#this is like. my first crush let me enjoy the experience | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satorusugurugurl · 8 months ago

Note

Can you please make something like y/n losing her virginity to Gojo and when she wakes up she misunderstood that Gojo just wanted to have one night stand and as he never make contact with any of his one night stand, so y/n left writing some notes for him. But Gojo genuinely loved her and then he searched for her finding y/n passed out somewhere or finding her getting attacked by some cursed spirit.

🥹🥹

First Time

Summary: You lose your virginity to you friend and co-worker, the strongest sorcerer of the modern age; Gojo Satoru

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!R

Word Count: 5,848 (oops!)

Warning: loss of virginity, mentions of drinking, fingering, jerking off, oral sex, smut, fights, assault, choking (not the fun kind)

A/N: Well this, this was a lot of fun! 😂💚 I got super into it Nonnie!! Thank you! Enjoy!!

“No, absolutely not. That is a terrible idea.” your best friend and colleague looked you in the eyes, not once breaking contact.

“What do you mean it’s a bad idea? Do you think he has something?”

“Do you honestly think I would know if that man had any sexually transmitted diseases?”

“Well, you’re saying it’s a bad idea. So I was just curious as to why you think that is.”

Nanami let out an aggravated sigh, “I don't think I know it’s a bad idea. I went to high school with the man, for God's sake. He is a serial cherry popper.” your best friend took a sip of his beer, aching his head as he did.

“So he has some experience in doing so.”

You ran your finger over the rim of your margarita glass. You were ignoring the cold, judging eyes of your best friend. Nanami knew you had a crush on Gojo for the last few years. The two of you were constantly flirting with each other, and just recently, he had gotten a little more touchy-feely with you, rubbing your shoulders and brushing his hand against yours. He went as far as to kiss your cheek. Nanami knew what he was playing at. The blue-eyed menace was buttering you up; he saw you as his next target.

“It doesn’t matter if he has experience. If you’re looking for anyone with experience, you could always come to me,” he whispered. Thank God that you were a little too out of it to notice what he said. He was trying to make a point; you both were nothing more than friends. The point he was trying to make, though, was that if you were that desperate to lose your virginity, you could always rely on him. “Gojo is notorious for having one-night stands. He’ll get what he wants and be gone the next day.”

“Do you know that for a fact?” Frustration began to rise in your chest. “ or is that just part of the rumor train?”

Nanami wasn’t sure how to answer that. He hadn’t personally met any of Gojo’s past relationships. He did know that several women had claimed he had popped their cherries and left the next day. So, of course, he was nervous for you. Nanami could see the glittering glaze in your eyes whenever you looked at Gojo. You were so into him it was almost painful.

“Rumor train,” Nanami confessed, looking away and“Then it’s settled!” despite your best friend's warnings, you got up and headed straight to the bar where the Gojo Satoru stood.“Hey Gojo.”

Your colleague and massive crush turned to look down at you. His hair was a fluffy mess, his dark sunglasses shielded, his beautiful eyes from you., and he had a smile on his face that could give anyone cavities. You both had been flirting with each other nonstop for the last three months. You have been waiting to see if he would be the one to ask you to go home with him, but you were tired of waiting.

“Hey, sweetheart~ having fun?” He took a sip of his soda.

“I'd be having a lot more fun if you took me back to my place.”

Satoru choked, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he coughed into his fist. Regardless of his initial reaction, you could see the desire in his eyes. He wanted as bad as you. The constant flirting, lingering eye contact, and subtle touches had brought you both here. Were you, for the first time in your life, inviting a man to come back to your apartment to have sex?

Losing your virginity didn’t have to be special. You were fine as long as it was with somebody who knew what they were doing. From how Satoru acted, there was no doubt in your mind that he knew how to please a woman. It was your virginity, and you chose to give it to Gojo Satoru.

“Seriously? Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my entire life. So what do you say? Wanna come to my place?”

There had been no questions asked. Satoru grabbed your hand and led you out of the bar and back to your apartment. That’s how you found yourself being slammed against the elevator door, Satoru’s mouth eagerly moving against yours in a fiery kiss. His hands reached up, massaging your breasts, causing mewls pleasure to leave your mouth.

“Fuuuck, oh fuck.” Satoru growled, his lips pressed against yours eagerly in between each word. “You have the most perfect tits.” His tongue gently flicked over your bottom lip, and the second you opened it for him, his tongue was in your mouth, gently moving against yours.

The raw carnal need behind his caresses of your skin and the way his lips moved against yours had you dizzy. Never once in your life had you ever felt so desired. Satoru wanted, but no, it was more like he needed you. Knowing that had your panties soaking wet.

“Oh fuck, Toru.” As Satoru’s fingers slid under your shirt, trailing over your heated skin, you arched your back off the cold middle of the elevator. “T-Toru~”

“Fuck you’re so goddamn hot.” Lips latched onto your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there. “You taste like a fucking gourmet meal~, and that's just your skin.” he took your earlobe between his teeth, nipping on it. “Can't wait to taste that cunt. I bet she's already wet~.”

His long fingers slid under your bra, brushing over your hardened nipples, rubbing the sensitive buds. “I-I’m so wet, so fucking wet.” Satoru hummed in your ear, and one of his sinfully skilled hands trailed down, slipping into your pants. “Holy shit!” you cried out as his long fingers gently rubbed over your throbbing clit.

“Oh fuck, you weren't kidding.” His fingers rub and tease your sensitive clit. “You’re soaked.” soaked was an understatement. Fisting his jacket, you bury your head in his shoulder as he trails his fingers lower, teasing your tight virgin entrance through your panties.

“F-Fuck, oh fuck.” Satoru pulls back, glancing down at you as the elevator reaches your floor.

“Your pussy is throbbing.”

“I need you, Satoru. Need you so bad it hurts.”

His soft pink lips find yours again in a searing kiss as he pulls his hand out of your pants. “Then take me home so I can take care of you.” Not needing to be told twice, you grab his wrist, dragging him to your apartment.

The second you're inside, Satoru kicks the door shut with his foot, hands locking it before they grab you. He is slamming you back into the wall of your entryway. His fingers make quick work of your shirt, unbuttoning it, tossing it to the side, his lips never once leaving yours, leaving you a breathless mess. He pulls back, giving you a chance to gulp down ark, as he pulls his shirt off, allowing you to run your hands down his toned abs.

“Bedroom?” he asks, lips attacking your neck as he lofts you off the ground.

Your legs wrap around him as he starts blindly moving forward. “First door on the left,” Satoru growls against your skin, turning right. “T-Toru, that's the bathroom, left!” The extremely sexy man grunts in response, making a swift left, nearly sending you tumbling over.

“Sor-” kiss, “sorry, I just can't wait to get inside of you.” The man you’ve had the biggest crush on for years tosses you onto your bed. Satoru doesn't even give you a chance to react; his hands unbutton your pants, yanking them down. “Fuck you smell so fucking good.”

He’s trailing kisses up your inner thighs, his teeth gently nipping at your skin. Skin that had never been touched by another person other than yourself. The sensation of his fingers, his lips, his teeth on you doing things you had only dreamed of him doing. It had you breathless.

“Satoru.” The man between your legs let out a hungry groan.

“I love hearing you say my name like that. Say it fucking more; I want to hear you scream my name.” his fingers hook under your underwear, yanking them to the side., allowing his tongue full access to your dripping cunt. “Say my fucking name.”

His warm tongue is on you before you can even process what he’s saying. His tongue laps at your entrance before slowly sliding up and down your lips, teasing your clit but not touching it yet. Being eaten out for the first time is like seeing God. Satoru is so skilled with his mouth that it has you digging your heels into the bed, toes curling, and your eyes rolling back.

Satoru hums against you, eyes brows furrowing as he seals his mouth around your dripping sex, sucking on it, teasing it with his tongue. His eyebrows knit in concentration, his eyes never once leaving your face. He is entranced with you and with your reactions. Satoru wants to make you cum; the man is determined to do so.

You didn’t stand a chance against him or his skilled tongue. The second he started flicking your clit with the tip, you lost all control. Reality seemed like it shattered into one million pieces as Satoru drove over the edge of your first orgasm with someone other than yourself. You buck up against his face, your head thrashes against your pillows, and you cum harder than you have in your entire life.

“Mmmphm, fuck.” Satoru growls from between your legs. “That’s it, baby, give it to me, give it all to me.” His tongue continues to lick and lap at your folds, making sure to leave not an inch of your unexplored with his mouth.

“T-Toru, oh fuck.” He had left you a pile of useless limbs. “N-Need you, want you inside of me.” you sit up, hands reaching for his pants, undoing the button. He sucks in a breath as your hand gently rubs over his hard, throbbing cock. “S-So thick, and it-it’s hard.”

“Yeah?” The smugness in his voice has you pressing your thighs together. “Wanna touch it~?”

Giving him a nod, you pull back, allowing him to lie down against the headboard. His breathtaking eyes never leave you, following your hand that slips under his boxers and pulls them down. His cock sprung up, bouncing as it stood straight in the air. The tip was a throbbing dark rosey color, the tip dribbling out pre-cum as it twitched in the cool air of your apartment. His hair is trimmed short, a happy trail leading from the v-line down to the base of his cock.

It draws you in like a siren calling sailors to the sea; you’re drawn to his cock. Your fingers try to wrap around it, but you can’t; he’s too thick. Satoru moans out in pleasure, feeling your warm, soft hand wrap around him. It’s so velvety and warm that your curiosity gets the better of you, urging you to stroke him up and down. You give in to the desire, jerking him off slowly.

“Fuuck, ooh fuck.” Satoru calls from above you, his thighs twitching, body shaking as you continue your movements. “Fuck sweetheart, feels so fuckin’ good.”

“I-I don't know what to do.” At the sound of your confession, Satoru chuckles.

“Want me to help you?” He watched as you bit down on your lip with a soft little ‘mhmm.’ “Alright, just follow my hand.” he wraps his larger, rougher hand around yours. “Here we go.”

Satoru drags his hand up and down his shaft, Allowing more pre-cum to dribble out of the tip, coating his shaft in the slick, sticky substance as makeshift lube. You know you should be paying attention to how his hand is moving. That way, you would know how he liked to be touched. But you can’t help but look at his face. His pale ivory skin is flushed, his lips are slightly parted as he whines, and his eyes are narrowed, focusing on your hand that is jerking him off with his.

Eroticism is not the way you would describe this; this was pure filthy porn for you. His face, the way he took his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on it, would forever be in your spank bank memory—his ab’s clenched and moved, and time with his deep raspy groans of pleasure. Satoru was losing himself in the pleasure of just your hand. You couldn’t wait to see the expression he made when he was inside of you.

“Sweetheart, fuck.” He groans, jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth together. “Fuuuck, your hand is so soft. If you keep it up, I’m gonna cum all over you.”

Hearing him say that, knowing that you could make the Gojo Satoru cum, you jerked your hand as fast as you fucking could. You swatted his hand away, taking complete control. Satoru threw his head back with a roar as you licked your bottom lip, focusing all your attention on how you were moving your wrist. Up and down, twisting and pulling it as he had shown you. Your free hand reaches down and his heavy balls, massaging him gently, urging him to spill his seed all over your hands.

His cock throbbed twice in your hand, and you thought for just a moment that he was about to cum for you. But before he could, his free hand swooped down and squeezed himself at the base of his cock, preventing himself from cumming all over your hand like you had wanted. His chest was heaving, and the flush on his face had spread the base of his neck down to his pectoral muscles.

Satoru swallows hard, wincing as you run your index finger over his slit, spreading the precum over his throbbing tip. “Why did you stop? Weren't you about to cum?” Strong hands grab your upper arms, flipping you so you’re the one underneath him.

“I was, but I would much rather cum inside of you.” those filthy words have your cunt drooling, your slick dripping down to the bed underneath you. “Is that okay~?”

“Yes, god, yes, please, please fuck me, Satoru.”

“Oh, you beg so nicely; how could I deny your request like that?” He slots his body between your thighs, and he rubs the head of his cock up and down your lips, smearing his pre-come over your clit. “Want me to grab a condom? I have one in my wallet.”

“No, I have an IUD.”

“Such a dirty, needy girl.” He presses the tip against your tight entrance. “You sure about this?”

He knew you were a virgin; you had mentioned it to him in passing in between your flirting the last few months. For him to take the time to ask you if you were okay with this made your heart sing. Nanami was wrong about him. Gojo wasn’t just going to up and leave; he genuinely seemed to care about you and what you wanted.

He was the perfect man to lose your virginity to.

“I'm positive.”

Hearing your consent, Satoru sighed in relief. “Awesome, just let me know if you need to stop.”

His cock gently pushes into you. You awaited the dreaded sharp, stinging pain you have been told about your entire life. But the pain never came. It was just a sensation of being full and some slight pressure. The unfamiliar sensation had you gripping Satoru’s biceps, digging your nails into his delicate ivory skin as you tried to adjust to the new feeling.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yeah, I just needed a second. It’s just a weird sensation.”

Satoru gently peppers kisses over your neck before meeting your lips once again. “Relax, I got you; I got you, baby.” Everything Satoru was doing for you had your muscles less tense as he pushed further inside of you. “You're taking me so well, such a good girl.”

“Satoruu~” your hands finally managed to leave his arms before wrapping around his neck, pulling him tighter against you.

“That's it, you’re gonna be good for me, right? Gonna let me bottom out inside that sweet tight cunt?”

You didn't even need to give him permission; his hips meet yours as he’s balls deep inside of you. You are breathing heavily against each other’s mouths. Your soft whimpering mixes in with his deep guttural groans.

“Tight, you're so tight, almost had me blowing my load like I was the virgin.” he pressed his mouth against yours and gave a soft, gentle kiss. “Are you okay?”

You nod, a wanton moan leaving your mouth as he begins grinding his hips into you and not entirely pulling out to thrust back in. But the simple grinding of his cock inside of your pussy, hitting your g-spot, made you squirm underneath him. Satoru repeats the grinding for a few minutes before his lips leave yours.

“I'm gonna start moving, okay?” Your little moans and nods were the only signs Gojo needed to see and hear to know he was ready to move. His poor little sweetheart hadn’t even been fucked thoroughly yet, and she already couldn’t find her voice. “Hey, if you need me to stop, just let me know.”

His hips move, gently pulling back before snapping forward, burying himself deep into your tight heat. He groans breathlessly, eyes shut tight as your walls clamp down on him. “Oooh fuuuck, fuck, you're so tight, so tight, baby.” he pulls out again, leaving you gasping before he immerses himself back into your cunt. “Fuck you feel that~ feel my cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy? Does that feel good for you, baby? Huh?” Satoru growls as he sets a gentle pace, gently fucking you into the bed.

“S-So good T-Toru, haaa haaah fuck you're twitching.” At the sound of your voice, Satoru’s cock twitched again, this time even harder, making you shudder at the knowledge you were making him feel this good.

“Of course, I’m twitching; you're so fucking wet and warm; it honestly feels like my dick is melting inside. So yeah, fuck, fuck,” his pace speeds up, “my dick is twitching inside of you because you feel so fucking good.”

Having sex felt so good! Having sex with Satoru, well damn, it was like heaven on earth. Well, you didn’t have anyone else to compare it to, but you knew that your first time was monumentally better than anyone else. He was so gentle, kind, and patient with you. You couldn’t think of anybody else that would be that sweet. God, he made you feel so good.

Your back arched off the mattress as you dug your nails into his back, climbing up his muscles with your nails. The pain dialed him up, pushing him to fuck you faster and deeper while trying to be as gentle as he could, knowing the fact that you were a virgin. He could only maintain his composure for so long thought.

“F-Fuck, ooooh fuck, fuck.” His cock is dragging against the spots deep inside of you that felt like pure pleasure every time he brushed against them. With each touch of those sweet spots, your wall hugged his cock, letting him know you were closer to your orgasm as much as he was. “Yeah, you like that baby? Like it when I fuck you like this? I popped your cherry, and now I’m fucking you into the mattress.” You’re so loud that your moans reverberate off the walls. “Yeah, you love it. You love my cock inside that pussy.”

“Y-Yeah! I love it!” A coil deep in your abdomen begins tightening and tightening. “I-I’m gonna cum!” eyes locking on with Satoru’s “Oh fuck, fuck I’m close, Toru!”

“Cum for me, milk my cock, sweetheart~ that's it~ that's a good girl~ yeah~” his thrust no longer has any rhythm; all that’s going on in his head is making you cum and filling you up.

Your orgasm hits you hard in the gut like a punch to the stomach. It’s not painful in the slightest. It is a pure, unfiltered pleasure. The kind pleasure that has you seeing white spots. You scream into the void as you squirt all over Satoru’s cock and the bed. The image of you cumming so hard sends Satoru tumbling over the edge right after you. He curses and grits his teeth before he latches his mouth into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin, leaving marks for only him to see.

You’re a shaking, sweat-soaked mess by the time Satoru pulls off of you, falling onto his side next to you. His lips gently press against your cheek before finding your lips. They move against yours in a symphony of pleasure and pure bliss. Satoru spoons you, his arms wrapping around your body, pulling you flush against his naked form.

“You did so good.” His voice is so soft, lulling you to sleep. “Such a good girl~ thank you for letting me be your first.”

You hum, happily turning to kiss him on the lips before resting your head against your pillow. Slowly losing yourself in the warmth of his body against yours. “Thank you for making my first time so special.” His fingers gently graze over your skin as he breathes heavily against the nape of your neck.

“Mhmm, you're welcome. Get some rest, okay?”

You don’t even answer because you’re already sleeping. You dream the most peaceful, beautiful dreams. Ones where you, Satoru, have sex, go out on dates and enjoy each other’s company. God, you couldn’t wait to see you the next day took you. What did the future have in store for the two of you? More happy-go-lucky memories like this? If you could live through days like this, you would be the happiest woman in the entire world.

Dopamine and serotonin spread through your veins throughout the night while you sleep and find you in the early morning sunlight. You’re under the crisp, cool sheets that cradle your body. It’s when you move to turn to look at Satoru that you realize just how sore your body is. You hurt in places that you didn’t know were even possible to hurt.

All you needed was a nice hot shower with your extremely hot partner, and you should be all set to go. Rolling onto your side to look at him, your smile fades. Satoru isn't there.

You reach for the side of the bed he had fallen asleep in, trying to see if his lingering warmth was there. Hoping that if it did, maybe he was in the bathroom or the kitchen making you breakfast in the movies. But the crisp sheets under your hands are cold. He must have left hours ago.

Sitting up in bed, you reach for your cell phone on the nightstand next to you. Unlocking it, you search for a message Satoru may have sent you about why he would leave after such a perfect night. There is no message. No missed calls, no text messages. Nothing. He had slept with you, taking your virginity, and he left you with nothing.

Everything from the night before was perfect. You both had a great time, so why would he get up and leave without telling you? Even if he went to get breakfast for the two of you, he could have at least texted you to let you know that. Even when you pulled yourself out of bed with wobbly legs, you discovered he wasn’t even in your living room, let alone your apartment.

The truth hit you like a wrecking ball. Nanami had been right. He warned you. Your best friend warned you that Gojo was a serial cherry popper. You didn’t listen to him. You thought you knew him better, but the months of flirting back and forth, the late-night conversations on the phone, and the missions meant more than just one nightstand.

The hopes of there being any connection between the two of you left your apartment just like he did. You would never not listen to Nanami again; he was always looking out for you. Since you hadn't heeded his warning, you had to suffer with the heartache you had brought upon yourself. That Sunday, you cried yourself back to sleep curled into a ball and mourned your stupidity and the loss of a relationship that never even existed

The next day, you texted Yaga, letting him know you wouldn’t be coming to work for the next couple of days. You needed time to think about what you needed to do next. Gojo was your colleague and a man with whom you were forced to go on missions and teach the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers. Being around him would be challenging. If things had played out differently, and he didn’t just up and leave you alone in the apartment, maybe you wouldn’t have to be weighing your options.

The way you looked at it, you had two different choices. You could completely ignore Gojo when you return to work—keeping things strictly professional between you. Or you could ask to be transferred to Kyoto, where you would never have to see his face again.

You return to work on Wednesday, and the second you step through the school gates, Gojo stands there waiting for you. His hair was fluffed up as his blindfold was pulled over his eyes, but you could tell his gaze was locked on you.

“Hey, we need to talk.” He tried speaking to you, but you ignored him. “Sweetheart, please just listen to me.”

“I have work to do, excuse me.”

The entire day, Gojo kept bugging you and begging for you to stop to listen to what he had to say. Whatever excuses he had come up with, he could shove them up his ass. He had left you without any explanation at all. So he didn’t deserve your time of day.

You finally found some peace when he was forced to teach the first years for his class. As he left, he pleaded for you to set some time aside so that you could talk things out later. There was no way in hell you were going to sit there and listen to whatever bullshit excuse he came up with. You couldn’t, not when you had been told what kind of person he was, and against your better judgment, you went through with sleeping with him.

Before you could find yourself in another stupor, the door to your classroom opened, and Yaga stepped inside. The higher-ups had requested your assistance with a curse downtown. Specifically, they asked for both you and Gojo to assist. He was preoccupied with his students, so you decided this was easy to handle.

Instead of waiting to talk to him personally about taking on this mission on your own, you did exactly what he had done to you days prior: left without saying a word. You grabbed your shit and walked out the door; being courteous enough, you left a note behind on your desk. It also colorfully told him you had nothing to say about sleeping together.

Your words described how you thought he was different, how you had assumed there was more than just a one-night stand between you, but he had other ideas. At the end of your note, you wished him a long and happy life; there was nothing more to say after that. Writing that note allowed you to get all of your frustration, everything, off your chest without actually saying it to his face.

With the note behind you, you had one of the assistant supervisors drive you to the location of an abandoned building. Luckily, with the curse inside, you didn't have to lower a veil. This was, hopefully, going to be a simple in-and-out mission. At Least, you thought it would be.

Stepping inside the building, you automatically sensed the presence of the curse. One that was a grade four curse, making it super easy to take out. You honestly did it in record-breaking time, but it wasn’t the curse you had to worry about.

The curse user watching you the entire time you fought against his little monster charged you the instant his curse spirit dissipated. He pinned you to the ground, his hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing down on it. You choked, kicking your feet underneath him; your talisman paper was just out of reach; your fingers grazed over it, but you couldn’t grasp it. The man above you looked at you with dark black eyes, determined to kill you.

“I worked so hard to train that curse!” the man shouted as you gurgled on your saliva. “Then you come in here and just destroy it?! How are you any better than they are?!”

Your nails dug into the flesh of his hands, yanking and pulling at his fingers, trying to free yourself as your shoes slid against the dirty floor. Black spots began to appear in your vision; you were so close to passing out. Maybe you should have waited for Satoru. He may have been an asshole but at least he would’ve had your back.

“You sorcerers all deserve to die!”

Help me.

“Die and rot in hell when you belong!”

Please, someone, anyone!

“You deser—”

A flash of red floods the room as the man is sent flying through a wall, well, several walls, finally freeing you from his grip. You curl in on yourself, coughing and gulping down air. You don’t even have a chance to fully recover before you’re scooped up into arms, arms that had held you several nights before. Gojo says nothing as he carries you out of the room you had almost lost your life in.

Silence remains thick until he takes you outside and sits you on the concrete stairs leading to the alleyway. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” The urge to run away is as strong as your need to take deep breaths. There was no point in running now, especially after Gojo had saved your life.

He returned several minutes later, waving at the assistant supervisor's black car. His hands are shoved into his pockets as he watches the car turn the corner before he turns in your direction. His blindfold is still entirely on hiding his eyes from you. But just like this morning, you can feel his gaze locked solely on you.

“We got ten minutes before the cops show up.” You give him a thumbs up, winning a frustrated sigh back. “I got your note.”

“Good.” Your voice cracks as you try to clear your throat.

“No, it’s not good.” He snaps, stomping towards you, crouching down in front of you. “You honestly think I didn’t feel anything that night? That was just a one-night stand?”

“You left!” You cough roughly. “You left without a word, Gojo! What else am I supposed to think? To me, you leaving without a word is pretty plain and clear.”

A large hand cups your face, holding it gently. “Yaga called me in for an emergency. I was needed at the Kyoto school that morning.” You blinked back tears. “And I was going to call you, but I left my phone at the bar because I was so excited to be with you finally.” His head dropped forward with a heavy sigh. “But the more that I think about it, the more that’s like a shitty excuse. I should’ve woken you up before I left, but you looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to. I should’ve known and done better. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

“Yeah, you should have asshole,” you sigh, “ at least you have another cherry under your belt.”

“I don’t just want you to be another girl in the notch of my belt!” His hand tightens around your face. “ I know I fucked up. I didn’t get to truly talk to you and tell you how I feel about you.” Your eyes met his. “This isn’t an ideal situation either, having just saved your life, and I almost killed that man.” He yanks his blindfold down, revealing his blue eyes to you. Eyes that are solely focused on you. “This is a terrible time to tell you that I love you; I love you so damn much.”

For the second time today, you find it hard to breathe. Your eyes widen in shock as Satoru stares at you, waiting for you to respond to his confession. If he had told you this several days ago before he had left without a word, you would’ve been over the moon. Now, you weren’t sure how to react. Part of you was still happy that he felt that way, but he left without a word; he should have handled things differently. That was in the past, though there was no point in crying over something that had already happened.

Deep inside your heart, you knew how you felt regardless of what had happened days before.

“I love you too, you idiot.” The white-haired man before you perks up, grinning wide. “But I’m still pissed off. You owe me big time for leaving me after popping my cherry dick.”

“Baby, I’ll do anything you ask, anything.” His hands are gripping yours, planting kisses against the back of them.

“I want you to take me on a date. A real date with food and dessert.”

He smiled softly, his dimple visible as he planted another kiss on your hand. “Dinner and dessert, I can handle that.” He helps you stand, ushering you forward, his hand in yours. “I could sweeten the deal. Maybe I could make you cum on my tongue all night? You don’t even have to worry about me. Just let me worship you if you want.” While his offer is tempting, you lean against him.

“Honestly, I’d rather go on a date and have mind-blowing sex like the other night, just without you leaving me.”

“I can do that too.”

Satoru is true to his word; he takes you to the nicest restaurant he knows. Buys you a bottle of champagne, orders a five-course meal, and every dessert on the menu. After your wonderful first date, he takes you back to his apartment and makes sweet love to you all night. He had you arching, gasping, and clawing at his back for the second time in your life.

The following day, you wake up finding him missing again. The bedroom door opens before you can grab your phone to see where he is. Satoru comes in with a massive tray of food. Mixed berries, coffee, pancakes, and eggs and bacon. He sits on the bed beside you, setting the tray between you.

“Good morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?” He offers you a steaming cup of coffee that you gladly take,

“I slept great.” You lean over kissing his lips softly.

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hannieehaee · 7 months ago

Text

OUTTA MY MIND

18+ / mdi

summary: getting a brand new job as a senior idol's manager was scary enough on its own, but it became even worse when said idol was jeon jungkook, idol of all idols. what made it even worse? when jungkook began taking a special liking to you, damning any conflict of interest his crush on you may have had.

content: idol!au, staff!reader x idol!jungkook, jungkook is shameless about his crush on reader, but it's fine bc reader likes him back!!, reader acts hard to get bc her job is too important though boo, afab reader, banter, jk is a flirt, reader is a little bit shy, a lot of rlly wrong info about working in the industry, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 7.7k

a/n: my first jungkook solo writing!! i hope u guys enjoy<33 ive been into bts since 2017 idk why i never wrote about them before lol anyways hope this is a good introduction to all my future jungkook works<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Whenever you'd tell someone you worked within the entertainment industry, – the music industry, to be precise – people always showed a little extra interest in your words, probably assuming you to be involved in the flashier aspects of it. The statement on it's own sounded exciting, enigmatic even. This would only then be followed by disappointed upon finding out your specific profession of choice, deeming it less exciting than most.

You were a manager. No, you were not an active member of the entertainment industry itself, but you were one of the many pillars necessary for the talent to create the entertainment people would always seek.

Being as young as you were, it had been hard to get to where you were so quickly. Networking had been your best friend all throughout your career, eventually landing you in your current role – one that would only open even more doors for you.

It had only been a week since you had received a call from your friend – an old friend from an internship who just so happened to be a former Hybe video producer – letting you know of a recent opening as one of the many managers at the company. Having been between gigs at the time, you jumped at the chance without a second thought. Hybe? The biggest entertainment company in Korea? You didn't need any details before agreeing.

It was a few days later in which you found out the details. The opportunity had been even more life-altering than you'd thought.

Originally, you had believed you'd end up becoming manager to one of the many brand new rookie groups in the growing company. With so many surging youth in the industry, it made sense to you that you'd be assigned such a role, not having had any prior experience within Hybe itself.

Except that wasn't the case. Having previously worked and interned at a few other South Korean entertainment companies through the years, it seemed like Hybe deemed you experienced enough to assign you the role of becoming a senior artist's manager.

Jeon Jungkook.

Senior artist had been an understatement. Those had been the words written in your contract, explaining your role in excruciating detail, yet failing to mention that your client would be Korea's most popular singer.

You couldn't lie, you were insanely intimidated by your new role. Despite being proudly skilled at your job, becoming the manager of an idol who had been in the game for longer than you'd even been out of college was a bit scary. Jungkook had gone from the absolute bottom to the top, he had most likely lived through it all by now – what kind of expertise could you offer someone who had already seen it all?

Being manager of an idol differed slightly from managing any other person. Idol companies usually handled the schedulings, bookings, and the legalities of their artists. As a manager, you somewhat took the role of a bodyguard. You were meant to show up everywhere Jungkook went and become his spokesperson – vying for him as if your life depended on it.

And now it was too late to back out – not that you actually wanted to. All paperwork had been signed, you had your own personal Hybe badge and all the benefits that came along with working at the company. Any feelings of intimidation or fear for the role would have to be put aside as you walked into the Hybe building to meet with your new client; the boy you'd have to stick by 24/7 from now on.

You weren't sure what you were expecting upon meeting him. It wasn't like there would be any special introduction, or even as if you were his sole manager; no, he actually had a few others who would occasionally aid him in the absence of his main manager, which was now you. Today was a workday for him, meaning that he likely already had a few people in supportive roles as he did whatever it was that Jeon Jungkook did while working.

Walking into the huge building, after getting lost a few times, you made your way to the seventh floor, which, as you'd been informed, had various rooms designated for photoshoots. That's where you'd find Jungkook for the first time, presumably having one of the many shoots scheduled for this week.

Having possession of his schedule made you realize how busy idol life was. Despite having no public schedules all this week, he had a packed itinerary, filled with either shoots or signings or producing sessions. You hadn't even met him yet, but you were already assured that he was overly hardworking – and you had maybe also stalked him online this past week.

It was very unlikely you'd even speak to him, seeing how busy he was. Your duty, after all, was just to be one of the many members of his team, taking care of any logistics as you went around with him, but not taking away from his time by socializing with him.

Upon entering the room, he was the first thing you noticed. Ignoring every other person working the room, your eyes focused specifically on him. It was hard not to, since he was quite literally standing under the spotlight, modeling for a camera. But it was more than that. He had an aura that filled up the room. Putting aside every stylist and photographer in the room, every staff member and intern, he was truly the epitome of main character.

Fuck. Was this going to cause trouble?

Admittedly, you had found him attractive all previous times you'd come across the name Jeon Jungkook whilst working in this industry, but that attraction did not go further than seeing it as an objective fact. You had never had any interest in artists outside of for work-related reasons, so you only knew him by name. Yet now, seeing him in person, it was a while other story.

It wasn't until the director gave Jungkook the green light to take a break that you first made eye contact with the boy. It appeared as if he had also noticed you immediately upon your entrance, as his eyes had gone straight from the camera onto yours. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on your part.

To your absolute surprise, his eyes stayed on you, lighting up when he realized you were staring back at him. Even more surprisingly, that's when he began walking towards you, a bright smile on his face as he approached you.

"Hey! You must be Y/N! It's really nice to meet you," he bowed at you when he reached you, bunny teeth still sticking out in a smile.

"Oh, I- Thank you! It's nice to meet you too, Jungkook," you managed to get out, bowing awkwardly. You were surprised at him even knowing your name. Was he on a first name basis with his staff? That was crazy to imagine considering how many people he must work with on a daily basis.

"Today's your first day, right?"

"Yeah, hah, is it that obvious?", for some reason you were at a loss of words, not having expected to even speak to Jungkook at all today.

His eyes widened as his head shook in negation, almost as if he believed to have genuinely insulted you by assuming it was your first day.

"Not at all! I know it might look kind of hectic, but I swear you get used to it pretty quick," he assured, giving a quick once-over to his surroundings.

Your eyes left him in favor of eyeing the room, noticing how everyone continued to work on separate tasks as Jungkook spoke to you. Too many tasks were being performed all at once, yet there was some sort of synergy to it all. It seemed far too fast paced for you, but Jungkook seemed to get the rhythm of it all by now.

"Has anyone given you a tour yet?" he asked, making your eyes go back to him.

"Oh, no. But it's fine. I only got lost a few times on the way here. I'll get used to it," you reassured. You had been given an overall overview of the premises, but you were yet to explore the entirety of the place. It was likely unnecessary, considering the size of the building.

Jungkook's eyes widened once again. Jesus, his eyes were gigantic. He seemed shocked at no one having taken the time to show you around.

"What? No tour?? I can't have that. I'll have to take you in one after this."

"What- No! It's fine, Jungkook. I'm sure you have more pressing things to get to. I mean, I have your schedule, I know you have a packed day. I'll just-"

"None of that. I have more control over my schedule than it might seem," he chuckled, "so you don't have to worry about that. It'll be a nice way for us to get to know each other."

The following five minutes or so were taken up by your consistent, yet polite, refusal to his offer, not wanting the talent himself to feel like he had to work his schedule around you. These refusals were met by even more insistence. He was overly charismatic and likable (on top of extremely cute), so it was a lost battle from the start. There was no way you could deny him in the end.

His break ended soon after, forcing his conversation with you to be interrupted. With an exaggerated groan and a lighthearted eye roll, the boy went back to posing, sending you a friendly wink when he was finally back in action in front of the camera.

As a true professional, he got back in the zone very quickly, taking on the form of a model as he followed the director's directions to a T. You continued watching him from afar, easily getting entranced by how good he was at his job. Being too distracted by him (as he kept sneaking glances towards you), you almost forgot to make the rounds around the room and introduce yourself to his other staff.

After about twenty minutes or so of conversing with his other staff (who all had nothing but positive things to say about the boy), things began to quiet down. The director announced that he had everything he needed and things began to get packed up as people left one by one. As everyone left, Jungkook made sure to express his gratitude to each team involved, even personally bidding goodbye to some staff he seemed a bit more familiar with. By the end of it, only a few people were left as Jungkook finally approached you.

Once again, the boyish smile was on his face, almost as if he specifically excited to talk to you. But that was just wishful thinking.

"So, about that tour?"

"You really don't have to-"

"Are we really gonna go over this again?", he groaned humorously, "Please let me show you around. It's the least I can do if I'm gonna make you attend all my schedules," he insisted once more.

"Fine, okay. You wore me down, Jungkook."

With a kiddish yet sarcastic fist bump to the sky in victory, Jungkook gestured for you to follow him and began leading the way out of the room, ready to show you the building.

"So, how are you liking Hybe?", he asked after a while of walking around the endless building.

Jungkook was a great guide. He was extremely talkative, so no question was left unanswered. Even before you were able to inquire about certain part of the building, he was already giving you a response, even being able to start a brand new subject of conversation every time.

"Well, it's kinda my first day. But it's nice. Just, uh, maybe a little intimidating," you admitted, walking side by side with the boy.

"Intimidating? Is it cause of me?", he tilted his head to the side with curiosity.

"Maybe," you winced, hoping he didn't take it to heart. You knew it must've been annoying for people to put him in a pedestal, but it was kind of hard not to, especially upon barely meeting him.

"It's okay. I'm not as intimidating as my fame may make me seem. Most people think I'm pretty nice, actually-"

"No, it's not like that! I know you're nice, I, uh, I looked you up before accepting the job. It's just," you paused to gesture at your surroundings, "I've never worked at such a huge company, managing one of the biggest artists in the country. I ... I don't wanna mess it up," you admitted.

He slowed down his walking at this, turning to face you better as both your movements lessened in speed.

"You won't trust me. I, uh, I actually chose you specifically. You know, to be my manager."

That took you by surprise.

Jungkook knew who you were? He picked you? It's not like you had anything to your name, just a few managing gigs here and there, along with endless internships from your school years. Why would he have picked you from what you assumed must've been a pool of tenured professionals at this?

"What do you mean you picked me? Did you-"

He shrugged, the speed of his steps still slow as he focused more on conversing with you, tour of the company fully put aside.

"They asked me for my input, since, you know, we're gonna be spending a lot of time together. I saw you on the list. You were my age and your cover letter made you sound so sincere and excited," he explained, "You were also pretty cute ...", he muttered in a cough before continuing, "I just wanted someone I could be friends with. And I think I made the right choice."

You chuckled, "Yeah? How can you be so sure?"

"I can tell that you like me," he grinned, "We're gonna be besties in no time."

His hand bumped yours as he said this, lightheartedly making contact with you. It was hard to gauge whether he was just overly charismatic or if he had been genuinely hitting on you all this time. All you knew was that if he kept it up, you'd probably end up actually falling for him.

Humoring him, you absentmindedly bumped your hand into his own too, rolling your eyes jokingly as he grinned even bigger at you.

Yeah, you were going to get close in no tome.

It had been two months. Two months since you started your job. Two months since you met Jungkook. Two months since you'd been right – you did fall for Jungkook.

It wasn't as dramatic as it sounded. You were pretty sure this was just an innocent crush. One that most people in Jungkook's vicinity probably had to battle on a day to day basis.

Innocent civilians could not be blamed for the natural effect Jeon Jungkook just had on people. He was handsome, funny, charming, and he was also a flirt. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like he reserved that last trait for you and you only.

Through the weeks, Jungkook was not shy to show his special interest in you. He'd seek you out constantly, always making you stick to his side – which was your job, but still! There was always a sense of something more behind his actions. As he had said, you two became friends quickly, but just as quickly, you had become one of the closest people to him within his staff.

He'd make conversation with you, constantly migrating to your side the moment he got a short break from whichever schedule you were currently at. He'd go as far as interrupting your work just for some of your attention. In short, he was driving you insane.

Walking far too close to you in the hallways, he'd question "Where to next?", with a smile, walking side by side with you while putting his entire attention on you.

And now, you were currently overseas with Jungkook, accompanying him for some solo recordings while the rest of his members worked on their own stuff. It was a small team of people, which was quite unusual for a member of the biggest group in the world. Since it was an unofficial schedule that only Jungkook would be attending to, only the closest members of his team were really necessary. This meant you and a few others.

The situation had started off pretty much okay. One of the requirements for your position had been to become a translator for Jungkook in any situation he ever needed. That had been unnecessary so far, as you had been in Jungkook's home country these past few weeks of work. Now that you were in America, however, Jungkook sought you out even more, claiming you must attend to every outing with him in order to help him in case he needed a better understanding.

You didn't know Jungkook too well yet, but, you were aware that after so many years in the industry, he knew enough English to get by. This was simply yet another excuse of his to keep you close. When you lightheartedly confronted him about this, his response was to stare down at you with his gigantic doe eyes and pretend as if he had no idea what you were talking about.

"English? What's that?" his head had tilted to the side, cutely feigning confusion and giggling when you broke out into an annoyed smile.

On top of joining him any time he went out for leisure (under the false vice of translating), he had also insisted you accompany him to the occasional dance practice he'd attend while in America. Your presence in this instance was completely unnecessary, but you still did not question it. Nor did you question why you were the only person he insisted on bringing along. His other managers? Nowhere to be found. As time passed by in Los Angeles, less and less people would accompany you and Jungkook on his outings – whether they be for leisure or work. It had now fallen down to Jungkook, his bodyguard, and you.

"C'mon, don't you want to see me dance? I'll buy you a meal afterwards, pinky promise," he'd hold his pinky up to you with a boyish smile, knowing you wouldn't deny him.

Anytime Jungkook would discreetly hit on you or fluster you with his attention, you'd simply laugh it off or play into it just the right amount. It wasn't like you didn't enjoy it. His decided infatuation with you gave you butterflies that had you kicking your blanket late at night when you'd think back to how much he must've liked you.

You were entirely aware that he knew you liked him back also. You never said it, nor did you ever return his flirting, but you knew that he knew. Any rebuttals or instances in which you told him to chill (jokingly, of course) were just covers you'd put up. The nerves about actually acknowledging his feelings always stopped you in your tracks, leaving you the lone option of just giggling along to him or rolling your eyes (depending how cheesy he was being).

Jungkook loved your back and forth, you could tell. He enjoyed when you'd jokingly tell him off for his sickly flirtatious demeanor or when you'd simply banter with him. It was likely just a motivator for him to keep going, naturally knocking down your walls one by one as time passed.

The camel's back had broken one week after your arrival in LA, when Jungkook finally decided to take things further, now inviting you over to his hotel room after what were assumed to be work hours. The excuse? He wanted to go over next week's schedule. Both you and him were fully aware he simply wanted to hang out, but the lines were beginning to blur.

"Hey," he welcomed you with a smile when you came knocking on his door, leaning against the frame before gesturing at you to come in.

"Hi, Kook," you walked in, unsure of what to do after making it past his door.

"You can take a seat while I get us some drinks," he gestured to the hotel room couch and walked over to the mini fridge in the living room.

"Drinks? Thought we were debriefing next week's schedule?", you asked with a teasing tone, reclining back into the couch.

"Oh, yeah, the schedule, for sure," he responded in a completely unserious manner.

Approaching you again with drinks in hand, he sat on the same couch as you, leaving a small distance between the two of you to create a more casual environment.

Handing you your drink, he chuckled before even being able to speak.

"Have I been obvious enough or should I try harder?", he asked, sipping his beer.

"Jungkook ..."

"C'mon, it's been a few months. You already know I like you, right? You have to know by now. Are you really not gonna reciprocate at all?", he pouted, "I know you like me back."

"What makes you so confident?"

"You haven't once told me to fuck off," he grinned, leaning back against the couch in complete relaxation.

"I can't do that, I work for you," you rebutted.

"Hah! Please, I know that wouldn't stop you. You might've been a little shy when we first met, but I know by now you would've told me to get fucked if you weren't interested."

He had a point. There had been a few instances in which you did, quite literally, tell him to get fucked. It was always in jest, of course, but you knew that if you ever turned down his flirting, he'd tone it down without question.

Of course you never wanted his flirting to stop. You had found a new source of energy within yourself any time Jungkook would shamelessly shower you with attention. Despite being discrete about it, never being direct with his flirting, he still gave you the same undivided attention any boy with a crush would. It made you feel giddy and wanted. Yet it also made you worry for what may come of acknowledging his interest further than you already had.

You laughed along with him and entertained his banter for a while, following along with his flirting as the two of you drank with one another, eventually arriving to a tipsy state. He drank like a sailor while you only nursed a few drinks, yet somehow reaching a similar level of drunk.

"Are you ever gonna answer my question? I already know the answer, I just want to hear it from you," his original question in regard to your feelings did not circle back until now, catching you off guard yet again.

"Jungkook ..."

He scoot closer to you, "Come on, it's just us. You know what they say – acceptance is the first step."

"If you already know I like you, why do you keep asking?", you groaned, taking yet another swing of your third drink of the night.

"Aha! You do like me," he pointed at you as if he had made the grand discovery.

"Jungkook!"

Raising his hands, he relented, "Sorry, sorry. I'm just excited to hear it. Can you blame me? I've been trying to get you to flirt back for months."

"I don't have the same liberties as you, I'm your subordinate, it'd be inappro-"

"Inappropriate? Not any more inappropriate than me hitting on you every day since we met."

"Inappropriate, exactly," you scoot further away, "which is why you should stop."

He scoot closer again, this time even more so.

"I like you, you like me. Why should either of us stop?"

"I work for you. Yeah, you can flirt with me, but-"

"But what? Come on, don't reject me before I've even asked you out. At least let me have that much," he insisted, knowing he was wearing your false rejection down.

You sighed, twisting your body so you'd now be facing him fully on the couch, "Okay, fine. Go ahead."

He twisted too, now fully facing you. He took a deep breath and put down his drink, "Let me take you on a date? Please?", he pleaded with a shy smile.

"Can I say no?"

"I mean, you can, but I'll just keep insisting," he giggled, making you groan exaggeratedly.

With a fake sigh of defeat, you accepted, "Fine. You can take me out. But if you're as annoying as you were today, then I don't think it's going to work out."

"Yah! I'll be the perfect gentleman. Just you wait."

After a few more drinks, Jungkook insisted on walking you back to your room, – despite the fact that it was just next door – sheepishly asking if he could kiss your cheek goodnight, to which you responded with a kiss on his cheek of your own and a hug goodbye. Through your peephole you could see a very adorable Jungkook scrunch up his nose and smile to himself in contentment at the night's outcome.

Going to sleep with this insane sense of giddiness had been almost impossible. Your mind kept going back to the pretty boy who had insisted yet and yet again for the chance to simply go out with you. The back and forth this past few months had wore you down immensely, and last night had just thoroughly hammered you in.

You weren't entirely sure of the logistics of the date just yet. How were you to go out with Jungkook when he was so insanely popular? People were already aware of his current stay in Los Angeles, as he had been spotted a few times. They were also aware of your presence, though people already knew of your role and had grown accustomed to seeing you with Jungkook without questioning it.

Going to any usual dating spot with him alone would still prove catastrophic, however. Even if people knew you were nothing more than a manager, a one-on-one outing at a place usually meant for couples would be an instant giveaway, so it was entirely out of the question.

Surely the hopeless romantic that was Jungkook already had something planned, so you likely didn't have to worry your head over it. For now, you could simply wait for Jungkook's next unpredictable act of affection towards you with a racing heart.

The following day, you found yourself waking up earlier than usual, having been awoken by incessant knocking on your door that you had not expected. It was 9AM, so not too early, but today was meant to be a day off for everyone on Jungkook's team, including him. It was obvious to you who could be the culprit behind the knocking, but it didn't make it any less strange, especially considering Jungkook never had a tendency of waking up early unless it was for work.

Marching to your door in annoyance, you swung it open without any need to check who was on the other side, knowing you'd encounter the same doe-eyed boy you had kissed goodnight just a few hours ago.

"Jungkook, what the hell are you doing here so early?", were the first words out of your mouth.

He was already fully dressed, donning his usual black attire and carrying two drinks from what you knew was a local coffee shop – with one of them being your drink of choice, because of course Jungkook would have it memorized.

He grinned at you, placing your drink on your hand and smiling even harder when you sipped it.

"Just wanted to make sure you hadn't changed your mind about the date," he wasn't actually here for that reason, obviously, but it was still cute of him to use it as an excuse.

"And if I have?"

"Don't say that, I'll cry."

You laughed, leaning against your door as you sipped your drink once more, "So, have you decided what we're doing?"

He shook his head, "Nope, can't tell you. That's top secret. All you can know is that you should be ready tonight at 7 sharp and to wear something nice but comfortable," he blushed a little before continuing, "maybe that pretty sundress you wore the other day?", his eyes left you to shyly look at his shoes for a moment.

Fuck, he was far too cute.

You pretended to ponder for a bit before agreeing, "Okay. I think I can manage that."

Letting out a tiny little "yes!", he looked to you again, noticing your pajamas, "I'll let you sleep in since I kinda kept you up all night, but I'll be back, okay? You can keep your expectations as high as you want, I'll meet them all," he said confidently.

"Oh? Okay, let's see if you can swoon me then," you accepted the challenge before receiving a shy yet short hug goodbye and heading back into your room, aware you'd be unable to go back to sleep with all the anticipation you felt for your date.

Things had already changed drastically between you and Jungkook and it had only been a few hours since his official confession about his crush (along with your reciprocation). He was touchier and more open with his affections, even becoming a little sheepish now in contrast to how bold he used to be. Now that the cards were all on the table, it was harder to even look at each other without blushing. It felt like a giddy high school crush, and you were already enjoying it far too much.

"Fuck, you look gorgeous," Jungkook breathed out the second you opened your door, "Sorry, was that too much?," he chuckled sheepishly afterwards.

Ignoring the blush threatening your cheeks, you shook your head and smiled, "Thank you, Kook. You look ... you look really handsome," you went on a whim and placed your hands on his jacket, enjoying his own shy smile at your compliment.

You made small talk as you walked down to take Jungkook's private car, sitting side by side in the back as the driver took off.

"So, where are you taking me?", you asked again.

He tsk'd, "No patience in that head of yours, huh? Relax. It's private and comfortable. You'll have fun, I promise. Just let me surprise you."

"Fine," you sighed in feigned annoyance, leaning back into your seat. Jungkook followed and leaned back also, face turned to stare at you.

"Would it be too forward to say I already want to take you home?", he asked.

"Stop," you groaned, "Don't say that, you already wore me down into going on a date, give me time to breathe."

"Are you saying I could wear you down into letting me take you home?", he smiled.

"Anyways," you rolled your eyes, making him chuckle.

The rest of the ride was filled by your usual banter, making the date entirely too casual thus far. It felt like a regular outing with a friend, plus the added butterflies you felt any time his eyes would scrunch up whenever you made him laugh. How handsome he looked also did not help matters. He had changed out of the casual clothes he had on this morning, opting for a casual yet elegant look that consisted of his usual chunky boots and a black blazer. It was very much a usual look for him but he somehow looked extra good tonight.

Fastforward to the date itself and you found yourself in what was supposed to be a private restaurant A-listers in LA would frequent. It allowed for the utmost privacy and served the most famous of people. The atmosphere of the place was casual enough for you to be able to sit yourselves, but it was still packed with security and high-end waiters making the rounds. Being there as a mere manager felt almost illegal.

Jungkook held your hand as he guided you to a secluded booth in the back, opting to sit next to you rather than across you, something you found really cute of him.

"Do you like it?", he asked after a few moments of sitting.

You nodded, "Do I even wanna know how much this place costs?", you asked as you took in your surroundings.

"Yeah, no," he laughed, "Don't think about that. It's all on me. You being here is more than enough," he reassured, reaching over to take your menu before you could get to it, "I'll cover the prices, okay? I want you to order anything you want."

Cute, handsome, funny, into you, and also such a gentleman? You were not to survive even the first date.

"Order for me?", you suggested, knowing he was a foodie at heart and would likely order the perfect meal for you.

And he did. Unsurprisingly to everyone, he picked the perfect meal and side dishes and drinks and even desserts. The meal was amazing and completely relaxed. The conversation was never-ending, allowing for no awkward lulls or forced small talk. Jungkook had been right all those months ago, you did become very good friends. It made you wonder if he had liked you from all the way back then.

"What are you looking for in a relationship?", asked Jungkook after a few drinks, already cozied up with you in the booth.

"That's very forward for only two bottles of soju," you joked.

"C'mon, you can tell me. I won't tell," he whispered childishly, leaning closer to you with genuine interest in his eyes.

You straightened up before responding, "I guess I want something serious. No hookups or anything like that, just ... just someone nice to spend my time with."

"Hey, that's kind of what I am already, huh? I'm nice and we spend most of our time together."

You chuckled, taking a swing of your drink before returning the question, "What about you? What are you looking for in a relationship?"

"You," he deadpanned, giving you a dopey smile.

You couldn't help giggle at that, scrunching up your face at how much of a flirt he was.

He grabbed onto your chin and made you look at him, completely halting your laugher, "I'm serious," he started, "I've been wanting to ask you out since forever, but I knew I'd be putting you in an awkward position with your job. But I don't care about that anymore. I know you like me, and I like you – so fucking bad. Give it a chance? Please?", he pleaded as he stared down at you, eyes fleeting to your lips for one quick moment.

Your breath caught in your throat, making you freeze and gulp before being able to respond to the confession you'd been expecting, yet were not prepared for.

"Jungkook ... Take me home?"

"F-fuck," he groaned, "do you know how long I waited to have you?", his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses in his wake, "thought about this every day ... How pretty you'd look pressed up against me ... So fucking pretty," he panted.

Jungkook had dragged you off the booth the moment you suggested for a change of scenery, directing the driver to get the two of you to the hotel as soon as possible. Once at the hotel, Jungkook rushed you to your floor, having already had to hold back during the entirety of the drive back. Even in the elevator, your usually lighthearted Jungkook was missing and replaced by an agitated version of him.

The first thing he did upon unlocking the door to his room as push you against it, closing it back up in the process and liberally letting his lips trail down your neck.

"Kook ..."

"Have I ever told you how much I love the way you say my name? God, just everything about you," he trailed his way back up, hands still on your waist and fingers digging into your skin.

His lips leaned down into yours, almost kissing you but not yet, "I know it's kinda late to ask, but can I kiss you?", he whispered.

Your nod was nothing short of desperate, lips almost chasing his won before he finally connected them to yours.

His kiss was as soft as his hold on your waist, and the sigh he let out against your lips was only a ghost of the passion he felt for you. His lips guided your own, with his tongue licking your mouth open and invading it in a sensual entanglement between your tongues.

It was hard to think clearly with the pretty moans he let out against your lips, almost as if you were gifting him the utmost pleasure with the mere touch of your lips. Hands became braver and breaths became heavier, leading to a mess of ruffling clothes and gasps filling up the silence of the room. You melded into each other, refusing to let your lips separate nor prevent your hands from exploring one another. His hands made it under the skirt of your dress, liberal in the way he felt up your add and pressed you up against him. In the meantime your hands threw off his blazer and began unbuttoning his shirt, feeling up his strong chest in the process.

"Let me take you to my room? Fuck, I- I can't think. Just wanna have you so fucking bad," he mumbled into your lips, groaning when you refused to stop kissing him as he spoke.

You nodded, not trusting your voice and allowing him to guide you to his room by the hand.

Once in his room, he laid you down softly, letting you sit up as he took off his remaining clothes, eyes encouraging you to do the same. His eyes widened when he realized what you'd been wearing under the dress he'd requested, clearly caught off guard by the pretty set you had chosen for him.

It wasn't all that, simply a matching lacy bra and panties that you'd packed before coming to LA. Clearly Jungkook didn't care about the quality of the set, or at least that's the impression his eyes gave you as they stayed glued to your chest, halting his movements as he took his shoes off.

"Oh ...", he breathed before making his way to you on the bed, "For me?", he asked as his hand went down to lightly run his fingers across the strap.

"Mhm," you nodded, getting up from the bed and putting your hand on his shoulders, eyeing up his toned chest and tracing his tattoos, "Do you like it?", you looked up and made eyes at him.

"Fuck, don't do that. You can't look like that and then look at me like that and think I won't fucking burst," he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist once again, "Can I touch you, pretty? Hmm?"

Nodding again, you led his hands to your breasts, letting out a breath when his hands began feeling you up, going from your breasts to your hips to your ass while his mouth made its way back to yours. He freely moaned into your mouth at the feeling of your body under his hands, walking you back onto the bed and lying you down once more.

His hands were hesitant in reaching the clasp of your bra, to which you responded by humming a soft 'please' into his lips. The removal of your bra caused him to pull away for you as his eyes got a fill of you, groaning yet again at the sight. His hands went to your breasts again, feeling them up as his lips trailed down to your tits. Jungkook's groans of pleasure at the feeling of your bare skin against his lips were never-ending. You fed into it, arching against his lips and running your hands through his hair. It wasn't like he needed any encouragement; his eyes told you of every bit of lust he felt.

"I want you so fucking bad," he murmured against your tits, "I can't even think ... Just want you so bad. Haven't been able to stop thinking about you for months," his lips suckled at your nipple once more before reaching your ear, breathing heavily against it, "Tell me I can fuck you, please. Just need- need you so fucking bad."

Pulling him to your lips by the his hair, you moaned your desire for him into his mouth, pleading at him to get on with it.

"Fuck me. How do you want me? I'll- Fuck, just-"

"I know, pretty. I'll take care of it, okay? Just ... Want you just like this. Wanna see you while I fuck you, okay? Let me-", his hands reached to your panties, seemingly meaning to finger you before you stopped him.

"No, Jungkook, just fuck me. Please? I'm wet enough, I swear. Just need you. Now," you pleaded at him.

He shook his head, tutting at you, "Baby, at least let me eat you out? Gotta stretch you out a little. Swear I wanna fuck you so fucking bad, but shit ... Need to taste you," he rambled before getting on his knees, pulling your legs apart and towards the edge of the bed.

"Fuck ... Always wanted to kiss up these thighs," he breathed as he ran his nose up and down the sensitive skin, leaving a few airy kisses along the length of them, "So soft and pretty."

Slowly yet sensually, he made his way to your cunt, pressing his nose against your panty-covered pussy and taking a deep breath, shamelessly capturing your essence. Ignoring your scandalous whine, he pushed your panties aside and stuck his tongue inside, groaning at the taste of you.

"Baby ... Fuck, how am I ever gonna function without this pretty pussy ever again?", he murmured into you, tongue digging deep inside you as he took turns sucking and licking at you. His nose made an appearance eventually, rubbing deliciously against your clit while your hands pulled at his hair, pushing your hips up against his face.

"Yes, fuck, keep grinding on my face, baby. Use me," he pleaded, almost crying into your cunt.

Jungkook was already an expert in your pleasure, damning everything else in favor of optimizing your pleasure in every way. He let you pull at his hair and grind on his face, somehow never running out of breath as he ate you out with a desperation that had your nails digging far too harshly into his hair – something that had him moaning against you.

Once finished, he licked up every drop of your essence, humming in pleasure at the taste and even coming up to let you suck on his tongue, sharing your own honey with you.

"Kook ... Fuck me. God, I need- need you so bad. Please," you pleaded into his mouth despite not pulling away from his kiss.

"Fuck, okay, yeah. I- I'll fuck you," he finally pulled away and pulled down his boxers, reaching over to his pants on the floor to get a condom from his wallet.

"Oh? You were ready for this?" you grinned at him mockingly.

"Baby," he whined, letting his head fall to your chest in bashfulness, "Don't do this right now. Just let me make you feel good. You can make fun of me all you want after."

"Okay, Kookie. Now, hurry up!", you reached down to his ass, squeezing it jokingly as he let out a scandalized noise and lightly nibbled at your tit in retaliation.

Finally, he put on the condom as you slipped off your panties all the way and throwing them off. He was soft yet shy in his movements as he teased your slit with his cock, playing with the wetness and groaning at the warmth wrapping around the head of his cock. He checked in on you constantly throughout, kissing at your cheek every so often as he bottomed out.

"Feels so good, pretty. Fuck ... gorgeous girl. Knew you were made for me," he groaned, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you closer as he began to thrust.

His words of encouragement didn't end there, letting out every emotion he felt towards you all while you whined his name and raked your nails down his back.

"Always wanted you ... You have no idea how much I like you,"

"Sweetest girl, and all for me ... Oh, fuck- feel so good wrapped around me,"

"You take it so good ... Feel so fucking good and look so fucking pretty. How could I ever resist you?"

"Need you so bad, fuck. Need you every day,"

His praise was never ending, rendering you a mess both physically and emotionally as your feelings for him burst in the form of cries of his name and mumbled reciprocations of his feelings.

"I need you to cum with me, gorgeous. Okay? Let me just- Yeah, right there, huh? That's the spot?", he murmured almost to himself as he lifted you by the legs and began hammering his hips against that one spot deep inside you that had your eyes rolling back. One of his hands eventually joined the mix, thumbing at your clit slowly yet harshly enough to make you gasp at the intensity of the sensation.

"Gonna cum, Kook. Cum with me? P-please?," you cried out for him.

"I'm right there, baby. Just cum with me. Like you so fucking much," he couldn't help but let out yet another expression of his feelings as his orgasm took over him, taking you right along with him.

"Like you t-too. S-so much!", you cried before practically blacking out.

Hips continued to grind against each other as your highs hit you, creating a symphony of skin slapping desperately and high-pitched whines coming from the two of you.

Jungkook almost fell limp against you when his high finally wore down, breathing heavily into your chest before rolling to your side, holding your trembling form against him.

"Was that a good first date?", he asked after catching his breath.

You laughed at the complete change of subject, "Maybe. I'm still expecting you to outdo it for the second one," you turned your body to his own, nuzzling against his chest.

You could feel the vibration of his chest as he chuckled a response, "Oh? I earned a second one?"

"Shut up before I change my mind."

"Yes, ma'am."

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to read short 1.8k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, reunion sex, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 597 (teaser); 1877 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Kook! Stop being so touchy!," you whined when you finally found yourself alone with him.

He ignored you at first, opting to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle his head into your hair with a satisfied hum.

"But why, baby?", he huffed.

He thought he was so cute when he played dumb.

"No one in the staff can know we're dating. It's like you want me to lose my job," you groaned, reciprocating his gesture against your better judgment.

"Baby, I'm your boss, and I have no plans of firing you, so what's the problem?", he ran his nose up and down your neck, breathing you in softly.

"Still. Sleeping with my boss just gives off a bad image."

"Everyone already knows I have a crush on you anyway, what's the harm?", he whined.

"Kookie ...", you groaned.

"Hmm, love when you call me that, baby," he giggled against you, waddling from one side to the other as he walked you over to the wall, pressing you up against it in a surprisingly innocent manner.

After yet another 'subtle' public display of affection he had decided to engage in whilst recording for a new brand deal, you had dragged Jungkook over to an empty dressing room during a break, deciding to put a stop to his behavior before it went too far.

You had only been dating for a few months by now, becoming exclusive almost immediately after that first date. However, despite the exclusivity and the age of your relationship, you had demanded that Jungkook keep it under wraps when it came to work. The only people aware of your relationship could be counted on one hand (maybe two), including his members, family, a few close friends and your own loved ones. Other than that, not even the company was privy to your new relationship.

Unfortunately for you, it seemed like your boyfriend was on a mission to let everyone know about your relationship, always sending you suggestive looks or sticking to you in a manner usually reserved for couples.

Most people in Jungkook's team already knew of his touchy demeanor (and of his very obvious flirtatious tendencies when it came to you), but you knew that you'd be in trouble if you ever reciprocated. Having such a cute boy blatantly show interest in you proved hard, as you had to control yourself in front of everyone else any time he decided to cause trouble for you.

"C'mon, baby. We're alone now. There's no one to see what I wanna do to you," he smirked into your neck, beginning to trail kisses along its length.

His grabby hands stayed on your hips, occasionally sliding up your waist and under your shirt to feel the warmth of your back. Not-so-innocent touches were beginning to arise, making you conflicted since you were technically still in your company's premises at the moment.

Pressing your hands into his chest, you made a lame and effortless attempt at pushing him away, your heart not truly in it as you allowed him to keep his hands on you, "Kook, we're still at work!"

"We're practically done! I did my part, it's just the guys who need to get their shoots done. I could literally disappear right now and no one would notice. It's okay, baby," he reassured, wrapping your hands around his waist and pulling you even closer, lips beginning to ghost your own.

"Kook ..."

"Shhh, just let me kiss you. Been holding back on kissing you all day," and those were his last words before occupying his lips with your own.

...

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#bts imagine #bts x reader #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut

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soft-beams · 9 days ago

Text

you and me (let's make something great)

author's note: so i had an idea, and originally, it was gonna be a ficlet mainly focused on debauchery. BUT THEN my brain decided to turn it into something longer with plot, so here we are. it's very soft in the first bit but don't be fooled, it gets filthy as it progresses. please enjoy!

cw: gp!vi, afab!reader, pregnancy talk, breeding kink, dirty talk, nsfw 🔞 (primarily in the second part)

wc: 3.3k

dividers: @/cafekitsune

part i: let's talk about it

There’s always been talk of starting a family.

Kids with the white picket fence and a garden large enough for them to run around. Maybe a dog or two and a cat because you’ve always spoken about how much you want one. It’d be everything that’s so simple and expected of a family, something so ordinary that it’s almost laughable. But you and Vi never had the opportunity to experience what the ordinary family is.

She grew up an orphan with only her sister by her side, only able to survive due to Vander’s kindness.

You had your own set of problems; a family that didn’t listen or could listen but choose not to.

So to have a family where you can give your children the life you weren’t able to have, that means the whole world and more.

Vi toys around with the idea of asking you again, about the possibility of starting your family as soon as possible. You’ve been together for ten years and married for two, and life has never been as perfect as this.

You’re both doing well at work, bills are being paid on time and there’s even some savings in your joint account. Even savings to potentially look into starting something if that is what you want.

You’re swaying around the kitchen, speakers blasting your playlist as you cook up dinner for tonight. You’ve settled on a simple pasta dish, warm and spicy with delicious herbs. The sauce is bubbling away on the stove and your hips follow the stir of your wooden spoon. You bring the spoon up to your lips, blow gently before having a taste. A hum leaves your lips as your eyes flutter shut, pleased with what you’re creating.

Vi’s enchanted by you and one might call her silly, to be captivated by you merely making dinner. But it’s the mere act of it, the domesticity of it all and how you show your love through everything you do. Even if it’s cooking a dish that you’ve both eaten a hundred times before.

That’s what being in love is and Vi is greedy to share that with someone who’s both her and you.

“Taste this for me?” You ask, facing where she’s sat at the kitchen island. Vi’s quick to hop off her stool and make her way towards you. Her arms encircle you the moment she gets close and your smile brightens at the touch. You lift the spoon up to her lips and even though she knows it’s delicious, Vi goes in for a taste. She mimics your pleased hum from before, swaying you to the slow beat of the song that now plays.

“Babe, you crush it every time,” Vi reveres, causing you to roll your eyes fondly. “How do you do it? Were you a famous chef in your past life or what?”

“It’s pasta sauce,” you respond, voice deadpan but expression vibrant. “The same pasta sauce we’ve been making for five years and can make with our eyes closed.” You turn around in her arms so you can attend to the sauce, Vi taking this opportunity to latch onto your back. She nuzzles into the curve of your neck, pressing a kiss into the sensitive spot there just so she can feel you shiver. “It’s hardly Michelin star worthy.” You pause. “Wait, can dishes be given Michelin stars?”

“Fuck if I know,” Vi murmurs, hooking her chin over your shoulder and settling in. From here, she can see a pot full of water boiling for pasta and the sauce thickening nicely in its pan. “So I want to talk to you about something.”

“We can’t go to the water park next week,” you say, amused. “We’ve had this discussion like six times and as much as I would like to go and hit the wave pool, there’s no—”

The laughter that bursts out of Vi’s mouth is enough to hurt her chest. But it doesn’t stop her from cackling, burying her head into your shoulder in an attempt to muffle how loud she is. She can feel the shaking of your body and hear your lovely laughter as you join her, fully leaning into her chest for support.

“No, you idiot,” Vi manages to say through her chuckles. “Oh fuck you, this was supposed to be a serious thing.”

“Why do you think I said what I said?” You retort playfully and Vi falls even more in love with you, as if that’s even possible. “But tell me what’s on your mind, baby. What’s going on?”

Vi takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second to gather herself. When she opens them, you’re turning off the burner for the sauce and reaching for the fettuccine to the side. Just as you’re pouring the pasta into the bubbling water, Vi’s thoughts spill out.

“I want to have a family with you.”

You go still for a moment, your arms poised above the boiling water with the empty pasta box in your hands. Vi’s unable to see your face but she isn’t necessarily worried about your reaction. It’s a conversation that you’ve had multiple times over the span of your relationship, but today is where you start taking steps towards putting it in action.

“Well, yes,” you start, placing the pasta box back on the counter. Then you’re turning in her arms so you’re facing each other again, your eyes peering into hers. “We’ve spoken countless times about this.” You smooth your hands over the rounds of her shoulders, your face soft. “I’m still very much onboard with this because I want to have a family with you too. But I’m guessing you want to talk about a timeline.”

Vi nods, momentarily speechless because you always just get her, even without her having to say anything. She pulls you away from the stove to sit you on one of the kitchen island’s stools. She notes how you eye the pasta and makes a mental note to attend to the pot after five minutes.

“We always did say that we’d really start considering it once we’ve gotten our lives sorted,” Vi says, standing between your thighs. “And I’d say that our lives are pretty solid. We’re no longer in debt and we’ve got a decent amount saved away.” Her fingers play with your hair, causing you to lean into her touch. “So I thought that now would be a good time to try.” Vi then shakes her head. “Obviously, it’s your choice because it’s your body and I’d never want to pressure you into doing anything because of me and—”

Vi doesn’t notice she’s rambling until you’re pressing your finger against her lips, fond amusement colouring your features.

“I married a good woman,” you say, so tender that Vi feels her heart swell so much that it hurts. It presses against her ribs, pushes up on her lungs making her breathless. It makes her cling to you, hiding her head into the curve of your shoulder. Your hands come around to run soothingly down her back and she melts. “I know it's my choice, baby. You've never made me feel like it wasn't.”

Despite Vi knowing that, the relief that hits her is cool and instant. It's always nice to hear that she isn't pressuring you; that she's allowing you to make your own choices regardless of what she wants.

“I've always wanted to have children with you,” you continue, still running soothing patterns down her back. “That's something that has never changed and probably never will.” You then lean back and Vi's graced with the excitement in your beautiful eyes. “I imagine a little kid who's a mixture of me and you. Maybe my hair and your eyes or vice versa.”

“I hope they get your personality,” Vi says softly. “That they get your kindness and empathy. Your patience and wisdom.”

You laugh quietly, closing your eyes to hide from the blinding of Vi's earnest gaze. You're embarrassed, she can tell, and that makes this moment all the sweeter.

“Well, I hope they get your strength and conviction,” you reply, tilting your head up so the tip of your nose catches the softness of Vi's cheek. “That they get your loyalty and ambition. Your sympathy and empathy.”

Vi's cheeks burn at the compliments you dress her in. Compliments that you would call truths because that's how you see her. Even under all the mess and mistakes, you see the diamonds that rest beneath the dirt.

She'll never understand why someone as special as you forever wants to be with her.

“So…what are you thinking?” Vi asks, eager to see where your head’s at. She watches as you purse your lips with a hum, eyes rolling upwards to stare at the ceiling in thought. Then you’re looking back at her with a smile and that’s how Vi finds her answer.

“Really?” Vi has to double check, to be sure that you’re both on the same page; that this is what you want to do from this moment.

“I’ve been wanting to suggest it for a while but—Violet!” You exclaim out of surprise, laughter startled from you when Vi pulls you in for a tight hug. But your arms are wrapping around her instantly, holding on with a solid grip.

“Thank you,” Vi whispers into your neck, planting a delicate kiss over your pulse. “Thank you so much.”

“No need to thank me,” you say quietly, returning the kiss to the curve of her ear. “I want this too.”

Vi nods and gives you a firm squeeze before pulling away, but not too far so she can still keep you in her arms. She’s so overwhelmed; there’s so much she wants to say but all of it is tied at the back of her throat. The words aren’t coherent but they have meaning and Vi will try all she can to convey how precious that meaning is.

“Okay so,” you begin after you both sit in relaxed silence for a while. “I love you so much and you’re my everything but if that pasta’s mushy, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You lie,” Vi replies, nuzzling at your cheek. “You love me too much to hate me.”

“But I love pasta more,” you tease, your soft laughs muted by the gentle press of Vi’s lips against yours.

The pasta has gone soft but you don’t seem to mind, all too distracted by Vi's sweet kisses.

“So you’re officially trying for kids now?”” Jinx says one afternoon in the small cafe they often frequent. It's raining outside and there's a chill in the air that seeps into your bones and makes you want to stay in bed. That's where Vi wishes she was now, all curled up underneath the sheets with you.

“Yeah, we had a proper talk about it a few days ago,” Vi says. “Not that all the other talks weren't proper but our plans didn't have a start date.” She swirls the remaining dregs of coffee in her mug. “Now we're both ready and soon there's gonna be a kid in the picture.”

Jinx hums, taking a sip of whatever iced concoction she's gotten today. “I mean, it's a big thing,” she says around her straw. “Bringing a small human into the world. Plus babies are kinda gross with their uncontrollable bowel movements.” Her nose scrunches up. “Not to mention the crying and screaming and inability to talk for the first two years.”

Vi shrugs. “Yeah, but I don't give a shit about any of that.”

“Well, duh. Because you're with someone who's gonna make it worthwhile,” Jinx replies matter-of-factly. “It's kind of like being in love with the person of your dreams makes you more tolerable to things. Shocker.”

“You're already falling into your Cynical Aunt role.” Vi says, deadpan but smiles when Jinx chuckles.

“Don't get me wrong, I'm gonna love the shit out of that little goober,” Jinx says strongly. “Gonna be the best auntie in the world. Much better than Caitlyn or Mel, that's for sure.”

Vi makes a doubtful expression, an eyebrow raised, and raises her hands to placate when Jinx aims her butter knife at her.

“No, you'll be great,” Vi tells her and despite their jokes, she means it. She sees how Jinx is with kids; how she may not seem interested at first but then slowly opens up. Not to say that she connects with every child but when Jinx cares, she cares with her entire heart. So Vi knows that her children will be loved.

Jinx eyes her and takes another sip of her drink before saying, “There's something on your mind.”

Vi huffs. “How can you tell?”

“I'm your sister, we grew up together,” Jinx lists off. “I mean, ignore the fact that we didn't talk for seven years but I know you.” She finishes off her glass and pushes it to the side. “What's going on?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Vi chuckles, running a hand through her hair, before leaning back in her seat.

“I just…worry that I may not be a good parent.” She confesses after a moment.

“Why?” Jinx asks straight away, not giving Vi the time to wallow too deeply.

“Because…I mean, look what happened with us,” Vi says, gesturing between them. “I left you alone for seven years over a misunderstanding that took ages to fix. I was supposed to be there for you when our parents died. When Vander died and I…” Vi stops for a second, a heavy knot in her throat. “...I wasn't there and I'm just scared that I'm gonna fuck all of this up.”

Jinx stares at her for a bit, her expression unreadable, before she gives a big eye roll.

“You're so stupid,” she says loudly.

“Gee thanks.” Vi replies.

“You're so stupid because I don't think you realise how good of a big sister you were,” Jinx continues. “How good of a big sister you are. Life sucked for us for a long time, Vi. Especially after our parents and Vander died. Then the hits kept on coming and we had no say in how we survived for a long time. Yes, we got separated and yes, it made me so fucking mad at you, but you came back for me.” She takes a deep breath. “If we could redo the past, we would. But we can't. But things have been fixed and you've shown me time and time how capable you are.” She then laughs. “I mean, you've been in a committed relationship for twelve years, Vi. Most people don't last up to the five month mark.”

Vi tries to ignore the sting behind her eyes, the tears that slowly blur her vision.

“Plus you guys are totally in love,” Jinx says, a slight smile curving her lips. “It's absolutely nauseating but it's also kinda beautiful. You'll make a really good parent, Vi. You got the best of mom and our dads. And your partner kicks ass and is one of the best people I've ever met so…” Jinx shrugs. “Your children are gonna be so lucky to have you two as parents.”

There’s then a lull that falls between them and Vi's trying so hard not to cry. So she swallows back the knot in her throat, chasing it away with her last bit of coffee.

“Saying all of that must have driven you nuts,” Vi jokes weakly, reaching out to give Jinx's hand a grateful squeeze.

“Yeah, I feel gross and need to take a shower,” Jinx jokes in return, weak too and she squeezes Vi's hand just as tight. “Consider that your birthday and Christmas gift.”

Vi laughs loudly, eyes crinkling and mouth wide with the joy she feels.

“Fair enough.” She concedes, knowing damn well Jinx will surprise her with a homemade gift regardless.

“...So, gonna go home and blast your baby batter into—?”

“Jinx.”

A week or two pass after those conversations are held. Life maintains its norm, leaving you and Vi to continue your existence in its blissful way. It's comforting as it is confusing, because Vi knows that everything’s on the table now. Left wide open for the both of you to bask at.

Vi waits for your move, watches you with a keen eye as you drift throughout the days. She cooks the both of you dinner every other night, picks you up from work every day without fail and holds you close at night so you fall asleep. She does what she knows to do, does it because it has that essence of normalcy.

But that doesn't stop the urges from arising. It doesn't halt the need that bubbles in her stomach every time she sees you. It's overpowering, overwhelmingly so, and Vi fails to understand it until one late evening.

You're curled up beneath Vi’s arm as a movie plays on the television. It's a standard comedy, nothing utterly hilarious but enough to pull a few chuckles from both of you. Vi has hit optimal relaxation, all loose and soft due to you being so close. She can smell the scent of your body wash, drops her face into your hair so she can inhale what lies there. Your shampoo and something so uniquely you.

Her focus has since shifted from the movie, all of it on you as she notes how you’re barely paying attention to the screen. You’ve got this faraway look in your eyes, seemingly lost in thought and Vi wonders what's going through that pretty head of yours.

Then you do something unexpected; you shift a hand towards your stomach and…gently rub at it. The arc of your hand graceful as you follow the slope of your covered flesh. It looks soothing, similar to how you rub Vi's muscles on the days the flare-up of old injuries is too much. But it's also different and Vi's quick to notice it; she sees how your hand comes to lay at your lower stomach and—

Oh.

Vi's suddenly feeling a bit flustered.

A minute goes by, slowly ticking, and Vi tries not to give herself away. She tries not to reveal how the simple act of you rubbing your stomach has her heating up. How she's instantly imagining your stomach round with her child and the way your hand would look caressing the bump.

So tender, so gentle.

Something hot within Vi stirs, causing her to grow a bit restless. The movie captures her attention for a bit, but it hardly does much. Especially when you're pressed into her, still rubbing at your stomach and fuck, her sweatpants feel a little tight.

Because it isn't only about your stomach growing with life inside you. It's also about the transformation you'll grow through. How you'll get softer, how your scent will become a little milkier. How your breasts will swell in preparation and how you'd be a stunning image of how you belong to.

Vi.

Because it's Vi who'll do that to you; it's her who will fuck you full until you can't take anymore. It's Vi who will come and come and come in you until it takes and she sees the fruits of her labour.

It's her who'll…who'll breed you until you’re tongue's tied and your body's a wreck.

So beautiful and pilant and hers.

“...Vi?” Your voice calls her home, like a siren's song, and she's retrieved from her debauched thoughts. “Vi, sweetheart, the movie's done.”

Vi blinks at the television, the credits rolling down the dark screen. How long had she been spacing out for.

“Oh,” she says lamely and you chuckle, standing up from the couch. You tug at her arm, smiling tiredly, as you tilt your body towards the bedroom.

“I'm sleepy,” you say, giving one more tug before Vi’s standing on her feet. “Let's go to bed, we've got work in the morning.”

“Uh huh,” is all Vi can manage as she allows you to lead her to your bedroom.

Something new has clicked in her brain.

Something deep and primal at its core.

...She cannot talk to Jinx about this.

#vi x you #vi x reader #vi x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane #arcane league of legends #my writing

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megamindsecretlair · 2 months ago

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Dance in the Dark

Pairing: Ghostface!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, Dom!Terry, mean Terry, SMUT, PWP, PIV, oral (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), knife kink, hair pulling, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: One drunken night, you giggle with your friends as you dared each other to sign up for a fetish dating website that matched your kinks with others. The site took its reputation seriously so you knew that the man on the other side of the screen was real. And he really was that gorgeous. Terry acknowledges that it's time to meet and he makes sure this Halloween is unforgettable.

Word Count: 6,350k

AO3 Link

A/N: WHEW. I'll see myself out on this one. Chilleeee. I need to hose myself down. Enjoy and Happy Halloween, my loves. Taking a much needed break after this one! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

📥 New Message

You continued to swing back and forth on your gamer chair, grabbing your phone and immediately swiping on the message.

TJ: I look forward to tonight.

You shrieked and bit your nail, pulling your legs in towards you as far as they would go. When that grew uncomfortable, you lifted your sock-clad feet to the edge. It dug into your arch but your mind was only focused on one Mr. Terry Richmond.

It shouldn’t have thrilled you so much to receive a message from him. It had started out as a simple dare with your friends, each of you making a profile on a fetish connection website and laughing at all the desperate men.

You never expected to actually run across someone who looked like him. You thought he was fake or a bot. You thought AI had crept its way into the dating scene, preying on unsuspecting lonely people. The checkmark next to his name let you know that he was, in fact, very much real.

The website took its privacy and its reputation very seriously, vetting all members that signed up. You included. Anyone could message first, the app offering potential matches based on answers to the questionnaire on start up.

You and your friends had giggled, deliriously drunk while you answered the questions. Some you kept to yourself. Not because you were embarrassed, but because you were kind of taking it seriously. You wanted to see what was out there for someone like you, someone who desperately wanted to hand over control to someone capable of leading.

You: Me too.

TJ: Did the box arrive?

You sucked in a rush of air since you forgot to breathe. Over the course of the past few weeks, you shared many messages with Terry. Told each other everything really. You always managed to skirt around talking about the obvious. That you were on a fetish dating website and looking for someone to take control.

You discussed books you’ve read or music you listened to. No matter how silly your tastes, Terry wanted to hear it all. You always felt heard with him. Understood by him. And it made your crush sink further in your chest and take root. Blossom into a full on obsession with his pictures.

He was a private man, evident by his profile that you visited at least ten times a day. Eleven if you had enough time to stroke yourself to his pictures. He didn’t have many, but he had a few of him in the gym and of him hiking. He had one thirst trap picture of him in a berry shirt, staring at the camera with crushing intensity.

As you grew more serious, Terry began to switch up the conversations. Naturally sliding in his dominant nature by telling you to do things. He did it so subtly, so minutely, that you hadn’t known what was going on until he was ordering you not to touch yourself anymore and you actually obeyed. All from texts.

You stared at his latest message, panties growing damp from how excited he made you. The past week, he decided that it was time to meet in person. You were obviously nervous, but every time you thought of it, your thighs tingled and your pussy throbbed.

You: I got everything.

TJ: Good. I want you to relax tonight.

You giggled breathlessly in the comfort of your room, chewing on your nail. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be your life. It would be hard to relax knowing that Terry could slip in at any time. Show off those mysterious Marine skills he talked about on his profile.

You: You really don’t find this weird?

TJ: What’s weird about it? It’s healthy.

TJ: Besides, I’ve been fighting an erection all week thinking about tonight.

“God,” you moaned out loud.

It turned you on even more that he was so open with his desire for you. You were used to weak men constantly trying to play it cool. Play it smart. Act as if they were doing you a favor by being with you. You always knew that a real man wouldn’t pretend. He’d be real. And Terry was real.

You: It’s been so hard not touching myself. 😣

TJ: You didn’t, did you?

You: Noooo 😇

TJ: Am I sensing a brat? A little late in the game to introduce curveballs.

You giggled at your phone, nearly kicking your feet. You were obsessed. You had a job where you couldn’t even try to sneak and be on your phone. Rules were important and you always felt like you had a neon sign professing your guilt whenever you broke a single one. But you were always itching to look at your phone. To see if there was a new message from him or a new command.

Once, he made you stop what you were doing and go to the nearest bathroom to edge yourself. You’d never done anything like that before and you had been so nervous, but fuck, you had been close to cumming. It was impossible to stop yourself but somehow you did.

Another time, he wanted you to take your sexiest picture. You had been fussing and fawning over the correct one, loving them all but you weren’t sure which one would appeal to him. Then it dawned on you. It was about what appealed to you.

After that, you took a teasing photo showing just enough but hiding a lot more. You wore a black bra and panty set and sat on your haunches, letting your thick thighs widen. You tilted your head and gave him a shy smile. The minute the picture went off, you knew it was a good one.

You sent it to him and he sent you a picture back five minutes later showing a puddle of cum on his office desk. This man drove you wild, stimulated your brain in the best possible way. You hadn’t ever known a man to seduce your mind the way he seduced all your other senses.

He sent a few voice notes, enough to understand the cadence of his speech while he issued out small orders. It wasn’t always sexual. Sometimes he wanted you to go to bed early, grab you some tea, or run you a hot bath because you had a body ache earlier.

You: Moi? A brat. I know not what you mean.

An alarm went off on your phone letting you know that it was past time to start getting ready. The first part of Terry's carefully thought out night was that you took a bath, paid attention to your body, relaxed with a glass of wine and unwound from the day.

Hell, that sounded relaxing just on general principle. You took your phone with you into the bathroom, turning on the light and getting the bath started. You added your favorite scent, pouring a healthy dollop of bath soap into the steaming water.

You hummed as you moved around the space, gathering a plush cream towel big enough to fit around your body. Comfort items had to be one of your platonic love languages. You loved soft things. From blanket hoodies, to bath towels, to throw blankets.

You lit a candle as the water ran, white bubbles foaming on the surface of the water. You went to the kitchen and poured your favorite glass of wine, swirling the liquid in your wine glass. You sniffed the glass and took in the subtle notes and highlights.

You hooked up your phone to your bathroom speaker on your way back to the bathroom, turning on some grown and sexy music. Terry wanted you to relax, then you were going to relax.

You told him you were hopping in the bath and he responded quickly.

TJ: Take your time, beautiful.

Your heart fluttered and you sighed, wondering how the hell you got so lucky. Truly, what kind, divine act did you commit to land someone like Terry? You had to pinch yourself as you took off your clothes.

Your silk short shorts and tank top slid down your body, tingling in some areas from how hyper aware you were. You sat on a hand towel on the edge of the tub and ran your fingers through the water. Just a few more minutes before it was perfect.

You grabbed the last candle you used, the smell of spearmint eucalyptus filling the space even if it wasn’t lit. You used an electric lighter to light it. The soft glow played across your hands and you took a deep breath.

Tonight already did wonders for your frayed nerves. Taking the time to soak everything in helped you relax in a way only journaling could accomplish. You needed more nights like these, nights that were just for you.

You tucked your hair into a bonnet and then sunk into the bath, moaning at the hot water touching your cool skin. The water sloshed as you carefully sat down, leaning your back against the back of your tub and moaning once more.

This felt entirely too good. “Falsetto” by the Dream played and you sank further into the water, lighting washing yourself at first. You started with a face mask, smattering the cream on your face. You let that sit while you washed the rest of your body.

With every area that you washed, you wondered which areas Terry would pay attention to. Was he an ass man? Titties man? Thighs man? You had your impressions but you didn’t want to get too caught up in the fantasy. If tonight went well, you hoped to turn this into a full time thing if he was game.

You didn’t have to date on top of it, but god, you wouldn’t say no either. Wouldn’t say no to living life the way you needed to. Being at the mercy of someone who knew what to do with it. How to handle you. How to take all of your stress and worries and let you know what peace felt like. You wanted to do the same for him.

You wanted to be the one he sought out when he had a bad day. Or when he just needed some stress relief. When the world got too loud and unfair and the only thing he could control was whether or not you came.

You wanted that push and pull and you wanted it desperately with Terry. You only hoped he was game as well. He said he wasn’t talking to others on the app and you wanted to believe him. You also wouldn’t blame him if he were lying. You only needed him to be safe and careful.

He sent over his latest test results showing that he was clean. He told you from the onset that he hated condoms. He enjoyed the feeling of pussy wrapped around his dick. You were on the pill and showed him your results as well. Somehow, he even made getting tested sexy.

After your bath, you took time shaving the important bits. You rubbed your favorite lotion and perfume together and then rubbed it into your skin. Your skin prickled. When would he do it?

When you were in bed? When you were in the kitchen? When you were on your way out of the bathroom? You looked towards your bathroom door. It was slightly ajar, your dark hallway beyond.

He could be there now, watching you just beyond the shadows. It should scare you. Yet it only made your skin flush with heat. Your breathing turned choppy and you forced yourself to return to that sense of calm you had before.

You finished lotioning up and brushed your teeth, adding on a mint just in case. You blew out the candle and then pulled on your robe, returning to your darkened room. The blackout curtains worked well. The darkened room felt more intimate than normal.

Terry’s preferred outfit lay across your freshly laundered comforter and sheets. You hoped after tonight, that it would be good and filthy again. You slipped on the lingerie Terry shipped to you, taking your time to pull on the purple metallic bra with fleur-de-lis decorations in black and turquoise blue. The matching panties and skirt set glided smoothly across your dewy skin.

The skirt connected to thigh high stockings and you hurriedly pulled those on as well. You leaned down to pull on high heels, strapping it around your ankle. You’d never felt sexier. There was something deeply erotic about wearing an outfit someone else picked for you.

You took off your bonnet and shook out your hair, arranging it just how you liked. You walked over to your closet, opening the door to look in the long mirror. You turned from side to side, appreciating how well it fit. How sexy it looked on you.

The heels felt like stepping on clouds and you walked around your room, getting used to the feel of it. Hell, you’d fuck you in a heartbeat. You hoped Terry liked it. Speaking of…

You went over to your dresser, cleaning up some of the mess you made while getting ready for work. You grabbed your phone, charging, and switched the song to Under by Pleasure P.

You opened the new message by Terry, tingling pinpricks shooting up your inner thighs.

TJ: See you soon, beautiful.

The message was sent when you began your bath so you had no idea if he was just now leaving or if he was already there. Not knowing had you clenching your thighs. You had to calm down. Had to return to a relaxed state.

Final steps. You dimmed the lights in your bedroom, setting it to where you could barely see. You transferred the music from your bathroom to your bedroom’s speakers. Then you grabbed your wine and took a few more sips until you emptied your glass. You pouted at the missing liquid and then sighed.

You turned around, trudging to the kitchen to the nasty croon of Pleasure P. singing. You hummed as you opened your fridge, bringing out your wine and pouring another healthy glass.

You stopped pouring and lifted your head, an awareness of being watched creeping into your senses. You slowly turned around but there was no one in the kitchen. You fought the urge to turn on the overhead lights, letting the backlighting guide most of your way.

There was no one behind you, yet you couldn’t fight the urge that he was there. That he was near. “Terry?” You called out. Your house never seemed so empty before. You stepped forward, your heels clicking on the tile.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and you jumped with a shriek, laughing as you saw Terry’s phone number flash across your screen. You swiped it to answer it and brought it to your ear.

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to call out who’s there?” He asked.

“Terry?” You asked, breathlessly, looking for any sign of movement. There was nothing in the pitch black night outside your house and not a peep from the one level house.

Terry’s deep chuckle made you shiver and bite your lip. This man was too sexy for words. Too fucking sinful. He was the total and complete package, driving you crazy with a few well placed words.

“Are you scared?” Terry asked, dropping his voice to a low, purring tease.

“N-No,” you said. You abandoned your wine and then went snooping around your own home, staring at closet doors warily. How did he get in? If he got into your place without a disturbance in the air, you hated to be an enemy of his. Hated to see what he was capable of when he was focused on a mission.

Terry chuckled. “Don’t lie to me,” he said.

“A little. I’m a little scared,” you admitted.

“That’s better. I’d be worried if you weren’t. You smell good by the way,” he said.

Your gasp was a mix of a whine and a moan. Where was he? Where would he pop out? You walked towards the back of the house, towards your room and your bathroom. You checked behind the doors and everything.

“You’re playing with me,” you said, with a breathless giggle.

“A little. Remember our safe word?” He asked.

You nodded and licked your lips but then it dawned on you that he couldn’t truly see you. “Yes. It’s Halloween,” you said.

“Good girl,” he purred.

You whimpered, pussy fluttering. Your essence pooled in your panties. There was no way that you could play it cool tonight. No way to remain cool, aloof, and alluring. You were down bad for Terry Richmond. Down atrocious. There was nothing that you could deny him. Nothing he couldn’t ask for that you wouldn’t try to provide.

“Want to play a game? I have a few questions,” he said.

“What kind of questions?” You asked. You searched high and low but you couldn’t determine where he was. If he was in the house or if he was right outside. You were not dressed for outside so you didn’t even attempt it.

Instead, you went around to check the locks on your doors. All still locked. Nothing amiss. You pulled back the white curtain on your back door window and peered out into the foggy evening. Nothing moved. Not a single leaf or blade of grass.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asked, a dark rumble in his voice that made you bite your lip once more. This was why you could never seriously wear lipstick or lipgloss. Maybe for about ten minutes before you were biting or nibbling or picking at your lips.

You giggled. “Really?” You asked.

“Don’t want to play with me?” He asked.

You sighed and relaxed a fraction. He couldn’t be in the house yet. He was only toying with you and you were letting him get to you. He told you to relax and that was what you were going to do.

“The Frighteners,” you answered.

Terry chuckled. “That doesn’t count.”

“Sure it does. It’s classified as horror and it sure freaked me the hell out,” you said.

“Do you get scared easily?” He asked.

“Depends. I can watch movies but being scared in real life sucks,” you said. Which only made this whole exchange all the more surreal. But you were already a dripping mess. Forget prep time. Terry would have no issues just sliding right inside you.

“Can you guess which room I’m in right now?” Terry asked.

You gasped, turning around. Didn’t you just check all of the doors? You stepped back into your kitchen. You could hear your gasping breaths, heart thumping against your rib cage. “You’re playing with me again,” you said.

“Am I? You’re cold by the way,” he said.

You released your breath in slow increments, stepping forward through your kitchen with blue cabinets making the kitchen darker. You peered around the corner, looking towards the living room. You took a step forward and Terry tsked at you.

“Freezing,” he said.

You giggled nervously, turning around to your hallway. Your steps turned from clacking to pattering on the runner as you walked down the hallway. “Getting warmer. Warmer,” Terry teased as you walked closer to your bedroom.

Your heart was in your throat, beating a thumping rhythm against your neck as you traveled closer to your room. Why had you turned the lights so low? You inched closer, wanting to get close but not wanting to be blindsided by Terry jumping out.

“Burning up,” Terry said as you passed the linen closet. You stopped and reached out a hand, turning the handle slowly and then opening the door. You flinched, prepared for Terry to jump out.

“Found you,” Terry said.

You giggled, relief flooding through you now that you knew he wasn’t on the other side. You closed the door and then walked to your bedroom just fine, putting your hand on your hips. “You’re not really here. Because if you were, you’d be able to tell me what I’m doing right now,” you said.

You made an L on your forehead and twisted around in your room. “What am I doing?” You called out. “What am I doing?”

You giggled and lowered your hand, turning around just as a shadow passed in front of your door. You squealed and tripped over your heels trying to backtrack away. Escape, escape! Your mind flashed warning bells in your mind.

A man stood in front of you wearing black cargo pants, black boots, and a black tank top. Tattoos caught in the low light of your bedroom window and your pussy clenched looking at his powerful arms. The Ghostface mask seemed to float in the air but you knew just beneath that was Terry’s fine face.

“Boo,” he said.

Your mouth turned dry at being scared but heat flooded through your system taking in every delicious inch of him. He was incredibly tall and he had to duck to cross into your room.

You backed away even as your mind screamed for you to move forward. Terry raised a knife in his hand, the metal glinting. It was a standard chef’s knife and you whimpered looking at it.

This was the dumbest thing you’d ever done. The wildest, stupidest, most asinine thing ever. But it was also a wish that came true. You were already a puddle, a mix of adrenaline and arousal confusing your senses in the worst way. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream from frustration or fear.

Terry tilted his head, making the mask go sideways. He stepped closer to you and brought his hand up to caress your chin. He pulled you closer to his mask and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Couldn’t look away at the ghostly visage as he took a deep breath.

“You smell good enough to eat,” he said.

You sighed and finally blinked. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said.

“Safe word?” He asked.

“Halloween,” you said.

Terry nodded and then walked around in a circle, perusing your body as if you were on display. He hand followed behind him, reaching out to run his rough, callused fingers across your bare belly. “Gorgeous,” he said.

Fuck, you were ready to burst right out of your skin. This entire week had been nothing but foreplay to you. He gave instructions and a list of things to obtain for him, things he wanted you to choose so that you knew exactly what was coming.

“What are you going to do now?” You asked. You felt like he could hear your audible gulp. Swallowing around the thick cord of lust zapping through your body and making it hard to breathe properly. You were on the edge, itchy with the need to cum, but knowing that it would only happen when he decided.

“Where’s the rope?” He asked. You felt behind you on the dresser for the silk rope he asked you to pick out. Something soft and easily adjustable so that you could escape at any moment. If this continued, you’d work your way up to more hardcore stuff. Hand over more and more of yourself.

Your fingers clasped clumsily around the rope and held it up. Terry leaned to one side and tilted his head once more, playing with the edge of the knife. “Put it on,” he commanded.

You licked your lips and slipped the silk rope around your wrists and tightened it. Terry crooked his finger and you walked forward immediately. No use pretending that this wasn’t exactly what you craved.

Terry had set a neat trap in his messages and voice notes to you. The late night calls where his sinful voice rocked you to sleep. He made it easy to surrender. To give in. To cast off all of the doubt and anxiousness. Now you just wanted to feel. To listen. To shut your brain off for half a second and enjoy yourself.

Terry tugged you forward by the silk rope, testing the limit and resistance on it. You almost hated that you couldn’t see his pretty face. But you’d cum so many times to his pictures that you had it committed to memory.

Terry pulled you forward with the rope, pulling you over to your bed and pushed you down. You bounced with a gasp, your titties bouncing with the movement. Terry stepped into your personal space, leaning down and pressing the cold metal of the knife against your throat. You moaned, feeling the knife slide across your skin. He barely grazed you but it was the dark promise of it that turned you on.

That you were a hair’s breadth away from mortal danger. That at any moment, he could press deeper and draw blood. You whimpered as your body overheated. You burned from the inside out, sweat breaking out in patches all over your body.

“Terry,” you moaned.

Terry moved the knife down to trail over the swells of your breasts. Your chest rose and fell in choppy waves, getting too excited before he had a chance to do anything. He slipped the knife beneath your bra and you moaned, arching your chest into the knife.

“You’re too trusting,” he said. He palmed your breasts roughly, finding your nipples through the fabric of your bra and squeezing painfully. You cried out, trying to close your legs but he had encroached upon your space without you realizing. You had been too busy focusing on the knife and his mask.

He tossed the knife onto the bed and gripped your thighs, spreading you open and yanking you to the edge of the bed. The music still playing in the background only added to the scene, getting you further into the mood.

I know you like it nasty.

Nasty by Joshua Williams began to play, juices slipping between your legs and soaking your panties.

Terry pushed the seat of your panties to the side, trailing his fingers through your wet folds. “Oh, fuck,” you whispered, whimpering as your hands flew to his to stall his movements. He ignored you, smacking your hands away.

“Push them titties up and keep your hands there,” he said.

You grabbed your titties and pushed them together. Terry groaned, leaning forward. His thick fingers played you like a fiddle, gathering up your slick. He shoved two fingers inside and you cried out, body arching. Your hands slipped from holding your titties.

“Put your hand back. Don’t make me tell you again,” he growled.

You whimpered and replaced your hands on your chest. You turned pleading, doe eyes towards him. Terry leaned down and rubbed the mask against your cheek. You shivered from the unexpected coolness of it. It did little to dampen the heat in your veins. The fire in your lower belly.

“Nice and fuckin’ wet. All of this for me?” Terry asked.

You nodded. “Yes, yes,” you said. His fingers worked liquid magic on your pussy, making you soak his fingers with how long and deep his fingers went. You opened your mouth, arching your back and grinding on his fingers. He stroked until you were shaking and moaning on his fingers.

“Gonna stretch the fuck outta this pretty pussy,” he promised. He withdrew his fingers and then shoved his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. Taste how wet he made you. Taste how turned on you were under his control.

He ripped at your panties and you gasped at the shredding sound, knees trying to close around his massive frame. His narrow hips kept you spread open. He moaned, getting his first look at your pussy. “Look at that shit. My needy little slut,” he groaned.

Your pussy clenched as he unzipped his pants, jerking it down his hips and revealing his long, thick dick. Your eyes widened taking in the size and girth of him. His balls were big and heavy, drooping and tapping against his strong thighs.

He slapped his dick against your pussy, competing with the music. You moaned with each wet smack, hearing how turned on you were. Your taste was still on your tongue, in your nose, and you closed your eyes to all of the sensations.

Terry pushed you onto your back and slapped his dick against your pussy once more, your juices jumping from the action. Your teeth chattered, unbridled desire coursing through you and driving your pleasure higher and higher.

It’d been too long since you came. Too long since you felt that rush of relief and you were ready to leap from your skin.

Terry grabbed the knife and slipped it beneath your bra. He cut it loose and you cried out, your titties free and spilling out from either side of the cups. Terry groaned, pushing his hips in before catching himself.

He palmed himself with his other hand and guided himself inside, placing the knife against your skin but keeping his fingers there as a barrier so that it wasn’t directly on you. Just held above your skin as a silent threat.

He was so big, you cried out, holding up your hands. Terry ignored you, pushing in deeper and retreated to give you a tiny breather. He grunted and tried again, getting deeper this time.

“Too big,” you moaned, your eyes turning watery at the slow burn working its way through your midsection.

“I’ll make it fit, don’t worry,” he cooed. He dived back in, giving you shallow strokes. It became easier to take him with every downward stroke, and your thighs clenched around his hips.

He used his left hand to slide down your thigh, up your calf, and pull your foot to his face. He rubbed the mask against your foot, lifting your leg higher to sit against his chest. It opened you up further to him, allowing him to nearly reach the base inside you. He was close to bottoming out.

You were crying, whimpering, shivering on his dick as it throbbed the more it slid in and out of you. Terry’s moans rivaled yours. He threw his head back and sank in deeper.

“Oh, fuck, god, damn, fuck, shit,” you whimpered, out of breath and half delirious. The stretch was perfect. Stuffing you completely full of dick.

“That’s a good pussy. Taking what I’m giving you. Feel me in this pussy?” He asked.

“Yes, yes, I feel you,” you cried, tears gathering in your eyes once more. You were driven out of your mind. Body weightless, limitless, stretching your awareness beyond what you could sense. It was metaphysical. Like your soul found his and stitched you together the more he stroked deep inside.

Terry moved the knife up to your cheek. He pushed your face to the side, exposing your neck. He trailed the knife close to your neck. You clenched around him and he moaned, picking up the pace and ramming inside of you.

He fucked you like you had him fucked up. Like he missed you. Like you intentionally kept yourself away from him and he was back to stake his claim. To draw a line in the dirt and dare you to disobey.

“Oh, shit. Ouee, shit. Ouee, shit, fuck you feel so good,” you moaned.

“You look so pretty taking dick. Getting my dick fuckin’ creamy. Can’t stop staring at how much every time I pull out,” he said.

You lifted your hands, intending to push him away. You were close to another orgasm and it was coming too fast. Too fast for you to brace for.

“Move that hand or I will,” he huffed, harsh moans and panting making you sick with desire. Your pussy squelched from the pressure of him entering you.

You moved your hands, holding it above your head. “Ouee, fuck. That dick feels too good,” you whimpered.

“That’s all yours,” he said.

You tensed up, careening head first into the orgasm and crying out, screaming to the ceiling from the intensity. You flopped around on his dick like a fish out of water and Terry continued to fuck you through it, moving the knife when necessary when it appeard you’d get too close.

Terry withdrew and tossed the knife back on the bed. He gripped your hips and flipped you over, re-entering you and you screamed. He matched you with a moan. “Fuck. So fuckin’ good. So fuckin’ wet. Fuckin’ me getting you this wet?” Terry asked.

You nodded and stretched your hands above you. You arched your back, giving him full access to your ass. His large hand came down to smack your ass, causing it to sting with pain. You hissed, not expecting the bite of pain. You flooded his dick once more, fresh juices leaking out of you.

“Oh fuck! Terry! Please, no more,” you cried out. You didn’t have another one.

Terry leaned down, pressing his lips close to your ear. “Aww, you think I care. Come on pretty girl, move that ass. Come get yours,” he said.

You shook your head. You didn’t have enough to hold yourself up with. Each thrust sent you into the bed, fucking you into the matress with unrelenting speed. Your body flushed with heat, great licks of fire. Still, you managed to throw it back on him. Matching his thrusts.

“That’s it. Soak this dick, pretty. Bouncing pretty on this fuckin’ dick. Unf, fuck. Takin’ me very well. You takin’ what I’m giving you?” Terry moaned.

How did he expect you to answer him at the moment? Your mind was gone, down into another plane of existence. He gripped your ass cheeks and spread them. He lifted his right hand and then quickly pressed his wet digit against your asshole, pressing in. You fell forward and he followed you down. He continued to stroke, sliding in and out of you, punishing you with his dick whether you could keep up or not.

The pressure was new, weird, but oh so fucking good when he pressed in deeper. You felt full. Stuffed completely.

“Give me another one,” he commanded.

“Can’t,” you gasped, your face smooshed into the comforter.

Terry gripped your hair with his free hand and yanked, bending you at a weird angle. He didn’t care. “I’m gonna paint this fuckin’ pussy with this nut. But you’re going to give me another one first,” he said, voice low and scraping against your eardrums in the most pleasurable way.

He wiggled his finger in your ass and you moaned, tensed up, and screamed with your orgasm. Your eyes burned as you screamed, loudly, shaking uncontrollably on his dick. “There it is. Fuck you think you are making me wait?” He asked and yanked on your hair to the point of pain.

“Sorrrryyyyyy,” you moaned as you came and came. He fucked you through it, chasing his own pleasure in your body. Burying his dick to the hilt and unloading with a deep, powerful growl erupting from his thick chest.

His cum shot inside you like it was a race to get you pregnant then and there. Your brain turned fuzzy, eyes turning black in the corners and he came and came with seemingly no end in sight.

“That’y my good fuckin’ slut,” Terry growled low in your ear.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

Terry pumped his hips a few more times before withdrawing from your body. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. Your pussy clenched as you pushed his cum out. He encouraged you, telling you to try to work every drop out.

He flipped you back onto your back. He grabbed you by the silk rope still tied around your hands and pulled you to your feet with one bicep curl. You moaned. Fuck. You’d go another round if you were able. You needed him back inside. Your pussy was unbearably achy, twitchy, needy.

You whimpered and cried as he pushed you to your knees. “Open your mouth,” he ordered.

You opened, staring up at him. He dug his fingers into your hair, pulling you forward. He tapped his dick against your lips, painting it with a mix of his cum and your essence. He shoved his dick inside and moaned, throwing his head back while you sucked him off.

You braced your fingers around his long legs, dusted with hair. You held on as he face fucked you, feeding you his dick.

“Get it nice and clean,” he cooed, at complete odds with the way he shoved past your resistance. You moaned, turning watery eyes to him. His mask was frozen in fake sympathy. He tilted his head at you, thrusting along with fucking your mouth.

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he moaned. You reached out and touched his balls. His hips jerked forward and you gagged, body rejecting him. “Fuuuck.” His moan tugged at your throbbing clit.

Saliva dribbled down the sides of your mouth, onto your chin, and dripped onto your titties still bouncing in the bra he cut through. You felt his cum leak out of your pussy, likely falling onto the floor.

“Pretty fuckin’ mess too. I’m finna bust. Swallow it,” he said.

You nodded on his dick. He thrust a handful more times before he burst in your mouth, stuffing more cum into your body. You swallowed it all, letting the sticky substance slide hungrily down your throat.

His hips stroked absently, like he couldn’t make himself stop even if he wanted to. He slowed down, pulling his dick past your lips slowly. You let him go with a wet pop. Terry cleaned the corners of your mouth with his fingers.

He dropped into a squat, as much as his pants would allow. He took off the mask letting you get a glimpse of that beautiful, sexy face of his. His eyes were narrowed, intense, focused as he smirked at you. He had permanent bedroom eyes. As if he were just waking up or just falling asleep. No in-between.

He smirked at you. “Ready for round two?”

The end.

Ya'll know I can't leave this man aloneeee. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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defmaybe · 2 months ago

Text

Mistake

NewJeans' Kim Minji (Angst) & NMIXX's Oh Haewon (Smut) x Male Reader

15.4k words

Some discussions of suicide

A/N: A few things before going in:

This is essentially an unedited, raw first draft. Expect an insane amount of errors and self-indulgent metaphors.

It's also unfinished in parts.

Still, I do genuinely hope that you enjoy this!

Thanks to Tyler and and Summer for putting me on the right track of being a writer!

Big inspirations from Caps' Departure, Nichu's Where Our Blue Is, Ddeun's Our Love Language is Sex, and Challengers

—

Prologue

—

Mistake all the time, You’re my mistake all the time, yeah

Mistake all the time, I’m your mistake all the time, yeah

—

You realized that you’ve never possessed the creative calibre as much as a writer should’ve had. Perhaps it’s appropriate that you’ve never pursued it as your major career. You read all these stories, and you knew that you just can’t come up with these plots. You don’t know how to do character developments, hell, you can barely write dialogues. The way people talk in real life remains a mystery to you. So, it’s probably for the best that you’re in engineering.

Though, it just takes a mistake to change it all. Many stories start with a catastrophe, a turning point, or something that puts the protagonist on their journey. So, here you are, you have a story right in front of you, so should it be transformed into something commendable? award-worthy? a selfish portrayal of what’s supposed to be just a passage of life? The goal of it doesn’t really matter much (though some recognition would be nice); you just had to write it out.

—

You don’t know how much time you have for this. Everyone has been telling you it should be long enough for the forgiveness to be ready, but you’ve also been wondering whether, if that day comes, it would be too long that the cadence won’t strike you as pristine as before.

Though, it hadn’t stopped you from fantasizing how this encounter would play out. You’d say something witty with a chuckle, and she’d smile back, or even better, a laugh. Both of you would see the separation as some childish actions of the past. The two of you would go back to where you were: grief-stricken, exhausted, scared high school students.

The sunlight would force you to retreat to some cafe during the afternoon, letting you two trade stories between the gaps. And as the sun sets, you’d sit beside her in some park, laid back a bit, hands on the grass to offer some balance. She’d do the same. Then your hearts would slowly be reconnected with each other, hoping to reclaim solace missing in the separation, as if you are the only two people on earth.

Firstly though, those events would have to be triggered by your words. And despite thousands of days of you trying to perfect every syllable, they just conveniently stuck in your throat. This isn’t what you’ve been readying yourself for. Awestruck and powerless is an understatement, and no tests have ever made you feel so drowned in your gargantuan number of thoughts.

You cannot say a word to her, and there may not be any second chance for this.

You are her mistake, and you’ll always be.

–

One: About You

–

There was something ‘bout you that now I can’t remember

It’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender

And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning

I never know what to think about

–

I like you

What

I like you! Like do you wanna go out on a date?

(Seen)

It isn’t the longest silence you’ll experience with her, let alone with someone else, fourteen years on earth won’t give much of an insight to you, but it’s enough for you to know what she’s going to say next.

I’m sorry

Regret in her words bled through the pixels.

But I just see you as a friend

Being on text messages takes out the awkwardness a bit, but that doesn’t help transform the dagger, really.

Kim Min-Ji, your entire relationship was based on this encounter, and that three-week phase of some bullet crush upon entering a new school preceding this. You were charmed by a girl’s look, and then no one can compete with that.

You had found her face appealing, then you fantasized your whole life with her. One thing led to another, and you were head over heels for her in just a week.

Nowhere that you haven’t gone with her in your head: a date at an American diner—drinking milkshakes, a trip to the theater—watching some schlocky romance and cringing when the couple on the screen are kissing each other, and the most ambitious one: marriage, she’s smiling, everyone you’ve ever known is surrounding you, cheering as you are leaning in for a kiss.

Too bad you didn’t have a backup plan if it failed.

Consequences of the rejection had you decompressing every, single, thing you’ve been admiring about her to your friends, yeah, the same ones. You treated that as if it was the end of the world.

It was quite a phase, and you inevitably got closer to those people. They were slowly fading away eventually, one by one, but at least, at that moment, you felt like there’s someone listening to you.

While the dagger stuck, you kept eluding her, avoiding eye contact as you were walking past each other. You had to let her know you were hurt. God, that shit looked so damn petty in retrospect.

It was a month later when the heartbreak dissipated, and both of you decided that the next three years cannot be spent evading each other. (To be honest, it’s mostly just for you to stop being weird.) A nod was all it took, and that probably was a lot better than having her as a girlfriend.

–

She wants you to live on your life, separately

Being on text messages (and having it delivered through a friend) takes out the cruelty a bit, but that doesn’t help transform the dagger, really.

It started with just some petty acts, a crude joke. Then, just over a month later, you deleted every single picture of her, almost five years of them. It wasn’t a hard thing to do when you were so deep in melancholy, just a few minutes after a friend brought the breakup message to you.

You thought you had to block her everywhere. But with every step taken to create some distance from her, those actions just, somehow, create unending echoes tormenting you.

Why

You really wanted to fix this; you really fucking did. You’ve never wanted it to end, even when you sent some faux, response-seeking farewell messages after days of waiting for her confirmation of how she felt, just to have her come and reply about the exam she was having just a few minutes later.

Are you gonna send something to her again if you know?

But even with her crying emojis, you were relentless with your replies. I fucking hate you still echoes to this day. It shaped how you see yourself: a selfish, yet codependent, self-indulgent, unlovable person. Even with the apology texts you sent a few weeks later (which she never saw), those four words were tattooed on you.

I won’t

You wished you could, but this answer seemed to be the way to satisfy her.

Think about it

Like all those years

What have you done to her

It was supposed to end with your first apology text, when she called herself an asshole over it. Then, you became one yourself. It turned out that reading only the preview message doesn’t give you the full picture, so you paid the price just a month later. You replied to that, then you waited. And with how God made you so insecure, you thought she wanted it to end after a week you took to reply.

You had problems.

It’ll all be okay

Someday

Looking at your friend’s text, you sighed, knowing that you can only let fate and time lead you to it.

–

You were nothing more than a friend. She sure loved you, just not in the way one would perceive as romantic. There were kind words, there was thoughtful advice, there were chatting deep into a lot of nights.

Any form of physical contact though, you brought it up in some conversations (which one eventually being the spark that burned it all), were always quickly suppressed by her. So, there you were, having her as a friend, and the bar for where your future girlfriends should be.

hey

need some advice rn

uh huh

there’s this guy

send me his pic

alright wait a sec

[photo]

my god

what

okay yeah I know why he’s a big deal

fuck auto caps on I again

fuck

just turn it off in the settings lol

thanks

[Replied to: okay yeah I know why he’s a big deal] ikr

[Replied to: thanks] no prob

how is it with him

As it was flourishing, there were times that you wished for it to be as easy as a kiss and a happily ever after, with how well-gelled you’ve always been together. But the distance between you is just too much.

You can’t conveniently visit her on every other weekend, while she really didn’t want to close the distance from being a close friend (or as you would think to yourself later: “our love may not coincide at the same time”). So, there you were, you became each other’s advisor for those times you’ve had.

–

All of what you saw as confidential: all the vibrations of your heart, all the tears running down your cheeks when alone, all the ties you cut and formed, as any teenager would do, was at last, delivered to your parents, at the age you didn’t think it was possible for such change.

You didn’t expect that your parents would take it well, with how you’ve withheld everything for the last half decade, reducing every answer to their questions into a binary set consisting of yes and no. But as they’ve always been, they didn’t leave you in the dark.

You pleaded guilty to all of it – how you were wretched inside. How she became so much to you, how you took everything she says as an oath, how her jokes lit up a smile on your face every time, and how they still haunt you, to this day, keeps you from initiating any new, proper relationship with someone.

They kept coming back, even if you thought time would slowly fade them away. The minor details, yes, but the bigger ones are still having free shots on you every now and then.

The first few months were difficult. Bed seemed to be the best place you could’ve been, lying down, your fingers sliding reels after reels for god knows how long. Though, it hits you, years of being alone, walling people out was detrimental to you. It starts with some small repairs: story replies to disconnected peers, dates with your close friends, more exposure to your family.

You seek connections, desperately, to fill up the hole she once occupied. You took too many side jobs aside from the grueling university classes, and to be honest, you did meet a lot of new people in the next semester, even more than you did in the last two or three years here.

The space though, five years of freestyle carving put it into this twisted, incomprehensible, harrowing state in which all the adjectives in the world aren’t enough to define the shape of its former owner. How every fibre of your existence was tied to her was, as seen from outside, sad.

Sure, it’s not wrong to let someone into your life, but with this extent – thousands of words to pry out a response - it just reeks codependency in retrospect.

It took some time, and a bunch of people, to cover up the space. You never quite make it like it was; there’s always a hole somewhere, and you can still see the footprints she left on you through it.

How you tell people close to you, most of the time, is that there was a fight - one you started. Then you were being a bitch for too long, and by the time you returned, she put you out of the picture. You added some bits of how you were dependent on her for your heartaches, how you treated her like shit for years, how you sent waves of messages that she didn’t reply because she was busy, how you said you hated her, only to retract and regret it a few days later, then it all ended.

It could be some way of unearthing emotional vulnerability under that “cold” façade - as often pointed out by your friends, which you deflected as crippling social anxiety. You thought people would trust you more if you decided to tell them how you succumbed to those inner demons. It works most of the time.

You told them that you cried to some K-pop song that you can only understand like two lines.

You told them how you tried to recover the photos with some external program not a week later.

You told them, with an otherworldly consistency, that it’s your fault, never hers.

You told them you’d send something a year later, as an apology, to return to where you once were.

You told them that you might crumble again if the response is anything but a warm embrace.

Your taped-up heart remained intact when the day came, having your friends around and such after a year of reconstruction, and you surrendered to the fact that you really can’t do much more than a guilt-ridden text. But it’s not easy at all to watch “Sent just now” become “yesterday”, then “last week”, then “last month” slowly unfold. Then you knew that your strength just cannot handle this; cadence can’t exist with a single note.

It took you back to that day, when the future was just this black, unbounded, silent yet serene space. Times where every knife suddenly became alluring, heights weren't what you were afraid of anymore, the next trip to a pharmacist might be a deathtrap.

This eternal apathy: it was tempting to give in to it – to just leave all of these behind. Yet, you weren’t so sure to give yourself such an ending. People won’t like it, or do they? A lot of stories saw their main characters to their ends, no matter which way it would be. And to be fair, a lot of them became cult classics. You weren’t so sure which would be the right ending for yours.

–

Two: Now That We Don’t Talk

–

You grew your hair long, you got new icons

And from the outside, it looks like you’re trying lives on

–

One advice you took from your therapist is to keep journaling your emotions, each day. And even with the poor self-discipline, whether in a book or a journal, you carved your grimaces, laughters, and tears into words. But perhaps that became too customary. And as time passes, you find the storyteller side of yours magnetized outwards. So, there you were, in front of your old laptop, nibbling on the dagger.

–

Your plane landed in Tokyo mere hours ago. It was a few days after your sophomore year finals. You were paying for your inability to sleep with the shaking cabin, and it was just nine (Tokyo Standard Time) in the morning. Your eyes went dry, and you can feel the irregular beats of your heart. The sleeping pills from your psychiatrist can’t handle the excitement of getting on a plane, especially if it’s to Tokyo.

It’s cold, spring cold. Snow is nowhere to be seen, but your tropical genes are already shaken with a small breeze. You excused yourself from your family for some minutes outside the airport, to get some air for alertness.

The train would depart in an hour, but with the risk-averse nature of your parents, you had only 20 minutes to snap a few photos around Narita. You quickly pace yourself against the crowd, to the outside. You strode through the arrivals terminal, before reaching the automated door, finally catching the air. And it’s cold, spring cold.

It was cloudy, yet the sun was bright enough to deflect your vision away from the matter of protecting it. You pick up your camera to snap a few photos, testing the recipes you had looked up from home. And god, wasn’t Japan so pretty?

But maybe it’s the wind, maybe it’s the temperature, maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, you’re drawn to her, again. It was just over a month ago since the incident. Yet miles away from your parents’ car, when Minji had her dagger delivered through your phone, and as the distance grew, you realized that it’s poisoned.

Should I check my block-list?

It echoes, even if you had no reason to do it. And you gave in, under that spring air: cold, dry, unrelenting, merciless.

You took a seat by a slanted cream walkway outside. A man was sitting across from you. He looked up, before going back onto his phone, nonchalant to your presence, and it’s like you could complain about it.

And immediately, you take out your phone, so eager to check your blocked accounts.

She changed her profile picture into something that you can’t even make sense of: her. Even under the face of the drawn character, you could feel her radiate through your screen. Locals and tourists are still marching towards their destination, either into the city, or a plane, unbeknownst to your internal collapse. It’s probably the way your face is always the same - concealing the tears so well - cheerful or devastated.

She moved on from you: her old persona shed, bio rewritten, era changed. Yet there you were, at least a sea away, crumbled into pieces.

Perhaps it was time for you to shed a new shell.

–

“Minji will be here too!” One of your friends said.

It was the first time you had a sleepover at your friends’ apartment. Alcohols were, of course, involved. A bit of drunk chatting with your friends and walking around helped with the university-induced depression, which you, then freshman, naively dismissed as a normal thing. Then, you heard she would come for some lunch before you go back to the mundane routine you got yourself into.

“Heyyyyy.” You shouted into the room as soon as the apartment’s door was closed. She was sitting on the sofa in the middle of your friends’ studio-sized room.

“Hey!” She seemed to look different from her high school days, crimson on her lips, longer eyelashes, paler cheeks. She wears makeup now, and you wouldn’t lie that it took you by surprise - how beautiful she was. It may have been contributed to the fact that you had just six hours of sleep the night before, but she was gorgeous that day, breathtaking even.

“God, I miss you so much.” You said, sitting down beside her on the couch, while looking over the screen of her ancient phone.

“Awww, thanks babe.” Minji blew you a kiss, irony, to which you happily caught.

“Long trip?” You asked, knowing how far she is from the city.

“Hour and a half.” She murmured.

“Sorry about that.” You chuckled, laying your back on the couch. It’s a display of your insufferable narcissism as usual, a humble smugness.

Your friends were too busy on their phones, waiting for a member to finish his shower before taking a trip into the city.

“No need, I’m here to see you.” Minji beams.

“Thanks, Minji.”

Not that you haven’t seen love blooming in front of you before, it’s just that you can’t grow the petals to display your stern sentiment. It has been, to say the least, difficult for you to express any tinge of compassion.

–

“ROMEO TAKE ME SOMEWHERE WE CAN BE ALONE, I’LL BE WAITING ALL THERE’S LEFT TO DO IS RUN.”

It’s only the two of you screaming between the other guys in the karaoke room. Even if it’s Taylor fucking Swift, she still seems to be threaded just between you two.

“YOU’LL BE THE PRINCE AND I’LL BE THE PRINCESS, IT’S A LOVE STORY BABY JUST SAY YES.”

You were pointing to each other, with others baffled by how enthusiastic you were.

Both of you kept going like wannabe singers until the end.

“WE WERE BOTH YOUNG, WHEN I FIRST SAWWWWW YOU.”

And the song ends, leaving only you two sharing the only spotlights in the room.

“Minji, fuck, god, that was great,” you panted, trying to catch your breath after screaming Love Story.

“You should thank me for listening to only English songs,” she scoffs, smiling at you.

You attempted to make a cute face, sarcastically. “Thanks, Miss Kim.”

“It’s my job to listen to Taylor Swift for you.” She bowed and smiled.

It’s always the irony-infused conversations, but deep down, you know you could trust her, at least once you do. So many of your problems were solved by her. Just tell them directly, just do this, just do that. And if you didn’t even want to, she’d take your place to show how competent in the field she is, just for you.

As your friends continue with the songs you two can’t capture the lyrics, you slid yourself towards her. “So, how’s the med school?”

She finds the words to answer the completed question for a while. Your other friends are still screaming their lungs out. “It… fucking sucks, yeah, it beat my ass back to high school.” She’d frowned at her script.

“I guess so, I shouldn’t have asked, even. We should talk about light things instead, I’m sor—”

“Don’t be.” Minji cut you off. “It’s fine, I needed a place to vent, anyway.”

The mood, again, swung into glee along with the background. “Oh, so what, Miss Kim, you’re going to use me as your personal venting tool now?”

As if you predicted your future.

“I might, if it doesn’t get better.” She’d snickered at her own comment.

Your expression softens to sympathy. “Well, I’m here. Miss Kim, Go ahead.”

“Really? We can chat about this later, to be fair” She negotiated your offer, not wanting to ruin the mood.

You pondered for a moment, as the song came to an end. “I suppose so, wanna pick the song?”

Minji smiled. “Sure.”

It was these small moments that you kept digging up, even if it is surrounded by smiles and laughs. I wasn’t kind enough to her. I said the wrong things. I was selfish. And it slowly grew into something far more sinister. I am a bad person.

–

“Okay, I’ll post this and tag you all.”

After the group selfie, it was time for you to go back to your regular depression-inducing activities at university.

“I have to get going now. I have class tomorrow morning.” Slightly annoyed by the time restraint, it’s evening now.

“Don’t forget to tag me~” Minji would speak out, playfully, a façade for the fear of being excluded.

“What if I do?” You pointed a finger to your chin.

“I’ll block you, that’s what I’d do”

“Aww, I’d be so sad.” You sarcastically pouted, before giving a farewell, “Bye, babe. Bye, everyone.”, waving.

“See ya.”

That was the last time you’d see her face.

Upon reelings, you can only recall the words as a vague, half-hearted goodbye. Oh how you felt so secure with her back then you just gave some shitty farewell, unbeknownst to how it would stick with you as her final image of you – the fact that has been gripping you tightly ever since.

–

Maybe, in a way, it is to broadcast the insides of your heart to the world. It’s always been what you do best. You found yourself sitting down in front of your laptop, pondering on the word choices. You were walking on a minefield of words, avoiding repetitions that would make your readers groan at such occurrences.

It could’ve been easy - the one who left was the villain, and the one who found you is the typical manic pixie dream girl any man would want. You would boast it when you meet her again, saying something along the lines of “I won the breakup.”, or “Guess who’s crying now.”. It’s quippy, snarky, made-ready, and gives some sense of revenge to the readers, and to you.

It’s not hard to give in to the waning under the half-lit moon; the vengeance is too alluring. Still, perhaps it was that single, small spot in the dark sky - the one that keeps on flickering a signal. And it was decrypted into the ending you didn’t want, acceptance, even if the creeping clouds are slowly curtaining the sky. The star keeps on flickering, to guide you.

And you followed it. The piece didn’t get as much recognition as you’d like, as the grudges were, even if partly, let go, and only mentioned as your thorns. Yet, that day, those spikes were shed, for a new shell to form to protect you from your own hatred.

–

Three: Feels Like

–

Met you at the right time

This is what it feels like

–

You were told that it’s going to be some kind of joint committee between universities. And so, as one of the chosen, you are here, in such rare occasions of being in a suit. It’s tiring - you just got off from your senior project, internship is approaching in a week, right after the Christmas holidays. Yet, being given a few activity hours from your university isn’t a bad offer at the time.

Some classical music you’ve never bothered to look their names up were sent through speakers; they probably couldn’t afford a real band. The grandiose, dimly blue-tinted-lit hall was occupied by hundreds of representatives. Waiters were walking back and forth to corporate demands for the food and drinks. The sounds from all kinds of conversations are lighting this ball up. It’s, from a whim, lively for now.

As always, you felt out of place here. You’ve never been the type that would slot into a conversation with ease. Every word you say might be interpreted as an insult, a showboating of your dull wit. So, silence seemed to be the best choice here. You can’t have people see you as some lowly, dense, out-of-place ordinary guy.

You kept checking your watch, anxiously, it should have been eleven when you were to leave, and time gets slower on purpose. Words around you were slowly, but surely on its way to push you to your edge. There were a couple of people from your university too, just that they were nowhere to be seen. Maybe they are in the toilet? Maybe they can talk to strangers? Maybe they don’t want to be around you?

With every second ticked, an uneasy feeling crept up your body with confidence, eager to take control. Your eyes were stuck to your phone, with right thumb swiping short videos after another. Each one elicited a dopamine shot to keep the shadows at bay, but it could do just that. You know this stuff is going to shave off your attention span bit by bit, but not faltering in front of everyone now just matters more.

Until-

“Sorry.” A stark, yet tender voice shook you, despite its message. You expected someone to come take you into their company, but it’s still a long way to go to get rid of this shell.

You turned your head back until she’s in your vision. A short-haired woman stood before you, around your age; her lips formed a weak grin. Her left hand was holding an empty plate, though with a few hints of red velvet’s frosting on it. “Can I have some more cake?”

Her right hand was in her blazer pocket.

You realized you had been standing in front of the cake stand for the last fifteen minutes. Fuck, this is embarrassing. You immediately moved away from the front table. What if I was seen as some fucker guarding all those cakes?

“What’s with that face?”

“Uh—uh—” Being heavy in your thoughts can sometimes send some erratic, unwanted instructions to your facial features. This Fuck, this is embarrassing ordered the classic eyebrow squints, and a slight mouth frown.

“Are you seriously getting mad because I told you to move a bit?”

Ok, ok, shit, what the fuck is happening now. You were lost, failed to come up with a response. Those doe eyes were sure to be flammable with how you can feel trickles of sweat on your forehead now. First, you were all by yourself in what’s supposed to be a networking opportunity, and then this. This is how you are going to be viewed by these people now, an entitled, selfish asshole. A real chance pulled away from a single mistimed expr—

She pulled you back with her contagious simper. “I’m sorry. I was j—” She broke into another chain of laughter; there’s no reservation in those, like at all. “I was just fucking with you.” She put her right hand to cover her gaping mouth, while swaying her upper half back and forth like it was the funniest shit she has ever pulled.

You may have just felt the largest absolute emotional slope in your life - it doesn’t really matter in terms of good or bad, just closest to being a straight line. You let out a shaken sigh, then, without knowing, you can’t help but start laughing with her in unison.

“God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect you to be s–so anxious about that.” The hilarity subsided, as she was starting to regain her composure.

You replied with some remnants of the previous guffawing. “It’s fi—ha, ha, it’s fine.” Still taking in what’s just happened.

You finally got a proper look at her. And on that exact night you first met, she wore a gray blazer, perfectly compatible with her decent height, just a few inches shorter than you – did she get it tailored? The navy wide-leg pants she had on her really gave her this “young and rising executive” look. Her short hair was a bit messy, probably from all the walking and talking she had while finishing that poor red velvet cake.

Her nose was supposed to be the part that had you gawked, with how its bridge was flawlessly sculpted while still fitting with every other part on her face. And with the crimson lipstick on her plump lips, those features alone, perhaps, had Aphrodite working overtime.

Then, just a bit above those, her hazel eyes, the ones that will have you gladly trapped in it for hours. The sunsets you will be sharing is going to be reflected in her eyes, as you bring your face closer to hers, to realize that she’ll be the person you can, and want to spend the rest of your life with.

(We still need to come back to the first night though. You haven’t gotten much more of her personality than that joke.)

“So, aren’t you going out and talking to someone?” She asked, her right hand using the cake server to pick up the lone chocolate one in the center of the table.

“Well, uh, it’s kinda hard to explain” You gestured your hands into an “I don’t know” pose, moving them up and down a little to imitate a weighing scale, as if you know what’s on both sides.

She puts on her curious face, staring straight into your eyes, trying to pry out an answer. “Try me”

You tried to hit back with your straight face, ready to not give in to her request, but to no avail. Her stare was getting even more intimidating. God, that gaze is strong.

“Fine.” You replied, as she giggled with her victory.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” She furrowed her eyebrows. She really looks like a confused bear with that face.

“Never have the courage to do it.”

“Well, you look like you have enough to talk to me.” She cuts the chocolate cake with her fork, before putting the piece into her mouth.

“That’s because you’re the one initiating.”

“Oka—“ She tried to reply with a stuffed mouth, but the content was still too big. She chewed it a bit more with her right hand covering her mouth, the other putting a stop sign on you. “Okay? And am I wrong for doing that?”

“No! I—“ Her right hand moved to her waist; she was burning you with her eyes, cheeks still moving. It is important that you don’t say the wrong words here. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome~” She twisted the last syllable into a melody, before letting out a cute giggle. “I’m Haewon by the way. And sorry for fucking with you a little too much.” She offered a handshake, which you reluctantly accepted.

You suspected that there’s something weird with her then, with how chatty she was with you. Who would be going around, talking like this to other people?

It turned out a few years later that you’re the weird one.

“Aren’t you supposed to have some friends with you?” Haewon continues her pressing on you.

Shrugged, “Yeah, but I lost them like an hour ago, so—", as you fanned your eyes around for the umpteenth time of the night. The crowd rumbled, but still no sight of your peers. “I really have nowhere to go.”

Haewon kept switching her gaze between you and the crowd, as if to make more topics and banters out of it.

“You wanna join?” Haewon finally locked you within her sight; her thumb pointed away, into the uncertainty of the crowd.

“Uh—"

It’s one of the few times you picked the right choice, even if it was clear as day.

“Let’s go then”

Joy gleamed her face, “Great, follow me”

Along with Haewon, you walked with her into the crowd. You bumped into some people who are apathetic to your action, and some even give you an understanding look, unbothered by your mistakes. The classical music blaring around seems to calm everyone down.

You’d finally reached a group of similarly-dressed students. “Welcome back Haewon, what took you so long?” One of them muttered out.

“Him.” Haewon replied, while looking at you and beams a smile.

–

Four: Cutie

–

Woke up in your orbit

Now where do I start?

–

Eighth wonder of the world: how the fuck can you secure a date with the royalty, Oh Hae-Won. You were aware – made known by her friends teasing you during a few group dates, knowing how Haewon has been spending a lot of time on her phone lately, too often with a grin on her face.

“Hey” Haewon appears behind you in a sudden, voices in your head are now scattered.

A little shocked, “Hey”.

White tee, brown, modern crossbody bag on her shoulder, light navy jeans, hair a little shorter from that day, topped wi—

“Haiyah!” Haewon calls out, snapping you out of your trance. “You’re doing that again, aren’t you.”

“Doing what?” You replied, hoping she didn’t notice your pondering, borderline ogling on her choice of garments.

“Thinking.” She taps her head lightly. “Like you were being hypnotized or something.”

Rebuttal, “No, I wasn’t?”, and your eyebrows are marred.

“Yes, you were. And the first time I met you was also like this; you were lost in your head, and staring at me like you were trying to gauge something out of me.” She retorts with an arrogant chuckle.

“Alright, alright, fine, I’m a daydreamer, and what’s the problem with that?” You deflect the guilt. Shit, what the fuck did I say?

“Well—" Haewon nibbles her chin while finding the word. “People don’t really like being stared at, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s a fair point, my bad.” The people pleaser inside you got the better of the debater.

“Hey, look, let me give you some advice.” Determination sparks in her eyes, her hands holding on to the string. “Don’t think, just—do it, or feel it, you know.” You aren’t quite sure how to play along with her words. “The reason I’m here today is because I see something in you, and I’m sure you see something under this pretty face.”

And it’s true, Haewon sparks a sense of an adventurer inside you, even if they’re through internet lines. She brings up quite a number of places in the city you’ve never even heard the name of, and thinking of the list is, to say the least, nauseating. But under the boulder, your determination to match her venturesome nature isn’t crushed after all.

“You’re speaking like one of those life coaches, you know.” You sarcastically reply with a chuckle.

“It’s called encouragement, get used to it.” She nicks your shoulder softly. “Shall we start the walk?”

“Sure.”

–

You two stride along the road, catching the sight of other sightseers, both local and foreign. Graffitis are etched into the walls by your sides, interspersed with numerous coffee shops aimed to lure gen z customers with their furnishings. And one seems to work on you guys, because you now have an iced thai tea, while Haewon has a matcha latte, also iced.

“So.” You cut the silence, taking a sip of your content. “Are you here often?” It’s one of the more “talky” questions you can think of right now. Your head slightly turns towards her; your eyes during the rest (more than half actually) of the work to catch her in the bullseye of your vision.

“This is just my second time, to be honest.” She replies, drinking her matcha. “And I love how these buildings look; they probably look gorgeous on your camera, don't they?”

“It’s a good substitute for my Tokyo needs.” You scoff, scanning over the old houses around you.

“Oh yeah, those photos did look breathtaking, I can see why.” She brings up the photos from over a year ago, letting out a tiny smile in the process. “I’ve been to Osaka once actually.”

Surprised, “Osaka? How come you haven’t told me this already?”, she has never brought it up during the six months you’ve known each other.

“I can’t describe it as well as you, really.” Haewon looks down, still strolling at the same pace as before. “Plus, it was just for a project. We didn’t have much time for sightseeing.” She mutters out, eyes fixated on the ground.

“I think it would be fun, please?” A chortle escapes you, thinking it would let her know your enthusiasm.

It’s quite a clear day for a rainy season - hints of white clouds here and there, but never enough to rage against your first date. You two remain at a distance, still, leaving a gap between your shadows.

“No, no, you even laughed at the idea of it, I won’t tell you that.” She calls you out, whimpering as the sentence ends.

The next thirty seconds go by in silence, the two of you keep glancing at each other, evading contact at any signals. People pass you by as you walk, widening the distance between the tip of your fingers. Guilt, fear, uncerta–

“I won’t laugh again, I promise.” You give her an assurance, and that’s the best you can do.

“Really?” She looks up at you, catching your honest compassion.

“If it’s funny, I might.” You chuckle. “But I’m sure it was a good experience for you.”

“Thanks.” You lit up a grin on her face, as she’s getting all excited to tell you about her adventure.

“So, this was like three years ago, back when I had just finished my freshman year, it was a subway surveying thing.” Haewon starts her tale, with you two turning left, now walking to the river. “I went with a group of people, and it was mostly lecturing around the tracks, really.” She chuckles. “So we had just the evening for ourselves for like, a week.”

“We went to a firework festival on the first day. God, it was so fucking crowded, but the sparking lights looked spectacular. They did the color work well.” As she tells the story, you can’t help but get immersed in the words. There’s clarity in the way she recounts it, greatly assisted with how often she says “flickering”, “cold”, “bright”, “exhausting”, “overwhelming”, and much, much more.

“The wagyu just melted in my mouth.”

“The system was confusing, to be honest, like a spider’s web, but they helped me with that a lot.”

“Yeah, it was fucking cold, and I brought so many shorts because I underestimated late spring Osaka.”

You two walk past some more old buildings and a few more cafes, with her story as the melody. It sweeps your leg like a damn good movie. How vivid the atmosphere she’s enamoring you in, how she’s so enthusiastic in her reminiscence, and how she grins and narrows her eyes upon any mention of food.

After a while, the river is finally in your view, as she’s getting through her final day at Marble Beach.

“I pulled a friend I made there to see the beach with me, and he said that it changed his life.” She laughs. “It was beautiful, you really should see it.”

A soft smile escapes you. “Well, I kinda get him, really.” You two finally reach the cement barrier, heighting just on your hips. It’s not too short that Haewon would have to throw a life ring to you, yet not too tall to obstruct your river view, enough for you to rest your arms on it as if you’re posing.

“Yeah, the Odaiba Beach, right? I saw the photos, once you mentioned that.”

[More dialogue]

–

“How far is your stop?”

“Four stations.”

“Wow, I’m on six, then interchange to another four.” She sighs at the daunting route, knowing she’d be alone.

The carriage slightly shakes as it takes a small turn. Sight of people are only a few; both of you are holding onto a pole in the middle. You’re gathering all the willpower to keep your weak hand from falling onto hers.

Haewon is looking out the window in the same direction as you, eyes examining the view outside - nocturne. “Have you ever gotten bored of this?” She asks, turning her sight to face you still looking out along.

You ponder for a moment. “It looks pretty at night.”

“That’s true, but it’s not the question.” She replies. “And the way you talk is strange, you know that? Especially with how you answer questions”

“Probably from watching a lot of movies, I guess.” You deflect.

“See? You did it again!” She points at you, unbeknownst to the inadvertently closing distance between your hands on the pole. “It’s not a peeve or anything, really, but I see that you always answer yes-no questions with a reason, not directly yes or no.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve got this complaint a bit often. I have to say the same thing twice, or even thrice to a lot of people.” You reply.

“They probably expect a yes or no, perhaps?” Haewon ends the playful nudge with a chuckle. “I don’t mind though; I can catch your words.”

You can only smile in response. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to do that for a while.” You laugh, in a volume that wouldn’t make it echo inside the whole train.

“Woah, getting daring just being with me for a day? I’m having a good influence on you~” Haewon playfully takes a jab.

“You’ll have a lot of influ–” You pause. “That’s the same joke, yeah, that’s the same joke, I’m not saying it.”

She laughs, not quite as contained as yours, attracting a few looks onto you. “Yeah, I’ll see my schedule first.” Her laughter would dissolve into a smile. “I think I can sort out a few things for us.”

Us. You can melt right here and now. The way she says it so easily is just too attractive. What does she think of me? Are we a thing now? Should I kiss her?

“U—Us?” You stutter out, mind flayed.

Haewon is locked onto her calendar. “Yeah, I know I’m not that good at planning but—” She meets your eyes. “Oh.”

[You are blushing and there’s going to be a kiss at the end of this chapter.]

–

Five: Party Police

–

You don’t have to leave

You can just stay here with me

Forget all the party police

We can find comfort in debauchery

= = =

The sound of the air conditioner fills the room, emulsified with your anticipation, forming a perfect cadence. The air between you is a mixture of both minty breaths you insisted the two of you to take a spearmint candy, the gender-neutral-honey-scented body wash both of you used in separate shower sessions, and the summer breeze air purifier Haewon bought from your first trip to the convenience store together.

You two are inside her room, sitting on the queen-sized bed, hands clutched between the hole your tangled legs make.

Haewon’s lips are slightly parted, as if their owner is about to make out a sound, yet the whirring fan blows any of her half-thought intentions away. And instinctually, to which you realized a few blinks later, yours are also making their own gap, and the whirring fan blows any of your half-thought intentions away.

“I—" Haewon would be the first to stabilize her frequency, ever so mildly fluctuated by your proximity. “I love you.” She can only confirm it in a whisper, barely vibrating the dormant air around you.

Yet, it seeps in, perhaps by the sincere nature in her voice. Haewon has never looked this fragile before, and your next move can actually ignite her neurons with blue flame this time.

“I—I love you t—too.” Flushed, presto heart rhythm, you muttered out these simple words. Resting air now shook with the expressions.

You’ve kissed her many times before, the end of the first date, the middle of the second date, the start of the third date, then a full on make out session during one of The Academy’s International Film nominees, with an unknowing crowd in the theater (it helps that the movie is quite a rare action triumph, so that the wet smooches of your lips are buried under clips after clips being unloaded, and the bullet cases clanking on the floor). Though, never once has it ended with her uncontrollably uttering fucks or shits, or even deity names neither above nor under you.

Haewon starts to lean closer to you, wholeheartedly knowing that this won’t be a normal kiss. Her head tilts so acutely, barely deviated from the axis. The small, deep hum from her throat is unexpected, with her eyelids closed and all. Yet, who are you to say no to her proclamation of love.

The expectations are high, yours, hers, on this kiss to capture much more than your lips. It’s both of your first times after all. And with the contact, you can’t help but match her tone in lovestruck. Hands are still stationed, too afraid to take this further, until they aren’t yours that touches a face first. Haewon fondles your cheeks with both of her hands as the kiss ensues, persuading you to reciprocate, and you do.

Fervor rises along the ticks of all the clocks, Haewon pierces the gap you opened with her tongue, invading your mouth. You gasp in shock, signaling her to break off from the session.

“Shit, are you okay?” Haewon’s eyes enlarged, her breathing still out of rhythm.

Giggling, “No, no, no, just a little shocked, let’s continue”, as you initiate the action this time, hands holding her cheeks, tongue sweeping the insides of her mouth.

Again, fervor rises along the ticks of all the clocks, the sound of the kiss becomes the only thing you can hear now. It’s wet, a little salty, albeit ardent, and rapturous.

And with an unknown source of bravery, your hand traverses down from her cheeks, grazing her neck. Haewon hums a minim into your throat as your fingers hit the ridge of her chest. And through the fabric, you give her left mound a squeeze, eliciting another two-beat note from her. Tender, addictive are the first few words as your fingers sink into the cloth, and the desire arises.

Your voice, muffled through the kiss, and raspy in hunger, asks such a bold question. “Fuck, God, Haewon, may I suck on them?”

Haewon would hum another note into your mouth, before unlatching from the torrid endeavor. “Make me moan, and don’t use your teeth.” She commands.

It’s all instinctual now, don’t think, just feel echoes. You playfully push Haewon onto the bed, eyes focus on your targets. The rhythm of her ragged breaths now takes over the room.

You run your hands down her luscious curves, feeling every hill and hollow on the fabric, before hitting an edge. ”May I?” As you grab the hem of her shirt, so eager to expose her.

”Of course, babe”

Permission granted, you swiftly pull the edge of her garment up, with her putting her arms up for easy exposure. The stream of the sight of her somewhat toned midriff, perky chest, and collarbones runs through your eyes, and it’s almost too heavy to take it in. “Fuck.” And you can only give a profanity for it.

“I know, right?” She responds, chuckling.

Magnetized, and sudden, your lips latch onto her left, brown peak, coating her breast with your saliva. She complies with your action under you, letting out a symphony whenever your mouth is right at the top of her areola, right before leaving, then swallowing it again.

The buds, excited, erect under your touch. This seems to go on for minutes. You keep switching between her left and right mounds, one hand kneading the mound that isn’t currently savored, with the other traversing her upper body, marking every square inch as yours. You won’t get bored of this easily, especially with her moaning this loud.

“More, baby, more” Haewon pleads. Her hands start to push your head onto her erect nipples now.

If you’re going to be honest, it tastes just like any other part of a human body: skin, with some honey aroma after the shower. Perhaps it’s desire, perhaps it’s ardor, or perhaps it’s love, maybe all of them together, you were drawn to them. Her writhing cries only fuel the attraction further, and the force you use with your lips.

Until–

“Fuck, fuck–, yeah.” She whines. “That–That’s good, but I want more now, baby.” Haewon mutters in the same pitch as her moans, unable to retain her usual deep tone. “You seem to– love my tits– a lot, don’t you.” Her talking is constantly cut short to make ways for the ragged breaths.

“Twenty-one years of drought, babe” You chuckle, turning your head to face hers, chin hovering above her hard nubs.

“You wanna use your mouth or your dick, huh?” Slightly annoyed, yet excited, and perhaps too lecherous that she comes off as a horny cutie joke bear. “I gotta cum first, or at the same time with you, isn’t it” She seems to be aware of how your body works, and she’s right. You don’t wanna risk being unable to get yourself up again within five minutes, while she waits, unattended.

”Damn, babe, you’ve come prepared.”

”No?, I’m gonna come with you here!” She lets out another laughter, breaking the lustful mood a bit. God, she just can’t go a minute without making a joke. Her pursuit in digging any giggles out just kills you every time, even if that means the problems were hardly addressed, tingling a small part of you on the occurrences.

You sink into the glee with her. “Oh fu— fuck off babe.” But this lustful tryst just drives you into a whirlpool right now. You quickly dispose of your shorts (why the fuck would you guys even wear clothes if you’re just going to fuck after???), freeing your delirious digit.

“God.” Haewon stares at your erect cock in awe, twitching, a glint of concern in her eyes. You wouldn’t say that it’s exactly big, but it’s enough to make her gulp. “Do I have to take all of this?”

“I’ll push slowly.” You replied, panting from the brimming anticipation.

Without a word, Haewon yanks her shorts away. Another stream of her eden, thighs, and the full lower body strikes you. And Haewon is now bare in front of you, glowing, despite her cheap light hanging above. You want to cherish this moment forever, freeze it in time, or at least just slow down a bit. Oh Hae-Won trusts you enough to expose herself, fully, in front of you. And you aren’t sure which gesture can compare to this as her proclamation of love (maybe a marriage proposal, but let’s not get into that yet).

“I thought you’d do it slower”

“All that foreplay got me so fucking turned on, babe, plus, I’m not on the shy side.”

“The nipple sucking?”

“Yeah, that meal you just had. Also, take off that shirt, I wanna feel all of you.”

Ordered, you hastily get rid of the last piece of garment, tossing it into the void, following your shorts. Both of you are now fully naked, only the cold, compressed air is your barrier now.

“Good, now come here” She says with a wink, provocative, commanding, yet so greedy. Haewon is resting on her back, with her elbows lifting her abdomen just a little from the bedsheet, enough to face you without much eye movement, smiling with desire. She bends her left leg a little, and it drives you crazy.

Fuck, she’s the most beautiful woman in the world, perhaps ranked among the gods: Hera, Artemis, Athena, Hestia, and Haewon’s victory is a certainty. She can even go bar for bar against Aphrodite, her own creator, under this cheap room lamp. And you can’t just wait to be tied to this lady with her deity-defying charm with such an intimate act.

“You want my cock that bad, Miss Oh?” You slowly, to make it a tease, slide your knees against the bedsheet towards Haewon, getting closer to her, inch by inch. Haewon opens her leg, giving you permission and space to be in her proximity. Her eden is now in view, glistened with arousal.

“There’s just this thing, ma’am, that I wanna take a sample of first.” Playfulness is attached in your message. She’s still on her elbows, heads slightly tilted at your defiance, as if you also have a god-challenging act in your pocket as well. And with some more inspection, it’s apparent that Haewon isn’t a firm believer in having cleanly-shaved hair, and somehow, this kind of nature just drives you into a frenzy.

“And what is it, mister?” Haewon asks, still with seduction, eyes locking on yours.

“You.” And without another word, you dive face first onto her wet, needy sex. Your nose is pressed against her mound, pubic hair brushes against it, but the “distraction” never succeeds in repelling you away. Further, it feeds the ferocity inside you to take in her scent, with a deep breath. With the sight alone, you thought you reached your limit, yet, spellbound under her musk, a hint of sweat, the honey-scented body wash, and her mildly tart aroma from the inside sends you into a literal mind break, like a morning coffee. Haewon is fucking addictive, and you can’t go a single day without her smell.

“She s–smells good, doesn’t s–she?” Her voice starts to quiver again, as your nose tickles her hair.

Meanwhile, your tongue, with a mind of its own, is lapping up her nectar, savoring the salty, tangy taste of her canal. Her sensitive nub, the one you’re sure it’s clitoris, is now stuck in your philtrum. Every swipe just grazes it, eliciting squeals from her.

“F–fuck.” Haewon cries out, starting to get lost in her immediate pleasure, “Ah.”, and your enthusiasm. “Just f-five minutes babe.”

Mouth busy in a sinful act, you hum an affirmative note out. Her vagina is now coated with your saliva, mixed with her lubricant. And with each time you pull yourself out, there’s sometimes a string of the cocktail connecting your lips to her sex - a thread between you and her.

At first, it’s a savoring session of her taste, for you, but as her wailing grows louder, you can only be curious about the limit. And without hesitation, you give her clitoris a brush - the same way you suck her nipple. As your lips contact, delicate, her moans would reach such a forte to the point you’re quite sure that everyone in the dorm would be able to hear.

Conspiring her frustration, “Want a few more, babe?”, you retreat your ministrations to her pale thighs, making a few marks here and there, robbing the pleasure that was once hers.

“Fuck you.” Haewon groans out. “Please, keep eating my pussy, please.”

You bring your fingers into play, caressing her inner trunks. And, with instinct, you slip yourself under her ass. Your eyes are still locking on her wet hole, and she seems to gush out streams of honey now. “Y–You are f–fucking insuf–” She moans out as you relentlessly withholding the release she deserves.

“Can’t hear with my hands under your ass, babe” It’s as if something possessed you into a womanizer, a shot of complacency.

Haewon would be able to muster up her remaining inhibition to define you with an adjective. “I–Insufferable.”

“That’s a little mean.” Your hands give her firm butt a squeeze, feeling the soft flesh. This is probably how Indiana Jones felt when he got his hand on the golden idol: like an ascendant. “Considering how soft your ass is.” You lick just beside the spot, motioning parallel to the pink labia.

Haewon groans in frustration, climax stolen by a thief. “Sh–shut the fuck up and put that tongue to use!” In forte, all the pent up energy can crush you into bits and pieces in minutes, while you are still drawing circles around your supposed target, pushing her to the edge of wrath, right before it turns into destruction. “FUCK!”

You are actually scared of her now, and perhaps the complaints of her neighbors about some tenant bossing a guest around in the nocturne. So, complying, you put your tongue to use, taking another sample of the mixture, tasting her and yourself again.

“Good boy, yeah, like that.” She whimpered out, being put back en route to paradise.

Constant pace, don’t go too fast. You tell yourself an advice you’ve read somewhere years ago, and you do as it says. You try to keep the speed the same, but it’s starting to get harder as Haewon decides that she needs something to hold on to, which is, unfortunately, your head. I once had a guy go too fast when I told him I’m gonna cum, and that was the ride down, my mood died completely. A comment you’ve seen somewhere pops up.

Your jaw can never get tired, if it is to devour her into ecstasy. But the force pressed upon your head is starting to be a double-edged sword to her, a place to hold on to, and the act that might close the golden gate.

The five minutes she gave earlier might come into use.

“B—babe.” You cry out between licks, voice muffled. “I wanna use my cock now.”

Haewon lets go of the grip she has in your hair locks, as she looks down from her lying position. “Really?” Expectations running high, she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” She thwarts her arm along the bed for a little while, a little lost, until she catches her colorful spot-covered pillow. And without any word, you help Haewon lift her hips up to insert the fluffy object below, bringing her puckered hole into your focus.

Tranced, “Can I taste it?” the words fell out without any restrictions.

“Don’t fucking kiss me again if you do; I don’t wanna taste my asshole.” Haewon commands, trying to regain her composure. “Maybe another day.”

You whine out. “Ugh, fine.” Before getting on your knees for the main event.

You use her spread thighs as a handle while aiming with your eyes. You line up your twitching digit on the center, resting it on her now-swollen clit. And a small whimper from Haewon would reach your ear, fueling your fire.

“You want this inside you, huh?” You tease, sliding your shaft against her core from the outside, glazing yourself with her honey resting on the nub.

“Fuck… yeah, I—I want it inside.” Haewon chokes out at your heavenly connection; her attempt at putting any façade is crumbling.

Slowly, your rod still above her center, you traverse your hands up her immaculate legs, onto her stomach. Her breaths are now short, out of any earlier rhythm, as your touch starts to overwhelm her senses. “F—fuck.” You’d only move upwards, creeping up her beautiful chest, until they are up for your hands to conquer. She’s yours now.

Now, you have her tits as a grip, ever so carefully fondling them while slowly juggling the movements: your hands squeezing, your hip thrusting, and your upper body leaning in to see her giving in closer and closer. It’s all there, eyes fluttering, lips shaking, loud moaning, and her whole firm frame writhing under you.

You aren’t going in for a kiss, really, but she forces you nonetheless. Hands gripping the sides of your head, Haewon would scream from the overstimulation, all restricted in your mouths, into you, letting out any control she has left.

“Babe.” You mutter out. And even slightly distorted by fervor, she’d break off from the locks under your voice.

Mouth agape, she looks into your eyes, using the final bit of her inhibition to predict your next words. “You can put it in, baby.” And you can only smile.

You guide your rod down to her engine, but neither of you has ever been more ready to ignite the moans. Your left hand has her thigh on the same side as a handle.

Wet, indeed, she welcomes you. The excessive preparation gives easy access, and you become the same groaning lump as she was, swallowed by rapture. In the wake of bliss, you tilt your head down until the sight of your disappearing cock is in the frame, inch by inch.

The insides of her tighten when you reach halfway, and you can feel your tip grazing a rough patch. “Fuck!” Haewon’s body tenses up, and she lets out a higher note than usual. You also pitch a sound lower than hers, but also noticeably higher than your regular octave.

You slowly bury yourself up to the hilt, now able to let go of your flesh. Haewon stutters a moan out when your patch makes contact with her.

“S–Seems like you can handle all of me, babe.” Your voice is quivering, without any movement to your body. You keep yourself whole with her.

Haewon can only whimper in response.

“I-I’ll start fucking you now.” You say as you start to grind your hips back. Haewon nods, giving you the right to control the pace.

Your cock, at an agonizing speed, comes back into view. You can feel the muscles inside gripping you and how the rough patch grazes the top of your digit, evoking staccatos from her. God, anyone would kill to be in your position right now.

And at the halfway point, it’s where you push back in again, still carefully. Haewon surrenders any power she has now, with her g-spot being pleasured by another person for the first time. The suffocating squeeze she has on you persists, sending waves of pleasure around your dick.

It becomes a loop: retreat and thrust, retreat and thrust, and you finally find your rhythm. It’s ecstatic - the way her flesh embraces you. You repay her accommodation with a little angling, aiming for the sensitive patch in the second step. Both of you are lost now, blinded by the passionate endeavor you’re engaging in.

Haewon’s brain can only register euphoria, howling as your tip brushes against the g-spot. And you are no better, bucking hips back and forth, chasing your release while huffing out such notes you could hit before the existence of your Adam’s apple. The only concern now is that your roller coaster would reach its peak before hers.

“Hey, I t–think I’m gonna c–cum now.” Haewon’s words came out tattered, divided by exaltations in her groans. It's a heaven’s message, as you can also feel your climax close by.

Keep your pace; don’t go faster.

You make no attempt to go rougher with your drilling; she’s already a blushing, wailing mess under Allegro Vivace. You can also feel a knot starting to form inside of you, begging to be untangled. “M–Me too, babe.”

Haewon’s moans become even louder than the oral session minutes ago; her orgasm is close by. You can feel the way her vagina contracts around your movements, and you aren’t far from it, either.

Two lost souls search for intimacy, and they eventually find each other. And the mistakes they’ve made don't matter anymore. The people they’ve passed through, either able to find solace or dissonance, have become nothing more than a plot device to drive them forward, for them to meet. And even if the future remains clouded, it’s just them at this exact moment, becoming each other’s sanctuary.

“FUCK!” Haewon cries out. As her hip convulses, bending your digit slightly. She pulls her legs back, feet touching her pale ass before they go up in the air. Haewon cums, violent, ferocious, cathartic. Her whole body tenses up; her tits are shaking. Her walls tighten around you, begging to milk every upcoming drop of you until dry.

You take in the view but can only register a few words to describe how you feel right now: fuck, and god. She screams from the top of her lungs to accommodate such pleasure. And isn’t it a symphony that’s so pleasing to hear, knowing that they are products of your doings?

Haewon’s breathing starts to slow down, but seeing how she becomes undone beneath, you quicken your thrusts to chase the high you’re anticipating. “Fuck!” Under sensitivity, Haewon squeals.

“Do you want me to slow down, babe? I can still cum no matter the pace.” With care, you ask.

“I–I wanna t–try.” Her syllables come out in stutters, “Keep going.”, as your length rams into her cunt even faster than before her high.

You keep your fast, lively tempo, and that seems to be the right choice. You can play the melody faster, yet you already fail to register all the fucks and shits, Haewon mutters out while being pounded. You’re guided by your intuition at this point. It builds up inside your stomach, calling to be broken free. You feel your legs wobbling like jello, and your awareness of whether there’s any left, opposite Haewon’s, has left your body already.

And with a single, final thrust, “FUCK!” you bend yourself down to capture her lips, screeching all the satisfaction from your high into her mouth. Spurts of cum released into her welcoming cunt, while you basically buried yourself inside her, twitching under orgasm. Haewon moans into your mouth at each of your vibrations. Lustful, your tongues are swirling inside each other’s mouth, tasting each other as much as you can.

Thick cum is still discharged into her, painting her insides with white. And slowly, you start to slide down from the precipice. Your cock still twitches inside her cunt; the remaining cum only dribbles out from the hardness now. The kiss remains magnetic; you two are too hungry for each other. You can only taste the mint candy from earlier.

Finally, it breaks, a string of saliva connects your lips together, as both of you are bathed in the afterglow. Haewon’s face is drenched from her own sweat, panting, and smiling. “I love you.” She mouths, trying to make sense of her heart rhythm, soft breaths touching your face.

You’re still panting, attempting to take in her words. Even if they’re the same as from the beginning, when the clothes are still barriers between you, it sears you this time. A lock has been solved, yet you are still questioning the contents inside the box.

Then, you realize that it’s your heart, “I love you too, babe.”, and it can explode right here. Love floods, lust flows, binding you two together, in the vast sea of possibilities.

Haewon smiles before pulling you into another kiss. This one is much less passionate than the ones preceding, but it’s, nonetheless, affectionate. The way she captures your lips is too confident for you to be unsure about the attachment she gives you, and that might be the first time in your life that you’re so certain of someone else’s love, and her name is Oh Hae-Won.

Exhausted and spent, you let yourself fall onto her side, looking up. Your left arm is resting on her collarbones. “Fuck.” Your vocabulary seems to shrink under ecstasy as the cadence rings too loud for you to think properly.

“That was fun.” Haewon scoffs, before turning her bare frame towards you, head resting on her hand. “We should do this more often.”

“Should? I’m fucking you everywhere, babe.” You reaffirm with a simper.

“Shit.” Haewon chuckles before seeming to remember something. She quickly gets up from the bed. “I’ll go pissing first. It’s this–”

“UTI. Yeah, I’ve read about it.” You cut her off to show off your knowledge of sex education. “Can we cuddle after?” You plead, attempting to make a cute face.

“Sure.” She laughs, pointing at you. “If you don’t mind having your back getting a bit wet.”, and you can only smile back at her. Haewon would saunter out to her bathroom with a slight limp, managing to sway her reddened cheeks. Fuck.

And despite the low light, you can see drops of your cum, dribbling a shine down her legs. “Are you going to clean th–”

“No.” She winks before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving a trail of nectar in her path.

You bite your lip in another rise of your arousal.

–

You hear the sound of tap water running from inside the bathroom before the lock clicks. Haewon appears in front of your eyes again, still naked.

“I kept the promise.” She says.

Immediately, still on her bed, you press your vision down her body. Her pussy remains glistened with your white cum, mixed with her tangy lubricant. Perhaps your saliva is also blended into the liquid.

“God, Haewon.” Again, your mind goes blank. “It has been just five minutes. I really can’t do that.”

Haewon chuckles, swaying her alluring hips closer to you. “I know.” Before she pounces you on the bed, staining the sheets with your fluids. Haewon prints a few kisses here and there, usually in the proximity of your lips and neck. And, in disbelief, you watch over her body to see that the five-minute gap is enough for your cock to be ready again.

“Fuck.”

Haewon’s glance follows yours to your erection.

“Another round, babe?”

–

Six: Just Another Girl

–

Now why can’t I sleep at night?

And why don’t the moon look right?

–

Sunlight peeks through the gap in your curtains, casting on the blanket that’s covering any visual hints of last night’s debauchery. Her arms retain their restrictive nature, an environment you’d enthusiastically enlist for. Her fingers barely interlocking on your heart, feeling the thrumming lullaby she holds on to like the greatest hits.

Her chest is pressed against your back, and the fact that you notice this (and how you savored their peaks last night with such unbeatable hunger) only entices your morning wood to last longer than it should’ve. You snuggle into her embrace further, establishing yourself as hers and pressing yourself into her perky breasts even harder, wanting to feel every inch of them.

“Hmm?” Haewon finally wakes up, fading her tightness wrapped around you.

Slightly panicked, you grab her escaping hand onto your warm skin. “Hey.” And you greeted her.

Haewon chuckles. “Oh, this boy needs a hug, huh?”

You close your eyes and hum in agreement, since her embrace becomes another gesture you’ve grown to love now, even if it was discovered just a few minutes ago.

“How was last night, my baby boy?” She questioned you with a tiny simper.

You can only chuckle along. “Cathartic, babe, but I’m not doing the whole mommy thing right now.”

Haewon laughs. “Okay, fine, I’ll ask you properly later, though.”

The cuddle went on for minutes. You are unwilling to let her go after such intimacy you had. After a while, you notice the scar on your chest. This may be the time you show her, but you need bravery. And you’re not sure if love could muster it up.

[A paragraph demonstrating Haewon’s good influence on you and how you’ve influenced her]

“I wanna tell you something, with us being this bare and such.” You gathered a little courage to speak up, adamantly attempting to show her your so-called scar.

Haewon would let out a tiny chuckle at your cheap joke. “Unload them to me, babe.” She lets out another tiny chuckle, resting her head on a makeshift stand of her fist. You can’t help but join along with her.

“Oh my god, fuck you.” You said, along with a laugh.

“You just did.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll start now, don't distract me this ti—" You let out a small giggle, as she’s still soaked in her own hilarity. “It’s like seven years of story; trust me, it’s more fun than you’d think.”

“Seven years? Is it like, a long-term heartbreak or something, and what’s with you making everything into a story, catastrophic or not.” Haewon asks.

“Well—” You contemplate - whether to spoil the ending for her or not, but she can probably guess by the way you purposefully hold out the information in lieu of instantly answering. “Seven years ago, in late April, I just started high school.”

You can see the late morning sunlight reflected in her eyes, single-minded on your tale.

“You want me to close the curtains first?” You direct your thumb toward the gap.

“No need, plus, you look better with the light.” She smiles, sincerity can be felt from it, maybe it’s the way the light drapes on your right half of her face.

“Thanks, babe, okay, where was I— Yeah, seven years ago, late April, high school.”

–

“And then I met you.”

“You know that you’re the asshole in this one, right?” Haewon hits you with such a question.

Certainty of a weeping eluded, “Fuck, not even a single tear?”

“Wow, this lack of self-awareness is concerning, babe, and this is out of love.” She scoffs. “You’re the bad guy here.”

“Look, I’ve been telling myself about the same statement since that day, so yeah, Haewon, I’m aware that I’m the asshole in this story.”

“Were you hurt by it or something?” Haewon asks with genuine curiosity, she caught the sadness in your tone, yet unable to make sense of it. Her head remains resting on her fist, albeit making a ninety degrees apart from you.

“I— yeah, I know it was my fault, but—“ You avert her gaze, staring at the blanket covering her midriff. “It was five years, almost. And it still hurts sometimes whenever I see something that reminds me of her.”

Haewon would give you a blank expression; her next words are unpredictable.

“I kinda— get the idea? You can’t deal with college life, so she becomes a–no, the source for you to vent shit. And one day, it became too much, with that fight making it wor–no, apparent.” It’s nothing short of incredible that she gets all of it within the first iteration and gives you the much-needed feedback (even if you’ve already considered this possibility).

“And she wants you to get better. She didn’t think she could be the person you could rely on anymore. This is how I see it.” With ease, Haewon recounts the most plausible explanation, the one you’ve been avoiding accepting.

“Yeah, it’s…” You resist the urge to argue with her point, realizing that such emotional manipulation cannot work. Perhaps the amount of self-awareness poured in just doesn’t work anymore. “You’re right.”

“There’re some points that I… kinda understand you? Like the whole being insecure stuff, but all of this is just a shitshow, babe. You even write a fic about it.” A tiny simper leaves her mouth.

“Spielberg made a film about his parent’s divorce; Taylor Swift has, well…”

“Steven’s was like… sixty years? And I think Taylor can be an asshole, to be honest, aside from All Too Well.” Haewon replied without a delay.

“Agree to disagree.” You can only sigh afterward, and maybe it’s the way your breath taps on her chest more heavily than it should or the way you avert the eye contact you’ve been maintaining.

“Hey, are you okay?” Her doe eyes hints concern, while the fingers lightly caress your cheek.

Destined, your tears well up just a little, but enough for you to detect and hold back. “Kinda.”

Haewon lets out a sigh, the back of her free fingers still fondling your cheek. “I’m sure you’ve changed.”

“It's been more than two years now.” Your lips quiver. “B–But telling you here, it’s just…”

Like the first time with your therapist, like the first time you tell your colleagues, your tears are always on the hinge as the story ends.

“I know I can’t fix it - this whole weird love-hate relationship of yours.” She finally sits up. “But I know you aren’t the person you were.” Your cheeks are suddenly cupped by both of her hands. “And as long as you… try to be better, I’ll be with you.” Haewon ends her speech with a caring look.

Nothing in her deliverance is poetry-worthy; they’re basic quotes you’d find in the self-help books. Though, the words not coming from some self-centered guy melts the cynic inside you, and that’s when tears start to fall.

“I also know that it hurts, even if you’re the one who’s wrong.” She softly cheers up.

Through the sobs, “Y–You’re quite di–direct, babe.” You try to wipe the tears off your watering eyes.

She lets out a sympathetic titter. “I’m not the best at this, sorry.”

“I-It’s fine. Thanks for being here.” You succumb to the lamentation, crying your heart out, as Haewon embraces you. Maybe it’s the way you’re naked on someone else’s bed, maybe it’s the way her chest presses up against your chin, or perhaps it’s the way she puts her leg over yours as if she’s using a side pillow, but you’ve never felt more vulnerable in your life. And you’re probably being engulfed by it under the right person.

–

Epilogue: Keeping Tabs

–

I wish I never met you.

You are the worst thing that I’m still

Keeping tabs on for some stupid reason.

–

“It’s quite a lot of stations, babe. Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah–”

It was your birthday two days ago. How old are you now, twenty-five? Three years after graduation, you rejected a job offer from Japan because you didn't want to leave your girlfriend. Not that it was a wrong choice, since the number of fights, sex, and after-fight, angry, heated sex between you and Haewon sits on the average rate.

Further, not having to buy a plane ticket every time you want to see your parents, or your friends is definitely a plus. Just a few hours after the plane landed in Narita, you want to break Japan’s immigration law. God, those streets are miles better than what you have at home.

It seems that trying to reach Odaiba Beach from Meguro Sky Garden takes an hour, plus walking. Sure, it’s ninety minutes to sunset, but you can feel doubts in her voice and your own. It’s the few final days, and all of your words hyping this exact place up only make her feral.

“Maybe we can make it if we start walking now, instead of like– arguing over this.”

Haewon shoots you a glare. “This trip would go to waste if we can’t make it before sunset.” And she takes a step towards you, pointing at your chest. The sun still casts a long shadow of her on the ground.

“Waste?” You arch your eyebrows. “Says the one who spent a whole fucking day at Shinjuku to sweep Uniqlo’s stocks.”

The wind blows over the metal fence, assorted colors of leaves swirling around you.

Her eyes remain fixated on you, before giving an apologetic expression. “Yeah that’s fair. It’s a bit of a quickfire for me on that.”

You snap a photo of her before replying. “Those cardigans are cheaper here anyway, don’t worry.”

She reaches for your camera, X-E4, examining the image of her, and smiles. “Let’s go.” Before leading you, handheld, to the elevator down from the garden.

–

“God.”

“It seems like we’re here at the right time” You speak, before taking another photo of Haewon, showered under the orange of the setting sun.

Haewon is left speechless at the sight in front of her: Rainbow Bridge, salmon sky from the sunset, tinged with clouds, some purple, red, orange. You think it’s probably from some kind of refraction. People aren’t scarce, but to say that there’s a crowd is an overstatement. It’s pretty much the same as in your memory from five years ago. How are the people in my photos doing now?

Similar to the last time, when the breakup was just over a month, you take in the view. It’s just that you aren’t basked in melancholy anymore. Sure, you’re still keeping tabs on her every few months, but it’s nothing more than a blocklist check. You aren’t ready to face Minji, really, and not seeing each other again would be a kind gesture by the gods. However, the hate etched into your wrists isn’t quite as visible anymore.

Still, you can’t play down her impact on your life. In spite of the indirect nature of the teachings, you learned how to love and what to do with one.

“I’ll be back, babe. I’ll see if I can swim to the bridge from here.” Haewon speaks out, like the first encounter, snapping you out of your trance.

Shook, “I’ll wait here; make sure not to get swept into the sea.”, and you joke, smiling.

“See ya.” Haewon grins back, gesturing a goodbye, before stepping out towards the water.

–

[A few paragraphs leading up to the encounter with Minji again; yeah, it’s a little anticlimactic for you to see this in your first read, sorry]

You failed to say a word to her, and there may not be any second chance for this.

It’s funny, miles away from where you’ve feared most. No soul in the world would’ve expected this.

The sun continues on its path, too busy rushing to make its predetermined setting time, ergo apathetic to the colors it casts onto the sky and the way Minji is elegantly bathed by it. Her features are frozen, you alike, mouth slightly ajar. Waves crashing onto the sand keep filling in the silence between you, each encouraging your heart to push out a syllable you’re choking. There’s no battle on who would give in to snapping back into reality first since the argument on the encounter being a dream is too plausible.

Though less often as time goes on, Minji has been your recurring nocturnal figure. Occasionally, she appears as the one who has disregarded your cries during those final days – unresponsive, cold, unaware of your collapse. If not, it’s you and her enamored in what you’ve always wanted her to see, conversing like high school students again. Either way, you usually classify the world surrounding you as nightmares after the alarms are off, almost always with tears welling and ragged breaths, as if her presence alone is enough to give vitality to your nights.

But if this is a lucid dream, both of you would’ve laughed by now, under the Odaiba Beach sunset. Memories are washed away into the sea, making way for you to run along the shoreline, free from any grievances. You wouldn’t go as far as saying that it could’ve been her on the flight here with you, even if the potential of it touches you in more than one way.

The bewilderment of meeting her in where’s supposed to be your sanctuary hasn’t faded one bit. It clouds the fact that she has preserved her high ponytail. She grips her denim jacket ever so tightly while slightly parting aside from the center, revealing a pitch-black turtleneck shirt beneath. The brown string crossing her body is holding her likely expensive handbag resting on the side of her hips. All of these are topped with beige, all-creased pants, undercut with sneakers of the same color, or not, you don’t seem to care anymore.

Voice notes and texts are woven into a tapestry, the one you and she cut as your paths diverged. Yet, your threads, somehow, have been remaining set to interlock with each other again after all this time. The track was divided into a parallel, just with a sea of hatred, sometimes reflecting a spark of care.

It’s still clear as day, the way she left you blind, likely without remorse, any glimmer of hope was eradicated with blocks on social media. The way you tell the version of your story enough times for you to find the median and average spot where people would start to cry. And not that you were left unshaken with each iteration; you just stop before giving in to the sorrow hanging off the edge of your tear ducts. And at one point, it became another tale, a cult classic to you.

Still, this is no place and time to assert your wounds anymore. It’s Tokyo, and five years have passed. Getting one over her shouldn’t matter anymore, you know that. What’s left to achieve in triumph is just plunging the dagger into yourself once more, revisiting how shaken you have been without her for all these years. And three, you’re the one on the wrong side.

Plus, it’s not so awful that she left, even if it casts you in a state of bereft in the first few months. You deleted her photos, and both of you blocked each other. You learned to collect yourself up again, shredding what was once shared while coming to terms with the ones rooted in the essence of you, learning to let them be shared with others. The cadence doesn’t entirely sound like it was, yet it’s what you’ve accepted as days pass.

You still hate her; it’s a known fact. I fucking hate you rings true to this day - a half-thought during a fire burned into your wrists, calling out to be crossed off. Guilt, shame, and self-loathing have been rooting off it, yet you can’t bleed the source out.

In the shadows that the sun cast, you feel a twitch in the corner of your mouth - the determination to conceal any hints of glee at her presence is trying to keep itself afloat. Another gulp in your throat only delays the inevitable; your cheek is trembling from an unknown feeling. It’s teasing the brim. It’s tasting the uncertainty. It’s towering over your hatred. And it brings the nocturnal summer wind that embraced you on the first day at high school, the day she picked up her name tag when everything was in the right place.

“Kim Min-Ji.” Your teacher called as she stood up to pick up her name tag.

“I like you.”

And it flows through you–

“Him? Not really.”

“God, you suck at badminton.” You did “outscore” her by quite a margin (twenty-one to six).

–all the words you’ve said–

“I’ll probably be a doctor. You haven’t chosen yours yet?”

–all the words she has said–

“I think she’s the one.” (She wasn’t.)

“These early mornings are killing me.” Her high school project was killing her.

“Yeah, I can’t be bothered with all this studying. I’ll probably make some nice portfolio and pray.”

–all the dreams drawn together–

“If someone wants to enter here, they can just look at these pics and follow the instructions. It might not be for everyone, I guess. I still wish I could help them, though.”

“I really fucked up a lot during quarantine, like my mental state was dwindling.”

“Now I’m going to be a tired doctor all my life.” She scoffs, downplaying her success.

“This place is filled with rich people.”

–all the struggles vented–

“God, I look so pretty in this.” The red lipstick looks good on her; you wish you knew the exact shade.

“We need to recreate this photo; you stand here.”

“See ya.” She said, not knowing it would be the last time you would see each other face to face.

“Really fucking drunk right nowww, just wanna say you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, like definitely top five, haha.” It was a drunk text in a bar under the blaring music.

–all the love proclaimed–

“I’ll probably have to study another year. You’re still invited to my graduation, though. We’d be like twenty-six by then, right?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have done that, too.”

“I fucking hate you.” The line that became a part of you ever since.

–and the ending.

“Don’t message me anymore; just go live your life separately. Have a pleasant life.”

Are you sure to delete 525 photos permanently?

This action cannot be undone.

Delete Permanently

It’s as if someone made a supercut of you two.

It's excruciating, the way it seeps through your brain, the same one that hung you to be ravaged by the abyss. A wave of serotonin washes over your face, sheathed within the Tokyo Bay’s serenity. And a smile forms, over five years of her name being a crucifixion. It’s you breaking the cadence, and you can only beg her to accept it.

Alas, you have never been in the position to ask for anything. You’ve always been the convict in the sad songs supposed to bury you under their alphabets, robbing the sorrow you meant to drown into. You are her mistake, one that she’s likely so enthusiastic to cross off in her diary.

Yet, under the setting sun, in such a foreign place, and after years of it, maybe she forgets, maybe she forgives, or perhaps she doesn’t care about it. But if even it is written in the sand of Odaiba Beach, it would also be etched on the same wound you see on your pulse, that Kim Min-Ji reciprocates your smile, with a chuckle even, back bent forward the same way you remember to accommodate such elation.

And free from conviction, you are. It’s not the late-night, thumbs-on-keyboard kind of relationship anymore, neither being two free spirits against the world; it’s two people, unshackled from grudges. It’s the closure in the same veins of La La Land, a tapestry of love remains, despite the zeroes and ones translated as blocks, plus the frontal lobe chemicals interpreted as detestations. There has always been a part of you that cares - under the miles of self-loathing from guilt and the despise entrenched in you.

As cued, the setting sun is refracted in the drop of tear grazing your left cheek. She seems fine, even if she’s drowned in her droplets, thirty, forty, or fifty—you aren’t sure anymore—meters away from the idyllic waves. It won’t be the same, and it can never be. Years of walling each other out only dims any remaining glimmer. But here you are, under the Tokyo sun, laughing and crying on such an unfortunate encounter.

You aren’t fourteen again. It doesn’t feel like the first day or the first words of you two. It’s two grief-stricken adults with a shared past. Both cannot hold on to their grudges, though, just you being an asshole for having them.

You aren’t her mistake after all, and she’s not your mistake anymore.

And it’s not witty, but it would suffice.

“Hey.”

—

“That was her, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How was it? I see that you guys were kinda smiling.”

You ponder for a moment, a little too long before Haewon would ask again.

“It ends well, right?”

“I suppose so.”

—

I need to get over you.

—

#minji angst #newjeans angst #haewon smut #nmixx smut #kpop fanfic

470 notes · View notes

astralis-ortus · 2 months ago

Text

spoiled

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— it really is in the little things he does.

w.count → 0.5k genre → slice of life, fluff notes → chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as babe, teeny weenie kith a.n → been feeling sappy whenever i see chan, and what’s the best cure if not to write about it♡ ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist

growing up, you never really thought much about relationships.

well, it's not like you had the breathing room to do so anyway—with your parents' strained relationship and the way education had taken over the role as your safe space, the thought about crushes, falling in love, and jumping from one relationship to another like people around your age had resembled more like some faint, annoying whispers from the nether world rather than something you needed to experience as a young adult. instead, your goal revolves simply around graduating, getting a good job, and sticking with that—nothing more, nothing less.

well, that's exactly what you've managed to do so far…

with some minor adjustments.

"babe, do you want—oh, you're about to shower?"

you stopped a few steps from the door of the bathroom, eyes finding your boyfriend's curious pair just beyond the bedroom door while your arms hugged the fresh pair of pyjamas and a fluffy towel chris had bought for you a few months prior, right before your first sleepover at his place.

it still feels wild to you, the way chris just popped into your life one day and somehow managed to stay. the fact that you let him? even wilder. never in a million years would you ever thought you'd walk into your first and somewhat of a serious relationship not long after landing your first actual job, fresh out of university.

"yeah," you nodded, repeatedly blinking your eyes out of habit, "do you need to go? i might take a while since i'm gonna wash my hair."

"no no, i'm good," he replied, no longer looking at you when he turned busy, fumbling away at the cabinet under his kitchen sink, "but wait, there's something i want—found it!"

the curiosity in your eyes turned into sparkles of surprise when you noticed the rather familiar bottle in chris' hand as he heads over in your direction, sweet pair of dimples decorating his proud, cheeky smile.

"i got that body wash you said you wanted to try," handing the green colored bottle, chris lightly scrunched his nose alongside the click of his tongue, "kinda unfortunate—i was going to surprise you with it, but you beat me to the shower."

it's at times like this when you feel like your life in the past year has merely been a series of lucid dreams—when he looked at you with so much tenderness in his eyes, when he treats you like you're his entire world and more, when chris went out of his way just to prove that he meant everything he whispered in your ears between the ungodly hours of the night as he held you close when nightmares crept its long and sharp nails around your neck.

chris' affection still feels like a fever dream, and you don't know if you deserve to be at the receiving end of it at all.

"you're seriously spoiling me way too much, christopher," you finally chirped a response, mirroring your boyfriend's nose scrunch whilst keeping your unspoken worries locked away, "but thank you. i promise i'll use it well."

"i know you will," the dimpled smile made its way back to your boyfriend's features, igniting the familiar fuzzy feeling in the depths of your chest, and its rumble only grew louder when chris leaned in, faint scent of vanilla greeted you as he stole a peck from your lips,

"you know that's why i love spoiling you, right?"

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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galindatomyelphie · 1 month ago

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can you write an elphaba x reader where elphaba is oblivious to the crush she has on reader until glinda points it out to her

my first little blurb for elphie!!!! this is just pure pining and the wlw experience. enjoy and please let me know what you think! 🤍

Elphaba didn’t settle into Shiz University easily.

The mocks, the looks, the glinda fan group. It was all too much for her. Until she met you. While others would mock her differences, you celebrated them.

You met her in the library and immediately felt drawn to her. Like some sort of invisible string with tying you together. You also noticed the awful amount of stares and mockery this poor girl was getting. So you made it your job to make her as comfortable as possible. You planted yourself down right next to her, taking your books out as if nothing had happened.

Elphaba looked up from her books, her fingers pushing up the glasses that had fallen down the bridge of her nose. She was about to open her mouth when she looked straight into your eyes.

You grinned, your smiling almost blinding.

“I’m Y/N,” You said opening up your history book.

Elphaba still didn’t know what to say.

“I’m actually in your history class, but we’ve never spoken until now. Well, I mean. I’m only speaking, you get what I mean,” You blabbered, getting your gel pens out of your bag. You had planned to study as you were really falling behind in history already, but this girl. This beautiful, green girl has caught your interest.

“Uh..” Elphaba started, her eyes going to her books.

“Is it ok if I sit with you? You’re the smartest in the class,” You asked, eyes hopeful. Elphaba sighed, but eventually nodded.

And soon, those library meetings became regular. Elphaba didn’t really speak, but she listened. And you felt heard.

“I brought my favourite,” You hummed dropping your famous cookies in front of Elphaba. She smiled and turned around squeezing your arm. You blushed lightly at the touch.

“Glinda will be so jealous,”

At this point, Glinda had seen what you had seen the first time Elphaba arrived. She saw how powerful and kind this girl truly was, and somehow the three of you became friends.

“Well, she doesn’t study with us, so no cookies for her,” You stated, matter of factly. You took a seat on the edge of the table, beside Elphaba. For some reason, Elphaba couldn’t keep her eyes trained on your face. Her eyes wandered down your bare legs, and if she wasn’t so green you’d be able to see the pink forming on her cheeks.

She had never felt so flustered before. She didn’t know what this feeling was. Why was her heart racing, why was her mouth dry?

That night, she sat beside Glinda watching her take off her make up at her vanity.

“What does it mean if your heart races around someone?” Elphaba asked.

Glinda giggled, “I’ve been waiting for this!” She exclaimed, almost jumping into Elphaba’s arms.

“You like Y/N!”

Elphaba gasped, “I do not. That’s ridiculous. We’re just friends,” She insisted.

Glinda raised an eyebrow, “You like her. You like her. You like her!”

She opened her mouth to deny, but she couldn’t. Because it was true.

She liked Y/N.

#galinda upland #glinda x elphaba #glinda x reader #wicked #wicked glinda #elphaba x reader #elphaba thropp #wicked elphaba #elphaba x glinda x fiyero

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httpiastri · 1 year ago

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this christmas – op81

ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3

second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...

third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)

and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.

he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.

so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.

when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.

him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.

"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."

"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.

"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."

oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.

"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.

"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."

the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"

oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"

"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"

"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.

unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.

lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.

you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.

oscar.

your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.

he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"

he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.

your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."

and then, you were just two.

you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.

"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.

"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.

"a month has never felt this long before."

you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.

as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.

you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.

then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.

talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.

"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"

you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"

"yeah."

and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.

"hey, i just wanted to-"

he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.

you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.

oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.

you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.

"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"

"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.

"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"

oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.

she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?

he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."

"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."

you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."

oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.

maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.

but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"

"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.

it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.

your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.

"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.

you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."

oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."

festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.

he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.

of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.

oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.

who even decided to put him and you in the same room?

when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?

you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.

the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.

it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.

you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."

"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."

"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.

"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"well, everything is okay, so..."

there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.

just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-

but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.

you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.

thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.

as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.

oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"

you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.

he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."

you nod. "yeah, it does."

something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.

when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.

you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.

some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.

no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.

his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.

what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.

lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"

"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"

he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"

with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."

he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.

"exactly."

lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.

and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.

oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."

you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.

you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.

when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.

"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"

"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."

"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."

he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."

"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."

you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.

"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."

you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.

your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.

"is this okay?"

you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."

when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-

"give me your other foot."

you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.

compose yourself, woman.

"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.

"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"

you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.

the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.

shit.

the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"

your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."

"oh, no skiing?"

"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.

"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.

you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."

"but oscar promised to come along?"

you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.

did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?

"w-what?"

"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."

"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."

you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.

the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.

"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"

"i don't believe it."

"you don't have to, but it's the truth."

"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."

"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."

you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.

"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."

he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"

oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.

he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.

as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.

you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.

"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"

kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."

"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.

"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."

oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."

you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"

you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.

you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.

"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.

"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.

"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.

you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.

and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.

"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"

just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.

lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."

lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.

it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.

in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.

funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.

one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.

you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-

just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"

you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"

he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"

"touché."

your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."

"indeed..."

you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.

"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."

you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.

but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?

oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."

"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."

the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.

the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.

he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.

oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.

kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.

you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.

the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.

now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.

you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.

you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"

you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."

his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."

and when he asks, you tell.

you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.

and then, he tells you his side.

he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.

you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.

"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.

"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."

"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."

lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."

"and what does that mean?!"

"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."

"what kind of plan?"

"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."

as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.

"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.

lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."

you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"

"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."

"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."

lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."

she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."

you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.

suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?

for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.

there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.

in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."

"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.

"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.

you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.

the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."

speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."

"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."

you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"

he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."

you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."

"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.

your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".

then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.

and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.

it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.

you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.

"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."

he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."

he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."

"you suck."

he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"

"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.

oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.

neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.

considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.

"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.

instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.

it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.

you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?

but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.

"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.

the mistletoe.

"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."

his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."

you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.

he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-

"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."

he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.

"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"

"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"

"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."

"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"

"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"

oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.

he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.

he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.

"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.

he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.

"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"

"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."

"oh, is that so?"

"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."

"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"

"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."

and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.

yet again, instant boner.

your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.

you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.

"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"

you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.

your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.

"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."

you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.

your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"

"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"

"as you wish."

as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"

he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"

"just you."

oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"

you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.

when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.

"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.

"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.

your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."

you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."

"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."

"the necklace is higher on my list, though."

oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."

you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"

"apologize. now."

his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"

he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.

but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.

you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.

but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.

oscar.

you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.

"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.

"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.

charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."

"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.

"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."

with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.

finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.

"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.

you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."

"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."

before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.

and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."

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w2soneshots · 4 months ago

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could you do something like the 24hr karting race and shes a driver for senor frogs, she finishes her stint and then like the new video they couldnt find the bed in the rv or whatever so they go into quadrants and theres only one bed and both her and harry need sleep si they have to share?? sorry im so bad at explaining

We’ll have to share -W2S

words: 1.5k+

warnings: unestablished relationship, spooning.

summary: while filming the annual señor frogs 24 hour go cart race you and Harry end up having to share a bed, but nether of you mind since your both majorly crushing on the other.

notes: hello love!🤗 I decided to write this asap even though I have so many requests but I wanted to get this out before everyone gets over the señor frogs high (If you get what I’m saying?). Anyways, enjoy!!💓🏎️

Today I'm driving for señor frogs in the annual twenty four hour go cart race. I woke up early this morning, took a quick shower, got ready, packed a small bag and then set off. It took almost two hours to get to Buckmoore Park and I arrived just after ten, ready for the practice that starts at ten thirty.

I've know the boys for years and are good friends with them all. After they dropped Callux from the team they asked if I would participate this year and after seeing how fun it looked last year I couldn't say no. I've done lots of practice in the last few weeks and I'm actually pretty good. I used to race with my friends for fun when I was younger but that's about all the experience I've had.

When I arrived I parked my car then signed in at the front desk. "Hey! You're here!" Chip's voice echoed through the reception. A smile spread across my face. We shared a quick hug then he walked me to our green room.

Harry, Chris, Will and Freezy stood talking. They turned to me as we entered. "Hi guys!" I set my bag down. I glanced at Harry, he smiled softly at me. They all said their "hello's" then we started talking about the plan for the twenty four hours.

Unfortunately the weather forecast wasn't ideal since it was supposed to rain for almost the entire time but that made it more interesting and fun to watch.

We sent Chip and Plum out for the practice and once that was done it was time for the race to begin. We were starting off with Chris. After getting into our suits all of us walked out onto the track. I pulled mine down so that it rested at my waist and I wore a comfortable black tank top underneath.

Once we'd finished doing some interviews the group headed back upstairs onto the balcony to watch as the race began. As soon as the flag was waved Chris raced over to the cart, accidentally kicking another racer on the way. Harry pushed the cart to give him a boost then he drove swiftly off, along with everyone else.

When twelve am hit it was finally my turn. I suited up and grabbed my helmet. I stepped outside onto the deck, Harry just behind me (who'd already done his first stint, just before Plum went out). "Jesus Christ it's hammering it down." I looked out at the soaked and slippery track. He placed his hands on my shoulder, squeezing. "You'll be fine," he reassured me.

I quickly walked down the stairs, taking a deep breath when I got to the bottom. I looked back up at Harry. He put his two thumbs up. I smiled softly, nodding. "I can do this. Let's hope I don't completely embarrass myself." I thought.

"Nervous?" The camera man asked as I waited. "To be honest I'm shitting myself," I replied with a shaky laugh. Plum pulled in and immediately jumped out, he gave me a quick wave as I passed him. I adjusted the seat insert, got in and then drove off.

As soon as I set off I heard Freezy in the earpiece. He was talking about what place I was and how carful I needed to be on the turns. I could barely concentrate since I was focusing on not spinning out and it didn't help that I couldn't really see out of my visor.

Around an hour in I'd gotten used to it and was now much calmer. I hadn't heard anything through the communications for a while then I suddenly heard Harry's voice. He told me that Freezy had gone for a snooze and that he was replacing him.

"That was really good, one minute nine seconds. Try and keep up that time," he said as I finished another lap. The rain was starting to pick up. "It's so fucking slippy!" I felt as though I wasn't in control, the wheels were spinning everywhere. I just desperately didn't want to spin out and let the boys down.

When I was finally told to come in I felt so relieved. I had no idea what place we were or how I'd done. I practically stumbled out, my legs and bum asleep from sitting in the same position for two hours. I pulled my helmet off as I passed Chip.

When I got to the boys I was met with what seemed to be happy faces. "We're fucking second place in class!" Freezy patted my back excitedly. Harry smiled wildly at me. "I told you you'd be fine." I smiled back at him, relieved that I hadn't fucked everything up.

I was completely soaked so I went to get changed into some comfy clothes that I could sleep in. Plum, Will and Chris had already gone to bed and me and Harry were going to do the same as it was now around two in the morning.

We walked together to quadrants bus, since there wasn't a proper bed in the one Chip had rented and they'd kindly said we could sleep in there's. When we got inside, out of the rain we quietly walked down the hall. I turned to look at him, my eyes slightly wider than a minute ago. "Is there only one bed left?"

"Shit. I think so," he replied before looking around to check again. "What are we gonna do?" I whispered. "Uh- you can have it." My brows knitted together. "No, don't be daft. They're pretty big... we could share?" I was really hoping I hadn't just embarrassed myself.

Harry's face turned red, though I couldn't really tell due to the dim lights. "Uh- uhm- yeah. Okay," he stuttered. I smiled slightly. "Come on then. I'm exhausted."

He got in first. It was slightly awkward since the last bed was at the bottom and practically on the floor. I slid in after, both now on our sides, my back facing his front. Turns out they were smaller than they looked.

Evidently Harry didn't know what to do with his hands, they were sort of hovering over my side. I smirked to myself then grabbed his hand, placing it around me my waist. I shuffled into him comfortably. I felt him physically relax. "You sure this is okay?" He asked quietly. "I'm sure."

I've had a massive crush on Harry since a few months ago when we spent the entire night together at a party nether of us wanted to be at. I laughed more than I had in a while that night and I really enjoyed spending time with him.

I was woken up a few hours later by Chip giggling. My eyes fluttered open and a small tired groan escaped from my lips. "You alright there love? Comfy?" He chuckled quietly, as people were still asleep. I was confused then I realised I was still pressed up against Harry.

Harry shuffled behind me, mumbling something and then shooting up. A loud bang was heard as he whacked his head on the roof of the bed. "Ow." He fell back onto the pillow and brought his hand up to rub his head. Chip laughed even more.

We got out and stood up. I sighed before glancing at Harry. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, he looked slightly uncomfortable. Chip continued to tease us as we walked back to the green room and he immediately told Freezy and Chris that he'd found us asleep together.

"I knew it! You like each other!" Freezy exclaimed, standing up. My eyes widened. "Uh-" "you guessed it," Harry replied, interrupting me. My head snapped over to him. "You like me?" I blurted out. The room fell silent. "Uhm- yeah- yeah I think I do." My face softened. Freezy chuckled with a smirk.

It turns out they wanted Harry to get back in the cart once again, which he wasn't very happy about. But he ended up agreeing and he got back into his suit. I stood next to him on the balcony, both of us leaning our forearms on the barrier as we waited for the signal that it was his turn to go out.

"I like you too. Just so you know." I said, not taking my eyes off the track. "You do?" He turned to me, surprise evident on his face. I looked at him sincerely. "Mhm, ever since that party last month." A smile graced his lips. "So... did you wanna go for lunch or something after this?" He asked. "Are you asking me on a date Mr Lewis?" I teased. He chuckled. I gently nudged his side with my elbow. "I'd really like that."

"Harry! Time to go!" Chip shouted. I glanced at Chip then looked up at Harry, pushing onto my tiptoes and placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "Good luck!" I whispered. He smirked. "I'll see you in a bit." I nodded before patting his chest.

I watched as he quickly walked down the stairs then I turned to go back inside. I stopped as I noticed Freezy through the window. He raised his eyebrows with a mischievous look on his face. I groaned but I didn't really mind that he'd seen mine and Harry's encounter, all I could think about was the date I was going on in a few hours.

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belokhvostikova · 6 months ago

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─── 𐙚 Fic Authors Self-Rec Game

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics you’ve written, then pass it on to at least five other writers! Let’s spread the self-love! ༝༚༝༚

I love when my presence is acknowledged by @onegirlmanytales. Someone cool knows me, he he.

The “Plug” | (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader) (18+)

Man, just like all my fics, I hated writing this one, but it was worth it! Yay! I don’t know, it just has such a nice feel to it, mostly because I like the idea of Eddie having a crush on us (me). This was also inspired by some Soundgasm audio, lol, so it has quite a nice bit of horniness to it! I’m just quite proud of how decently written it is, especially since I usually crash out on writing during the middle and end of my fics, and this one is just pretty damn alright!

The Yearbook: Club Pictures | (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

I felt so wanted and famous during this series, lol! It was my first, too! You guys were just very receptive to the first chapter, which really motivated to continue. And, I know I shouldn’t, but I love Eddie being mean to us, then profusely groveling, okay?! It’s fun, I swear! But, my god, let me tell you, that last chapter in this series was literal HELL ON EARTH to write, I never want to experience that again, I think it’s like 35k words or more, I don’t know what I was thinking…

The One Where Everybody Finds Out | (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader) (18+)

This one was just actually fun to write! It’s quite stupid, but I enjoy the stupidity of it. You watch Friends, then this comes along, you know, inevitable. Although, much like all my other fics, I feel as though it could have ended better in terms of the writing. Y’all, I’m telling you, all my fics start out great, then just get shit! How does one stop that from happening! It’s like I get summit fever, ugh!

Eddie’s Situationship | (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Don’t know if this counts, given that it’s just a blurbo, not a fic, but suck it, because I LOVE IT! Drug Dealer!Eddie, man, I love it too much. I don’t know, something about a scary man liking us (me) is so hot, AH! I just want this to happen to me, okay?! There, that’s why it’s my favorite, damn it!

Dustin Fucking Henderson | (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader) (18+)

Listen, I’m going to be quite honest, I feel strongly mediocre about my fics, okay? They’re not anything to die for, like this one. But see, this one, it’s quite precious, because it’s, like, the second oneshot I ever post, and my MOST liked fic ever! Which, with all love, pisses me off, because it’s so POORLY written, lol! Like, if I could (totally won’t), I’d rewrite this bitch 10x better. I love the plot line! Love the blowjob! Just hate the writing!

Okay, now this is where I shut up. Mothertrucker, just post your favorite fics, okay? It’s Tumblr. You don’t have to be nervous, people have said way worse stuff than being proud of their work! @oneforthemunny @queenimmadolla @m0llygunn @munsonology @madelynraemunson

#me stuff #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson recs #eddie munson fic #eddie munson series #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n

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rafesslxt · 8 months ago

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✧.* 𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑬𝑵𝒁𝑶 𝑩𝑬𝑹𝑲𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵

[ aftercare ] ― oh he would be the sweetest boy after sex – running you a bath after a long and intense session, using your favorite bathing stuff so you can relax in it

[ body part ] ― he loves everything on your body but especially your neck, hips, stomach and ass. All soft skin for him to taste. On his own body he likes his stomach, trained abs and v lines

[ cum ] ― also would go feral seeing his cum on you - loves it when you swallow

[ desires ] ― He‘s a switch so when he‘s in control he gets turned on by seeing you tembling under his touch

When he‘s sub oh boy – he‘s a moaning mess as soon as you start whispering dirty things into his ear and how you wanna ride his cock. "Shit baby, please.. let‘s go to my dorm, need you."

[ experience ] ― he would be quiete experienced even tho he seems shy to many he just knows how to seduce the girls and lure them in. He has a lot one night stands but always makes it clear from the start that this is a one time thing

[ first time ] ― he was quiete a mess with all these new feelings and sensations on his body

[ grooming ] ― completly shaved - i can‘t explain why

[ horny ] ― oh sex is defined important to him and he would be horny all the time especially with you as his girlfriend by his side. Just a look at your skirt would be enough to have him turned on in his seat. Just 2 days without sex and he would have blue balls already

[ intimacy ] ― he can do both – romantic and casual. Depends on his partner and his relationship with them. If it‘s just a fling he would be more casual but If he‘s with his gf then he would do romantic stuff like candles and rose petals all over to floor

[ joker ] ― he would be clumsy sometimes and is able to laugh with you while having sex

[ kinks ] ― he has so many and is open to experimenting with you from all possible positions to any kind of kink. He would love being a sub from time to time, has a classic daddy kink, breeding kink, orgasm control, edging, tying yours or his hands up to the bed and so on – kinky little baby

[ locations ] ― he loves to do it in front of people but in a way no one notices. He would make you cockwarming him under a blanket while you‘re in the common room with the rest of the gang, slowly circling your hips. He would whisper in your ear. "Hmm If you continue moving I‘m gonna drag you to your dorm or fuck you over the desk in front of us, you want that, doll?"

[ masturbation ] ― he loves to do it with you together or when he knows he‘s not allowed to and lets himself get caught just so you punish him. But sometimes he would be a good boy and not touch himself, begging under you. "hmm baby please I‘ve been such a good boy. I didn‘t even touch myself!“

[ no go ] ― knife play. He likes slapping you or grabbing you harshly If you like it too but knife play would be a no go. Not because of the blood but because of the pain and knowing he could leave scars

[ oral ] ― a munch like Mattheo. He would beg you to eat you out, begging for your pussy to ride his face but he also enjoys getting a blowjob

[ positions ] ― 69 for sure so he can pleasure you while you suck his cock, also you riding him while he sucks on your nipples and watching you bounce up and down on him

[ quickies ] ― he would use every chance to do them between classes, in the bathroom in the broomsticks, before quidditch practice, before a quidditch game, while throwing a party in the common room so no one notices you‘re gone for too long

[ rounds ] ― high stanima since he‘s playing sports. He would go round for round until you‘re all sensetive and he would make you come over and over again until you‘re a whimpering mess beneath him. "Just one more baby, I promise.. just one more time, for me.“

[ secrets ] ― panty thief for sure. When you two are just friends and he has a crush on you, he would steal them when you‘re not looking or falling asleep while doing a movie marathon with him

[ toys ] ―he would love teasing your pulsating clit with your vibrator. "oh baby what was that? Can‘t hear you over all these pretty little noises."

But also when you use a cockrimg on him so he couldn‘t come "oh fuck please baby let me come. I need to come so fucking bad, oh shit –" he would be a whimpering mess when you start the vibrating mode.

[ underwear ] ― black is simple but would make him go crazy

[ volume ] ― let‘s be honest – he‘s definitely vocal doesn‘t matter If he‘s dom or sub in that moment. "God your pussy is so fucking tight baby, feel you milking my cock – merlin"

[ watch ] ― he would share you but only with his closest friends and when you really want to. He also enjoys watching you touching yourself – sometimes it‘s a punishment for him when he‘s a bad boy

[ xxx ] ― barely - cause of all the quickies you two have

[ yearning ] ― i feel like he would be a tease and try to get a reaction out of you until you can‘t tale it anymore

[ zzz ] ― he would cuddle with you and then drifting of to sleep with you together

[ this is how I see Enzo, you don‘t have to like or agree 🤍 ]

thank you for reading and supporting 🫶🏻 heres my masterlist

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xoxo sarah <3

#slytherin boys #slytherin imagine #slytherin smut #slytherin boys drabble #slytherin boys fluff #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys imagine #slytherin boys headcanons #lorenzo berkshire one shot #lorenzo berkshire drabble #lorenzo berkshire smut #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire headcanon #lorenzo berkshire fluff #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire fanfic

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livelaughloveluffy · 12 days ago

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first love - black leg sanji

a/n: this is totally not another dream scenario that i'm writing into a fic..... sorry to be posting a bit slower, i've just been trying to experiment with and improve my writing and finally felt ready to finish this draft!!

a/n: hopefully this fic was worth the wait!! just a little treat to help you guys prepare for the new year!! also in typical me fashion, this song is just soooo perfect for this fic so here you go.

nothing but fluff here 💗

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you never thought you'd reunite with black leg sanji on this tiny island buried in the corner of the grand line. but you'd recognize that fluffy blonde hair and curly brow from a hundred miles away. your feet moved beneath you before your brain could even register what was happening. and before you knew it, the two of you walked side by side, his hand gently resting of the smalls of your back as he escorted you to the beloved ship of the straw hat pirates.

•♡•

it only made sense for sanji to introduce you to the crew over a meal he prepared. the familiar sight and smell of your childhood crush in his element, assembling dinner with such elegance that his movements could be seen as a choreographed waltz, reminding you exactly who you fell in love with all those years ago.

the table was already set to precision as the crew filed in ready to enjoy the freshly made meal. taking their places to their usual seats, smiling at you as a greeting. you couldn't help but admire the people who had taken care of sanji all this time, letting him pursue his passions, and supporting him along the way.

•♡•

with his mouth full of half-chewed food, luffy mumbles out the question everyone had been wondering "so, how did you and sanji meet anyways? from the baratie?"

with a casual smile and a quick glance to sanji, you began to reply to the captain's question, "it's been so long, i might as well just tell you the truth. sanji's actually the first guy i ever had a crush on."

•♡•

when the two of you finally manage to escape the absolute chaotic freakout of the crew, sanji's nice dinner now growing cold, but not forgotten, as you gazed at the very first boy you'd ever loved. hidden away in the pantry of the kitchen, bodies only half an inch from being pressed together, awkwardly trying to avoid the rapid fire prying questions of the other straw hat pirates.

looking at the cook now, you can't help but be reminded of the version of him you fell in love with as he shyly attempts to look everywhere but at you. his arms cage you in between them as his hands press against the ledge of a shelf to keep as much distance between the two of you as possible.

"you know... it's funny you mentioned that... the whole crush thing.. well not funny but..." even in the dark, you can see the pink flush growing in sanji's cheeks as he struggles to convey his feelings. you watch as the curly-browed blonde takes a moment to calm his nerves. "you're also the first crush i ever had..."

your eyes widen in shock and disbelief. it took you longer than you'd care to admit to remember how to breathe and form sentence just to reply to his confession. all your strength is going towards not dropping to your knees, bringing your voice barely to a whisper you reply "i can't believe you liked me all this time..."

the words spill out of sanji's mouth before his brain has time to catch up. "how could i not? i've been in love with you since we met. you just seemed to glow. everyone else was so dull compared to how brightly you shined. you radiated warmth and kindness, i couldn't help but be drawn to you." you can almost feel the warmth of sanji's blush due to your closeness.

the already-small space between the two of you is almost microscopic as you stepped forward to close the gap. looking up at the beautiful blonde man in front of you, you finally found the courage to tell him everything you wished you said before you parted from the baratie all those years ago.

"sanji.. you know... the first time i saw you, i thought my dream had finally come true. when i was a little kid, my imaginary ideal partner, looked exactly like you. i thought i had wished so hard that i conjured you into reality. i was the princess and you were my prince and it sounds silly now but..."

your rambling now cut short by the sound of sanji's voice, honeyed and slightly gruff, interrupting you with a question. "...can i kiss you?"

you faintly reply "i've only waited 16 years for you to ask.."

and before you know it, sanji's soft lips finally touch yours. his slow and gentle pace was torturous, and soon to be forgotten as your carnal hunger and desire for the blonde turned his kisses ravenous and rough. your whole body seemed to be buzzing at the sensation of his touch. years of lust and adoration only adding fuel to the fire.

hehehe the end...

for now..

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a/n: there will definitely be another installment of this fic, because i'm not nearly cruel enough to leave such a juicy cliffhanger AND make this a oneshot 😌 i had sooooo much fun writing this and i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did!!

a/n: bahaha i'm in peak loser mode tonight, writing one piece fanfic in my new one piece snuggie.... and im loving it *evil laugh*

tags ♡: @twiishaa @3v37773 @irethepotato @peachycat17 @dreamcastgirl99 @sanji-soup @suga-tofu @vamphoria @hamhamhamtaro @kcch-ns @raddelusionaldive @sparkyvibes

want to join the taglist? click here!

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

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marsdql · 2 months ago

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𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘜𝘴 ✄

Synopsis: You never thought a quiet new kid, who seemed so distant and out of place, could have such an impact on you, but somehow, his presence turned everything upside down.

genre/warnings: fluff to angst, Sunghoon is really shy, stalking, miscommunication, isolation, social anxiety, self doubt, rejection, drama | Wc: 5.1k

𝒎𝒂𝒓'𝒔 note: Everything that has been going on with me and my crush, who I called Thickie, served as the basis for this. It was really embarrassing, and I still find it hard to move on from it. Everything is still in progress, so I'll turn this into a series if anything more occurs. Legit every detail in here is from my true experience so enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

You put on a white shirt with a black skirt and mary janes. Your hair had gotten a lot longer in the summer, your bangs are finally starting to blend in with the rest of your hair length, making you feel more confident. Most people dislike you after an incident that happened in middle school, you were secretly dating the boy everyone liked and when they found out, they all ghosted you. Though you didn't care and knew that their hatred was pure jealousy. Even after everyone left you, everything was getting better, as you finally became best friends with your “friend crushes”, Rei and Tzuyu.

Because you didn't want the summer to end, you and your best friends stayed up all night yelling at each other to go to bed, saying "goodnight" several times, and then messaging again a few seconds later. It was your first day of school. Knowing that you would only be attending school today and departing on a three-day trip to Toronto the following day, however, made you glad.

You walk to school and find Rei outside the school, waving to you with a big smile greeting you.

"Hey!" Rei grins, pulling you into a hug. "Did you get any sleep at all last night?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Maybe like an hour? You and Tzuyu kept sending 'one more message,' and I couldn't just leave you hanging."

Rei laughs, linking her arm with yours as you both start walking toward the school doors. "Right? I was wide awake until I wasn't. But at least we're suffering together."

As you make your way through the school hallway, you catch glimpses of your classmates, most of whom glance away when they see you. But the familiar sight doesn't bother you as much as it once did. With Rei and Tzuyu by your side, you feel more grounded, more confident.

"So, are you ready for the first day? You know, before you escape to Toronto?" Rei asks, nudging you playfully.

"Absolutely. Today’s just a warm-up before the trip," you reply, your excitement about the getaway shining through.

Rei's eyes sparkle, but she suddenly stops mid-step and lowers her voice. "Oh, did you hear about the new guy?"

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Nope. What's the scoop?"

She leans in, lowering her voice to a dramatic whisper. "Apparently, Sohee saw him earlier, and she said he's exactly our type."

You feel a blush creep up on your cheeks, but you laugh it off. "Oh, really? Does he know my type that well?" Sohee was one of your old best friends, you and him were in a trio with another girl from 3rd grade until 8th grade when another girl joined the group and ruined everything. Although, you were never mad at Sohee for leaving you, knowing he was a really shy boy who followed whoever he was with, the second he got gaslighted by them.

Rei smirks. "Let's just say he has the 'mysterious and smart' vibe. Sohee practically dragged me over to the library just to sneak a peek."

Your eyes widen in amusement. "And you went along with it?"

"Of course! I’m a great friend," Rei jokes, tugging you gently in the direction of the library. "Come on, let’s go check him out. You know you’re curious."

You laugh and shake your head, but you can’t help but let Rei lead you there, the anticipation bubbling up as you both head toward the library.

As you and Rei reach the library, she glances around, scanning for the guy she’s been talking about. Finally, she spots him across the room, and at first, her face lights up with excitement, but it quickly fades as she takes a closer look.

“Really?” she mutters, wrinkling her nose slightly. “I thought he’d look… I don’t know, better? My old crush was way cuter.” She shrugs, clearly unimpressed.

You glance over at him, and while he’s definitely cute—with that relaxed, friendly vibe—you don’t feel the spark that Rei probably thought you would. You chuckle, nodding along. “Yeah, he’s alright,” you say with a smile.

The rest of the school day drifts by, and soon you’re heading home to get ready for your weekend trip to Toronto. The city is as vibrant as you’d imagined, with lights and people everywhere. You spend your time trying new foods, wandering through markets, and snapping photos of everything from the towering CN Tower to the small, hidden bookstore you find tucked away in a quiet alley. The trip feels like a whirlwind, and by the time you get back, you’re bursting with stories to tell Rei and Tzuyu.

The day after you return, you walk into school excited to catch up with your friends. Between classes, you tell Rei and Tzuyu all about Toronto—the food, the shops, the endless things to see—and they laugh as you share your favorite moments. The day flies by, filled with laughter and classes, and finally, the last bell rings.

As usual, you, Rei, and Tzuyu gather your things and start walking to the bus stop. Since the bus doesn’t come directly to school, you have to walk a few blocks to the station—a small routine you’re all used to by now.

You’re halfway there, laughing at something Tzuyu said, when you notice someone familiar standing at the bus stop ahead. It’s him—the guy from the library, earbuds in, looking just as relaxed as before.

“Wait, he’s here?” you ask, stopping in surprise as you look from Rei to Tzuyu.

Rei raises an eyebrow, giving you a knowing smile. “Yeah, he takes the same bus as us. He’s been taking it since the day you left for Toronto.”

You shake your head, laughing a little. “What a coincidence.”

Since then, you've been seeing him at the bus stop every day after school and at the library at lunch. You've been feeling a little something for him, even if you wouldn't admit it. He lets himself be the last person on the bus while you watch him wait for everyone else to board. It warmed your heart to watch him use his phone on the bus and then get up swiftly when he saw an older woman.

One problem, though, was that you didn't know his name, grade, identity, or anything else. You only knew that you followed him everywhere and that you had unintentionally managed to learn his whole routine. – Period 01: PE / Period 02: Local 218 / Period 03: Portable Class / Period 04: Local 214

You’re sitting in the back of French class, pretending to take notes but actually scribbling on a small piece of paper. Hi, you write, your pen hesitating as your heart races. I think you’re really cool, but i dont have the courage to ask for your socials :)

You look down at the note, wondering if you’re really about to do this. You've seen him on the bus almost every day, yet you don’t know his name or anything about him. But he’s got this quiet vibe, something that just makes you want to reach out.

Before you can change your mind, you fold up the note and slide it into your pocket.

You’re standing by the bus stop, heart pounding, clutching the tiny note in your hand. Just before the bus arrives, you check your reflection in your phone screen, quickly fluffing your hair and taking a shaky breath.

When the bus pulls up, it’s packed, and as you step on, you spot him—standing near the door, one hand holding the railing, looking a bit squished by the crowd. You can barely breathe, but this is your chance.

With the bus jolting along, you inch your way closer to him, your heart thudding louder with each step. Just as the bus nears your stop, you reach out, tap his shoulder gently, and he turns, startled, his eyes widening in surprise.

You don’t say a word. You just hand him the folded piece of paper. He takes it, still looking confused, and before he can react, you dart off the bus, practically running all the way home, feeling like you’re in a scene from a movie.

Back home, you collapse onto your bed, covering your face with your hands, replaying the moment in your mind. You can’t believe you actually did it!

It was clear that he was timid because you never saw him with friends or spoke with anyone. That's the main reason you couldn't find his socials, he was never with anyone for you to go and stalk their following to see if he has them as a mutual. Until one day, you saw him leave his physical education class one day with a classmate. You had never seen this man smile until that moment. Finally, some information that might be useful to you: he was with a boy who is two years older than you and whom you have seen around since starting high school, meaning that he could be in the yearbook of the previous years.

You sigh, glancing at Rei as you place the yearbook on the lunch table. “Rei, you don’t understand��I’ve searched everywhere for this! I’ve asked everyone in our grade for a yearbook. And now… finally, here it is!”

Rei grins, leaning closer as you take a huge bite of your sandwich, flipping through the pages, fingers smudging a bit from the crumbs. “Okay, let’s find him,” you say with a determined look, your eyes scanning the faces. You’re on a mission. The guy you like—the quiet, mysterious one you barely ever see talking to anyone—had left gym class one day with another boy. You never saw him smile until that moment. And that moment set you on a quest.

“Wait!” You stop, finger hovering over a face in the yearbook. You lean in closer. It’s him. The boy who was with the guy you like. “Jake… that’s his name! Rei, that’s him!”

Rei’s eyes widen as she stares at the picture. “So what now?” she whispers, excitement in her voice.

“Now, we find his Instagram.” You both huddle around your phone, searching Jake’s name. A few scrolls later, you find it, click on his profile, and go straight to his following list, fingers crossed, heart racing.

And then—there he is! The guy you’ve been trying to find for weeks, maybe months, is right there, grinning in his profile photo, holding a peace sign and doing aegyo. You and Rei scream, your excitement echoing across the cafeteria. Everyone’s staring, but you don’t care. After all this time, you’ve found him, you check his name, Park Sunghoon.

“Finally!” Rei laughs, clutching her stomach as she recovers. “He’s so cute! Look at how he's pouting in his picture awwwhhh!!!!!”

You nod, barely able to contain yourself. He’s always been so reserved and alone, never hanging out with anyone—until that day with Jake. And now you’ve got a way to find out more. This journey, all this searching, led you right to him. You can't believe you wrote that letter talking about how you're too shy to ask for his socials and there you are, finding it a week after handing him that letter.

You and Rei are on cloud nine. You both run to the school agora, barely containing yourselves, and collapse into seats, still grinning and squealing over every little detail.

Rei, not ready to stop, grins and pulls out her phone. “Let’s see if he has a TikTok!” she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

A few moments later, she gasps, grabbing your arm. “Oh. My. God.”

“What?” you whisper, leaning in as she clicks on his profile. And right there, at the top of his page, there’s a slideshow video, captioned “Top 1 ways to confess without making things awkward”—in Vietnamese(you both had to translate). You squint, heart pounding, as the first slide comes up.

It’s your letter. The one you slipped on the bus.“Oh my god,” you breathe, covering your mouth as you stare at your handwriting on his screen. There’s a photo of the tiny, folded paper you handed him, with his comment right above it. It’s almost surreal. “He kept it…”

Rei is shaking your arm, eyes wide, practically bursting with excitement. “This is insane! Look at what he wrote!”

You both scream, clutching each other as the full realization hits you. You’re laughing, squealing, and just completely overwhelmed by the moment. You’ve never felt so giddy, your heart racing as everyone in the agora turns to stare. But right now, you couldn’t care less. After all the mystery and excitement, it’s as if the universe gave you the ultimate reward: he noticed, he remembered, and he thought it was amazing.

After all the excitement, you decide to follow him on Instagram. You’re still riding that high from the video he made, and the confidence surge pushes you to hit Follow. Heart pounding, you quickly put your phone down, trying not to overthink it.

Over the next few days, it feels like you’re seeing him everywhere. You’re with your friend Tzuyu in the hallway, talking and laughing, and suddenly—you spot him across the hall. You glance away quickly, but somehow, you keep bumping into him between classes, catching each other’s eye at lunch, or passing by him after gym. It’s almost like the universe is playing matchmaker, making your paths cross just enough to keep you on edge.

After school one day, you’re finally relaxing at home, replaying everything in your mind, when you get a notification. Your heart skips a beat as you see his name on your screen: Park Sunghoon sent you a message.

You open it, holding your breath as you read:

Good evening. I’m sorry to bother you, but are you the girl who gave me a letter?

The formal tone makes you smile. It’s a simple message, polite and careful, but it feels like a small victory. You can hardly believe this is real—he remembers, and he wants to talk.

You stare at the message, fingers hovering over the keyboard, your heart racing as you think of what to say. The moment you’ve been dreaming of is finally here.

You stare at the message, heart pounding, before finally typing, "Yes, I’m sorry if I bothered you with that."

A moment later, he replies: "No, it’s okay. But I have a question…"

Your heart nearly stops. "Do you like me a little bit?" he asks.

Panic sets in. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of how often you’ve been bumping into him, following him on social media, and it feels like your crush is written all over you. But the fear of rejection kicks in, and you decide to play it safe.

“Oh, no! I just wanted to be friends,” you type, trying to sound casual.

After a pause, he replies, "Oh, okay, I’m sorry hahaha. I just wasn’t sure because… I’m not really looking to like anyone right now."

Relief washes over you. You’re grateful you didn’t confess outright—dodging that bullet just saved you from heartbreak. The tension fades, and you decide to keep the conversation going with some small talk, asking him how he’s finding things at your school since he’s new.

He replies with a few polite answers, mentioning how everything is still unfamiliar, but he’s trying to get used to it. He seems a little shy, but you’re both warming up to the conversation, and it’s nice to chat without feeling nervous.

Finally, you end with, “Well, I hope everything goes well for you here!”

He likes your message, and it feels like the perfect note to end on. You close the chat, feeling both relieved and excited—no awkward confessions, no heartbreak, just a friendly connection. It’s enough for now.

It’s been a while since you last messaged Sunghoon. You’ve seen him around here and there, but lately, he’s been a little less present in your day-to-day life, and you can’t help but feel that familiar flutter every time your paths cross. You’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, and the anxiety has been building up. You couldn’t take it anymore.

It’s 11 PM, and you’re lying in bed, staring at your phone, when you finally decide to send him a message:

“Hey, I have a question. Why did you follow me if you had a feeling I was the letter girl?”

You’re nervous, fingers hovering over the send button. You’re hoping for an answer, but you also don’t know if you’re ready for whatever might come next. You wait, your heart racing.

A few moments pass before he replies:

“Well, I saw you were following my friend Jake, and I guess I figured you might be the one who gave me the letter. I wasn’t sure, but I thought maybe it was worth a shot.”

You freeze for a second, remembering that yes, you did follow Jake after you found his account, thinking it might give you a better chance to get noticed by Sunghoon. You hadn’t mentioned that to him, but now it all makes sense. But before you can reply, your phone buzzes again.

“I’m sorry, but I think we should go back to being strangers again. It’s not your fault. I just, I’m really shy, and I’ve had people do this to me before back in my old country, and I just can’t handle it. You’ll find people who are better for you than I am, ive met alot of people at our school and I know there's better people. I hope we can unfollow each other and act like none of this happened.”

The message hits you like a punch in the gut. Your heart sinks, and you feel the sting of rejection, though he’s not exactly saying no. It’s more like he’s pushing you away for his own reasons—his own fears and insecurities.

Your mind races, unsure of how to respond, before you even go to unfollow as he said, he had already removed you. Part of you wants to reassure him, to tell him that it’s okay, that you understand. But another part of you feels hurt, confused, and unsure what to say next.

You hesitate, staring at his message for a while, before you try to gather your thoughts. But all you can think is that he’s shutting himself off, just like you feared. The shy, reserved guy who never really let anyone in—he’s doing it again. And you’re left wondering if it’s really about you… or if it’s about him. You sent him a few paragraphs back, making sure he understands that you're not upset (when you clearly were) and that you understand, you wished him a good year and that you hope he isn't mad at you for trying to become friends. You couldn't sleep that night, you weren't upset at what he did but rather at yourself, embarrassed how hard you were trying and how stupid you looked following and stalking him everywhere.

The next day, you’re in complete shock. You woke up still feeling the sting of his messages, the rejection lingering in your chest. It feels like a weight that won’t lift, and the emotions hit you all at once. Embarrassment, confusion, sadness, and even a sense of guilt for not understanding him better—it’s a whirlwind inside you. You can’t stop thinking about him and what he said. You wanted things to go differently. You never meant to make him feel uncomfortable.

By lunch, you're sitting with Rei, and she can see it on your face. She gives you a concerned look as you sit down, trying to keep it together.

“What happened?” she asks gently, sensing something’s off.

Without thinking, you just let it out, the floodgates opening. “I messaged him last night. I asked why he followed me when he already knew I was the letter girl, and... he just kind of shut me down. He said we should be strangers again and that he’s too shy and I’ll find better people than him. He made it sound like it was my fault, like I was doing something wrong.”

Rei’s eyes widen, and she immediately reaches over, pulling you into a hug. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That’s a lot to take in.”

You break down, tears filling your eyes as you cry into her shoulder. “I just… I don’t want to make him feel bad. I didn’t mean to push him. He’s so shy, and I don’t know how to help him without making him feel even worse.”

Rei rubs your back soothingly. “Hey, listen, it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just being honest, and sometimes people are just too caught up in their own stuff to see things clearly. You didn’t know he felt that way. It’s not about you.”

You nod, but the guilt still eats at you. You can’t help but feel like maybe you pushed too hard or misread the situation, and now everything feels so awkward. You don’t want to make things worse for him, but you also don’t know how to fix it. He’s clearly struggling with his own fears and shyness, and that makes you feel bad for him, even if it hurts you too.

“I feel so embarrassed, Rei. I just… I thought I could talk to him. I thought maybe we could be friends, but now it’s like he’s pushing me away. I just wanted to know him better…” You sniffle, wiping your tears as if you were crying over someone you were in an actual relationship.

Rei looks at you with a reassuring smile, though it’s clear she feels for you too. “I get it. But you know what? You were brave enough to put yourself out there, and that’s something to be proud of. He’s just got his own stuff going on. It might take time, but if he sees that you’re not going anywhere, maybe he’ll come around. But for now, don’t blame yourself. You did nothing wrong.”

You take a deep breath, nodding through your tears. “I guess... I just feel so bad for him. He’s probably struggling with so much, and I didn’t even know.”

Rei squeezes your hand. “Yeah, but he’s lucky to have someone like you who cares. You just have to give him time. Don’t give up on yourself or on him yet.”

You wipe away the last of your tears, feeling a little better after talking it out. *“Thanks, Rei. I needed that.”*

She grins and pats your back. “Always. And remember, you’ve got this. Whatever happens, don’t let this bring you down.”

You manage a small smile, knowing that it’s not the end. You don’t know what’s going to happen with Sunghoon, but for now, you’ll give him space and try not to overthink it. At least for today, you’re not alone in this.

The excitement you once felt is slowly turning into confusion. You had imagined that things would continue like a scene from a movie—something sweet, maybe a little awkward, but ultimately fun. But the way everything’s been unfolding lately doesn’t match the fantasy you’d built in your head.

You’ve realized that you haven’t seen Sunghoon like you used to. It started with small signs at first. He’d arrive late to the bus station, and you'd notice that the usual place you’d see him was empty. Then it got worse—he stopped coming altogether. You couldn’t help but notice his absence, a dull ache that replaced the excitement you once had when your paths crossed.

Things only got stranger from there. You’d see him around school, but it was like he was avoiding you. You’d catch glimpses of him, but he’d always take a longer route to class or find ways to avoid being near you. It was like he was deliberately keeping his distance.

And then one day, you saw him in the hall. He was walking toward you, and your heart leapt. You waited for the familiar glance, a smile, or even the awkward moment of eye contact you’d grown used to. But when your eyes met, it wasn’t what you expected. The second he realized it was you, his gaze quickly dropped to his phone. He didn’t even acknowledge you.

Confused, you looked back as he passed, and when you did, his head jerked up from his phone, as though he was trying to act like nothing had happened. The moment was awkward, uncomfortable, and it felt like everything you had hoped for was slipping away.

It’s hard to describe the feeling. Part of you wanted to scream, demand answers, but the other part of you felt embarrassed, unsure of how to act. Was he avoiding you? Did he regret ever following you back and having that conversation? You couldn’t understand why he was shutting you out so suddenly, especially because you both never spoke, only those small messages, he was doing too much.

Your mind raced as you tried to piece it together. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that everything had shifted. He’d been polite, distant, and you could feel the walls going up between you two, even though you hadn’t done anything to push him away. All the movie moments—the ones that had once made you feel like something magical was happening—had turned into something awkward, cold, and uncertain.

You wanted to believe this was just a misunderstanding, but deep down, you couldn’t help but feel like you were losing him. And no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that maybe he just needed space, a small part of you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

The air is crisp with the Halloween season, and the school is buzzing with excitement as the annual Halloweenogrammes are being sold—a fundraiser where you can send a small bag of candy to someone with a little handwritten note. It feels like a sweet gesture, one that lets you send good vibes without too much fanfare. You can’t help but think of Sunghoon. He’s still on your mind, still lingering in the back of your thoughts, despite everything that’s happened.

You buy one for him, feeling a little hesitant but deciding it’s worth it. You want him to know that it’s okay to be himself, no matter how shy or reserved he might be. You’ve seen how he apologizes for being quiet, how he pulls away because he’s not sure what to do with attention. So, you write the message:

"You should never apologize for being yourself."

You add the little note at the end: "From a stranger." You don’t want to make things awkward or give him any false hope, but you want him to know that someone cares, even if you're supposed to be strangers now.

You wait all week, anticipation building, as the day to distribute the Halloweenogrammes finally arrives. Your heart skips a beat when you hear his name called. You hold your breath, waiting for him to do something, anything. You imagine he’ll smile, or maybe at least acknowledge it. But he doesn’t. The bag of candy sits in his hands as he leaves school, and you get no message, no acknowledgement, not even a glance in your direction. The silence stings more than anything. You were hoping for something, a tiny moment, just to show that it wasn’t all for nothing.

As the days pass, you can’t help but feel the weight of everything. You start to wonder if you misread the situation completely. It feels like he's slipped even further away, and that distance between you is growing more impossible to bridge.

So, you decide to send him one last message. You need closure, or at least an explanation, so you text him:

"Hey, I’ve been noticing you’ve been hiding more, and I feel like I’m making you uncomfortable. The bus situation and the way you’ve been avoiding me, I can’t help but feel like I’m the problem. I just wanted to let you know that I won’t bother you anymore, I won’t go near you again."

Your heart races as you send it, hoping that this will give you some answers, or at least some peace of mind.

A few minutes pass, and then your phone buzzes. His message comes through, and you hold your breath as you open it:

"It's not like I'm taking another bus because it's faster and closer :)"

You blink, rereading his message, confused and unsure what to make of it. He doesn’t mention anything about what you said. No apology, no explanation, just a comment about the bus. And then he adds:

"Don’t think about it too much."

Your mind is spinning. Why now? Why had he suddenly started taking a different bus when it wasn’t necessary? Why hadn’t he just done that before, when things were simpler? Why, when everything between you two was happening, did he choose this route?

You know the answer, but it doesn’t make sense. He never gave you a reason to stop. It’s not like he suddenly found a quicker way home—he could have taken the same bus before. You knew the stop he would get off at, it was a popular stop which had its location written on other buses. So why, now, when everything with you was starting to build up, did he suddenly choose to go a different way?

It doesn’t make sense. And yet, in some painful way, it feels like the final piece to the puzzle. Everything between you and him—the shy smiles, the awkward moments, the fleeting hope that something could happen—had finally come to an end. He was telling you, in his own quiet way, that he couldn’t handle this anymore, that he couldn’t keep up the connection, not even on a simple bus ride.

His message, though polite, felt like the closing of a door. It wasn’t harsh or cruel, but it wasn’t warm either. It was just… a goodbye without the words.

You close your phone, feeling the weight of everything settle in your chest. It’s over now, and you’re left with the quiet, final reality of it all. The movie moments you imagined for so long were never going to happen. And the silence, the distance, the unanswered questions—they’ll be the things you carry with you from here on out.

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