your body but me.” “mmm, deal.”

zantetsu tsurugi

-> you hate how people call your boyfriend dumb, and you hate that he believes them

-> he may not be the most intelligent guy around, but that doesn’t make him “stupid” or “useless”, and you will (and have) willingly throw hands with anyone who insults him

-> you’re waiting outside your boyfriend’s classroom when he emerges with two students following close behind, berating him over a problem he solved incorrectly in front of the class

-> “how have you not been held back, ya dummy?” “my baby sister could solve that problem, and she’s six!” “yeah! dumba—“ they freeze when they see you and visibly cower

-> cocking an amused brow, you’re glad to see that your reputation proceeds you. “you know who i am, don’t you?” they nod. “and you know who he is to me, hm?” they nod. you smile. “good. i’ll give you three seconds to apologize, or i’m taking your tongues and stapling them to your foreheads.”

-> they run off, leaving you alone with your pouty boyfriend. you instantly cup his face and scan his features with concern. “what’s wrong, sweet boy? did anyone else say something to you?”

-> zantetsu huffs, his cheeks puffed slightly between your hands. “won’t you get in trouble for yelling at them? it’s not like they were wrong…” “oh no, baby, not for that. bullies get what they deserve. and you’re not dumb! you’ll tell me if anyone else says anything mean, won’t you?” he nods. “i will :3” “good boy!”

[fairyminnie444]

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥.

Reality always bends to your will when you take absolute command over your perception and inner state. Everything already exists, and what you experience is merely a reflection of what you have accepted as truth.

Inspired by Nero Knowledge’s blog, I created a small training to master reality, easily and practical. No more excuses, no more postponements, no more "buts" and "ifs". Now is the time to act as the god of your own reality, let's go:

⊹₊ ⋆ 1. Creating Absolute Inner Reality ⊹₊ ⋆

You must decide that your desired reality is the only truth that exists. No matter what is happening outside, it is not real to you. What is real is only what you have already decided is.

❤︎ Instead of “fighting” the current reality, do not give attention for what doesn’t align.

❤︎ If something seems “contrary,” simply ignore it. (If you can't ignore it, think and know definitively "what's happening here doesn't change the fact that I already have what I want." It's done.)

❤︎ Practice selective blindness: focus only on what reinforces your success.

⊹₊ ⋆ 2. Reality Distortion - Total Control of the Environment ⊹₊ ⋆

❤︎ Train your perception to see only evidence of your desired reality.

❤︎ Manipulate 3D through the absolute certainty that everything is molding itself to you.

❤︎ The focus is on not getting emotionally involved with passing circumstances.

⊹₊ ⋆ 3. Using “I AM” Fluently ⊹₊ ⋆

❤︎ Think of I AM as an absolute truth, not as something you need to affirm all the time.

❤︎ If a thought of scarcity arises, simply correct it without drama:

❤︎ Examples:

“What if no money comes?” → “Money always comes anyway.”

“sp: what if he doesn't call me?” → “he has no choice but to call me.”

“appearance: what if I look in the mirror and don't see this?” → “I am already this the moment I imagine myself like this and decide.”

❤︎ Your I AM needs to be the automatic response to any doubt.

❤︎ Understanding that I AM is the activation of instant reality.

❤︎ Using I AM with conviction to consolidate your identity and generate visible results.

❤︎ Applying the “Reality Leap”: acting and feeling as if you were already in the desired position.

⊹₊ ⋆ 4. Shielding Yourself Against the Fear of Failure ⊹₊ ⋆

❤︎ When your identity is solid, there is no wrong decision.

❤︎ Even if a path seems “uncertain,” it always leads to your success.

❤︎ Everything you do accelerates your ascent because you are already at the top.

❤︎ Enter a state of mind where there is no possibility of failure. Cause there isn’t.

‧₊ ᵎᵎ ⋅ ˚✮ Some important observations:

Your perception shapes your reality. If you see lack, it is lack. If you see your desire already fulfilled, it is already done.

The training is to strengthen you, not to imprison you. You do not need to fight against your emotions or bad feelings if you have them. Feel them, but do not identify with them. They do not define you or your reality.

The secret is to integrate the “I AM” automatically.

Example of Integration:

❤︎ Are you in the shower? “I AM a (insert your desire here)”

❤︎ Are you eating? “My success is natural.”

❤︎ Going to sleep? “My reality is already done.”

You do not need to feel a great emotional impact with each repetition. The goal is to make this normal.

If any negative thought arises now or during the day, stop immediately and replace it with a powerful “I AM.”

Practical example:

❌ “But what if it takes a while?” → “I AM living proof that everything happens in my time, and my time is NOW.”

❌ “What if I don’t have enough money today?” → “I AM a wealth magnet and I get paid in all forms, from all directions.”

❌ “What if I have to work harder than I want?” → “I AM so valuable that everything comes to me effortlessly.”

Reality does not respond to what you want, but to what you ARE. Be now, without waiting for external proof.

3D reality is just a mirror of what you have already assumed internally. You don’t need to fix the mirror, you need to change what it reflects.

Don’t seek proof, be the proof.

You don’t wait, you DECIDE.

When you hold this stance, reality has no choice but to bend to your will.

[princessmaeee]

I think I need myself some secret romance T.O.P and GD's little sister

Discretion ? I don't think So

Hello ! So, first of all, I'm sorry for the wait, it often take me some time to do the request cause I need time to think and get inspired. The challenge with that was to make it in one part so it's more of a relation than romance. Otherwise for a fanfiction it probably could have been a cute Slow Burn. I hope you will still Like it. TW : Not full Smut but mention of it.

You stepped out of the train and directly rushed into Jiyong's arms when you noticed him. Since you didn't live  at Seoul and didnt have a car Yet, when you want to visit your brother, you always take the train and of course, he’s always there to bring you at the train station. With all the fame Big bang has, having you around is always a little bit dangerous. Even If you are G-Dragon's little sister and all the fanbase knows about you, sneaking you into the house is not that easy. After all, your brother lives with other guys and if the fans came to know about you staying with them even for vacation, that could be a problem. Who knows what can happen in those walls. And actually, The fanbase wouldn't be wrong this time. After all, you are secretly in a relationship with Seung Hyun for almost a year now and even your own brother doesn't know about it. When You visit him at Seoul, it's of course to see and spend time with him but also with your boyfriend. When you can’t do a trip to Seoul, it happen that Seung Hyun come to see you or his days off and pass two or three day at your place and as much as you like to have him around, it’s kinda hard since you can’t do activities like a normal couple outside of the horse so you prefer to see him at Seoul. It’s easier to plan things and have more privacy. On your way to the boys house, you talk with Ji Yong about recent things that happened at work and some drama around it. You said how some coworkers are annoying, asking you out again and again, making him laugh.

_Why are you Laughing ? _They seem to like you a lot to ask you again and again. Why do you not accept to just go out with one of them ? _Well, because… I don’t want a Boyfriend. I need to focus on my work and I don’t want any distraction. And if things didn’t end well, I don’t want things to be weird or the other coworker to involve themselves into everything. _Yeah, now that you mention it, it’s totally fair.

It’s kinda hard to not be able to say to Him that you already have a Boyfriend. Normally I would have been the first to know, but since this person is a member of his group, you prefer to keep it secret to avoid potential problems. As much as you wish to marry Seung Hyun and end your life with him, you are still careful cause you both don’t want to create issues if your relationship has to come to an end.

Once you entered the boys house, you could smell something nice in the air and smiled. Daesung and Taeyang, who were playing video Games came to greet you and hugged you. Seung Hyun was the last one to come see you and when you saw him, you couldn’t help it and smiled more. He wore a dirty apron, making you guess he was one who cooked tonight. He does that often when he comes to see you at your place. Actually He never let you cook when he’s around. You hope it’s not cause once Ji Yong told everyone you messed up some easy recipes like rice or eggs. You even burned some cookies you had made for school when you were sixteen. Now you are way better at cooking things since you live alone.

_What are you making for us Tonight, Seung Hyun ? Asked your brother _Oh, you're gonna see. Something you will probably enjoy, he answered as he gave you a look. _And How do you know she will ? _You talk about her so much, I start to guess what she will like, he answered before his eyes went back to you. You will have to excuse me for not giving you a hug like the others did, I'm sort of… dirty. _It’s fine, let’s save this for later, you answered with a smile. Do you need help in the kitchen? _Hell No, answered Ji Yong, I would like to still have a Kitchen by the end of the evening. Let Seung Hyun handle it while we go put your stuff in your room.

The boys laugh at your brother’s comment and you blush,embarrassed. Your brother let you use Taeyang old room. Since he lives with his wife now, this room is empty most of the time and almost became yours. You planned to stay a week so you packed a lot of outfits and even some more… revealing, hoping to have at least one moment alone with your boyfriend. As you put everything in the drawers, someone knocked at your door before it open. You turn around to see who it was and smile when you notice Seung Hyun. He had removed his dirty apron. You didn’t lose time and threw yourself in his arms, hugging him tightly as he hug you back.

_I missed you, you said. _I missed you too.

You stayed a little more in his arms before he let you go. You gave him a kiss on the cheek and went back to your clothes duties.

_For how long did you plan to stay, he asked. _A week, at least. I took vacation from work because I wanted to spend more time with you. I hope it’s okay.. _Of course, We will figure out when we can have a little date.

You both heard Ji Yong's voice from the kitchen, saying the meal will burn if Seung Hyun does not come back to watch after it. You rolled your eyes as your boyfriend opened the door.

_See you later, love, He said before leaving.

The first evening you had with the guys was fun. Seung Hyun's food was delicious as alway, he even cooked cookies. He was right about how much you will enjoy it, cause you did. After dinner, you helped the boys to clean the kitchen and discussed having a game night. Taeyang refused, saying he had to go home, but all the others agreed. Ji Yong and Daesung left to go grab some snacks at the grocery store, leaving you alone with Seung Hyun. You quickly decided to go take a shower. As you undressed in the bathroom, the door behind you slowly opened before you could feel your boyfriend’s arms around you and his lips on your naked shoulder. You shiver and smile.

_Want to take a Shower with me ? You asked softly. _I would love to, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. The guys will come back soon.

You turned around and passed your arms around his neck, still smiling.

_So we're gonna have to make it quick.

You pressed your Lips against SeungHyun's, as your fingers slided in his air.  His hands on your hips pulled you closer to him as he answered your kiss. You slowly take a step back, still holding him, carefulling making your way to the shower, your lips still glued to his. When you were close enough, your hands went down to the base of his top and removed it, pulling away from his lips before you crashed it back to it.

_Okey, You win, Go first, I will join you in a minute, said Seun Hyun against your lips.

You pulled away, smiling before you started the shower and entered it.  When your boyfriend was ready, he joined you in it and pushed you against the cold wall of the shower. His lips came back to yours  and you quickly started to forget that you had to make it really quick. The room was filled by the steam of the shower but also from the heat of your bodies collapsing against each other.  Once you finished ‘’ taking a shower ‘’ you got out and rolled yourself in a big towel as Seung hyun put his around his hips. He gently kissed you on the forehead and left the room first. That’s when you heard your brother’s voice coming from the living room.

_What about time guys. You could have told us at least that you wanted to be alone.

Seung hyun had frozen in the living room when he noticed JiYong and Daesung on the couch. You felt your cheeks burning and you quickly put on your pyjama before getting out of the bathroom to join them in the living room. This time, you had nothing to say. No excuses could be used.

_From how long have you been back ? You asked _Long enough to hear things I would like to never hear again. But at least we had our headphones.

You looked at Seung Hyun, he looked as embarrassed as you.

_I know you guys are a thing but next time, warn us. Since when ? Asked your boyfriend _I had my doubts when Once a month your snapchat map says you are at my sister’s house. And We also caught you when we came back from the studio and you were asleep on the couch last time Y/N visited. And after today I can be certain that discretion is not your thing at all.

As much embarrassed you felt, you were sort of happy that your brother knew. You will not have to hide anymore in front of him or any other group member, at least.

[alaia777]

CONGRATULATIONS FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!!! <333 IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU AND THANK YOU FOR THIS EVENT 🙏😈

id appreciate if you could do one with Rin and the prompt being:

⊹ i love your attention, but i love peace and quiet more—so hush.

Please make it fluff🙏🙏😭 (you can ignore this if you want but I'd appreciate it if you could add a little scene where Rin kisses the reader to shut them up 🤭)

thank you so so much. this was so fun to write, i hope you like it !!!! 🩷🩷🩷

it was the first time in months that you woke up before rin, and for some reason, today felt different. maybe it was the rare burst of energy that had you up at 6 a.m., already done with your routine, stretching like one of those influencers who post their “productive morning” videos. maybe it was the quiet stillness of the morning, the kind that made you want to savor it.

by the time the city started to wake, you’d already been out—grabbing coffee and pastries from the shop that opened early, spending some time at the park near your apartment, even feeding the pigeons like an old soul with too much free time. and yet, when you stepped back inside, your boyfriend was still exactly where you left him—fast asleep, completely undisturbed.

not that you blamed him. waking up too early, coming home too late—rin had been running on empty for weeks. you figured it had finally caught up to him.

so by 7:30, with nothing else to do, you settled onto the couch, coffee in hand, scrolling through your phone, catching up on the latest influencer drama like it was the morning news.

when you heard the duvet rustling in your shared bedroom, you were already on your feet, making your way over before rin could even sit up. he was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when you jumped onto the bed, grinning.

“good morning, baby cakes.” even with his hand over his face, you could tell he was rolling his eyes.

“why are you up so early?” he muttered, his voice still rough from sleep.

“because the early bird catches the worm, and i caught us some warm, delicious pastries.” you paused, then sighed. “well, they were warm.”

“but that doesn’t matter. you know that drama about that woman on the internet i told you about? yeah, there’s more.”

without waiting for a response, you launched into the latest updates, detailing every twist and turn—what she did, the backlash, the people involved, and why the internet was in chaos over it. rin, still half-asleep, stared at you with a blank expression, his eyes barely open as he listened in silence.

“but wait—there’s more,” you added dramatically, climbing into his lap and cupping his face between your hands, determined to make sure he was paying attention.

he let out a slow exhale, clearly questioning all of his life choices. “i love your attention, but i love peace and quiet more—so hush.” his hand came up, covering your face as if that would be enough to stop you.

you audibly gasped, prying his hand away. “first of all, rude. second of all—” you sat up straighter, regaining your composure. “as i was saying, she was bragging about her designer bags while her kids don’t even have beds—”

you didn’t even get to finish, because rin’s hands were on your cheeks, pulling you in, cutting you off with a kiss—not to be sweet, not to be romantic, but purely to get you to stop talking.

your brain stalled for a second, words failing you as you processed what just happened, and when you finally snapped out of it, you caught the slightest smirk tugging at his lips. that little shit.

“rin, you need to brush your teeth.”

his smirk instantly dropped as he rolled his eyes, shoving you off him with zero hesitation before dragging himself out of bed and heading for the bathroom. you barely had time to laugh before the sound of the door closing echoed through the room, leaving you alone, victorious.

[thestarrynightslover]

Discreet Not Detached

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1,397

Warnings: None, really.

Summary: Mike goes to Harvey's apartment to deliver some files only to be proved wrong about his boss being a lonely workaholic.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: My first Harvey fic in a while, I had the idea based on an episode (I don't remember exactly which) and tried to elucidate to it here. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck and feedback is appreciated as usual!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

Another day in the office, another drama for Harvey Specter: this time it was his associate, Mike Ross, wanting to tell his girlfriend the whole truth about the terms of his employment and Harvey couldn’t let him do it, for obvious reasons. But, as you’d expect, namecallings happened and it all ended with Mike throwing in Harvey’s face his being an alleged workaholic in lack of a personal 一 and, in this case, love 一 life. Emphasis on alleged, cause what Mike didn’t know was that his boss actually did have someone to go home to…

It had been a long day but at least you got to go home to your excentric puddle of comfort of a boyfriend: New York City’s best closer, Harvey Specter. Once you got to your place, where the two of you lived together, you were welcomed with the smell and the view of a freshly cooked dinner that Harvey probably had someone making for the two of you.

As you started taking off your coat and shoes by the door, Harvey came out of your shared bedroom wearing nothing but sweatpants and looking like he’d just taken a shower. “Oh, hey, honey!” He greeted you with a smile on his face. “Sorry I didn’t wait for you to shower but I mingled too much with people of dubious hygiene today, so I kinda really needed to get clean.”

“Ah, that’s okay,” you said while pouting cutely at the same time. “At least dinner is ready, 'cause I am starving!”

“Ha! You say it like it’s cutting-edge news!” He tells you, as he puts on a shirt 一 much to your disappointment. 

“What is that supposed to mean?!” You ask feigning offense while putting away your bag, shoes, and coat.

“It means that you’re always starving, sweetheart,” Harvey answers nonchalantly like it’s nothing.

“That is not true! Or at least it’s not entirely true: I’m always starving if it’s past mealtime and I haven’t eaten!”

“Sure, whatever you say, baby!” He says it already knowing that your hunger and all the pet names will only soften you.

“You know what? After today I don’t even have the energy to bicker with you…”

“That bad, huh?”

“The ED was a complete chaos today, apparently all hospitals were swamped, which is why they called more surgeons downstairs to help out. I’ve been on my feet the entire day! I’m basically dead.”

“Dramatic… But I’m sorry you had a shitty day, baby.” He said coming to hug you from behind in your bathroom. Looking at your reflex in the mirror 一 both of you, together like that 一 filled your heart with love and your mind with peace. Harvey was definitely your happy place.

Some time later, after you’d had your dinner, gotten ready for bed, and watched a sappy rom-com you chose, you and Harvey were already cuddling, almost asleep when you heard insistent knocking on the door.

“Stay here, honey, I’ll go see what that’s all about.” You sorta heard Harvey say to you as you lost your personal space heater.

Out in the living, Harvey opened the door only to find his associate Mike Ross standing there looking all tired and disheveled. Before his boss could even say anything, he went ahead entering the apartment mumbling about the case they were currently addressing in the office.

“Harvey, you’re not gonna believe what I found about our not-so-innocent school teacher!” He said to the older man with such energy that sounded like he had had a few too many energetics.

“What the hell, Mike?! Why are you showing up on my doorstep this late at night?”

“Because I knew you’d wanna see this as soon as possible, besides, it’s not like you’d have anything important going here, would you?” Mike asked sorta mocking Harvey.

Ignoring his employee’s last comment, he took the papers Mike was offering and said: “This better be good, Ross, otherwise you’re gonna meet a whole different side of me.

As Harvey started reading all the documents, Mike started having a look around, cause when would he have another chance at taking a peek at his boss’s house like that again? And he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing, he would definitely be making a few thousand jokes about it in the near future: there was a romance novel lying on the table, one of those with drawings on the cover that were becoming so popular then.

“Oh my God, Harvey, when were you gonna tell me about your love for reading?” He asked while pointing at the book with his head. 

As Harvey’s eyes emerged from the papers in his hands with a confused look to them, Mike continued: “You know you could have told me, in fact after seeing the kinda genre you like I might actually ask for some recommendations, you know, to get my grandmother a few as presents.” The younger man said already starting to laugh loudly.

“That’s not mine…” Harvey began to answer with his mind still on the documents at hand.

“Oh no? You know there’s no need to lie to me, I promise I’ll try not to judge!”

“Funny. But that’s actually-”

“Mine!” You said as you came out of the bedroom wearing nothing but one of Harvey’s expensive dress shirts. “I don’t think we’ve met yet!” You exclaimed, already extending your hand to shake Mike’s. “I’m (y/n), Harvey’s girlfriend.”

“Girl- g- girlfriend?” Mike looked so shocked he almost choked on his laughter.

“Yes, but it’s doctor (y/l/n) for you.” He answered instinctively moving to your side. “What are you doing out of bed, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart?” Mike murmured to himself in disbelief of the version of Harvey he was seeing, especially after their argument in the office and the things he’d said to Harvey.

“Well, I assumed it was something work-related when I noticed how long it was taking you to come back and came to drag you back to bed!” You announced to your boyfriend entangling your bodies with certain disregard for the other man standing there in shock.

Only then did Mike notice a framed picture on the sideboard behind him and it displayed both you and Harvey looking at each other with love in your eyes as he carried you bridal style into the water on a beach. Which was another surprise to the young attorney since he didn’t even know that Harvey was a fan of beaches.

“So you’re the famous Mike Ross, then?” You asked, catching his attention again. “You know, it’s very rare for someone to impress Mr. Specter here like you did!”

“Oh, honey, don’t do that, or he’ll spend an entire month finding new ways to subtly bring up in every conversation-”

“Oh, there won’t be anything subtle about it, Mr. Specter,” Mike said mockingly, finally coming out of the shock he had been on. “But I’m curious now, how long have you two been together?”

“About three years, isn’t it, babe?” You answered quickly not paying any mind to the mockery on Mike’s voice.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Wow, I never would’ve guessed it. Harvey never talks about you. Like ever.” Mike impolitely announced. “I mean, I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend and it’s been months since we started working together.”

“Well, that sounds about right since we don’t like to display our personal lives at work.” You said nonchalantly.

“But do Jessica and Donna know?”

“Of course they do. Must I remind you that you’re not a Donna or a Jessica, Mike?”

“Ouch. But do Lewis and Rachel know?”

“No, and no. And as interesting as your findings were, it’s time for you to leave. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow at the office.”

“But-”

“Mike. Now!”

“Oh, Harvey, don’t be like that.” 

“He needs to go now and we need to go back to bed, so bye, Mike!” Harvey said while shoving Mike out the door.

And after he was gone, just like in the picture, Harvey picked you up from the floor and started carrying you back to the bedroom.

“Harvey!” You squealed out. But he didn’t mind it as he tossed you on the bed, got on top of you, and started kissing you. Apparently, Mike’s visit had put him in a good mood. And, apparently, it was going to be a long night.