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lovieku · 3 days ago

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TRUE LOVE ⋆ 정국

when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

⋆⁺₊❅. 5/6 from christmas & chill

pairing tattoo artist!jk x fem reader

genre fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l

warnings jk 24 | oc 24, jk thinks he’s too cool for love, oc suffers from a chronic case of “i can fix him”, she eventually does, oc simps HARDDD and jk only pretends to be unaffected, yea he’s a bit of a dick sometimes but he’s also Very funny, brief description of panic attacks, male masturbation, kissing, idk what else to add i just rly rly love them and will think of them for the entirety of xmas season

word count 10.2k

author’s note hi lovies 🩷 it’s my last time with c&c 🙁 i’m kinda emotional omg… it’s been such a fun, warm and lovely week, and i love each one of you for showing endless support to this project <33 i’ll keep trying to not disappoint… please tell me if you like this!!! thank u always and always 🩷 luv u <3

banner by the gorgeous @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆

On the first day of December, your path crosses with thee Jeon Jeongguk’s after enough years for your brain to trip slightly before recognising him. But it would have been impossible not to—there’s likely a whole, well-preserved section of your thinking organ dedicated to that mortifying phase of high school, when your hormones turned life into an endless internal tug-of-war.

The moment your eyes widen at having him stand in front of you, you’re yanked unceremoniously into the past, brought back to buried, locked and left to gather dust feelings that have your teenage self’s screams echoing within you in a chorus of delight and cringe.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is simply following his duties as a tattoo artist. When he catches sight of you next to his appointed client on such a breezy day, the cold December air starting to find its space even in the confines of his studio, he only nods his chin upward at you in slow recognition.

It’s awkward, at first. Only because you make it.

You’d volunteered to accompany Eunbi, your best friend, to get her first tattoo as an early Christmas self-gift. Your mission was clear: support her, hold her hand if the pain became unbearable (though you’re probably the least dependable person when it comes to making clarity in situations of panic, as seen right now), and be the first to bask in her excitement as she finally sees what she’s always pictured to be inked on the skin of her forearm. A blue whale tattoo, large enough to make you wince just thinking about the needlework.

You’d never go through something like that. Never.

And that’s exactly what’s showing on your face when you’re met with Jeongguk’s full sleeve of tattoos, leaving you rooted to the spot.

You’d always known him to be the different kid, the quiet one with forced sharp eyes that canonically listened to alternative rock and glared at anyone who dared approach, whether to tease him or befriend him. He’d convinced himself that no one could ever understand him.

See, you’d instead fooled yourself into thinking you were the exception. That you did understand him.

Fourteen-year-old you had gone through some weird phases, and the one that resurfaces now at the vision of his adult self is the one centered entirely around him. You unashamedly had the biggest crush on Jeongguk. To you, he was mysterious and edgy—in an effortlessly cool way.

You’d tried everything. Offered him your lunch more times than you were left with any for yourself. Even cut your bangs to have them fall over your eyes to mimic his fringe, dyed a strand in blue, overhauled your wardrobe to align with his back-and-grey one. None of it worked. He never noticed.

But, thinking of it now, there’s no way he didn't. He definitely did. How could any boy turn a blind eye to a lovesick girl’s heartfelt Valentine’s letter, a hopeless romantic girl who almost cried on the spot when she got rejected? Jeongguk just chose to willingly ignore it.

These are all valid reasons as to why your functions seem to slow down in his unexpected presence. And you’re not going to deny nor fake that his calm, almost detached demeanor doesn’t flow through your body and right to your left eye, making it twitch with a slight tremor.

Yet, you must also admit that your teenage self was onto something. Jeongguk has changed drastically but he’s also stayed the same. You think fourteen-year-old him would be proud of where he is right now. Two piercings on his lower lip and one on his eyebrow, intricate ink tracing up his muscled arm, his… muscled arms. Wow. And then, his studio. His own studio, a place for him and his passion, one that he made into his job. That’s undeniably cool.

Maybe just not cool enough for you to be gaping like an idiot as he moves with purpose, adjusting your friend’s arm to position the stencil he had prepared, perfectly fitting in the space she had chosen. His muscles flex with every shift, and it’s impossible for you to go past that with the way the black beater he’s wearing is loose on his torso, but still clinging on his chest.

Eunbi notices, of course. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed and in return she doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when your usual chatter dries up entirely, only gulping obnoxiously noisily and alternating that with nervous silences. Jeongguk, too, catches on.

He’d always known you as obnoxious and noisy. In, huh, a good way. Or whatever.

Jeongguk just agrees that you were (and probably still are, if the pastel yellow skirt softly flowing down your legs paired with a cozy cream sweater and the full toothed grin you shoot at your friend are any indicators) the pinpoint embodiment of his opposite. You’ve always been talkative, smiley, and friendly, eager to help and to receive help, not in the slightest ever turning down the opportunity to blabber on, and on, and on.

Honestly, Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever truly listened to a single word of your rambling back in the day, especially during those times when you’d bounce up to him and launch into enthusiastic rants about obscure alternative bands he himself hadn’t even heard of. He respected the hustle, though. He’d always wondered where you found the time and energy to immerse yourself in music like that.

He much preferred when you were less trying so hard to be him and mirror his tastes, more when you gave up on impressing him and simply stayed true to yourself, the girl whose heart belonged to Justin Bieber and One Direction. Truthfully, he fucked with them. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. His quiet, brooding image wouldn’t survive that revelation.

What he respected the most was your resilience. After all the times he rejected you and your awkward blurts of confessions, you still didn’t think it was enough of a reason for your villain origin story to take off, and instead remained the same frustratingly positive ray of sunshine you’d always been.

Now, as Jeongguk works on the tattoo in front of him, the very design that caused all these long-buried memories to rise back, his dark eyes flick toward you sitting on a stool in a near corner every now and then, a hint of confusion in his expression each time you take more than five seconds to reply to his small talk.

It’s just, you’re a bit taken aback. Since when does he do small talk? The foreign smoothness with which Jeongguk handles interactions is so far removed from the sullen boy you used to know. You’re not prepared for this version of him. It’s disarming, to say the least.

Enough time has passed for you to settle into the odd scenario, your current best friend and your long-standing high school crush in the same room. Slowly but surely, your curiosity sparkles again, and the signature tendency to let thoughts tumble out of your mouth unchecked returns to you naturally.

“Ouch, that looks painful.”

Jeongguk snorts, eyes trained on Eunbi’s arm as he glides the tattoo needle with precise strokes that have his brows pinching and the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips, a habit you remember from the past but one you’ve never found quite so distracting before.

Still, he multitasks and responds without missing a beat, “Wanna try?”

Wow. This is, like, the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. It spurs you on to do anything it takes to hear more of his voice, the sound of it definitely deeper than the shy tones you struggled to coax out of him ten years ago.

That is probably why you literally lie, “Hm. Maybe. I was thinking of getting one actually. In the future.”

Eunbi chokes on her spit, her chest coughing with the sudden, blatantly fake revelation, and Jeongguk promptly pauses, lifting the needle from her skin as his tattooist reflexes kick in. While your friend apologizes between a clearing of her throat and sinks back into the chair, she doesn’t keep from glaring at you, her expression screaming What the hell are you doing?

You deadpan. You’ll explain everything later and it’ll all make sense. And you know this will inevitably end up being added to the list of the many embarrassing facts she knows about you and threatens you with when she wants to go clubbing and you don’t.

Jeongguk uses the brief interruption to glance up at where you’re perched in the corner of his peripheral vision, just to square you up and down with a skeptical arch of his brow, “Really?”

You scoff, smoothing out the creases on your skirt as if the fabric is somehow responsible for the lie you just told, “Is that shocking?”

He hums, returning to his work with the buzz of the needle filling the studio again, his voice padded the more he gets closer to Eunbi’s forearm, “I just find it hard to believe such a princess like you could handle any pain.”

You gulp.

What you’re getting from this conversation is that Jeongguk has always had an idea of who you are in his mind all along. That he’s always perceived you in some way. As much as your inner fourteen-year-old is swooning at the attention, gobbling up each of the tiny crumbles he’s giving you, it doesn’t sit right with you. What exactly does he think of you?

“Test me.”

He shrugs, eyes fixated on the shade he’s perfectioning with black ink, “Busy now.”

“I’ll go pay for mine. I saw you have one last free spot today,” you announce, the words tumbling out with more confidence than you feel. You’re already on your feet before the sentence is fully formed, betraying the fact that your nosy tendencies had gotten the better of you earlier. You’d discreetly glanced at his appointment book when Jeongguk and Eunbi were finalizing her tattoo details and negotiating the final price at the desk.

He hums, head tilting slightly, “And I wanted to spend it bumming around.”

“Too bad. You’ll have to postpone that.”

You walked into this studio swearing you’d never let a needle even brush you.

Now you’re stretched out on a leather bench, Jeongguk leaning over you with a stencil in hand, gloved fingers moving with careful precision.

The design you’d chosen came from his portfolio—a delicate illustration of two butterflies in motion, their soft threads intertwining. You’d flipped through countless pages of bold skulls and intricate linework before settling on this.

The spot you’d chosen for the tattoo was the flat, firm plane between your breasts. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just a place you’d always liked. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that nature hadn’t exactly blessed you in the cleavage department. Subconsciously, perhaps, you thought that adding something there might give the illusion of more.

“Tehe,” you can’t stop the breathy giggle that escapes as the cool paper brushes against your skin. Your hand is pressed to your bra, holding it in place as best you can, though the situation feels so surreal it’s hard to focus on anything but the ridiculousness of it all.

Jeongguk glances up at you with a glare that’s more exasperated than angry before returning to the delicate task at hand, “What’s funny?”

Your voice wobbles, “I just— I tend to laugh during serious moments.”

“Oh. Weird.”

“Sorry.”

With a small sigh, he smooths the stencil, and once it’s transferred he hands you a square mirror, waiting for your approval. You nod, the butterflies now perfectly poised in their eternal dance, and Jeongguk doesn’t waste a moment.

The buzz of the needle fills the room as he leans closer, one gloved hand resting on the upper part of your chest to steady himself. He’s mere seconds from beginning the inking process when another laugh bubbles out of you.

Jeongguk sits back abruptly, dropping his pen onto the metal tray with an audible clink. Tilting his head, he levels you with a look of thinly veiled irritation. “I really can’t work if your chest keeps moving.”

“Sorry,” you blurt again, turning your head to face the wall. You clamp your lips together tightly, mentally scrolling through every sad memory you can conjure. Think of something awful. Your childhood dog dying. Okay, maybe not that sad—

“You haven’t changed a bit since high school. Always smiling like you live surrounded by flowers and rainbows,” Jeongguk’s mutter vibrates against your chest, warm breath fanning over the cold skin, distracting you from your no-giggling mission.

The unexpected observation has your brows furrowing in a mildly offended frown, and banter is ready on your tongue. “You’re just the same too, Gguk. The emo boy who thinks he’s too cool for a smile.”

“I’m not an emo boy. The fuck,” he scoffs, kissing his teeth and murmuring more of his indignation under his breath.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. I can teach you.”

The whirring needle glides across your skin with a slightly firmer touch, making you hiss softly under your breath. He seems unbothered by the reaction, and instead bothered by your words, “Teach me what.”

“How to smile a bit more,” you reply, your voice laced with mockery as you keep your gaze firmly fixed on the wall. The smirk playing on your lips is triumphant; he walked right into your little jab, hehe.

Your mind is already racing, piecing together the beginning of a sarcastic rant about how his perpetual scowl probably contributed to his mysterious high school persona. For the sake of his ego, you won’t add how it worked in his favor, how more than one girl (your own self) found his untouchable vibe completely irresistible.

Even though, thinking back, he looked ridiculous. His big, round, slightly scared-of-the-world eyes truly didn’t belong with the heavy black eyeliner.

But before you can get a single word out, Jeongguk straightens his posture, pulling away from your chest. With a practiced motion, he tosses one of his gloves onto the counter behind him, his expression cool and indifferent. “It’s done.”

“Done?!” you exclaim, tilting your chin down to look at your chest. You go slightly cross-eyed trying to catch a glimpse of the design now inked onto your skin. Forever.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even feel it.”

Jeongguk seems equally done with small talk, transitioning into a professional explanation of the tattoo’s aftercare step. His tone is calm but clipped, and you can’t tell if it’s his usual demeanor or just reserved for you. He also hands you a small tube of cream of which you’re not sure the use of, too enthralled by the vision of his colored sleeve this up close.

And still laying on the leather bed, you almost reach to trace one of the many lines with your finger before he interrupts, “You can pay with Yoongi at the entrance.”

Clearing your throat, you sit up, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt as Jeongguk turns his back to you, his focus already back on cleaning his tools. You still are not over, “Thank you, Jeongguk. Can I— huh. Can I get your number?”

He pauses mid-motion, just long enough for the silence to stretch thin and taut. Turning around to study your features, he stares you up and down with knitted brows and a hostile kind of confusion painting his expression. “… For what exactly?”

“In case anything happens with the tattoo.”

Jeongguk stills for a second, eyes narrowing slightly, then turns back to what’s keeping him so occupied with a noncommittal grunt, “Huh. Sure. Yoongi has my business cards at the desk. You can ask him. Have a good day.”

With Eunbi practically dragging you out of the room, you don’t have the chance to say anything more, though your chest burns with indignation. It’s not that you expect him to fall over himself at the chance to catch up, but the sheer indifference is maddening.

Should you pretend you don’t care either? You could. But really, who are you fooling? You still have those old diaries buried somewhere in your closet, their pages crammed with his name written in looping, lovesick cursive. That little girl in you never truly died.

On the fourth day of December, you finally text him. It’s about your tattoo, of course. There’s not much else to say to him, but when his only reply to your picture of the healing process is a yellow thumbs up, you find your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Words start forming before you’ve fully processed them, and before you know it, you hit send.

You [3:39 p.m]: btw u still friends with kim tae?

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: Yes

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: He’s my best friend

You [3:43 p.m.]: ohhh, cool

jeongguk [3:45 p.m.]: You want his number?

You [3:46 p.m.]: no… i’m good with yours ☺️

You can’t help but giggle at how his typing bubbles appear and then fade for a whole minute, biting your lower lip with a sheepish grin, savoring the silent victory. You’re doing this for your fourteen-year-old self, who would’ve squealed at the thought of making Jeon Jeongguk flustered. But you’re a different girl now. You’ve changed. No man could ever reject—

jeongguk [3:48 p.m.]: If there’s nothing else about the tattoo then 👋

“Hmph,” your frown is so pronounced that you feel your chin aching and your wrinkles prematurely deepening. Well, this is not the first time you come face first with his sour antics. Only now, you’re prepared.

You [3:48 p.m.]: yall hanging out soon? let me join

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: Why lol

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: He barely even remembers you probs

You [3:50 p.m.]: who would not remember me

jeongguk [3:50 p.m.]: The only thing i’m now remembering about you is how I couldn’t stand your ass

You gasp, hand coming up to brush against your parted lips. With a huff, you hastily click at your keyboard, “Mean. Sent. Ugh.”

On the sixth day of December, your persistence pays off, and you find yourself at a random bar you’d never been to before, seated with both Jeongguk and Taehyung.

Between Jeongguk’s cigarette breaks—forcing the three of you to brave the cold outside—and brief moments in corners of the cramped place where the music feels muffled against the walls, you manage to catch up with Taehyung. The rest of the time though, the noise inside is so deafening that it makes any kind of meaningful conversation impossible.

Even more when a random girl slides into the booth next to him, capturing his attention entirely, leaving you and Jeongguk in paradoxical silence.

The tattoo artist has been glued to his phone with his head down for the last 20 minutes, and now you alternate between observing his side profile, roughened by the piercings and a more defined jawline, and analysing the weird dynamic that is beginning to form between Taehyung and the girl, sitting in front of you.

Alone with your thoughts and, well, the pulsating music, you feel yourself getting unreasonably closer to symptoms you know all too well, that threaten to have you spiraling. You shake your head, forcing it to stop. There’s no reason for anxiety to visit you at such an inconvenient time.

But of course, the little voice in your head starts listing all the totally valid motives why this is indeed the perfect time for it to visit you.

The bar feels suffocating on your skin.

Your dress clings too tightly.

The couple facing you is shamelessly close to making out.

Jeongguk sighs in visible boredom.

You shouldn’t have come. Hell, you shouldn't have suggested it in the first place. A smarter version of yourself would have brought Eunbi for balance, for comfort. But in your foolishness, you thought this could be an opportunity for you and Jeongguk to catch up. Instead, you feel foreign to him, foreign to this pub booth, and the air begins to feel foreign to your lungs. You’ve never liked bars, clubs, or places with loud music.

You sniffle, looking down at your lap. Then up at the ceiling. Then around the room. It keeps spinning and booming with volume that only adds to the feeling of helplessness. Quick, quick, quick.

What are five things that you can see?

Five. Your gaze falls on Taehyung and the girl, their lips and tongues clumsily entangled as they laugh between sloppy kisses. No help there. The air catches harder in your throat.

Four. Your empty glass, its smudged rim a reminder of the single drink you had, now sitting uncomfortably in your stomach.

Three. Your scuffed heels, their tips worn to the nub despite your best efforts to hide it with a marker.

Two. The swirling lights above the bar, dizzying as they flash brighter and brighter.

One. Jeongguk’s tattooed hand on your thigh.

His fingers dig into the skin, shaking you alarmedly, with a force you’ve never known from him, not even when it came to stopping your shaking stomach as you were laying on the studio’s leather bed.

Head snapping up to face him, you’re met with a perfect resemblance of how you must look right now. Wide eyes, knitted brows, nose flaring and exhaling, and you try to follow the movements of his mouth, but they jumble together annoyingly in your brain. You lean closer, narrowed orbs still fixated on his lips to try and read them. Are… you… ok—

“___, you’re scaring me. Hey, hello? Are you okay?”

Jeongguk moves from your thigh to your shoulders, jolting you gently but firmly from the fog that is threatening to cloud up your brain. The sudden clarity hits you, but you still stumble forward, your weight toppling over his chest. With it, your head dips rapidly, hurtling toward the sharp edge of the table, and before Jeongguk knows it his instinct snaps and he catches you promptly.

The next steps blur together. You vaguely register the boy next to you standing up and pulling you along with him, his broad shoulders supporting one of your arms while his inked one secures around the small of your waist, holding you firmly against him.

Then, it’s nothing but brief flashes. Jeongguk pressing a water bottle to your lips. Sitting you down on the stairs outside the pub. Holding your hair back as you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. Cracking a smile to make you laugh, showing off his tattoos in exaggerated detail like it’s the grandest tour of your life. Opening the door to his car and gently easing you into the passenger seat, ensuring the seatbelt clicks into place.

Inside his car, you slowly feel your senses come back to you.

At a redlight that you recognise as the one near your apartment complex, you muster a small and hoarse thank you. Jeongguk only hums low, eyes fixated on the road and fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.

Before a sheepish smile can make its way on your lips and spread across your face, your head twitches back as your brows furrow. Your thoughts suddenly catch up with you, “Hey, how do you know the way to my flat?”

His gaze briefly flicks toward you in annoyance, then back to the road. “You literally just told me.”

“Oh.” A beat passes before you giggle softly. “Don’t remember.”

Jeongguk mutters something intelligible under his breath, and next thing you know he’s turning down your street and slowing in front of the building that matches the number you gave him. Given your current state, he begins to question if that is even the right one.

“This one!” You point at the tall front gate with an almost childlike excitement, back shifting slightly from the seat as your grin stretches wide. Jeongguk grimaces. Why the fuck do you look like you’ve been reuinted with your home after years apart, as if you weren’t there just a couple hours ago?

“Right. Huh, you good with going back on your own?”

“Yes. I’d hate to bother you further. I’m sorry for this, I… was getting better, I guess.”

The sad confession doesn’t land with the weight it should, softened by the smile painted on your lips and the chuckle you let out as if it were nothing. Jeongguk’s eyelid twitches, unsettled by the unnecessary happiness that always seems to drip from you, even when it doesn’t belong.

“‘S okay. Have a good night,” he awkwardly bows his head, waiting for you to exit the car. When you stay still, he clears his throat, adding just to fill the silence, and perhaps because he means it, “Huh, and make sure to rest a lot.”

You take a moment, maybe longer than you should, to study his features up this close. You particularly fixate on the way his eyes dart everywhere but never land on yours. Then, with your signature toothy grin, you bow back and open the car door, leaving with a string of thank yous, and get home safe, and I’ll text you, and please, reply to me, and bye.

Jeongguk has to fight a smile of his own.

On the tenth day of December, you realise you want him. Even more badly than your fourteen-year-old self ever did. Which is frankly insane.

You don’t know if it was the natural way he looked after you during your episode, or his dry sarcasm as he actually started replying to your random updates throughout the day.

But no, it was definitely the selfie he sent you after what he said was a long day. Messy hair, tired eyes, a hint of a smile. You’d struggled to even gulp down your saliva when the picture popped up in your chat, and maniacally stared at it with eyes glued to the bright screen before sending one of your own. He had replied with Cute. followed by Your hair pin is cute.

That is why you find yourself facing… Yoongi? If you remember correctly. The guy at the front desk of Jeongguk’s studio.

You beam at him, and what you’re met with instead is a confused stare. You inhale, “Hi. Is Jeongguk in?”

Yoongi scratches his head, muttering, “He’s busy with a client.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” you wave off his concern. “Can I wait here?”

The boy hesitates, looks unsure the more your interaction develops, and he glances between you and the empty waiting area. He relents with furrowed brows, “Sure… Huh, It’s a back tattoo, so it’ll take him a while.”

You shrug and plop yourself onto the leather sofa, seemingly unfazed, “I like waiting.”

Crossing your legs, you take in the studio’s atmosphere, eyes drifting to the dark walls lined with framed artwork and certificates. You spot Jeongguk’s name on many of those.

For the next fifteen minutes, you try distracting yourself by flipping through the stack of tattoo magazines on the coffee table. You wince at inked heads, faces, butts, and even… more private parts. Deciding this world is definitely not for you, you slam the book shut.

By the time an hour passes, you’re fighting a battle with your lack of sleep. The third yawn you manage to stifle, but the fourth escapes before you can stop it. Yoongi, seated at the desk, doesn’t bother hiding his unimpressed stare. Still, he’s polite enough to offer you a glass of water, a coffee, or even a chance to join him for a cigarette break.

You decline all of it, though your throat does feel dry.

Maybe you should have planned this with a bit of rationality. Or at least gotten more sleep. Now, your every blink is slower, eyelids batting to shut and taking longer to flutter open again. Hm, this feels nice. You’ll just let them rest for a bit longer. And longer. And a bit more.

The next time you open your eyes, Jeongguk’s face is inches away, his warm hand resting firmly on your arm. You jolt upright with a startled yelp.

“Jeongguk.”

He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in an unmistakably mocking smirk. “Hey. You don’t have a bed?”

You sit up, forcing Jeongguk to step back and straighten to his full height. Your neck cranes upward to glare at him, brows furrowed in what you hope is an intimidating glare, though you sport a pout that is all but menacing, “Shut up.”

He clicks his tongue, turning back to round the desk and fiddle with the appointment book, clearly unbothered. You take the moment to rub your eyes—only to remember, too late, that you’d worn makeup. A quick glance around reveals how much has changed since you last let your eyelids flutter open. The lights in the studio are dim, the hallway is dark, and every door is shut. Yoongi is nowhere in sight. It’s just the two of you in the deathly quiet space.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your parted lips, “Did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry. I was probably really tired from yesterday.”

Jeongguk hums, focus still locked on the book in front of him, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask why you came here in the first place, and doesn’t acknowledge your apology. Ugh. This is humiliating.

Before you can stand, you feel something heavy draped over your body. It’s a jacket. Definitely not yours, since you never took it off. At least not consciously. No, this is a worn black leather one on which his scent lingers. You tug it closer, puzzled, and then look up at him, holding it out. “Did I steal this in my sleep?”

Jeongguk scrunches his nose, “Ew, are you a sleepwalker?” Locking the till, he strolls over to you and plucks the jacket from you, casually slipping it on. “No, I put it on you. Wanted to see how long someone could feel safe enough to pass out in my studio. Thinking of turning this place into a daycare. I’ll have you play in the morning, get some lunch, nap time...”

There’s a beat of silence in which his sarcasm lingers in the air, and you stare at him, unamused. He shrugs, smirk unwavering.

You huff, “I regret coming here.”

“Yeah, why did you come here?”

Smoothing down your pink wool sweater, you stand up to stretch with zero shame. Then, fluttering your lashes at him, you assert with a smile, “You’re coming with me to the Christmas markets. This Sunday.”

Jeongguk groans like the idea physically pains him, “Oh, I would fucking hate that.”

Ignoring him, you zip up your puffer jacket and rock on your toes, “Pick me up at seven, okay?”

He glares, unimpressed at your excitement, before heading toward the entrance and pulling a hefty set of keys from his pocket, “I don’t even remember where you live.”

You hurry after him, following him outside and shuffling closer in your coat at the cold air hitting you. Watching as he locks the door and pulls down the rolling shutter with its red-and-black skull graffiti, you chirp, “You’ll have to text me for that.”

Jeongguk rises up again, giving you a slow once-over. He seems distracted by your hair before snorting, “You’re talking like I’m the one who spent their afternoon napping in my studio just to drop this bomb and leave. Couldn’t you just text me this?”

You shrug innocently. He sighs, reaching out for you, “Do you need a ride hom—”

“Bye!”

You spin on your heel and skip off in the opposite direction before he can let his own greeting out, waving a gloved hand behind you. Jeongguk stays where he is, arm still held out.

Do you even have a car? He hopes so—it’s freezing out.

With another sigh, he shakes his head and tugs his jacket tighter around himself. Why are you so fucking weird?

On the fourteenth day of December, your arm is looped tightly through Jeongguk’s as you stroll through the Christmas markets, burying your face further in your scarf to shield against the icy air, and with each few step you gasp at things that the boy next to you finds utterly unimpressive.

You stop at nearly every stand, eyes glowing with the warm Christmas fairy lights strung all around, effortlessly picking up conversations with the vendors and melting even the most stoic faces with the scrunching of your nose at every grin and the exaggerated nods following descriptions of their crafts.

Through all of it, Jeongguk remains put at your side, his arm linked with yours and a subtle pout on his lips. When you tease him about it, he simply shrugs, and you figure it’s just his natural expression. You find that oddly endearing.

He still humors your enthusiasm, offering low hums or murmured praise whenever you exclaim you’ve finally found what you’ve been searching for everywhere, and he offers to pay every time, the gesture so casual that he doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

When you bow to the nth seller, clutching yet another bag of sweet treats tightly to your chest, Jeongguk exhales and resumes slow walking beside you, “I don't like these places.”

You glance up at him, fluffy hat almost slipping off before he promptly secures it back on your head with a gesture so smooth you hardly notice it. You instead wonder, “Then why are we here now?”

He slips his hand into his pocket, “Because you threatened me.”

“With a really good time.”

“If this is your version of a good time, you might as well kick me in the balls. That probably feels better.”

You gasp, halting in your tracks to glare at him. When he lets a small chuckle topple out of him, you think you might forgive him. No, you’re more than sure with the way his smile lingers. You sheepishly look away, muttering, “Don’t tempt me, emo boy.”

“I’m not—”

“Oh yes, you are,” you interrupt, snapping your face back to his. Clearing your throat, you prepare your best imitation of him, exaggerating a frown and lowering your voice, “I’m so different, I hate Christmas.”

Jeongguk scoffs, pulling you tighter to him when a scooter unexpectedly zips past you. You yelp, instinctively shuffling closer to his arm. He continues the conversation casually, unaffected, “That’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard. And also, I never said that.”

Releasing the breath you held for a moment too long, you uncertainly keep your slow stroll going, only narrowing your orbs at him, “It’s written all over your face.”

“I love Christmas.”

The admission is small, his voice soft and almost reluctant, like it pains him to reveal something so simple and obvious as loving Christmas. When you lean your chin on the puffed arm of his jacket, he doesn’t look down at you, his gaze fixed ahead, guiding the two of you through the chaos of the busy street.

You chirp, your steps stumbling, “Really?

Only then he shifts his attention to you, steadying you with his other arm wrapping around your figure in what seems like a hug, before he lifts you up by the neck of your coat and retreats just enough to face you. His lips press into a straight line as he nods, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes the more he stares in yours, “Yeah, really. I just don’t like… crowded spaces.”

You can’t help but think back to what happened just a week ago. The exact reason why the spirals in your brain wouldn’t stop twisting and tangling is now slipping from his lips in a voice that quietens as he seems to grasp the delicacy of his own confession.

He doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him. Drawn-up brows over wide and sparkling eyes—the only part of your face visible beneath your scarf—stare at him with something too tender, too focused, that makes him uneasy. He turns his head to the side, the tips of his ears red not only from the cold, and pulls you along toward another stand, an almost nervous distraction.

It’s your turn to frown. Maybe the one that’s permanently plastered on his face tonight isn’t just a reflection of his usual sullen demeanor. With a knot tightening in your chest, you can’t help but feel like you dragged him into something he truly hated, and that he wasn’t just pretending to.

What if this isn’t just your evil inner voice talking? What if this isn’t just overthinking, but the factual truth of your current reality? He’s hating every second of this but still enduring it because— you catch your breath with a long and strained inhale, because—

“Hey, dimples. You okay?”

Jeongguk moves to stand in front of you, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, a stance eerily reminiscent of that night you were just thinking back to. He nods at you, “Breathe with me, hm?”

You find yourself quickly adjusting to his comforting aura, drawn in by the reassurance in his eyes trained on you, never wavering, watching closely as you begin to mirror the measured rise and fall of his chest, your breathing gradually syncing with his until the tightness in your chest starts to ease.

When you feel your feet touching the ground again, you offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m okay. Sorry. Just…” You quickly scan your surroundings, eyes landing on a colorful stand, “Wait here a second, okay?”

Jeongguk lets you slip away, fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He takes a few hesitant steps closer, careful not to crowd you but unable to tear his eyes away from your next actions, how your grin comes back on your lips with unpracticed ease, lighting up your face as easy talk flows between you and the seller. A few coins trade hands, and soon you’re holding two churros, their chocolate-dipped ends threatening to drip onto the ground.

You don’t hesitate, biting into one of them before it has the chance to make a mess, and with a quick nod of your head you motion for Jeongguk to follow. He does so, only after taking the churros from your hands, and letting you seek his warmth again with an arm snaking under his. He’s only letting you do this because it’s fucking cold, no other reason.

You walk, and walk, guiding him along until you find a quieter corner, away from the bustle, where you two stand isolated from the rest. The dim lighting casts a softer glow, and the distant hum of chatter and music fades into a gentle background noise.

Glancing up at him, you flash a playful smile before leaning in to bite another chunk of the churro he’s holding, your laughter spilling out as he grimaces in exaggerated disgust and pulls the sweet out of your reach. You settle onto a nearby bench, patting the empty spot beside you invitingly.

Jeongguk is unsure of what this means. He takes slow steps towards you, handing you your churro—which you take eagerly, already chewing on it—before tilting his head back in mild confusion, “But… you wanted to visit the markets.”

You shake your head, your bug eyes meeting his as you speak around a mouthful of sugar and chocolate, “There’s no point if you’re not going to enjoy it.”

The look you’re giving him is one he’s seen countless times before—familiar, and annoyingly reminiscent of ten years ago. It’s the same look that, he’s convinced, is solely responsible for making his knees weak and his fingers jittery, no longer something he can blame on the cold. You’re unbelievably frustrating.

He clicks his tongue, looking away, “You’re fucking weird.”

You giggle, humming, “If weird is a synonym for whipped, then sure.”

He has to fight the twitch of his lips. Fakes a gag instead. You chuckle louder. Only then, he hints at a smile, “C’mon. Let’s go check out some other stuff.”

“But—”

He interrupts, pulling you up by your forearm, “I’m hungry.”

The next hour you spend wandering around is made of Jeongguk’s small, imperceptible ways of cracking: his pout less prominent, more replaced by lips pulled into a tight line or in a mildly pursued scowl as you ask him which beanie looks better—the pink or purple one; his so evident sarcasm as he comments on how the old vendor was totally flirting with you, or when he mockingly adds to your over-the-top excitement every time you spot a dog. All in all, he’s more relaxed. More himself.

You then find yourself standing in front of the churros stall from earlier, the warm scent tugging you closer. Without hesitation, you ask the lady behind the counter for another four churros—this time with extra sugar. You add two thank yous.

To fill the waiting, you pick up casual conversation with the woman, until she pauses mid-sentence, wrinkled hand coming to rest over her heart as her gaze flits between you and Jeongguk, her crinkled eyes lighting with a sudden fondness and a quiet, content smile finds its space on her chapped lips, “You two look perfect together.”

Jeongguk snorts, “Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you, auntie!” You chirp, and your grin is so wide it squeezes your eyes into crescents. You accept the first churro she hands over, biting into it and talking through it, “These are delicious. Is the recipe a secret or can you share it with me?”

The woman laughs, clearly flustered by your energy, and leans in with a conspiratorial expression, though she gives in pretty soon, “It is a secret, but… Oh, c’mon. A pretty lady like you deserves to know.”

You burst into chuckles, joined by auntie’s own rolling and carrying a contrasting warmth to the cold air. Jeongguk, for his part, stands slightly to the side, observing. You still cling to his arm, even as the vendor reaches over to gently smooth her fingers through your curls, complimenting the way they frame your face. You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation, but there’s a dimpled smile stretching on your cheeks that gives you away.

Before you leave, the lady points to Jeongguk, voice growing earnest, “You, handsome. I can see you’re a good guy, so you probably don’t need my advice. But treat her right, yes?”

Jeongguk stills for a second and stumbles over an awkward nod, managing to force a smile that has you stifling a laugh under your scarf. You tug him away with a cheerful wave to your new friend, promising her you’ll come visit again before Christmas.

Once you’re at a safe distance, he mutters, “Why did you not tell her that we’re not together?”

You tilt your head considering his question, “It’s not like she knows us. She looked like she adored you. I didn’t want to ruin that for her. Maybe seeing a young couple like us really means a lot to her.”

Jeongguk observes how the more you explain, the more you’re convincing yourself as much as him, eventually solidifying your reasoning as you nod, muttering some more under your breath. He scoffs, looking away to hide his lips twitching.

When he turns back he’s frowning, though it doesn’t quite match the way he lets you hook arms again, your pastel pink bag hanging from his shoulders. Still, he sulks as though the mere thought of your observation has him shivering, and not with the cold, “We’re not a couple.”

Jeongguk barely gets to let his unnecessarily petty comment out before you drag him with an unusual strength over to another stand, his voice not even touching your ears, “Oh, let’s go over there, Gguk!”

On the twenty-first day or December, you send him a picture of your tattoo.

You had been talking non-stop ever since your… date? Or was it just a hangout? Whatever it was, it’s been a week, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling at a fucking screen too many times a day for his linking. It’s irritating. Even brings his phone with him to the bathroom in case you text him. Not because he cares. No, it’s practical. What if you ever had an emergency and he was the only one who could help?

Most of the time it’s just you sending TikToks, but he clicks on the links with the same urgency he’d reply to a genuine plea for help. He doesn’t really want to think of the reason why.

Now, this picture—it catches Jeongguk off guard.

It doesn’t even look like it’s about the tattoo. Not really. It feels like an excuse, a flimsy pretext for you to show yourself to him. The tattoo—the one he himself inked—is there, yes. But it’s not at all the main focus of the photo that tightens his grip on his phone.

You’re wearing a thin, pink tank top with delicate lace trim, the straps barely clinging to your shoulders. Your fingers hook under the neckline, tugging it down just enough to expose the tattoo nestled between the soft curve of your breasts. The angle of the shot is deliberate, he can tell. Your back arches slightly off what he assumes is your bed, and your face is cropped out, save for your glossed lips, full and slightly parted, catching the dim light.

Jeongguk blinks, hard. Then again. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, the low light of his phone screen doing little to soften the image burning itself into his mind. His eyes dart upward, scanning his surroundings, just to make sure everything is in place. The shop is empty, the door is closed, the hum of quiet settles over the space.

Looking down, the picture still stares back at him paired with a single message.

Annoying [11:39 p.m.]: do you think it’s healed? idk about this stuff, need your help 🥺

He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what this is. He alternates between the photo and your words, jaw ticking and tightening more with the seconds flowing.

It’s almost cruel, the way you’re testing him like this. He tries to push the feeling down, to reject the buzz of heat pooling low in his stomach. You know him well enough to be aware that he won’t reply to something like this. A stupid, unnecessary message. The tattoo is healed—he told you that a week ago, clear as day. There’s no reason for you to ask again.

What’s the purpose of this?

He gets a distorted idea when he shifts uncomfortably in place, the dull ache tightening his pants almost unbearable now.

Jeongguk groans and locks his phone, tossing it onto the counter as if that will put an end to this. He tries to refocus on his tasks, the last ones before he clocks off. Cleaning needles, tossing used stencils.

But his heavy balls keep sending desperate, silent prayers to his brain, to please let them have this. Just this once.

It’s been a bad day. Two of his appointments canceled last minute, leaving him to sit around bored. The last client showed up drunk and wouldn’t stop trying to flirt with him. His coworkers were loud and distracting, and to top it all off, the heater broke, leaving the studio freezing cold.

It’s been such a bad day.

So, would there be any harm? It’s not like anyone will know. Not you, not his friends. He’s the only one that will. And he’s far more willing to live with this dirty secret rather than with his hard dick straining achingly in its confines.

Jeongguk abruptly snatches up his phone again, unlocking it to the same picture that caused him to brush the device aside just minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath, thumb hovering over the screen. You won’t get no reply to him. But if you knew what he was up to right now, you would probably geek. Tease him, with your warm smile that digs dimples in your cheek, hopping on your toes to poke at his chest playfully, with those perfectly manicured hands of yours.

“Shit,” his free hand is already pushing the jeans down along with his boxers, and he drops his weight onto the nearest stool as he grips at the base of his thick cock, eyes devouring the image of you in the empty chat.

He doesn’t zoom in. That would feel too shameless. But he finds it oddly better like this. Is it weird that your text, so innocently worded, is turning him on? That the simple idea of you needing his help is enough to have his hips jerking?

What could you possibly need his help for? Fuck. The different ideas that pool his mind have him squeezing harder at his stinging tip.

Jeongguk focuses on your dainty hand, slim pointer finger snaking under the collar of your flimsy shirt to show yourself to him, and your small boobs spill from the sides with a delicious, soft swell. He hisses when he pictures that same hand working on him instead, his warm mouth stuffed with your stiff nipples, visible through the sheer material.

He can’t help the loud groan leaving his lips, wrist flickering up and down in a motion that feels sloppy way too soon, hips jutting up to fuck into his tight fist. Throwing his head back, he sees you even behind closed eyelids.

He pictures your delicate figure sprawled on his bed, long lashes batting up at him as you sheepishly hide with your cheek to your shoulder. Can clearly make out how you’d sit on his lap instead, unsteady breath fanning over his lips, using his long shaft to make yourself cum. The whole time, he sees the tattoo on your chest, the one that is forever on you, eternally a reminder of him.

When he lets his head topple forward again, his bright screen still stares at him, only because a new message pops up in the chat. He startles, and his cock throbs in his hand.

Annoying [11:52 p.m.]: oh, and i miss you.

“Oh, fuck,” the curse is strained through a loud whine, and only followed by more of his full moans filling the room. His brows knit as his hand moves rapidly, palm collecting the precum spreading embarrassingly fast on his tip and rolling it down his length.

He focuses on your parted lips, the soft curve of your breast, your hard nipples begging to be sucked and spit on. Your last text has flashes of your bug-like eyes staring up at him seizing his mind.

That’s what undoes him. He’s delirious as he lets out his every sound, freely, unchecked, not caring about how loud he is, whimpering as he gets closer to his climax. When he thinks of those eyes locking with his, kneeling before him, eager and willing to swallow his every drop, he cums. Hard.

Jeongguk pumps everything he can out of him, and it’s messy—spilling over his hand, staining his clothes, pooling on the floor. His chest heaves with the effort, and the sensation of abandon he feels is so pleasurable, energy drained but leaving him with a lightness that threatens to make his cock hard again.

Fuck. He can’t afford that happening if you’re not the one attending his needs. This won’t be enough, not until it’s you. He’s insatiable.

Jeongguk needs to hear your voice.

It’s an instinct, and he bends to it. He’s careful, making sure not to tap on the FaceTime option, because if you were to see him right now it’d be glaringly obvious.

When he looks to the side, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the long mirror, and he visibly grimaces at the way his cheeks are flushed, the pearls of sweat coating his forehead causing his bangs to stick uncomfortably to the skin.

Guilty doesn’t even begin to cover it.

With the phone to his ear beeping to eternity, he hesitates, contemplates ending the call before you can answer. But just then, you do.

“Jeongguk! Is everything okay?”

Your voice is familiarly soft, but there’s a trace of concern. Blinking, he brings the device closer again and gulps thickly when he can make out your panting breaths. He clears his throat and puts on his best nonchalant act, “Huh— Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know… You just never call. Or text first. This is weird. You sure you’re okay?”

Oh. Is that really what it is like?

Jeongguk never realized this was how he came across—so detached that a simple phone call feels out of character. Your naive honesty hits him square in the chest. God, he needs to get better at this. The irony stings: he just fucking jerked off to your picture and the simple thought of you, while you’re on the other side thinking he’s just a careless piece of shit who doesn’t even know how to call.

The long stretch of silence registers in his brain, and he coughs to buy time, “Yes, I’m sure. I— huh,” he thinks of stuff you usually ask to keep the conversation flowing. Not out of courtesy, but out of genuine interest, the curiosity that makes people want to open up. He’s still not used to that. Still finds it weird.

“How… How was your day?”

It must be equally weird for you because it takes you a longer beat to reply. In that quiet moment, he clenches his eyes shut and feels his jaw tick with shame. And embarrassment. And this icky feeling that makes him feel too mushy for his liking. Hell, what is he doing? He’s never been like this, he’s not supposed to be like this.

But you recover quickly, as you always do, and you smooth over the moment. Fix it all for him like you were born to be just that. Make him feel like he fits in ways that have him exhaling shakily.

Jeongguk senses a foreign drumming in his stomach, and it’s warm but odd, and he loves it but he doesn’t want to.

On the twenty-fifth day of December, cheekily under a mistletoe, Jeongguk realizes he wants you. There’s parts of him that probably knew way sooner. But the parts of him that didn’t, fighting tooth and nail to suppress the mere thought, are just now finally surrendering.

Jeongguk has always found you admirable, back in high school. You had this determination to you. Not only when it came to him. It shone particularly when you catered to others, always finding ways to help, to mend, to offer yourself with nothing less than a fully toothed smile.

But he’s also always thought you two were—and still are—too different to work. He can’t be what you want, let alone what you deserve: someone who can match your enthusiasm and unwavering smiles, your frustrating positivity; someone who sees the world the way you do. No black, no grey, no shades in between. Just bright, hopeful white. Blinding white.

It’s the white making him dizzy, shifting his perspective, having him believing the opposite of what he’s always known. Pushing to be a little more egoistical, deceiving himself that he’s right for you. Because he wants to be. He oh, so selfishly wants people to know he’s the one who finally gets to have you, the one gifted with such a light, unfairly deserving of all the love you carry into every room you walk into.

Just a few days ago, during another one of your increasingly frequent phone calls, you asked him what he was doing for Christmas. He could have lied, come up with something on the spot.

But with how you so easily, and always coax the truth out of him, he let it slip. He told you he’d be alone, words subtly heavy. But they didn’t have the chance to even drop their weight before you were already inviting him to your friend’s party, insisting that he would be the most welcome.

And he’s here, and he sits beside you, and every time you laugh you lean your weight over him, and the room vibrates with the energy you fill it with, and each one of your friends is so enamoured with you, and for reasons he can’t fully understand it fills him with a sense of pride that shouldn’t belong to him. But it does, and it comes with so many other feelings.

You don’t push him to talk. You never force him into the spotlight when he takes a step back, quietly observing, choosing to stay in the background. Because you read him like it’s in your nature to do so, your soul seems to intuitively melt with his, and it intertwines in such a tight knot that he feels it constrict his throat. He knows he’s still alive because his heart is beating, just a little faster with each time you flash your dimples at him.

“Dimples. What are you doing, hm?”

Now, he’s in front of you, a small smile on his lips as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to dangle the mistletoe over both your heads. You’re struggling just a little, your hand unable to reach high enough, and the fake plant awkwardly brushes his hair, the tickling sensation causing his nose to scrunch. You laugh.

Looking up at your swinging movements, you lose your balance for the slightest second. Jeongguk’s hands move instinctively, catching you promptly by the waist to steady your body. But even after that, he doesn’t shift, his warm palms stilling. And when you face him, he’s closer and his chest brushes against yours. From this proximity, he witnesses the Christmas lights painting a galaxy of their own in your orbs.

You beam, “What does it look like? We have to kiss now.”

Jeongguk stares in your expectant eyes, brows wiggling and all. The more his mouth keeps in a straight line, the more the wiggling slows. You eventually come down from your tiptoes, letting the mistletoe fall to the side, tilting your head.

He snorts, looking away briefly to hide an embarrassingly wide grin behind his hand. When he turns back to you, your pout is enough to have him scrambling to meet your gaze.

“On one condition, though.”

You chirp, “Yeah?”

He licks his teeth, reserving you with a smug look, “Admit that you were scared to get your tattoo.”

Your smile vanishes in an instant, your expression falling into mock offense. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel, pretending to walk away from him. Pretending, only because you know he won’t let you. And you’re proven right when his fingers wrap around your arm, tugging you back with enough force to spin you into him. Suddenly, you’re pressed so close you can feel the heat radiating from him. Your chin nearly touches his chest as you glare up at him, narrowed eyes meeting the mischievous glint in his.

He bites a smile, lips twitching, “C’mon, princess. You wanted to act all tough and shit, but I could feel you shaking.”

Your scoff is loud and incredulous, “You’re such a bitch.”

He only shrugs, “You want my kiss, no?”

“Oh my god,” groaning, it’s your turn to face the side to hide a grin, “Are you always this cocky?”

His chin tilts upward slightly, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, “Say it.”

You whip back around to meet him with a seriousness he hardly ever sees on you, and you even clear your throat, channeling every ounce of the determination he knows you for, every drop of resolve that makes you you. “Yes. I was scared shitless, Jeongguk.”

Foreign excitement brims out of him, not before his eyes widen just a fraction, and his nose scrunches the more he leans closer to you, inches from you, swinging side to side with exaggerated mockery and a grin splitting his face, “See! I knew—hmph.”

There’s no other second to waste.

The condition has been met, and now all the requirements for you to claim what you were promised, your reward, are there. Even more when kissing him means catching him mid-taunt and silencing whatever teasing remark he had ready.

Your lips touch his in effortless ease, breaking the air as they press together. It’s tentative at first, almost uncertain as you feel Jeongguk remain still.

But it doesn’t take him longer to move, mouth molding against yours in a sickeningly sweet hug, tasting each other with quiet curiosity, taking your time to adjust and melt, instructing your bodies to imitate the dance.

Your arms lock around his neck, his stronger and tattooed ones circle your waist, and the way you click together feels so right, almost too perfect, so perfect it scares you. When you arch yourself further into him, even the non-existent space between you unbearable, he accompanies the motion with his wide palms gliding along your back, squeezing you into him, feeling the curve of your hips.

The soft whine that scratches your throat and vibrates against his lips betrays you, along with the useless effort to contain the intensity of what you’re feeling. The emotion disarms you, the sound gasping in your chest, but in Jeongguk’s arms it feels safe to let go.

On Christmas day, you crown a youthful fantasy, the kind you’ll look back to even when you’re older. Jeongguk feels like he’d be the right person to stand by you to do so.

When he reluctantly detaches from you, his face keeps at a safe distance that’d allow him to go back and taste you, not before resting his forehead on yours and whispering, “Merry Christmas.”

You giggle. “Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

1K notes · View notes

misaerabl · 13 days ago

Text

Uncharted Territory

Older Sevika (you meet her at a club)

SUMMARY: After a night out at a club, you find yourself alone, drinking, when a confident, older woman approaches. She’s intriguing, magnetic, and before you know it, you’re at her penthouse. What started as a simple encounter soon leaves you questioning how you ended up here—and why you’re not ready to leave. WARNINGS: older sevika (she's twice your age), you meet at a club, drinking/intoxicated (?), strap riding, degrading nicknames, one night stand (?), modern setting, smut with plot A/N: first sevika fic, lowkey nervous

MINORS AND MEN DNI / word count : 2k

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

The music thumps through the floor, bass vibrating up through your legs as you sit alone at the bar, a drink in hand. You’ve lost track of your friends—though, to be fair, it didn’t take long in a place this packed. A part of you thought about leaving, but the idea of going home to the same quiet routine felt unbearable. So here you are, sipping something bitter and fizzy, just trying to let go of the stress that's been clinging to you for weeks.

"Mind if I join you?"

The voice cuts through the haze of the music, low and smooth, laced with confidence. You glance over your shoulder and do a double take. She’s stunning—tall and broad-shouldered, with a sharp jawline that could probably cut glass. Her dark hair is cropped close, her suit tailored to perfection, and when she shifts, you catch a glimpse of a sleek prosthetic arm, gleaming under the club's neon lights.

You smirk despite yourself. “Depends. Are you buying?”

She lets out a soft laugh, the sound deep and warm. "Of course. What’s your poison?”

You glance at your nearly-empty glass, then shrug. “Surprise me.”

She signals the bartender, who nods like they know her, and you realize immediately that she’s a regular. Not just that, but someone important. It’s not just her appearance that screams money; it’s the way she carries herself, the ease with which she owns the space around her. The bartender sets down two crystal tumblers, something amber and expensive-looking swirling inside.

“Here,” she says, sliding one toward you. “Cheers to... being alone in a crowd.”

You clink glasses and take a sip. It’s smooth, smoky, and undeniably the best thing you’ve tasted all night. “Not bad,” you say, licking your lips. “I could get used to this.”

Her gaze lingers on you, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I like your style. You’ve got guts.”

“You don’t even know me,” you tease, leaning in slightly.

“Not yet.” Her eyes glint, and you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or her sheer presence that’s making your head spin. “How old are you, anyway?”

The question catches you off guard, but you answer honestly. Her eyebrows lift slightly, and she lets out a low chuckle. “Well, this just got interesting. I’m old enough to be your... well, let’s just say twice your age.”

You shrug, smirking. “So? I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Her laughter rumbles over the music, and she shakes her head. “You’re trouble, aren’t you?”

You lean closer, your confidence bolstered by the drink and her attention. “Maybe. You like trouble?”

She raises her glass, tilting her head to study you. “You have no idea.”

Her words hang in the air, a challenge you’re more than willing to meet. The drink is warming you from the inside, but it’s her gaze, steady and unflinching, that’s really setting you on fire. You swirl the amber liquid in your glass, leaning in closer so she can hear you over the music.

“Maybe I’d like to find out,” you say, letting the words linger, daring her to respond.

She arches an eyebrow, her lips curving into a slow, dangerous smile. “Careful,” she murmurs, her voice low and intimate. “You might bite off more than you can chew.”

You laugh softly, leaning your elbow on the bar, angling yourself toward her. “Maybe I’m hungry.”

Her gaze drops to your mouth for a split second, but you catch it, and the heat in your cheeks spreads through the rest of your body. She leans closer, the space between you shrinking, her scent—something smoky and clean—pulling you in.

“You don’t scare easily, do you?” she asks, her tone teasing but her eyes searching yours.

“Should I be scared?” you counter, matching her energy, holding her gaze like it’s a game you’re determined to win.

She chuckles, and it’s the kind of laugh that makes you shiver—deep, rich, and full of something dangerous. “Depends. I don’t exactly come with a warning label, but maybe I should.”

You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes at her playfully. “Sounds like you’ve got a story or two.”

“More than a few,” she admits, leaning back slightly, her prosthetic arm resting on the bar. The metal catches the light, sharp and sleek, like her. “But I’d rather hear yours.”

You take another sip of your drink, letting it bolster your courage. “You first. You look like someone who could write a novel just from the way you walked in here.”

She smirks, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. “Flattery won’t get you far,” she teases, but the sparkle in her eye tells you it already has. “But for you, I might make an exception.”

You grin, emboldened by her reaction. “Is that so? Guess I’d better make it worth your while, then.”

Her expression shifts slightly, her smile deepening, her eyes darker now. She leans in, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. “You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone so young. What makes you think you can keep up?”

Your breath catches, but you don’t falter. You meet her gaze head-on, the challenge sparking something reckless inside you. “Why don’t we find out?”

For a moment, she just watches you, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she sets her glass down, her hand brushing yours as she does. The touch is deliberate, lingering, and it sends a jolt through you.

“You’re bold,” she says softly, her voice a mix of amusement and something heavier, something that makes your pulse race. “I like that.”

“Good,” you reply, barely above a whisper, leaning closer still. “Because I’m not done yet.”

Her smile widens, and the look she gives you is nothing short of predatory. “Neither am I.”

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

The apartment is immaculate, all sleek lines and modern finishes, with a view that stretches for miles, the city glowing beneath you like a bed of stars. The air here is different—cool, but heavy with something you can’t quite place. You take a deep breath, feeling a bit out of place. This isn’t you. You don’t usually go to clubs, let alone lose your friends in the crowd. And you definitely don’t end up in some stranger’s penthouse, especially not someone who’s twice your age.

But here you are, sitting on a plush couch. She’s standing near the bar now, looking at you with that same confident, almost teasing smile, as if this is exactly how the night was supposed to go.

“Water,” she says casually, her voice smooth and almost too calm, like she’s read you perfectly. "You need it more than I do."

You chuckle, your fingers gripping the glass tighter than necessary as you take a sip, the cool liquid easing the dryness in your throat. You’re still processing—still trying to make sense of the fact that you’re here, with her. The older woman who seems to have effortlessly drawn you into her orbit. You’ve never been this spontaneous, never allowed yourself to follow a stranger back to their place.

"Not sure why I'm here, actually," you admit, meeting her gaze. "This isn't exactly my usual scene." The words come out sounding more uncertain than you intend, but the sharp, quiet energy she exudes makes it hard to feel anything other than... intrigued.

She steps closer, her eyes never leaving yours. “Then why’d you come?” Her voice drops just a fraction, like she’s trying to peel back whatever resistance you’re holding on to.

You hesitate, leaning back into the couch, your thoughts tangled. "I guess I just... wanted to see where this would go." You can’t exactly explain why you decided to leave your friends behind and come here with her, but there’s something magnetic about her, something that pulls you in even as you’re questioning your own decisions.

Her lips curl up into a knowing smile, the kind that suggests she already has all the answers. “Bold,” she murmurs, taking a seat beside you. Her proximity is warm, comfortable—too comfortable, and yet, you don’t move away. “I like that. You usually make decisions like this?”

You meet her gaze, the weight of her presence pressing down on you, and your chest tightens. “Not really. Guess I’m a little out of my element.”

She tilts her head, her eyes tracing over your face. “Maybe that’s a good thing.” There’s a hint of amusement in her voice, but it’s more than that—there’s something in the way she looks at you, like she’s waiting for you to make the next move.

And suddenly, you’re not sure what comes next, but you’re not backing down either. Something about this feels too... captivating.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

She gripped your hips firmly, guiding your movements as you rocked together. Your head tilted back, eyes closed in pleasure, letting out loud breathless moans.

"So fucking gorgeous" She whispered, her eyes drinking in the sight of you, savoring every inch of you in it's full glory.

The coldness of her metal arm pressing you down felt oddly intoxicating. You couldn’t explain why, but it was like the perfect balance — the chill against the heat, like liquor to the drug that was Sevika.

Her other hand reached up, cupping your face with a firm yet tender grip, guiding your gaze to meet hers as you moved. "That's it," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "Keep showing me that pretty face."

Her grip on your waist tightened, urging you to move faster. Your mind was a haze, emptied of everything except the overwhelming sensation and the way she consumed you entirely.

"You're my pretty whore aren't you, baby?" She purred, her voice dripping with dominance. The sound made a shiver run through you, all you could do was cry out a breathless, trembling "YES!"

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

You’d lost count of how many times you’d unraveled beneath her touch. Now, your face was buried in the pillow, breaths coming in shallow gasps as you surrendered completely.

She spread your folds with her fingers, licking them before they made contact on hour cunt. That shit sent waves through your body.

How could she make you feel this good? How could one night of indulgence shatter everything you thought you knew about yourself? You were supposed to be disciplined, grounded — yet here you were, in the bed of a woman whose age was closer to your mother’s than your own, surrendering to desires you didn’t even know you had.

She inserts two digits inside you, pumping her fingers fast inside your walls. As you gripped hard on the sheets, and screamed into the pillow, sevika took it as a chance to kiss your still dripping cunt.

The older woman pumped inside you as her tongue pampered your throbbing cunt. You were an absolute fucking mess for her — moaning, trembling, and falling apart completely. Whimpers spilled from your lips as your back arched, your ass higher on the air, every inch of you succumbing to her control.

If it were anyone else, the names she called you would’ve made your skin crawl. The degrading words—slut, whore, plaything—would have sent you running out the door without a second thought. But with Sevika? Somehow, they only made you melt further, igniting a fire within that left you craving more.

Everytime she spoke it's like your pussy got wetter, if that was even physically possible.

"God... harder, please." you pleaded, with desperation. The sound drew a low satisfied chuckle from her. You were so needy for her snd she absolutely loved every second of it.

Of course she obliged — how could she resist? She loved seeing you like this, completely undone beneath her touch, reveling in a way she made you feel so utterly and undeniably good.

A few more slow, deliberate thrusts and flicks of her tongue and fingers, you came again for what felt like the hundredth time that night, your body trembling with each wave of pleasure.

Safe to say, you had the best night of your life.

#sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika fanfic #sevika arcane #arcane #lesbian #fanfic #sevika smut #sevika x female reader #arcane smut #arcane fanfic #sevika arcane smut

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sunflowerwinds · 1 month ago

Text

hers | s.a

summary: your bright personality unexpectedly draws in sevika and she can’t help but fall for you. when finn makes a comment that he can’t take back, sevika reminds him and you how much you mean to her.

pairing: fem!reader x sevika arcane

contains: mature language and content (18+), set sometime between act 1 and act 2 of season 1, established relationship, sunshine!reader, sensitive!reader, reader is described to wear more feminine outfits and makeup, finn being a WEIRDO to reader like omg, minor violence to men who deserve it, smut including — no foreplay, strap-on (hex-strap <3) r!recieving, sevika calls reader pet names such as sunshine, pretty girl, baby, sweet girl, angel, rushed ending.

word count: 4.4K

a/n: i’m ready to bear her children. a little treat before what we might endure in act 2. muah muah i love you angels <333 i am so sorry for posting this so late within the day. i had a hectic day at work but i pushed through for yall!

Sevika would never be described as a bright person.

Her position as Silco’s right-hand woman made her eerily unapproachable. She wore a poker face, gambled with ease, and was expertly skilled in combat. Fear struck in those who dared to try her.

Except, well, you.

When you first took the position as a waitress at The Last Drop, you were immediately drawn to the so-called scary woman. You heard whispers amongst the customers of her actions but all you saw was a tall, gorgeous woman.

Chuck, at least you assumed that was his name as the little 12-year-old girl with bright blue hair repeatedly called him in when she was lingering around, noticed your longing gaze at the woman. He warned you that someone as preppy as you is not someone Sevika would enjoy in her presence.

You were aware of your bubbly personality that, to most, was a bit overwhelming to be around. Your outfits drew attention as you enjoyed more frilly and bright things, always wearing jewelry or makeup or both to color coordinate with your outfits. It brought you joy and you weren’t ashamed of it.

You ignored him as you thought he was being ridiculous. How could she judge you so quickly without even getting to know you?

“I’m going to say hi!” You state with a nod to Chuck. “Do you know her favorite drink?”

You lean against the counter, beaming charmingly at the man. He hesitates as he doesn't want you to get yelled at or scoffed at for even trying.

“I-I don’t know. Sevika’s not… fond of being interrupted during her poker games.”

You blink as you turn back around to watch her shuffle the cards with one clawed and flesh hand, a cigar hanging from her beautiful lips. As much as you wanted to go over there and admire her up close; Chuck was right.

You didn’t want to be rude.

“I’ll just wait until she’s done then,” you nod to confirm.

And that’s what you do. You watch as her opponents angrily toss their forfeit onto the table, muttering curses at the woman. The larger woman keeps her cool composure, a winning smirk on her face. You grin happily at her now empty table, grabbing the drink Chuck had reluctantly handed you to deliver to the woman.

You control the pep in your step as much as you can as you didn’t want to spill the drink. Sevika gathers the coins into her leather pouch when you first approach her table.

“Hi!” You smile warmly.

Sevika, much to your surprise, doesn’t ignore you as Chuck made you believe she would. In fact, she sits back in her seat, her gray eyes trailing up and down your figure as you set down the drink.

“I thought I’d bring you a celebratory drink and introduce myself,” you beam as you clasped your hands behind your back. “You’re Sevika, right?”

And she was even more devilishly charming up close. That was a given but you were able to admire her little marks much closer now. You even noticed blue scars running up the side of her face, trailing down the side of her mechanic arm.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” Sevika hummed as she moved her gaze to your awaiting eyes.

You nod, trying not to burst out with excitement so you wouldn’t scare her.

“I am! Just started a week ago, I think. I saw you when I first started and wanted to go say hi and Chuck told me not to,” you wave off like the man was ridiculous with a lovely chuckle. “Everyone says you’re scary but you don’t seem scary to me.”

Sevika’s eyes had flickered over to the bar where Chuck was avoiding her sharp gaze as you unknowingly ratted him out. She decides to let whatever he said slide and focus on the vision that is you right in front of her.

With one more once over your frame, Sevika actually grins at you.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to scare someone as pretty as you, angel.”

Sevika takes her cigar from her lips to blow out the smoke away from you and reaches across the table to grab the drink. You were obsessed with the way she called you ‘angel’, wanting to hear her voice on a loop forever.

“You think I’m pretty?” You swore your face was stretching due to how much you were smiling.

Sevika hums as she takes a slow sip from the slightly rusted glass.

“The prettiest,” she affirmed your question before leaning in close so she could look you in the eyes, admiring the shimmer over your eyelids. “I hope to see you around.”

You nod with an overwhelming flushed face, practically bouncing on the soles of your shoes. You left the table with an overwhelming amount of confidence. Sevika watched you walk back to the bar counter to gush to Chuck about how nice she was.

That was only the beginning of Sevika’s infatuation with you.

She tried to ignore the bubbling feeling of yearning for you but every time she came into the Last Drop, you were just the sweetest girl to her and never made her feel like just a crime lord. Every outfit you wore had her on the verge of begging on her knees for you to let her make you feel so good because that’s what you deserve.

You asked her random questions about her and her life when you would bring her drinks, slowly emerging into Sevika’s life. Sure, it was the bare minimum and you acted this way with most. But when you stared at her as she spoke, nodding to show you were listening and taking in every word with those lovely eyes, she knew she was fucked.

Within the first month of meeting, Sevika built up the courage to ask you out after your shift at the Last Drop. You, of course, were as sweet about it as ever. After that first date, everything shifted in the bond that you two had made over those weeks.

You quickly learned how obsessed and protective Sevika would be over you. Her arm — mechanic or not — would be draped over your soft hips, signaling to everyone that you were hers.

Word quickly spread about you and Sevika’s relationship.

It seemed like out of the blue the men and women would give you dirty looks and make passive-aggressive comments in the Last Drop became significantly nicer to you as well. When you would beam to Sevika how you all of a sudden started getting tipped more at work, she would congratulate you, showering you with kisses.

Little did you know it was because everyone was afraid to rub you the wrong way and that you would tell the intimidating woman. If you were upset, which was rare, you could guarantee Sevika would be just as upset if not more than you.

Just as she had treated you like the princess she saw you as you were just as loving to her. There was no shocker there as you didn’t seem to have one malicious bone in your body. When you weren’t at work, you were right next to Sevika. Whether it’d be at Silco’s office or helping her babysit Jinx, you’d happily be right by her side to help or just be there for support.

The little blue-haired girl would constantly tease Sevika about being a ‘big old softie’ when you came around. You thought she was the cutest thing and Sevika would simply tell her to shut it.

Like any other day, you were sitting on her lap during her poker games, leaning over her shoulder to stare at the hand she had. The opponents across the table were gawking and staring at you, clearly getting distracted by your beauty and outfits. Even after almost a year of being together, Sevika would get so flustered when you would place a kiss on her cheek or jaw when she won a match. She couldn’t — and would never even try — to hide her love and admiration for you.

She called you your good luck charm as if she hadn’t already become a pro at poker before you popped out of nowhere.

This particular match was different though. Her opponents were ones that you knew — Finn and Smeech. You had seen them a few times when you swung by Silco’s office to drop off some treats for your girlfriend and whoever wanted some as well.

You didn’t mean to but you made eye contact with Finn while you were simply gazing around the surrounding space. His bright luminescent green eyes catch yours and you immediately look away. Sevika notices the tension in your body and clears her throat, her strong arm settling around your waist to try and ease you.

“Your eyes are getting away from your cards, Finn,” Sevika quipped, eyes narrowing for a moment before focusing on your breathing that was picking up.

Her thumb rubbed at the revealed skin. You place a gentle hand on her larger one, trying to distract yourself. Most that were played against Sevika didn’t even dare to look you in the eyes; you were Sevika’s and they knew better.

Turns out, Finn was not aware of this.

“Well, something is distracting me, Sevika.” Finn’s off-putting comment made your stomach turn, looking at you with an almost predatory look.

Sevika’s nostrils flared for a moment, puffing out some of the smoke from the cigar dangling from her lips. Your hand tightened on hers, blinking and looking away from him.

“You sure picked a pretty one,” Finn continued and you looked up at him to see him wink at you. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

You are taken aback by the question, glancing at Sevika as you mutter out your name. Usually, you were able to converse with the opponents to distract them from Sevika with your effortless charm but you wanted to do anything but talk to Finn.

“Focus on the game or get up from the table,” Sevika warns the man.

You hated seeing Sevika get angry as you knew her as anything but. Sure, she was grumpy and had a stone-cold face but she was the most attentive and loyal girlfriend to you.

“Sev,” you whisper to try and ease her clear anger with the man.

Finn chuckles at her obvious irritation with him. Sevika’s lip twitches at the sound and she sucks in a deep breath, glancing down at the hand of cards.

“Are you done or can we get this going?”

You look back at Sevika with an awkward smile. You felt like you were on display at an exhibit with his eyes on you and not in the way that Sevika looked at you.

No, she was so tender and loving with you.

“You know what? I, um, I forgot the muffins I made in the office. I’ll be right back, baby,” you pat her hand that was gripping onto your torso.

Sevika’s gray eyes found your gaze, watching as they anxiously darted from eye to eye. You were uncomfortable. Finn made you feel uncomfortable. From the moment you weakly smiled at her, Sevika knew she had to deal with him the moment you were out of her eye-line.

“Okay, sweet girl. Be quick. Need my good luck charm,” Sevika curtly nodded, plastering on a grin for your sake.

“I’ll be quick. I love you,” you ignore the obvious stares from the two across the table as you lean down to place a lovely kiss on her lips.

The taste of your lips fogs Sevika’s brain for a moment, reluctantly releasing your waist so you can leave her presence. “And I love you.”

You send her one more darling smile before keeping your distance from the two opponents as you make your way to where the office is located. You wave to Chuck as you pass by him handing a drink to Jinx at the bar in her signature cup.

You pat her on the head and flick one of her collarbone-length braids, watching her whip her head to find your awaiting grin. She leans forward to capture the straw between her lips, waving to you. You chuckle at her mean face before she realized it was you.

Sevika watched you walk away until you were completely out of sight before she reached over the table to grab onto the hair on Finn’s head and slammed it down thrice onto the wooden table. Her large hand held him down, watching him struggle to let himself up after the impact it had on his head.

The thud mixed with his pained grunt echoed, the few people within the bar pausing their movements. Objects clattered and chairs scooted to see where the sound came from. She uses her mechanic hand to take the cigar out of her mouth to rest it on the little ashtray that you sculpted for her.

“You really just couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut,” Sevika snarled at the man who was getting small splinters embedded into his skin from the old wood.

“He didn’t mean it,” Smeech proposed after being silent throughout the entire match up until now. Fucking coward, Sevika thought to herself. “We could… work out a deal to make this go away.”

Sevika scoffed as she started up her mechanical arm, the blade within it revealing itself and extending to push against the small jaw of Smeech’s fury face.

“A misunderstanding is all,” Smeech sputtered out, glancing at Finn’s smashed-in face.

Sevika stood up from her seat to grab onto Finn’s hair and ram him up against the nearest wall, head pounding against the tough wood. The man had yet to say a word about his over-the-line actions. A bloody smile was all he wore. Her hand held him up against the wall, her chest heaving from anger and her hand tightening to watch him writhe under her touch.

“Complete forfeit and that’s it. We’re gone. We’ll never look at her again,” Smeech rushed out

“And what would Silco say to this reckless behavior? We’re partners, you know?” Finn coughed out, spitting some of his blood out onto the ground. “Would not be too keen on that now would he?”

Sevika glanced over at Smeech’s trembling figure, carefully lowering her blade. He was right. As much as she wished she could beat his face until it was black and blue, nearing death, Silco would have more than a few words for her. She retracts the blade back into the arm and releases Finn from his throat, watching him pant and rub at the sore area.

“Leave the money,” Sevika grabbed the still-lit cigar and pressed it onto Finn’s free hand when he wasn’t paying attention. He gasped at the burn seeping into his skin, unable to react as Sevika grabbed him by the collar to push him toward the exit. “And get the hell out here.”

Smeech kept his distance as he nodded in understanding of Sevika’s anger. He released a frantic chuckle as he, along with Finn, left the building without looking back. Sevika shook out her hand and stretched a bit. When she takes a look around, the paused customers instantly continue their previous actions.

“Sev?” She hears you call from behind her, your footsteps growing closer. “Wait, what happened?”

Sevika shook her head as she turned to face your confused expression at the now-empty table. She glanced down at the small tray of muffins that you and Jinx made.

“They had places to be.”

“Aww. I was going to give them a muffin to try before they left. They’re not like ones that’d be up in Piltover but I think we did a pretty good job.” You motion to the berry muffins. “Have you tried one yet? I can’t remember.”

Sevika hums with a shake of her head before grabbing one off of the tray.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” She insisted with a hand out for you to take.

You nod happily at her suggestion, intertwining your fingers with yours as you leave out the door of the Last Drop.

Entering Sevika’s apartment, you rambled about the muffins you made. You were yet to notice Sevika practically undressing you with her eyes.

“I just think if you know if I was able to get a different kind of fruit,” you examine one of them in your hand, letting Sevika lead you by your hip around to the kitchen so you could set your muffins down on the countertop. “You know? Next time you have a transportation, can you stop by a fruit vendor or something up there so that I could—”

“Baby,” Sevika chuckles at your rambling as she rests her hands on your waist, squeezing the plush skin to grab your attention.

“Oh, right. Tell me about the rest of the poker game,” you shook your head and patted her bicep, looking up at her with a sweet smile.

Sevika could take you right there and then. She presses a loving kiss onto your lips before using her non-mechanic hand to cup the side of your face, keeping her hunger for you at bay for now.

“Did I ruin it when I left? Is that why everyone was gone when I came back?” You question, your face wincing at the idea that you may have altered the game. “I-I know I was… being distracting to Finn and I didn’t mean to.”

Sevika shook her head at your words, shushing your insecure thoughts creeping into your head.

“No. No, you did nothing wrong. Finn was the one out of line,” Sevika sneered, rubbing her thumb along the apple of your cheek.

“Are you sure?” You checked in one more time.

“Yes, angel. I mean it,” her voice is assertive but reassuring.

You nod, sighing as you lean into the comforting feeling of her palm. The feeling of discomfort from half an hour ago still lingered in your mind. You release an awkward chuckle, staring up at Sevika’s comforting gray eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just never felt that weird before.”

Sevika’s brows furrowed at your confession. Once you realize how depressing you sound, you shake your head as you reach up to cup her stern face, running your thumb over her blue scars. She wished she would’ve just finished Finn off right there and then seeing you contemplate who you are because of him.

“You… are perfect. Everything about you,” Sevika breathed out, leaning in to place kisses on the under of your jaw.

You gasp softly at the feeling, running a hand over the length of her shoulder. Her hand cupped at your neck, her thumb pressing underneath your to get you to tilt your chin upwards. You pant as her lips trail down the length of your neck, barely ghosting her lips to draw the neediness out of you.

It didn’t take much for you to get riled up for Sevika. Because, well, it was Sevika. She learned every spot that drove you wild and made it her mission to take advantage of that.

“I-I’m really okay, Sev,” you assure her but your slack jaw gave away how much you wanted this.

“Do you want me to stop?” She questions, pausing her movements but still heavily panting against your neck.

You shake your head rapidly, hand cursing up the back of her head into her hair.

“No, no. Please don’t.”

And how could she not give you what you want? Especially when you’re so sweet.

“Such a sweet girl, baby,” she breathed out before backing out of the comforting crook of your neck.

You preen at the praise, looking up at her with dazed-out eyes. Your hands were clamped down on the counter behind you, the ledge digging into your back. She traced the wet mark on your skin before delving back into your lips.

You ‘hmph’ at the attack on you but recover quickly, falling into a rhythm against her. Her hands settle back on your waist, her real hand sneaking up your top to run her fingers over your ribcage. You shiver against her, the sound of your lips smacking and the feeling of her tongue grazing over your bottom lip increasing your arousal.

“Wanna get up on the corner for me?” Sevika hums between kisses, her hands gripping at the meat of your thighs.

You nod with a hum, releasing the counter. Sevika lifted you with ease, hoisting you up on the counter. You couldn’t but giggle at the motion, still not being used to the fact that she was that strong. Her muscles were a constant reminder but when she was able to effortlessly move you around, you swore you were on top of the world.

“Need you, Sev,” you whisper against her lips, a smile creeping onto your lips.

Sevika's eyes shut at the sound of you asking for, needing her.

“Say that again, pretty girl,” she mutters as her grip on you tightens.

You smile against her lips as you peck them a few times before tilting your head up at her.

“I need you, baby. Please.”

Sevika released a near growl at your begging for her. She nearly knocks you back onto the counter as her lips find yours once again. Your bodies press up against one another, grinding your crotches. Your eyebrows raise at the bulge in between her legs.

You were not expecting her to be wearing the strap-on around. A pleasant surprise, nonetheless.

Sevika must've noticed you slowing down, pulling away with a slight smirk.

“You want it?” Sevika hummed, slowly grinding the bulge against you once again.

You nod again with greed, clawing at her back. With quick and hurried movements, you helped her move your panties down from underneath your rather short skirt. Sevika runs her hands up the plush of your thighs as her lips kiss your collarbones.

Growing impatient, you take matters into your own hands and reach for the button of her pants. Sevika hummed at the feeling, in fact pushing your hips into your hands to encourage the neediness. You took the strap out of her briefs, not wanting to take the time for foreplay.

You were positive that you were wet enough for Sevika to just ease into you. She chuckles at you angling your hips so she could line herself up to your aching pussy.

“Needy girl,” she teases.

You flush at the mocking, loving any sort of attention she was giving you. Your mind had completely blanked on why you were feeling so weird in the first place. Sevika was all that was able to make its way through your thoughts.

Her rough yet tender hands, her addicting lips, her toned waist, her ever-so-loving voice.

Just Sevika.

“Should’ve killed him for staring at you,” Sevika mutters against your skin. “For talking to you like that, angel.”

You shake your head at her words. “Just want you, Sev.”

Sevika nodded, knowing how much you hated seeing the violence. You, of course, knew it was a part of her job but when you saw people physically get hurt, you could feel it too. You would hate to know someone got hurt on your account.

“I’ll take care of you,” Sevika says out loud as if she’s trying to get herself back on track.

You were a waiting mess for her and she was thinking about killing that fucker. She blinked and looked at you, really admiring every curve of your body. Your hands were running over her broad shoulder, glancing down at the dildo in between you two.

Her hands push your legs apart, a smile growing on her face. You pant as your patience is wearing thin, watching her grab the base end of the strap to glide the tip through your folds. She was still teasing you, an evil smirk on her lips.

“Baby, don’t be mean,” you whine, looking up at her with desperation written all over your face.

Sevika whispers an ‘I’m sorry’, placing a kiss and soft bite underneath your dropped jaw. She held your hips still in place as she carefully inched herself into you. You gasped and moaned at the stretch inside of you. Sevika’s head tilts back as she curses under her breath.

You swore at times she acted like she really could feel you through the strap.

“Fuck,” she groans, humming as she bottoms out inside of you.

Your nails were digging into the scarred skin of her neck, emitting another moan from the woman. Without wasting another second, Sevika, once she was sure you were okay, began thrusting inside of you.

Your tits bounced with every thrust, nearly popping out of your top from movements. Sevika shamelessly watched your face twist in pleasure, your beautiful skin glistening with her saliva from her wet kisses and your sweat.

“Baby,” you moan out, shivering when she thrusts hard up into you.

Sevika grabbed underneath your jaw with her real hand, making you make eye contact with her as she fucked into you.

“My perfect girl,” she praises as her thrusts continue, slapping against your inner thighs.

You preen at the praise, wanting to look away but Sevika wouldn’t let you. Your stomach tightens at your overwhelming fast orgasm approaching. It was creeping up your spine, burning in the best way possible.

“Just like that, baby,” Sevika nodded as she released your face to focus on your soft hips.

Your breathy and whiny moans drive Sevika to speed up her thrusts into you. Your legs were hiked up around her toned waist, brushing deliciously at her v-line.

“Sev, please,” you beg.

For what? You weren’t sure anymore.

“Say you’re perfect. Say it for me, angel,” Sevika groaned as she continued her thrusts inside of you, one of her hands cupping underneath your jaw.

Your mind was foggy, barely able to focus on what she was asking you what to do. Your hips stutter as you try to match the pace of her thrusts.

“I’m… p-perfect.” You sputter through your heavy breathing, reaching and holding onto her strong forearm.

The metal of her mechanic arm made your skin shiver as she shifted your legs to somehow reach deeper into you. Your painted nails dug into her skin as you tried to adjust to the angle change.

“You’re my perfect girl. My angel, my sunshine,” Sevika praises you as her thrusts become sloppier, a shiver running down her spine.

Nothing, not even Shimmer, could compare to the euphoric feeling of being with you like this. Nothing was as addicting as you.

“Yours,” was all you could whimper out.

You were sure your makeup was smudged, most of your eyeshadow faded from the heat exuding from your body. Sevika wouldn’t let you even try to think about anything else but feeling good.

“‘M yours too, angel. Don’t you forget it.”

TAGLIST: @eilishxo @prettydeeryess @hauntedclaudio @maaaaaaaaaaari @prettysuplicant @twlaei @soodle-noup @xayn-xd @fict1onallyobsessed @lamiadrowned @asmrgirll @lovinglynny @kylorey25 @kissyslut @archangeldyke-all

#wlw #sapphic #sevika fanfic #sevika x you #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #arcane league of lesbians #arcane sevika #arcane show #arcane #sevika

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eu-nicola · 1 month ago

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Morocco part 1

summary: Rafe says goodbye to Sofia and leaves her in outer banks while he goes to Morocco, where you are also and the danger that happens there rekindles the spark both of you thought had lost

warnings: mention of death, weapons, cheating, pregnancy, etc. only things of s4

word counter: 9000

author's note: spoilers of s4, many things have been changed but there are still spoilers, english is not my first language, this is long so get ready to read

There was a warm breeze blowing in from the ocean, bringing with it the smell of salt and adventure. You stood on the shore, watching the waves crash against the sharp, black rocks of the Outer Banks coastline. The sunset dyed the sky deep oranges and reds, painting long, brooding shadows across the sand. In the distance, the lighthouse flickered with its intermittent light, marking time. Your thoughts were filled with questions now that you were going to Morocco, and Rafe’s silhouette approaching along the wooden walkway only intensified that unease.

Rafe had that look in his eyes that you had always found difficult to read, a mix of defiance and nonchalance that gave him an almost untouchable air. He walked with a confident gait, hands in his pockets, white shirt fluttering lightly in the wind. When he was close enough, you stopped, feeling tension take hold of your muscles. He noticed your expression and, without a word, stood beside you, staring out at the ocean as if you shared a secret that only he understood.

“How are you?” you asked, breaking the silence with a voice that sounded shakier than you had planned. It wasn’t a casual question; you both knew he was carrying a heavier weight. His eyes narrowed just a little, and after a moment that seemed like an eternity, he let out a sigh.

“Sofia is going to stay here,” he said suddenly, as if he had been waiting for you to ask. His words fell like stones to the bottom of your stomach, sinking you into a feeling of emptiness. “I didn’t want to risk taking my future wife to Morocco.”

It took your mind a while to process what he had just said, as if your brain had hit an unexpected wall. Future wife? The icy surprise ran across your skin, leaving you feeling cold in the stifling summer heat. You forced yourself to keep your composure, to not let the confusion become visible, but it was too late: Rafe was already watching you with that look that knew too much.

“Are you engaged?” you finally asked, trying to make your voice sound natural, but feeling the lump in your throat tighten a little more with each word. He gave you a slight smile, which barely curved his lips, but was reflected more intensely in his eyes.

“Yes,” he answered, and the weight of that simple statement crushed your chest. You looked back at the horizon, looking for a respite in the immensity of the sea. The waves continued to break, indifferent to human emotions, while you struggled to maintain the balance between surprise and the pain that you did not dare to let out.

Rafe nodded, his smile wider and more sincere than yours. “Thank you,” he said in a tone that revealed a kind of relief, as if he had been waiting for your reaction with hidden caution. There was a moment of silence, awkward and dense, in which neither of you moved or looked away from the ocean. The waves continued their eternal back and forth, and for a moment you wondered what it would be like to be anywhere else in the world, a place where Rafe’s words couldn’t reach you and where the echo of “future wife” didn’t resonate in your mind like a persistent hammering.

The breeze blew harder, carrying with it the echo of distant laughter and the voices of seagulls, and as Rafe looked back out to sea, you felt everything moving around you, except you.

You fell silent, allowing the sound of the sea and the wind to carry away the unspoken words. You didn't want to talk about Rafe's engagement anymore, or about Sofia, or what it meant to you. You had learned to swallow your emotions, to let them burn inside you until they became something more bearable, like ashes after a fire. So you didn't say anything. You just nodded almost imperceptibly and took a step back, as if you were walking away from a conversation that had already ended.

Rafe watched you with fleeting curiosity, but he didn't insist. He, too, knew when it was best to leave things as they were. Without another word, he turned around and walked back along the same wooden path he had come by, his footsteps echoing in the increasingly dark afternoon. You stayed a few seconds longer, trying to let the cold in your chest dissipate and your breathing return to a normal rhythm.

When you finally turned around, your thoughts were already far away from there, beyond the ocean, in the dunes of Morocco, in the legends surrounding the Blue Crown. That relic had been the center of stories and rumors among treasure-hunting circles, a lost jewel whose importance went beyond wealth: it was said to have the power to change the fate of whoever possessed it. And now, it was sought not only by you and Rafe, but also by the Pogues, and others.

You had no time to be distracted, and you couldn't let your emotions prevent you from acting with the coolness that the situation required. You returned to your home where on the worn wooden table, the map of Morocco was spread out, with handwritten notes and markings indicating the places you had investigated before. You sat down, letting the weight of determination replace the pang of jealousy and disappointment you still felt.

You looked through your things: an old compass that had belonged to your grandfather, oil lanterns, a sharp knife, and a copy of a manuscript with cryptic clues about the location of the Blue Crown, clothes, and a lot of money.

As night fell over the Outer Banks and the stars began to twinkle in the sky, you promised yourself that you would find the Crown, no matter how many obstacles stood in your way. You weren’t interested in having it, but in what it took to have it, the deals you could make, and how proud your father would be if you did. It would be your victory, your vindication with your father after he nearly “killed” you when he found out you weren’t with Rafe anymore and you ruined his perfect life by not marrying a Cameron. You pushed those memories from your mind, focusing your eyes on the map and letting the adrenaline and obsession with the search take over.

Tomorrow, everything would change.

The Moroccan sun was merciless, a golden blaze that seemed hell-bent on burning your skin and sapping every ounce of energy you had. The air was dry, with a hint of sand that seeped into your mouth and stuck to your skin. You walked through a bustling market, where the aromas of spices, leather, and sweat mingled in a heady, chaotic mix. Vendors shouted in Arabic and French, selling everything from hand-woven rugs to intricately detailed gold jewelry. Despite the fascination you could feel for the place, the heat made every step a struggle.

“Damn heat,” you mutter as you wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. Your clothes, light but already soaked, clung to your skin uncomfortably. You were tired, overwhelmed, and everything seemed even more complicated in the middle of that maze of narrow streets.

Behind you, you hear a low, familiar laugh. “Are you really complaining about the heat?” Rafe’s voice comes with a hint of sarcasm you know well. He’d joined the expedition at the last minute. He wore dark sunglasses and a smile that made him seem completely unfazed, even under the relentless desert sun.

“It’s not that different from home,” he adds, raising an eyebrow and giving you a look that mixes defiance and complicity. His words hit you with an unexpected truth, and although you hate to admit it, you agree with a slight nod.

“You’re right,” you acknowledge, trying not to show the irritation you felt. Outer Banks might be stifling, humid, and wild, but this dry, scorching heat had its own way of imposing itself. Still, the comparison was still valid.

Rafe stops next to a stall where an old man sells copper and silver amulets. He takes one between his fingers, examining it with that calm attention he used to display before making a major move. His presence is as familiar as it is exasperating, a constant that forced you to stay alert.

“Don’t forget what we’re here for,” he murmurs without looking at you, as he returns the amulet to the old man with a polite smile. His words bring you back to the present, to the mission.

You take a deep breath, letting the warm air fill your lungs and force you to focus. “I never forget,” you reply, and although your words sound firm, you both knew that heat, distractions, and personal tensions were silent enemies.

Rafe smirks, a gesture that could be either respect or mockery. Then, without further ado, he walks into the crowd, motioning for you to follow him.

Hours later, night fell over Morocco with the speed of a closing curtain, leaving the air still warm and charged with the promise of new intrigue. The market streets, which during the day were a hive of life, were transformed into a labyrinth of shadows and flashing lights, where low-voiced conversations and distant laughter mingled with the hum of oil lamps. You found yourself in one of these streets, walking briskly alongside Rafe, whose eyes seemed to scan every corner, alert for any sign of movement.

You knew the Pogues were in town. They’d been following the treasure trail for almost as long as you had, and though your paths had crossed in the past, you’d never considered joining them. Until now.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked Rafe, feeling the weight of doubt like a stone in your stomach. It was an idea that had seemed absurd to you when it first came up, but the more you thought about it, the more logical it made. Two opposing forces joining forces for a common goal. But with Rafe, you could never be completely sure of anything.

Rafe cast a glance over his shoulder, his lips twisting into a smile that was more of a warning than a friendly gesture. “Relax. It suits them as much as it suits us.” You stopped at the edge of a crossroads, the yellowish light of a streetlamp illuminating half of his face and leaving the other half plunged into darkness. “Don’t worry so much, if there’s one thing I know about them it’s that they can’t resist an opportunity,” she added, lowering her voice and moving closer.

The meeting was scheduled in an old warehouse near the port, a place where stacked wooden boxes and hanging ropes created a scene that seemed straight out of a pirate tale. The place smelled of salt and damp wood, and the echoes of the waves crashing against the docks filled the space with a constant murmur. When you arrived, the Pogues were already there, standing in a tense semicircle, exchanging glances and whispers. John B, with his disheveled hair and alert expression, was the first to spot you. Beside him, Sarah tensed her jaw at the sight of Rafe, and you couldn’t blame her. The wounds between them ran deep, scars that would take a while to heal, if they ever did.

“What are you doing here?” JJ’s voice was the first to break the silence. His eyes, normally full of spark and humor, were now hard as steel. Kie stood beside him, arms crossed and an expression that clearly said he didn’t trust what was happening.

Rafe raised his hands, as if to show he had no ill intentions. “Relax. We’re not here to fight. We’re here to help.”

“Help?” John B repeated the word as if it were a joke, and a bitter laugh escaped his throat. “Why the hell should we trust you?”

“You shouldn’t,” you intervened, taking a step forward. All eyes fell on you, and you felt the weight of uncertainty in each gaze. “But if we want to find the Crown before others do, we have no choice. Rafe and I know things, we have clues that can lead us to it. And you also have information that we need.”

There was a moment of tense silence. Eyes met, searching for answers that neither was willing to give. Pope was the first to move, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes as if he were assessing the situation. “What kind of information?” he finally asked, his tone calculating and full of caution.

Rafe smiled, and you knew he’d been waiting for that question. “We know the last clue leads to a site in the Atlas Mountains. But it’s not a place you can get to with maps and courage alone. You need someone who knows the terrain, and we just happen to have people who do.”

Kie let out a sigh, lowering her arms and casting a quick glance at her friends. “It’s crazy,” she muttered, though there was a glint in her eyes that suggested the idea, as dangerous as it was, intrigued her.

John B gritted his teeth, his gaze shifting from you to Rafe, then to his friends. There was a decision to be made, and you both knew it. Finally, he nodded, though not willingly. “Okay, but if this is a trap…”

“It’s not,” you interrupted. And though your words were firm, you knew that everyone there had reasons to doubt. The alliance was not perfect, and past scars still hurt. But in the search, distrust would be a luxury they could not afford.

Rafe crossed his arms, pleased, and looked at John B with a flash of defiance. “Then we better get started. The mountains aren’t going to wait for us.”

The group exchanged glances, a tacit agreement that felt like a leap into the dark.

Dawn in Morocco came with unexpected warmth, as if the sun had risen early with the sole purpose of testing everyone’s patience. The souk, which had just awakened with the first light, was filled with life in a matter of minutes: merchants displayed their wares, children ran through the alleys, and the air was filled with the aroma of spices and freshly baked bread. The relative calm of the morning didn’t last long.

It had been barely two days since you formed that precarious alliance with the Pogues and, as you feared, things quickly went awry. You weren’t sure what exactly had caused the chaos – whether it was Rafe trying to “get information” the way he usually did, or whether it was an unfortunate run-in with another group of treasure hunters who had gotten wind of the treasure. The truth was that you now found yourself running at full speed between clay buildings and narrow alleys, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the walls as the screams and curses of your pursuers filled the air behind you.

“Rafe! This is madness!” you shouted as you dodged a fruit stand that you nearly knocked over in your wake. Oranges rolled across the ground, and the merchant let out an enraged scream that was lost in the melee. Rafe, running beside you with a grin that bordered on reckless, barely turned to look at you.

“Calm down, I’ve got it under control!” he replied in a tone that made you want to punch him in the midst of all the confusion. The shadow of a smile remained on his face, as if this was all just a game and not a race to keep his skin intact.

“You better fix it, Rafe!” you roared, feeling the burn in your legs and the metallic taste of effort in your mouth. “I wanted at least a couple of good days in Morocco!” You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a moment of true tranquility, and in that instant, the desire for everything to be different mixed with the adrenaline that drove you to keep running.

Rafe let out a laugh, one you didn’t know whether to admire or detest. “Good days? That’s not part of the deal, friend.” His words seemed laden with irony, but also with a truth that stuck in you like a thorn.

You turned a corner and felt the sunlight hit you directly in the face, blinding you for a crucial second. You staggered and almost fell when you tripped on a small step, but Rafe grabbed your arm and pushed you forward without stopping. The footsteps behind you were getting closer, and you could hear shouts in Arabic that, although you didn’t fully understand, made it clear that the intentions were anything but friendly.

“To the right!” Rafe shouted, letting go of you and pointing down a side street that seemed narrower than the one before. Without thinking, you turned, your heart pounding in your chest like a crazed drum. The alley narrowed even further, and the terracotta-colored walls seemed to close in around you. You could feel the adrenaline bubbling through your veins, sweat soaking through your shirt, and the sound of the chase ringing in your ears as a constant reminder of how close they were.

Suddenly, a thud to your left caught your attention: John B and JJ had emerged from a hidden passage, expressions mixing surprise and relief at seeing you. “What the hell did they do now?!” JJ shouted, a spark of reproach in his eyes.

“This isn’t the time for details,” you replied between gasps, and without stopping, you walked past them, followed by Rafe, who still had that impassive smile.

“We have to split up,” John B said, taking the lead and pointing with a sharp gesture. “We’ll meet at the meeting point! Go that way!” And before you could answer, he and JJ disappeared into another narrow passage, like moving shadows.

You and Rafe kept running, the chase now divided and the sound of footsteps diminishing. The alley opened up into a small square, where the midday shadows were deeper. There, you leaned against a wall, trying to catch your breath and process what had just happened.

Rafe glanced at you, his breathing ragged but a spark of excitement in his eyes. “You see,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow with a quick gesture, “this is what makes everything more interesting.”

You looked at him, feeling a mixture of exasperation and a strange camaraderie wash over you. Maybe he was crazy, or maybe you were crazy for keeping up with him.

After the chase, everything had calmed down, they continued doing their thing during the day and at night when they went to rest at a place where they were staying while you slept you were startled by a thud in the next room. You barely had time to stand up when the door was flung open and a tall man, with scars on his face and eyes as dark as night, pointed a gun at you. “Not a single move, girl,” he hissed in broken English, the threat in his voice as clear as the gun in his hand.

Rafe, who was in the other room, burst in without a second thought. The fight was quick, a clash of bodies and blows that echoed in the small room like war drums. With your heart racing, you searched for something, anything to defend yourself, and your fingers found an old metal lamp. You didn’t think about it. With all the strength you could muster, you threw it at the intruder’s head, the metallic sound echoing as it hit him and sent him reeling.

“Get out!” Rafe shouted, his voice a roar that snapped you out of your trance. You moved toward the door as he finished subduing the intruder. Outside, the streets were deserted, a blanket of silence that was almost as dangerous as the bustle of the crowd. You knew they couldn’t stay there. They had to move.

The next day, things only got worse. Despite having agreed on a meeting point with the Pogues, the pressure of being under constant surveillance and dodging suspicious glances became unbearable. Pope had managed to decipher an ancient map that seemed to lead to a cave in the Atlas Mountains, but they hadn’t counted on the other hunters who caught wind of the advance.

The chase began in the market, with the clatter of falling pots and screams from confused vendors who barely understood what was happening. You leapt up a stone staircase that led up to the rooftops, Rafe hot on your heels and JJ and Kie a few feet behind, bringing up the rear. From above, the flat roofs of the souk stretched out like a makeshift battlefield, dotted with hanging clothes and rusty antennas. The air was thick with heat and dust, making every breath a challenge.

Gunshots rang out in the distance, the echo spreading through the streets like a wave. You threw yourself to the ground just in time to avoid a second shot, feeling adrenaline turn your fear into a searing drive. Rafe held out a hand and helped you up, the urgency in his eyes clearer than ever. “We have to get down from here now!” he shouted over the din, pointing to an old staircase that led to a narrow alley.

They managed to climb down and into the tangle of streets, but the sense of impending danger never left. The group briefly took refuge in a cellar, where John B pulled out the map and spread it out on a splintered wooden table. “The cave is close, but we need to make a detour. We’re being followed closely,” he said, his gaze fixed on the markings that indicated a winding path into the mountains.

The tension in the air was palpable. No one fully trusted Rafe, and Kie kept giving you worried glances, as if trying to gauge how much more you could take. You were tired, exhausted, but at the moment the idea of stopping seemed as far away as peace itself.

That night, when the group decided to split up, you found yourself alone with Rafe in a dark passage, the echo of screams and gunshots still haunting you. The shadows on the stone walls seemed to lengthen and twist as if they were alive, too, watching you. You walked in silence, your breathing still ragged and your body on high alert. Rafe, ever alert, stopped suddenly and put a hand on your arm. The touch was cold, but it also had a hint of urgency that made you still.

“Listen,” he whispered. You barely noticed the sound of footsteps coming toward you, slow and calculated. Before you could process it, someone grabbed you from behind and dragged you into the darkness of an alley. You kicked and punched, fighting with all your might as Rafe tried to reach you.

You knew you had been missing for no more than a couple of hours, you had learned to count time without a watch and without getting lost and you knew that you had been exactly two hours with your head covered, except for your mouth.

In an unexpected twist, it was John B who appeared out of nowhere, pulling your captor and slamming him against the wall with a force that seemed impossible for his build. Once free, you breathed heavily, feeling the world around you blur. You were tired, but John B’s gaze, full of concern and determination, reminded you that you were not alone.

“We have to move. Now,” he said and you quickly followed.

The streets began to calm down as John B led you through a maze of passages further and further away from the bustle of the souk.

Finally, John B stopped in front of an old wooden door, dark with age and dust. He knocked three times in a rhythmic manner, and the door creaked open. You entered behind him, feeling tiredness creeping through your body like an unbearable weight. The small room you entered was lit by an oil lamp in one corner, casting a dim light that made the shadows lengthen and distort.

There, sitting in a chair with an expression somewhere between worry and relief, was Rafe. When he saw you, his eyes lit up with a flash of excitement that he quickly tried to hide under a facade of serenity. You had no time for words; you threw yourself at him, hugging him tightly, feeling the warmth of his body and the accelerated beat of his heart under your arms. For a moment, nothing else mattered.

Rafe hugged you back, his grip firm, almost desperate. For an instant, he wasn’t the troubled, arrogant man you’d shared so many moments of uncertainty with, but someone who shared the weight of the same struggle, the same fear, and the same need to find respite amidst the chaos.

“I thought I’d have to kill someone to find you,” he murmured, his voice husky near your ear, heavy with a feeling he couldn’t or wouldn’t admit. You felt his hands tighten around you, as if he feared that if he loosened his grip, you might disappear into the dimness of the room.

“I almost did,” you admitted, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes.

John B coughed softly, breaking the tension in the air and reminding you that you weren’t alone. You looked over at him, and behind him, JJ and Kie had gathered, each with expressions ranging from relief to distrust. Kie smiled briefly, but JJ kept his stance alert, always the first to suspect Rafe.

“We need to decide our next move,” John B said, crossing his arms and glancing around at everyone in the room. “Those following us aren’t going to stop, and the cave in the mountains isn’t going to sit around waiting for us.”

Rafe let out a low, almost inaudible laugh and looked away, as if he was considering John B’s words. You felt the knot in your chest slowly unravel, replaced by the determination they all shared: to find what they were looking for.

After the conversation, the small room fell into a heavy silence, interrupted only by tired sighs and the occasional creaking of chairs. The tired looks, the few words. The adrenaline of the day was finally beginning to fade, and exhaustion took its place with relentless force. John B and the others found corners in the room to rest, spreading threadbare blankets on the floor and chairs.

Rafe looked at you and nodded silently, both of you knowing you wouldn't stay there. Without exchanging another word, you walked out the back door, into the shadows of the streets of Marrakech. You walked in silence, unhurried but not stopping, following the paths you already knew by heart. The house you shared was a few streets away, a replica of the many modest buildings in the neighborhood, but set back enough to offer you a semblance of privacy and safety.

Upon arriving, Rafe opened the door and let you in first. The interior was dark and cool, a welcome welcome after the scorching heat of the day and the tension that seemed to have been tied to your back like a weight. You closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to feel the ephemeral peace of the place, before letting out a deep sigh and moving towards the small room in the back, where a low, simple bed awaited you.

Rafe stood in the doorway, watching you with a mix of tiredness and something else you couldn’t quite make out. “Do you want me to make you something to drink?” he asked, his voice soft and husky.

You shook your head as you kicked off your shoes and dropped onto the bed. “No, I just… need to sleep. It’s been too much for today.” You laid down on your side, hugging one of the pillows and feeling your eyelids begin to droop. You didn’t expect Rafe to do the same, but suddenly you heard him move. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet, and the lamplight flickered for a moment before he blew out the last spark and everything went dark.

You flinched slightly as you felt the weight of the bed dip beside you. You turned your head, and though you could barely see his features in the darkness, you could feel his proximity, the heat radiating from his body. “I’m not staying in that house with them,” he murmured, like an explanation, though you didn’t need one. You didn’t respond, just closed your eyes, too exhausted to think about what it meant.

The silence stretched between you, only broken by the slow, deep breaths that began to come together. Without realizing it, as tiredness dragged you to sleep, you turned a little, looking for a more comfortable position. Your hands brushed Rafe's arm, and he moved barely, as if responding to your touch was a reflex. Before you could think about what was happening, you felt his arm slide around your waist, pulling you towards him. It was a protective, warm gesture, and although at another time you would have said something, in that instant you only sighed, feeling your body relax completely.

With his breath close to your ear and the safety of his arms around you, the tension that had accompanied you for days finally dissolved.

The next morning the sun began to filter through the cracks in the window, filling the room with a soft light that contrasted with the darkness you had fallen into the night before. You woke up slowly, eyelids heavy, body still marked by the tiredness of the day before. Without moving, you felt the warmth of Rafe’s body beside you, his arm still around your waist, and for a moment you couldn’t help but smile quietly.

You tried to turn around to get out of his embrace without making a sound, hoping you wouldn’t wake him, but when you tried to move, something pulled at you. Rafe, still asleep, pulled you closer to him, a gesture so automatic that it made you sigh silently. Your body tensed at first, but then you realized it couldn’t be that bad, at least for a moment longer.

“Don’t go,” he murmured quietly, his tone rough with sleep. The softness of his words made your chest tighten unintentionally.

You stayed still for a second, staring at the ceiling, feeling the warmth of his embrace envelop you, as if the entire world had disappeared, leaving only that small corner of peace between the two of you. But reality, as always, quickly took over. You didn’t want to be that person, you didn’t want to confuse yourself or complicate things further. It was a hug, nothing more.

“Rafe...” you began quietly, almost afraid to interrupt the peace that had formed between you. “I’m not Sofia.”

The sound of his breathing changed, and then, with a calmness that surprised you, he replied, “I know,” as he held you even tighter against his chest. His words were soft, as if there was nothing to clarify, nothing to change. “I just… want to keep sleeping.”

Despite his relaxed tone, you couldn’t stay there all day. You already knew that time was pressing, and things were still moving outside of that little bubble of calm you’d shared with him. “There are things to do, Rafe,” you said, your tone firmer this time. “And we need to eat.”

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips at that moment, but eventually he relented. His body tensed a little as, with a grimace, he began to pull away from you, his arm finally releasing you, though his gaze was still a little clouded by sleep.

“It’s okay,” he said, sitting up with a hand on his head, as if trying to clear his head a little before getting up. “But only because you have to eat.”

The smile that escaped you upon hearing his tired, yet resigned tone was almost inevitable. You got up first, stretching and looking for clean clothes. As you watched him prepare his way to get up.

After a simple but necessary breakfast, with the morning warmth streaming in through the windows, the pace of the day continued. The conversations about the map and the cave in the mountains were quickly forgotten as each of you went about your own business. The chaos and paranoia of the day before had subsided, but danger was still present in every corner of Morocco, lurking in the darkness, waiting for the right moment to emerge.

Rafe, as always lately, had decided to act without thinking too much about it. There was something in his nature that pushed him to throw himself into risky situations without measuring the consequences. And, as always, it ended in trouble.

That trouble came in the form of an old acquaintance who appeared in the square, with clear intentions of collecting old debts. Rafe tried to negotiate, to talk to him in terms he clearly didn’t understand, while you watched from afar, feeling a growing unease in your stomach. There was something about the man’s posture, his cold gaze, that told you that they weren’t going to get out of this well.

The exchange of words escalated quickly, the tone of the conversation going from tense to aggressive in seconds. You knew it wasn’t going to end well, but what you didn’t expect was what happened next.

The man moved quickly, his hand searching for something in his jacket. You didn’t need to be told, it all happened in the blink of an eye. Rafe had backed away, but the man already had a gun in his hands, and his intention was clear. Rafe’s gaze hardened, and in that moment you understood that he couldn’t escape.

The man raised the gun towards him, and the world seemed to slow down for an instant. You knew there was no time to think about it. Fear transformed into action without your brain being able to fully process it. Without thinking, you pulled out the gun you had taken from the cellar the night before. In one swift movement, you aimed and fired.

The sound of the gunshot rang through the air, the echo repeating in your ears as the man fell to the ground, with a grunt of pain, the gun slipping from his hand. Quickly, you turned to Rafe, who was only a few feet away from you, watching what had happened with a mix of surprise and gratitude, but also with the awareness of what had just happened.

“Are you...?” you began, but the words got caught in your throat. Adrenaline was still flowing through your veins, making your hands shake slightly, but there was no time to reflect.

Rafe, after a moment of silence, finally spoke. “Well done,” he said in a tone you couldn’t quite read. But there was something in his gaze, a deep gratitude, and also a concern that he didn’t want to admit.

“It’s nothing,” you lied, quickly putting the gun away, though your heart was still racing. “Be careful, I need you to be the Rafe who makes deals with the worst people possible and comes out on top.”

Rafe didn’t say anything. He looked at the fallen man, then turned to you, and without another word, he nodded. “Let’s move on.”

The two of you walked quickly, away from the scene, the shadows of the streets covering you. Rafe walked a few steps ahead of you.

Your breathing was still irregular, the adrenaline already starting to wear off. The question that had formed in your head escaped your mouth, more out of impulse than out of need to know the answer.

“Isn’t there a minute where we have peace? Where I don’t have to get your ass out of some trouble?” you blurted out, the irony in your voice evident. You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or scream, but something about the situation made you blurt out that question as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Rafe, without turning around, let out a dry laugh, the one you already knew was the only way he had to deal with the situation, a defense against the chaos that surrounded him. “Like with Sheriff Peterkin,” he said, and although his words seemed light, there was something in his tone that he couldn’t hide: the heaviness of that memory.

The mention of the policewoman made you pause for a second. You knew exactly what he meant. That time, long before they got to this point, you remembered the local police who had almost caught Rafe and his family, so he took it upon himself only for reasons that were never fully understood, your father intervened, paying whatever it took to cover it all up.

You knew that, in some way, your father’s hand was always present, ensuring that Rafe’s problems didn’t affect him, although it had left you with a bitter feeling in your stomach. Your father never talked about these situations, but it was clear that he had ways of cleaning up messes that others couldn’t. And in some way, he included you in his world, which you were used to and liked.

“I know,” you answered with a wry smile. You couldn’t help but think of everything you had done to protect Rafe, everything you had put aside for him, for his sake. And what did you get in return? More trouble, more chaos. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny that something about that connection dragged you down, something you couldn’t control.

Rafe glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and for a moment, his eyes softened, as if you were reading his thoughts. “Thank you,” he said quietly, though it wasn’t the kind of thanks that made you feel completely at ease.

“Don’t be,” you replied quickly, feeling the moment become more tense than it already was. “I don’t need you to thank me, Rafe. This is what always happens. But I don’t want to be your fixer all the time.”

Silence fell between you again as you walked through the streets, the sun already warming the air uncomfortably. Your dress, though light at first, now felt sticky and dirty. Sweat ran down your back and the line of your neck, and the dust of the streets stuck to your skin only made things worse. You rubbed your forehead, desperate, and muttered more to yourself than to Rafe.

“This is unbearable. I’m sweaty, dirty, and… I need a bath urgently. This is torture.”

Rafe walked a few steps ahead, but his eyes shifted to you for a moment, as if he was trying to process what you had just said. He didn’t seem worried, but he did seem a little amused to see you in this state.

“I know, but it’s not the most important thing right now,” he said, in his usual, somewhat carefree tone. “We have to stay focused.”

You frowned as you brushed off your dress. “Yeah, sure, very focused… but I could be a lot more productive if I wasn’t so uncomfortable.” You looked around, realizing how ridiculous it sounded: here you were, running away from one problem after another, and all you could think about was a bathroom.

Rafe, noticing your tone, let out a low, amused laugh, as if the idea of worrying about something so mundane in the midst of all the chaos was completely absurd. “It’s not my fault you’re not going to take a bath with me,” he said, as if to joke.

You turned to him, one eyebrow raised, and prepared to respond, but before you could say anything, he gave you a small tap on the arm, almost playfully, while smirking. The way he did it seemed so natural, as if everything else around them disappeared for a second.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he added between laughs. “You can wait a little longer before you get in the water.”

He looked at you with that lopsided smile that, despite everything, couldn’t take away the discomfort of being drenched in sweat and dirt. But you couldn’t help but laugh, despite how upset you were.

“Easy for you to say, right?” You said, trying to make a face, but you couldn’t help but crack a slight smile. “When you’re not the one stuck in a sticky dress with your hair stuck to your face.”

Rafe, hearing your tone, simply shrugged, still smiling. “I promise that once we get somewhere safe, you can shower all you want. In the meantime, just hold on a little longer. It’s not all that bad, right?”

You stayed silent for a moment, looking at his relaxed face as you walked. You knew he was partly right. In the end, the sweat and heat were nothing compared to what you had already faced. But, despite everything, you couldn’t help but think about how much good a nice bath would do you.

“Okay, but don’t make me wait too long,” you said in a more relaxed tone, feeling your body ease up a bit as the tension was released with those words. “Because really, Rafe, I need something more than water to cool off.”

Rafe, looking at you with that look of his, just nodded, and with a mischievous smile on his face, he replied, “I promise, just hold on a little longer.”

You pushed yourself gently against his arm, and laughed.

Although the hours had felt endless, they ended up being productive for you and Rafe. The search for clues had paid off, although not in the way you had expected. They had managed to find some things and talk to some people who would help them, and they had also made some important progress in getting an address that seemed more promising than the previous ones. Despite the discomfort of the heat, the chases they had barely dodged, and the tensions between them, you felt that the hours had been worth it.

The streets, which had previously seemed overwhelming and chaotic, now felt more familiar. They had managed to blend in a bit with the locals, and although curious eyes continued to follow them, they managed to move more confidently, at least until it got late. Finally, after a day of intense work and a couple of altercations, night fell over Morocco, and the cool breeze that was beginning to blow made you breathe a sigh of relief.

As the shadows lengthened, the city seemed to calm down a bit, the streets less hectic, the heat of the day slowly easing. You were tired, the sweat stuck to your skin was no longer just uncomfortable, but had left you feeling heavy. All you wanted at that moment was a bath, but you knew things couldn't be that simple.

Rafe had disappeared for a moment, perhaps to talk to someone or continue digging into some clue that had surfaced, but you couldn't wait any longer. You quickly walked to the house you had rented, the temporary shelter where you could only think about taking off everything you had endured that day.

Entering the small dwelling, you closed the door behind you with a sigh of relief. You no longer had to be on alert all the time. There was no immediate danger in sight, and at last, you had some time to yourself.

You quickly headed to the bathroom, where a large, old tub was waiting for you, filled with water that still felt somewhat warm, as if someone had prepared everything in advance. You didn't hesitate for a second and, without thinking twice, you began to undress, removing clothes soaked in sweat and dust from the day. Each piece of clothing you dropped on the floor seemed to take a little more of the weight off your shoulders.

You sank into the tub with a sigh of relief, letting the warm water envelop your tired body. You lay back with your arms outstretched on the edge, closing your eyes and letting the warmth surround you, covering you completely. Each bubble that formed on the surface seemed to soothe you more, as if you were letting go of all the stress and tension you had built up.

The sound of the water gently moving around you was the only thing you could hear, and for a moment, you felt like everything else was left behind. You only thought about yourself, and the movement of the water.

The warmth of the water was beginning to relax you completely, and every part of your body that had been tense during the day was slowly letting go. You had your eyes closed, enjoying the moment, when you finally managed to disconnect from everything else, even Rafe's presence. At last, you felt like the world could wait a little.

The soak in the tub was beyond relaxing. Without thinking, you began to completely relax, the hot, bubbling water enveloping your body as tiredness slipped away from you.

You allowed yourself to stay there for a few more minutes, enjoying the peace that so rarely came to you.

When you finally got out of the tub, you felt like new. The water had done wonders on your tired body.

You decided to replace the water in the tub before Rafe arrived. The water you had used was warm, but it wasn't as hot anymore, so you decided to fill it up again for him. You did this more out of instinct than anything else, you wanted to offer him some peace of mind after everything you had been through that day. The sound of the water flowing in the tub was the only thing you could hear as you prepared to go get some clean clothes.

You didn't notice it at first, but when you returned to the living room, you heard the door open. Rafe walked in with his tired, somewhat heavy gait, but it wasn’t until you turned to look at him again that you noticed something odd about his posture. Something about the way he walked, slightly hunched over, made you frown.

Rafe was hurt.

The sweat on his face and the blood stains on his clothes didn’t go unnoticed. There was some wound, perhaps superficial, but enough to make you worry. You hurried to approach him, but he raised his hand, stopping you before you could say anything.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice tense but firm, as if he didn’t want you to treat him like he was a child. “Just a couple of scratches. A bath will do me good, and that’s it.” His tone was so direct that it left no room for further discussion, as if the idea of being helped was something he preferred to avoid.

You stared at him for a moment, feeling a lump form in your throat. You wanted to help, to do something, but you knew Rafe wasn’t going to let you do it. You knew him too well to know that he wouldn’t accept help easily, especially when it came to something as “minor” as a wound.

“I’ve already filled the tub for you,” you finally said, trying to hide how much it worried you to see him in that state. Your voice sounded calmer than you felt, but there was still a note of concern that you couldn’t hide. “It’s ready. Just… be careful, okay?”

Rafe looked at you with a crooked smile, that smile of his that used to be so trusting, but now seemed somewhat forced. “Thank you,” he said quietly, giving you a slight nod in thanks.

You stood there for a few moments, watching him head towards the tub, where he paused for a moment before beginning to strip off his blood and dirt stained clothes.

The tension in the air between the two of you was palpable, but in the end, you knew you couldn’t just leave him like that. If he wasn’t going to accept it, you would take the lead. No matter what was between you, you couldn’t leave him hurt and alone.

You approached the tub with a clear decision in your mind. Without thinking too much, you grabbed a clean rag and dipped it into the hot water. The sound of the water sliding down his skin, the warmth emitted by the steam, turned it all into a kind of calm that at first seemed disconcerting. Rafe stayed silent, watching you as you moved the cloth gently across his torso, careful not to touch his wounds, cleaning away the dirt that had accumulated on his body.

You didn’t think about his nakedness. You knew that, at this point, it was just a practical matter.

Rafe, despite the awkwardness of the situation, kept looking at you, and with a crooked smile, decided to break the silence. “Are you really doing this?” he said in a sarcastic tone, raising an eyebrow, as if he were in the middle of an awkward joke. “Aren’t you afraid of getting wet?”

You laughed despite yourself, almost unable to help it. The laughter came out of you spontaneously, lightening the heavy atmosphere that had formed a little. “If I get wet, I get wet. It’s not like I haven’t gotten wet before.” You replied, cleaning the part of his shoulder more carefully, always aware of the wounds.

Rafe’s sarcastic tone never faded, though at the moment it seemed more like a way to cope than anything else. He stared at you, but this time, something in his gaze changed.

“You’re beautiful,” he said casually, as if it were just a comment. But there was something in his eyes that left you speechless.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you immediately felt uncomfortable. For a second, you froze. “Please don’t say that,” you murmured, trying to look away to avoid him seeing it in your eyes.

The atmosphere between the two of you grew tense, as if the words were floating in the air, weighing more than anything you could say. There were too many things left unsaid between you, too many intertwined feelings, and the complications of everything going on in your lives. But, in that instant, the comment seemed to change something.

Rafe didn't respond immediately. Instead, he gently took your hand, guiding it through the water as you ran it over his chest. The closeness of his body, the way he touched you, made your breathing quicken. Before you could react, he pulled you towards him, into the tub, unexpectedly. The warmth of the water surrounding both of you only intensified the feeling of closeness, of warmth.

You stood there, not knowing what to do. Your whole body was telling you to get away, that it wasn't the time, that this shouldn't happen. But something in his gaze, something in the way he held you, made your own thoughts fade away. The doubts and voices in your head seemed to fade away when his lips met yours, in an intense but silent way, as if there was no turning back.

Despite what your mind was telling you, what was warning you that this could be a mistake, you couldn't help it. The touch of his body, the unexpected connection, made you lose control for a moment. The pressure in your chest disappeared, and for an instant, there was only the sensation of his lips, of his closeness, of the passion you hadn't planned.

You knew that, after all this, nothing would ever be the same again. But in that moment, you surrendered to the sensation, to the connection you both shared, even though everything around you told you not to let yourself go.

You both stayed there for a long time, in silence, only the sound of the water and the ragged breaths filling the air around you. There was no rush, no urgency to move away. The warmth of the water and the closeness of your bodies enveloped you, and for a moment, you let yourself go, you let the chaos of the world be replaced by the calm that only he could offer you in that instant. The tension between you seemed to slowly fade away, as if time had stopped and everything else no longer mattered.

When you finally pulled away from him, a little dazed, it was Rafe who broke the silence with a soft, but determined voice. “Come on,” he said, taking your hand gently.

You didn’t have time to say anything else before he led you out of the tub and into the bedroom, but you didn’t care. There was something comforting about the idea of spending the night with him, of sharing a space, even if it was just for a few hours. You felt calmer than you had in days, something you didn’t even know you needed until that moment.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #obx x reader

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maxtermind · 6 months ago

Note

Can I request some more angst 🫠🫠 I’m a sucker for your sad fics

tell me, why'd you have to hit-and-run me?

★ : summary :: finding out your boyfriend was dared to date you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: ANGST; no hea ★ : word count :: 4k+ ★ : a/n :: how are we feeling with the daily posts ending tom and shifting to alternate day posting🤭 babe you asked for angst and i delivered, lmk how you like it <3 bet y'all thought you needed tissues for something else😏

Max Verstappen

“Mate, you still haven’t told her?” you heard Lando whisper, making your eyebrows shoot up. What were they talking about? As you finally decided to approach your boyfriend and his friend, you heard Max whisper.

It was low, so low that you almost didn’t catch it, but the way your hand froze on the knob and the utter stillness of your heartbeat indicated that you heard him loud and clear when he slowly said, “I don’t know how to.”

That. That was the reason you froze. You were processing what you heard. Your heart pulled from its rightful place—no, it was ripped out.

God, you thought, anything but that. Anything but cheating because how could you even confront him if he confessed to cheating on you right there on the spot in front of one of his friends?

“It has been going on for too long, Max.” Lando took a deep breath. “You should tell her you love her; she’ll understand.”

Ah. Okay, he loves you; this was okay. But then why was your heart still beating so loudly that you could hear it in your ears?

“How do you think I should go about it?” Max asked, and that was when you finally had enough. You turned the knob, but Lando was already speaking, and his words had you freeze again.

The boys' heads snapped up, eyes wide when they saw you walk in. You felt your eyes burn as Lando’s last words finally processed.

“You should’ve thought about it before you decided to make a stupid bet with those dumb men.”

“Bet?” you wondered aloud as you saw Max stumble over to you. What bet?

“No bet!” you heard your panicked boyfriend almost scream. You were so confused you didn’t even know what you were saying out loud.

“For fuck’s sake,” Lando said as he stood from the couch, glaring at Max. “Y/N deserves to know.” You kept your eyes on Max, trying to gauge an explanation from his clearly messed-up state.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” you finally looked at your boyfriend’s best friend. “I clearly shouldn’t have trusted Max to—”

“I think you should leave,” Max groaned out as if it pained him to hear Lando talk, almost hissing out the last word. They started bickering back and forth, and through your hazy mind, you could only make out a few words.

But they were enough. You took a deep breath as you stepped away from Max towards the door. He was too busy focusing on Lando anyway.

“Y.. you’re saying I was a bet?” Your voice cut through the chaos, and it was Max’s turn to go dead silent and freeze on the spot.

“You asked me ou—” Oh god, you didn’t want to cry, “—because of a dare?”

Max’s eyes were wide with horror, his face pale as he took a step toward you, his hands reaching out in desperation. “No, Y/N, it’s not like that, please, let me explain.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably. “Explain what, Max?” Your voice cracked on the last word, the pain too raw to hold back when you saw Max was also crying. “How a…all i have be— this relationship has been is a fucking lie?” The moment you said it out loud, you heard Lando take in a sharp breath. Max looked disheveled, he could just tell that this was the only time he could repair this. You looked a minute away from walking out and the thought of that had him talking even through his closed up throat.

His voice broke, choked with emotion. “No, Y/N, I swear, it wasn’t like that. It started as a stupid dare, yes, but then... then I fell in love with you. I fell so hard, it—” His words stumbled over each other, barely coherent through his tears. “I called the whole thing off.”

You cut him off, your voice trembling and thick with hurt. “You should have told me right then. As soon as you called it off, you sho—” Your body shook, barely able to stand under the weight of your heartbreak. “How could you do this to m.. me?”

Max rushed forward to hold your hands, breathing heavily to get himself under control so he could talk as he sobbed. “I was so fucking scared, Y/N. I didn’t want to lose you. You mean everything to me.”

You looked down at your joined hands, feeling your heart shatter all over again. It was one thing to know someone’s apology was sincere and another to know that they had faked being sincere from the very beginning. So how could you even tell the difference now? Your voice came out in a broken whisper. “How can I trust you now? How can I believe anything you say?” You were almost gasping for breath, each word an effort as you tried to hold back the sobs wracking your body.

Lando’s voice was soft but firm from behind you, though his own eyes were hard. “He’s telling the truth, Y/N. He was an idiot, but he’s been head over heels for you for a long time.”

Max’s tear-streaked face looked up at you, his eyes pleading. “Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Anything. Just... don’t leave me.” His voice broke, the last word coming out as a wail of despair.

You turned away, unable to bear the sight of him, your voice barely above a whisper but laced with raw agony. “I can’t be here.” You could barely see through your tears, your entire body trembling.

Max’s anguished sobs followed you as you walked away, your heart feeling like it was being torn from your chest with every step. The pain was unbearable, and you stumbled, nearly collapsing under the weight of your sorrow but Lando caught you as he held you by your shoulders.

You needed to be alone, to process everything, and to decide if love could truly overcome betrayal. But right now, it felt like your world was ending.

Lewis Hamilton

“Y/N, baby please—”

Lewis’s voice pleaded as you shut the door behind, your heart splintering into a thousand pieces. Tears blurred your vision as you staggered away from your apartment, the weight of betrayal crushing your chest.

To think that you used to gush about him, about this, the vague lie you had to others. Not even a few steps away from your apartment, you were bent over, retching into a nearby dustbin.

How could luck be so cruel? How could you have been so blind?

You wandered the streets, tears falling down your cheeks as your brain replayed the moments when Lewis first approached you at a random club party, despite your friends warning you that someone like him must have nefarious reasons. But you were smitten.

“I’m sorry, but I don't know what you’re doing here,” you had said to him, feeling your heart beat faster when a smirk adorned his face in return. He looked majestic under the club lights. “Where else would I be?” he muttered, mesmerized as he looked at you, “If not with the most beautiful girl in this club?”

He made you feel special, validated in a way you had never felt before. Now, the memory turned sour in your mind, leaving you feeling sick and disgusted. You dry heaved again.

At least he had the decency to confess. Standing here in the cold, his words from when he sat you down with him echoed in your ears— his pleading, his apologies, his desperate attempts to explain. But what did it matter now?

“How could you?” you whispered, thump! thump! thump! your heart pumped as you heard it in your ears, your voice barely audible through the tears streaming down your cheeks. “Was I just a game to you?” That was the first thing you said after his almost ten-minute rant.

You had stopped listening though, right when he had told you what exactly made him approach you. Your first meeting was so magical, so precious to you, but it was all ruined now.

His friend had dared him because Lewis’ morale was down. He was having the worst day of his life after losing an almost sure race win, and his friends knew the only way to cheer him up was through a challenge.

Lewis reached out when he saw that you were lost in your thoughts, his voice desperate and shaky. “No, Y/N, please listen to me—”

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Don’t. Just don’t…”

“Please,” he pleaded, looking nothing like the man you loved, his voice cracking with emotion. “I love you, Y/N. I messed up, but I love you more than anything.”

You felt your heart breaking all over again because you genuinely couldn’t recognize the man standing in front of you— the man who had played you, was probably still playing you. “You should have thought about that before…”

Unable to bear another moment, you left, leaving his words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. You were nothing more than a pawn in his game of masculine pride and insecurity. The realization hit you like a freight train, leaving you gasping for air as you collapsed against a nearby wall, sobs wracking your body.

How could someone who once made you feel so alive now leave you feeling so broken?

Carlos Sainz

The evening was warm, and the restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversation. You sat with your boyfriend, Carlos, his friends, and a few of your own. It was a casual dinner, the kind you rarely held since Carlos was so busy.

“I can't believe we wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t dared Carlos to ask you out,” Javier chuckled as he saw you lean forward to kiss your boyfriend.

Laughter erupted around the table but quickly died down when they realized the utter horror on your face. An uncomfortable silence settled in, and you noticed the tension.

Your wide eyes moved from one face to another, finally landing on Carlos, whose expression had turned serious. He glared at Javier, and you sensed something was wrong. You felt uncomfortable, and the need to flee clutched you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice small yet cutting through the awkwardness as you held Carlos’ hand under the table. He squeezed it in return.

“Uh, nothing,” Javier stammered, realizing his mistake. His discomfort was evident, triggering your fight-or-flight response.

You turned to Carlos. “What’s going on?” Your voice held a very tiny hope, hoping this was all a prank that would be over soon.

He sighed as he squeezed your hand again, his frustration evident. “We should talk about this at home.”

You pulled your hand away from his, your confusion and hurt growing. The others at the table exchanged looks of pity, further igniting your anger.

“No, we’re talking about it here. What’s going on?” you demanded as a shaky breath left your lips.

Carlos looked around nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.” He stopped himself again.

“Tell me what?” Your voice grew louder, drawing the attention of nearby diners.

Before he could respond, one of your friends, Beatrice, chimed in, “Just tell her, for God’s sake!” You looked at her in solitude, glad that you had some kind of support here.

“I dared Carlos to ask you out as a joke!” Javier blurted out just as you were managing to form a small smile to pass to your friend.

Your heart pounded in your chest. “What?” The chair creaked under you as you pushed it away from the table, and your boyfriend held your hand again.

“Please, it wasn’t like that,” Carlos tried to calm you down, but he was panicking himself. He was still whispering that you could not feel anything else in the world anymore. That was enough evidence.

You stood up, knocking your chair over as you once again snatched your hand away from his. “Wasn’t like what? You made me believe this was fucking real!”

Other diners began to whisper and pull out their phones, recording the scene as he stood up as well. With a desperate look, Carlos reached out to you, but you stepped back.

“This whole time, I was just a fucking… dare to you?” you shouted.

People around the restaurant started filming, their phones pointed at the escalating scene. Carlos's anger boiled over. He grabbed a nearby phone and smashed it against the table. The room fell silent, shocked gasps filling the air.

“Carlos, stop!” One of his friends tried to pull him back.

“You all think this is funny?” Carlos yelled at the onlookers, distracted now, and you knew what you were going to do as he turned around to yell again. “Get your own fucking life!”

You stood up, tears streaming down your face. “I’m done with this,” you said, your voice breaking. You were already walking away when you felt your friend follow you.

As you left the restaurant, you could hear the whispers and see the flashes of cameras. You knew this would go viral, but at that moment, you didn’t care. Your heart ached with betrayal and anger.

Carlos realized a bit too late that you were gone. Frustrated, he ran out to catch up with you and tried to call you again and again.He didn't know at the time that he would never catch a hold of you after this.

Charles Leclerc

You were scrolling through social media when a notification from an unknown sender caught your attention. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t, curiosity got the better of you, and you clicked on the thumbnail showing your boyfriend at a party.

The video started playing. It was from months ago, showing Charles in an outfit that you recognized but couldn’t remember from where. Ethan's voice could be heard clearly over the music. “I dare you to ask that girl out,” Ethan said, laughing, but you still couldn’t tell who he was pointing at. “Bet you can't do it.”

Charles grinned, looking a little tipsy. “You're on,” he replied, to the cheers and jeers of his friends. The grainy video ended with Charles approaching you. A deafening silence enveloped you when you realized this was from the day you first met him.

Charles had a determined look on his face, but the video faded into the background. Your thoughts echoed painfully in the emptiness, the truth of your lover's betrayal reverberating within you.

Your heart sank further as you sat in silence to process. You felt a rush of emotions— betrayal, hurt, and anger. Tears welled up in your eyes as you replayed the video, hoping it was some sort of sick joke. But the evidence was right there, undeniable.

At that moment, the door to the apartment opened, and Charles walked in, a smile on his face. “Hey, love. What are you up to?” he asked, not noticing your distress at first.

You turned to him, your eyes brimming with tears. “What is this?” you demanded, holding up your phone with the video paused at the damning moment.

Charles's smile faded instantly, replaced by a look of horror. “Baby, how did you—” he started, stepping towards you as he felt the room spin a bit, all the blood rushing to his head.

“Does it matter?” you snapped, your voice shaking with anger as tears gathered under your eyes. “When you only even looked at me because of a stupid bet?”

“It started as a bet, yes,” Charles admitted, his voice pained. “But it's not like that now. I fell in love with you, Y/N. Everything we've had since then has been real.” He was quickly getting closer to you, but you flinched away and that stopped him dead in his tracks.

You shook your head, unable to believe what you were hearing. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” You were so angry, your ears so warm that it wouldn’t be impossible if smoke started coming out of them.

Charles reached out, but you stepped back once again. “Please, Y/N. I was an idiot. I shouldn't have agreed to that dare, but I did. And yes, that's how it started. But the moment I got to know you, everything changed. I love you more than anything.”

“Do you have any idea just how humiliating this is?” you shouted, your voice breaking. “I thought what we had was special. I thought it was real. And now I find out it was all… a gamble to you.” You hated that you were showing him so many emotions but fuck, it hurt so much and you wish you could hurt him back.

“It is not a gamble,” Charles pleaded, tears forming in his eyes. “Not after I got to know you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Please, don't let this ruin us.” He could actually feel you slipping through his fingers.

“Fuck you, you’re the one who ruined this!” you said, turning away, trying to gather your thoughts, willing yourself to leave and hating yourself when you couldn’t. “Seriously,” you said quietly, not looking at him. “Fuck you.” You laid emphasis to show that you actually meant the words. “You’ve ruined me”

“Baby,” Charles's voice broke when he heard you say that he ruined you, but the way you glared at him because of the nickname had him backtracking. “Y/N, please just let me show you how that was all a lie. I love you. I can't fucking lose you over this.”

You walked to the door, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere. “It is still all a lie,” you declared in a voice that showed you were shutting down, barely above a whisper.

As you stepped out of the apartment, you heard Charles crying behind you, but you didn’t stop to mend his heart because you couldn't even feel yours in your chest.

Lando Norris

Lando’s phone buzzed with notifications as he stepped out of the room and you glanced at it absentmindedly, not intending to invade his privacy. But the screen lit up with messages from his friends’ group chat, and the first few lines caught your eye, seeing your name in them.

“Can’t believe Lando actually went through with it.” “I know, right? It’s hilarious that she still doesn’t know!”

Your heart sank as you read further, each message a dagger to your trust. They were discussing you— about Lando making a bet involving you. Your hands trembled, and you scrolled through the conversation, your worst fears unfolding before your eyes.

“Thought he’d be gloating but he hasn’t contacted at all.” “Shit, man, he’s been with her for a year. I'm not paying him that much!”

You felt sick to your stomach. The room spun around you as you struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the betrayal. All those times you believed in Lando, trusted him with your heart— were they all just part of a cruel scheme? A fucking game?

You heard Lando approaching, unaware that you had seen everything. His smile faded as he saw the look on your face, the phone still clutched tightly in your hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously, sensing the tension in the air as he approached you with wide eyes.

This has happened before. Lando was always scared of coming home and finding it empty because you had found out about something he was afraid to tell you but in the past he was always wrong. It was a show, a friend, a book making you cry but today was different.

You held up the phone, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Care to explain this?”

Lando’s expression shifted from confusion to dread as he realized what had just happened. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a bitter laugh.

“Fuck, you really had me convinced!” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “You made a bet? How much have you made so far, Mr. Norris?”

“Don't say that,” Lando looked like you had slapped him across his face. He reached out to you, his face pleading for forgiveness. “Y/N, I swear it wasn’t like that—”

“How much was it?” you demanded, the words laced with bitterness. “Bet you made a lot the day you finally got laid, huh?” “No!” Your boyfrie— ex-boyfriend screamed. His eyes were carrying moisture and you couldn’t help but scoff but he carried on. “I never took a single penny, Y/N. I.. I promise, I hadn’t even talked to them since the day i realized what assholes they were and—”

Lando’s face fell, his words faltering as he rushed forward to catch you in his arms, his tears finally falling once he saw your wet face. But the truth hung heavy in the silence between you, suffocating any hope of reconciliation.

Tears fell down your cheeks onto his arm as he kissed your head and whispered sweet nothings and sorry, I’m so sorry so so sorry sorry sorry, again and again against your head, blurring your vision. “I trusted you,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I loved you.”

The weight of it all settled on you, and you sank deeper into the couch, overwhelmed by the betrayal. The anger that fueled you moments ago now gave way to a deep, searing pain. How could he have done this to you?

Lando kneeled down before you, his own tears betraying the magnitude of his mistake. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, reaching for you. “I never meant for you to find out.”

He carried on but your ears started ringing when the words registered. Wouldn’t a person with nothing to be guilty about, accept the truth and make up? Why was he so hell bent on keeping it under a hush?

His words felt hollow, empty promises in the wake of his betrayal and you cut him off as you pushed him away from you . “Get out,” you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

Lando hesitated, torn between wanting to explain and knowing that no explanation would mend what was broken. “Please,” you whispered and it was so small, so scared that he got up immediately and nodded.

He kissed your head again and you let him linger as you closed your eyes,“I.. I’ll be back, baby.” With a final, agonized look at you, he turned and left, leaving you alone in the wreckage of your shattered trust.

The silence enveloped you, broken only by your ragged breaths and the echoes of his footsteps fading away. You hugged yourself tightly, trying to hold together the pieces of your heart that he had callously shattered.

As the tears continued to fall, you felt a different kind of ache—the ache of knowing that the love you had believed in was now a painful memory because yes, he was coming back but you wouldn’t be here.

Later, Lando would enter the house in hopes of finding you but just like his worst nightmare, you wouldn’t be there. You wouldn’t be there to hold him as he’ll slowly lose it running across the house while he’ll look for you. None of your things would be there.

Yes, he destroyed you but also himself.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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tender-rosiey · 3 months ago

Note

The sukuna with a shy daughter was sooo good. I loved it! Can we have more of them where its just sukuna and his baby girl in different situations and theres a lot of people and he has to deal with his brat?

peasant food — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: i am a big fan of sukuna with a shy daughter so i am super glad you like it too

right now, you’re standing beside your dear husband sukuna who stands with his arms crossed, watching with a frown as your daughter hands out food to the poor.

you almost let out a giggle, but then you feel his hand squeeze your hip in warning.

you huff in protest; however, he doesn’t let you dwell on it for long, as he hands you a necklace he just…acquired from somebody.

your little girl, on the other hand, with her wide eyes and gentle smile, kneels by a villager, offering him a bowl of rice.

“here you go,” she says sweetly, her tiny voice almost drowned out by the village noise. “you must be hungry.”

sukuna’s brow twitches as he clenches his jaw. “what in the hell are you doing?” his deep voice rumbles, earning a few fearful glances from nearby villagers. they recognize him, of course. the king of curses himself.

nobody dares to approach.

d/n looks up, flustered by her father’s glare. “I’m giving them food, papa. they’re hungry,” she answers, trying to keep eye contact, but she gives up half-way through and looks away.

sukuna’s eye twitches. “you’re supposed to cause pain,” he growls, leaning down with his arms crossed, looming over her tiny form. “not make people happy.”

you stifle a chuckle, placing a gentle hand on sukuna’s arm. “she’s just being kind,” you murmur, amused by his growing frustration.

sukuna throws you an incredulous look before turning back to his daughter. “kind? they don’t need kindness. they need fear, suffering. let them be hungry.”

“but… papa, that’s mean,” she protests, her little face scrunching up, and her lips wobble a bit. “they’re sad because they’re hungry. don’t you want them to be happy?”

sukuna steps back, his face twisting in disgust. “no. I don’t want them to be happy,” he replies right away. the coldness in his tone is enough for the nearby villagers to flinch.

you shake your head, eyes flitting and watching some of the villagers finally scramble away.

he looks at you with a small click of his tongue. your daughter, however, just looks up at him with innocent eyes, blinking slowly like she doesn’t understand why he’s so upset.

“b-but I like it when people smile,” she insists softly, handing another bowl of rice to a small child who hesitantly approaches. “it feels… nice.”

sukuna groans, running a hand down his face in sheer exasperation. “you’re supposed to be a curse, not some…do-gooder.”

he looks at you as with a quick side-eye.

“I think it’s sweet,” you say, shrugging lightly. “she’s got your stubbornness, you know.”

sukuna glares at you, then back at his daughter, who continues to hand out food, humming happily.

“I can’t believe this,” he mutters, watching her with narrowed eyes. “you’re lucky you’re my daughter,” he grumbles under his breath, crossing his arms again.

your daughter stands up after giving away the last of the food, her face glowing prideful but still timid, as she tries to convince her father with her point of view. “see, papa? they’re happy now.”

“you’re impossible,” he grunts, reaching down to ruffle her hair, though he tries to hide the fondness in his movements. the sharpness of his look returns a little as he says, “this doesn’t mean I approve.”

your daughter nods cautiously, before fidgeting with her fingers. ultimately, she decides on something. “do you want some rice, papa?” she asks softly, holding up an empty bowl.

sukuna scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I don’t eat peasant food.” he straightens up, glaring at the remaining villagers who are brave enough to linger nearby.

with just one look, they scatter, leaving the streets eerily quiet.

“but it’s nice!” your daughter insists, her voice earnest as she pouts slightly, her cheeks puffing out in frustration. “please, papa?”

you can’t help but chuckle at the sight of her trying to negotiate with him, and you lean in closer, nudging sukuna with your shoulder. “maybe just a taste? for her sake? please, honey.”

sukuna’s brows furrow in thought, and he glances between you and your daughter, who is practically bouncing on her toes with hope.

he crosses his arms again, acting indifferent. “fine. just a small bite. but I’m not doing this because I want to. understand?”

“okay!” your daughter replies, earnestly, her face lighting up as she dashes to a nearby vendor who is still watching with cautious interest.

sukuna watches her go, shaking his head. “unbelievable,” he mutters, but there’s no real anger in his voice now. it’s more of a begrudging acceptance.

“who would’ve thought you’d have such a kind-hearted little girl?” you tease, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“she’s a curse’s daughter, not a saint,” he replies, but there’s a softness in his tone that you recognize.

his gaze follows your daughter, who is now engaged in a small conversation with the vendor about the best rice. “she should be causing chaos, not handing out food like some charity.”

you laugh lightly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “maybe this is her form of chaos. besides, look how happy she is.”

sukuna’s expression shifts, and you can see the conflicting emotions playing out on his face. he wants to be frustrated, to be the fearsome king of curses that everyone knows him as, yet here he is, watching his daughter bring joy to others.

your daughter returns, bowl in hand, and holds it up proudly. “here, papa! just a taste!”

he takes the bowl and raises it to his lips, taking a small, measured taste of the rice.

“well?” your daughter prompts, her eyes wide with anticipation.

he chews slowly, contemplating the flavor as if he’s analyzing a potent curse. you can see the wheels turning in his mind, weighing the taste against his own expectations.

“it’s... not terrible,” he finally admits, and your daughter squeals with delight, jumping up and down.

“see? I told you!” she exclaims, surprising sukuna as it is the first time he has seen her so excited. “it’s good, isn’t it?”

sukuna shoots you a look that says he’s still not convinced, but the corner of his mouth lifts slightly, revealing a hint of amusement. “you’ve successfully managed to corrupt my child,” he mutters to you.

“awesome,” you grin, “do I get a reward for being able to corrupt like you do, my husband?”

he rolls his eyes then presses a firm—borderline aggressive—kiss to the top of your head. you pull away and frown, “you tryna squish my head or something?”

“you ask for affection, but can’t handle it?” he tilts his head, a slight smirk on his unfairly handsome face.

“🤏🤏🤏🤏🤏”

“huh?”

“mama, how did you speak in drawings?”

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g0dlyunsub · 3 months ago

Text

under pressure.

getting strapped up to a lie detector as part of a bet wasn’t exactly in your plans, nor was exposing your deepest secret to spencer reid.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: fluff! confessions, coworkers to lovers, cheesiness overload

word count :: 1.6k

author’s note :: three weeks since i last posted a fic?? absolutely unacceptable *presses post button*

accompanying song :: more than friends by aidan bissett

“there’s a reason why that thing’s admissible in court,” you murmur to derek, watching as the officer packs the polygraph back into a cabinet.

derek chuckles.

“you think you can beat it?”

“i know i can beat it.”

you cross your arms and look up with a challenging smirk.

“there’s actually a lot of skepticism surrounding the validity and accuracy of polygraph testing, especially since it’s only an instrument that measures physiological changes like heart activity and perspiration. people often mistakenly assume they’re trying to deceive a machine, when really it’s all about the polygrapher, who oversees and administers the examination.”

you don’t even have to turn your head to know it’s spencer who’s just made his way into the room, derek’s lifted brow a confirmation of his presence.

“ah, look who’s finally found us. i was starting to miss you a little, kid.”

“what are you guys up to?” spencer asks in return, his gaze shifting from you to derek, before slowly making way back to you.

“l/n thinks she’ll pass the test with flying colors.” derek points at the cabinet and looks at you with a winsome grin.

“i won’t even have to try.” you shrug, placing your hands on your hips confidently.

“wanna bet on it?”

“loser pays for dinner. reid, you in?”

“i uh, i think i’ll just watch,” spencer politely declines, his hands nervously burrowing deep into his pockets.

derek bursts into laughter. “oh come on, kid, it’s free dinner for the both of us.”

spencer chuckles quietly. “we’ll see.”

you make your way over to the cabinet, kneeling to retrieve the bulky device, and set it down on the table behind you.

taking a seat, you lift your arms to secure the straps above and below your chest, and attach the blood pressure cuffs to your right arm.

“nuh-uh.”

you hear derek tut a sequence of disapproving clicks.

“hey kid, check to see if it’s around her securely.” derek tilts his head at spencer before nodding in your direction, adding, “don’t want you deceiving us in other ways.”

you roll your eyes before raising your arms in surrender. “go ahead, i’ve got nothing to hide.”

spencer slowly approaches you, hesitant steps overtaking his stride as he moves to stand in front of you. positioning a hand on your back for support, spencer sticks a finger between the gaps of the sides of your chest and the straps.

the straps tighten ever so slightly, causing your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. almost like an unconscious reflex, you release a breathy exhale.

“is that too tight?”

it’s barely a whisper, and he’s close, so close — his lips hover practically right beside your ear that you can feel his breath tickle the hairs on your neck.

“no,” you let out, “it’s good.”

your heart’s pounding now, and you’re thankful that you’re not hooked up to the monitor rate, at least not yet.

“just slide your finger into the clamp,” spencer instructs, his hand guiding yours into the plate where the electrodes lightly pinch your fingertips.

“is that comfortable?” spencer asks once again, his furrowed brows an indicator of marked concern as he searches for any signs of discomfort.

“yup.”

you bite your bottom lip as spencer hooks the cords to the monitor. his attentive eyes gloss over your strapped arm and flick downwards, stopping once they take note of your bouncing legs. you still your legs almost immediately.

“alright l/n, here’s a tester.” derek approaches you and lays his hands on the table, leaning forward. “have you ever lied to get out of trouble?”

you don’t even need to think twice. with a daring grin, you respond, “yes.”

“it’s stable,” spencer nods.

a mischievous smirk plays on derek’s lips.

“have you ever lied to hotch before?”

you huff an amused chuckle, one laced with throaty disbelief. “no.”

derek rolls his eyes, but spencer nods in your direction. “steady.”

“oh come on, not even once?”

you raise an eyebrow as if to challenge him. “why… have you?”

“this is about you, remember?” derek wiggles a finger disapprovingly. “next one… have you ever had any romantic feelings for anyone on our team?”

it's a question you were most definitely not expecting.

it’s only a brief pause, but it’s long enough to have you doubting – are your eyes widening? are your parting lips betraying you? is it actual sweat that’s starting to coat the tips of your fingers or are you imagining it?

“no, i have not.”

you feel heat start to creep into your cheeks, but try your best to remain unfazed as you await spencer’s judgment.

“give me… one second.”

the air suddenly feels ten times heavier.

a nervous chuckle escapes from your lips as you glance around.

“try not to bounce your leg up and down,” spencer finally calls back, and you have to physically restrain yourself from sighing in relief.

“alright, let’s try again,” derek announces as he finally takes a seat across from you. “have you ever had feelings for… doctor spencer reid?”

your instantaneous scoff overlaps with spencer’s. before you can respond, however, spencer chirps up first.

“y/n, don’t – don’t answer that.”

you, too, try to dodge the question with a dismissive wave. “come on, derek.”

thankfully, he rests the question aside. “fine. have you ever passed your files to someone else without them knowing?”

“yes.”

“to who?”

“to you, actually,” you boldly assert, leaning back into your chair.

“oh, she’s a rebel,” derek slyly retorts back, his gaze unflinching as spencer affirms your claim.

“did you, at any point, lie during this test?”

“no.”

“alright,” derek continues, “last question.”

“bring it.”

“do you currently have any romantic feelings for spencer reid?”

“seriously?” you swivel your head back and forth between derek and spencer, your eyes widening in disbelief at the fact that he’s repeating a previous question, merely adjusting a couple words.

it’s a question that you can’t answer. no, that you shouldn’t answer.

but this time, spencer’s quiet.

“you’re kidding me,” you laugh, “we are not being for real right now.”

“oh i’m being very real right now.”

your heart thumps like a wild drumbeat, your pulse echoing through the veins marking the side of your neck.

you start to lace your fingers together nervously as a thin layer of sweat covers your palms. the more you think about your moist hands, though, the more you start to sweat. it’s a constant feedback loop, feeding off of your deeply-buried secret.

slowly, you take off the straps and set the electrode in front of you, on the table.

radio silence falls over the air disturbingly, like the entire room’s tuned to the wrong frequency.

then, “reid, did you get that?”

it takes another five seconds for sound to fill the room once again, but the gravity of the silence is almost too heavy for you to register – your wordless confession strikes the back of your mind like an unpleasant storm, raining down on your thoughts with regret and humiliation.

“y/n, um, there’s a lot of environmental factors that can impact physiological response-”

there’s no going back anymore.

if you don't say it now, it'll linger in the depths of your mind forever.

“i do like you.”

when there’s no response, you decide to fully commit to your confession. “you said so yourself, this isn’t about fooling the device, it’s all about the polygrapher. so, spencer, what’s your judgment?”

you swear you can hear your own pulse drumming against you and shaking your body. with the faintest whisper, spencer utters, “i think you’re telling the truth.”

after hearing his response, you shove your hands into your pockets and prepare to leave, but not without throwing a glance at derek, who’s guiltily tracing the edges of his beard.

as you approach the door, however, a hand hooks around your elbow, stopping you dead in your tracks.

spencer’s hand.

“that’s it? you’re not going to hear my response?”

you don’t look up. “no, i… fine, tell me.”

if only you knew about the collective swarm of thoughts swimming in his brain, the thoughts that are denaturing all his senses of rationality and self-control. he has so much to tell you, words that he’d spill almost instantly if he’d been better prepared.

his hand moves down to envelop your own.

you do nothing to stop him.

slowly, he drags your hand upwards, until it rests against his chest.

against his speeding heart.

“spencer?”

the glow in his eyes is unmistakable – his dewy orbs gaze into yours lovingly, the exchange almost a confession in itself.

“i don’t think that either of us can beat the test,” spencer softly murmurs, his breathy chuckle sounding like music to your ears.

you don’t know how to describe it – it’s a bittersweet concoction of emotions that continues to spread throughout your body the more spencer nuzzles up against you.

“no,” you voice after a pause, “i don’t think we can.”

“very cute guys, but i’m waiting on my victory dinner, so if you two can-”

“oh shush, derek, you’re ruining the moment,” you say as you break into laughter, and bury your head against spencer’s chest when you fail to recover your composure.

“and you’re gonna have to pay me extra if you want me to keep my mouth shut in front of all the others,” derek retaliates, his smug grin causing you to roll your eyes.

“i think i can wrap the straps around his mouth if you hold him against the door,” you start while looking up into spencer’s eyes, speaking loud enough to draw derek’s attention.

spencer returns with a wide smile, one that tugs at your throat to release another hearty laugh.

“yeah, i’ll grab his arms first.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you

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lovedaruma · 11 months ago

Text

their spot ♥︎

sukuna x princess! reader

ー in which you and sukuna meet when he unintentionally saves you and you continue to meet him everyday in the same spot.

fem! reader, heian era, grumpy x sunshine, reader is innocent and playful, fluff + short smut

"Your Highness! Please don't go too far!" you hear your personal maid shout from the distance as you continue to run, laughing and waving her goodbye.

Any other princess wouldn't be allowed to go into the wilderness on her own, but as for Y/N, her family could not care less if she went missing the next morning.

You have already wandered through so many paths, yet there was still more to explore. You take a new route and stumble on an open area, seeing a hill in the distance and couldn't help but gawk at the beautiful area.

You cheerfully run towards the hill, taking a few breaths once you reached the top. From this height, you could see the beautiful view of the ocean, together with the breathtaking sunset. "Oh my..."

The sun continued to set as you watched from underneath the tree, sitting in a comfortable position. The comforting sounds of nature soon make you drift of to sleep.

A growl from the distance awakes you from your slumber. You jolt awake to see that the moon was already up in the sky. "Gosh, how many hours have passed?"

The sound of your voice summons another growl and you start to get nervous. You turn around and look down at the hill and see a big wolf that was twice your size, bright red eyes trying to scare you. However, you were too distracted at the sight of the furry animal.

"Oh my, It's a wolfy! Come boy, come!" you wave your hand, beckoning the wolf to come closer. It hesitates but slowly starts to approach you. "Here boy... I'm nice, I swear!"

The wolf is now in front of you sniffing your leg, you bring your hand to his neck and started scratching. "Aren't you a cutie~ I'm gonna name you-"

Your words were cut off as you watch the wolf get sliced in half, the blood splattering on your kimono.

"Tch."

A voice was heard from behind the wolf, you see a handsome man with four arms and eyes, marks which seemed like tattoos all over his body.

"Hey~ Why did you kill the wolfy?" you whined.

"Shut up, Human. What are you doing here?"

". . ."

He furrows his brows and growls, "Answer."

"But you said shut up." you smile playfully, clearly teasing him.

"You... Do you know who you're talking to?" He slowly approaches you.

He was trying to intimidate you with this slow steps but was shocked to see you stand up and walk over to him instead.

"Well, No! You haven't introduced yourself yet. I'm Y/N. What's your name?" you reach out your hand as you introduce yourself.

". . ."

You watch as his four eyes stare at you, trying to figure you out. You smile up at him and put your hand down.

"Well you don't have to tell me if you don't want to! I still would like to know why you killed the cute wolf though..." you pout as you look over at the furry body in pieces.

"You foolish woman. That wolf was going to make you its dinner." he glares at you, "And this area here is mine. I slaughter everything and everyone that trespasses."

He raises one of his hands to kill you in one swoop, but stops as you perk up and grab one of his hands in joy.

"Oh, so you saved me?! Thank you, kind stranger." you give his hand a small squeeze to show your appreciation.

He stares at both of your hands together for a few seconds before he smacks your hand away, "Tch, How dare you touch me."

You pout as you rub your wrist, "Oh, my apologies . It was bad manners of me to grab you without asking. I'll do that next time!"

"Hah, next time?" He chuckled pure evil, "There will be no next time. Don't think you're coming out of here alive, human."

"That can't be, I have to repay you! You saved me, after all... Even though I don't have much influence, I'm still a princess!"

"Princess? Stop lying woman. The only child I know of royalty here is a prince."

"Yeah~ That's my brother!" you smile, unbothered that people weren't aware that there was a princess in the first place. "And I have a name, you know."

A few seconds of silence pass, him just staring at you. He scoffs and turns to walk away. "Leave."

You were about to retort back but realized how far in the night it is so you stand up and call out to him, "Hey~ I'll be back here tomorrow okay?"

You laugh as you see him turn his head to scowl at you.

The next day soon arrives and you're back at the same spot on the beautiful hill. You sit down under a tree and bask in the view.

The silence was interrupted by a familiar voice. "You have a death wish, huh?"

"Hey there! Come, sit!" you giggle and pat the spot next to him.

"Tch, this is where I usually sit, woman." He scoffs as he sits down, not showing he was curious at the human interacting with him.

"So... I heard a few guards talking about a certain king of the curses...." you side-eye him, smiling playfully. "Hehe, what even is your name?"

"Ryomen Sukuna. Remember the name of the one who's gonna kill you." He smirks.

"Then why haven't you killed me yet?" you tilt your head.

"I'll have my fun with you for now. You're quite the peculiar human."

"Oh, tell me in advance when you're gonna kill me then, Sukuna!"

"You..." he glares, "Do you not value your life?"

"Meh, not really... No one would miss me anyway." I frown, but a smile quickly replaces it, "So I've decided to just live to the fullest. If I die today, at least I had fun yesterday~"

Sukuna stays silent as he watches you cheerfully talk about death with his brows furrowed. You hum a tune while enjoying the comfortable silence for a few minutes and then turn to look at him.

Your lips part when you continue to stare at him, his features complimenting his handsome face. Sukuna, for some reason, found it hard not to look back at your stare. After a while, he turned his head to look back into your eyes.

You flinch as his eyes look into yours. Your cheeks tint at his intimidating state and you give him a shy smile.

"So... um... what's... your favorite color...?"

Silence fills the air at the random question, and your cheeks tint even more. You let out a small laugh at your own embarrassment.

Sukuna takes a peek at the warm flush of your cheeks and lets out a huff, "Red."

You whip your head to him and flash a bright smile, "That really suits you! Mine is white hehe~"

". . ."

"So... what do you like to ea-"

"Shut up."

You zip your lips shut and sit more comfortably next to him. The silence was so oddly comforting that you drifted off to sleep. Your head slowly leaning to to direction Sukuna was sitting.

His shoulder was too high for your small figure, so your head rested on the side of his arm. Sukuna looked down, careful not to move his arm. "Tch, unbelievable."

Although he looked annoyed, he didn't move his arm for the rest of his time there.

You wake up and your eyes slowly open. The sun in the horizon has just set and the moon is starting to peak into the sky. Your head lifts up from an... arm?

"Wha..." you let out a yawn.

You hear a scoff, "Why did you sleep for so long?"

"S-Sukuna?!"

You put the pieces together and realize that Sukuna let you sleep on his arm until you woke up. The thought of that making your cheeks warm.

"Sukuna... that's so sweet of you!" you show a downturned smile to express how grateful you were.

He scowls at you and in a blink, he disappears.

"He didn't even let me say bye..."

You arrive at the same spot under the tree on the hill. Surprisingly, you see Sukuna already there.

"You're here!~"

He opens two eyes to see your figure running towards him. He sighs and shuts his eyes again, slowly getting used to his human's presence.

You stop right in front of him, admiring his face once more, being less embarrassed now that his eyes were shut. Soon, you give into your temptation.

"Sukuna..."

He opens an eye.

"Can I touch you now? I asked first this time!" you clasp your hands and interwine your fingers to say please.

He scoffs and shuts the eye. You frown letting out a small 'Hmp' of sulk.

"I didn't say no."

You gasp in excitement and reach out your hands to his face. Your fingertips gently touch his face. You didn't notice the subtle flinch Sukuna did.

Your fingers trace the marks on his face. He exhales from his nose, the air hitting your skin making you feel warm inside. You slowly lift your thumbs to caress the area next to his bottom eyes, the rest of your fingers at the back of his ear. You couldn't help but hum a small 'woah~' in admiration.

"Your eyes are beautiful." Flustered at your own words, your cheeks tint in embarrassment.

His eyes open, both of you staring into each other. He glares at you and whips his head to the side, your hands still on his face. "How absurd."

"It's true..." You let out a chuckle and kneel down next to him. This time, you trace the marks on his arms.

What you didn't notice earlier was how Sukuna's cheeks warmed up at your compliment, with the same grumpy face. He shook his head and sighed, focusing on the feeling of your skin on his.

The rest of the day you just held onto his hand tracing lines and giving light massages while bringing up small conversation topics. He gave small answers, but you were overjoyed at your interactions.

Two weeks have gone by since then. As the days continued, Sukuna began to warm up more to you, talking to you in longer sentences and not telling you to shut up anymore. You were currently on your way to meet him again. Meanwhile, Sukuna was starting to realize his feelings for you.

"Princess Y/N, Please! Finish your food before you go!" The maid sighs as she watches you run away. She looks over at the unfinished plate, wondering what in the wilderness is so interesting to her highness.

As she takes a closer look in the plate, she gasps. "Oh my heavens! T-This is... The Princess is allergic to this!"

Without a care in the world, you skip towards Sukuna's spot, excited to meet your king of the curses.

"I'm here!"

Insted of sitting in his usual spot, he was standing near the cliff, looking at the horizon.

"Sukuna! you admiring the view?"

He doesn't reply and you look at his back, confused. The dark clouds in the sky let out a thunder.

"How dare you."

"W-What?"

He turns around and scowls, "How dare you make me feel- Ugh."

"Huh?" you say confused, raindrops start dropping on both of you.

In a flash, he disappears from where he was standing and was now in front of you. His hand swiftly attacks for your neck but he quickly stops and is an inch away from your skin.

You flinch, but don't move. you give him a chuckle.

"Sukuna... I told you in advance to tell me first before you kill me." you laugh.

He growls in frustration and puts his hands down. "Ugh..."

"But... As strange as it may seem, the time I spent with you was the happiest I've ever been. Thank you for showing me kindness, even in your own way. Farewell, Sukuna. I will never forget you!"

You stand on your tip toes and met your lips with his. It was just a gentle peck, but it sent shivers down her spine.

"Idiot."

As you pull away, content, you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes. 'I wonder what face he's making right now', the thought making you smile. You grab the same hands that tried to attack you earlier and wrapped them around your neck.

"Huh?" you look up at him confused, only to be more confused as you analyzed his face.

'He looks... troubled? I'm not so sure'

He pulls his hands away from your neck and sighs. He grabs you arms and rests his head on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "What kind of sick curse is this..."

". . . Sukuna?"

Although he wasn't exactly hugging you, you wrap your arms around him and hug back. The rain hitting the both of you as you warm up in each other's arms.

". . . I'm confused, are you still killing me or not?"

". . . Pft."

You gawk as you hear Sukuna let out a chuckle. Seeing his lips turn up was a better view than the horizon behind them.

You look up at him and smile, "Hehe, you still haven't answered m-"

The moment was interrupted when you cough out blood. A sudden burning sensation you feel in your chest. You let go of him to hold your chest in pain, your body slouching as you groan.

"D-Damn...I-I shouldn't have-ugh... ate those."

"Y/N?!"

The sound of his name flow out of his voice made your heart flutter but the pain overpowers that.

"Agh-" You drop to the floor, "Don't w-worry, these are just allergies."

He gets on his knees and uses his reverse cursed technique to heal you from your suffering. The pain was too much for you to handle though, and you pass out in his arms.

You jolt awake in your room, looking around confused.

"Sukuna?"

You call out for him but nothing happens. His scent still lingering in the room so you're sure he tucked you back into bed.

You smile as your heart flutters, going back to sleep.

"Y-Your Highness! Are you sure you're okay?" your maid stutters as she hands you your breakfast the next morning.

"Yes yes~ Don't worry about lil' old me!"

You quickly finish your breakfast, wanting to see him as soon as possible. You quickly run and you arrive at the spot in no time and you see him there.

You don't even call out to him, you just run towards his sitting figure, bend over, and wrap your arms around his neck.

He jolts in surprise but immediately calms down as he takes a whiff of your hair.

"Sukuna, you saved me twice already. Thank you for yesterday." you smile, embarrassed to make eye contact with him.

He places a hand on your back to push your body into his. Now, you're straddling his lap and you stay in position.

You fidget your hands, "Ugh~ It's kinda awkward now after I did a whole farewell speech yesterday..." you whine as you recall the events yesterday.

"Yeah, you're farewell kiss too."

You blush and groan into his shoulder, clenching your fists in his robe in embarrassment.

"Hah, is the princess embarrassed? Look at me."

As if it was a spell, you comply immediately and shyly pull away to look at him.

He grabs your chin and pulls your face closer.

"You have to take responsibility for what you did yesterday." He smirks.

"R-Responsibility?!" you squeak.

"Don't think I'll be satisfied with a mere kiss, Princess."

He smashes his lips onto yours. Unlike the sweet and short peck, this was hot and passionate. His upper arms land on your waist and slides the up and down the side of your body.

You feel his tongue enter your mouth and you shift your hips to adjust your position, making you grind on his crotch. The friction making you both groan in pleasure, all of his blood rushing to the length under his robe.

"S-Sukuna." you couldn't help but whine his name in the middle of your tongues dancing. Hearing his name turns him on even more, and his hands go from your hips to sliding inside your kimono to grab hold of your breasts.

You let out a moan at his touch on your bare chest. His bottom arms sliding up your kimono underneath you, his hands traveling up to grope both cheeks of your ass. Wanting to touch him, your hands go down to his chest, sliding inside his robe to touch explore your hands around his bare chest and abs. Your touch making Sukuna groan and start grinding his hips underneath yours, you moan in his lips and grind on him as well.

His hands slide off your kimono, leaving you in your undergarments. The cool air hitting your skin, but you couldn't feel it from the heat of the intimate moment. His bottom hands start to tug on your panties and he whispers into your lips.

"You think you can handle me, Princess?"

You moan in confirmation, sliding off the top part of his robe and continuing to grind on him. He hisses in pleasure and rips off your panties and throw them to the side.

"Ah!" you squeak in embarrassment, pulling away and looking down at yourself, but what caught your eye is the visible bulge twitching underneath the fabric of his robe. You curiously grope it, causing a moan to slip off his mouth, and snatches your hand away.

"Later."

He grabs both of your wrists and pushes you to the clean grass. He looks up and down your naked body and smirks, feeling another twitch from his cock. His eyes landed on your pussy, already soaking wet.

His eyes darkens and he grins, ready to devour you. He brings a hand to your folds and run his fingers along the wetness dripping down your thighs. "How can you be this wet already?" he chuckles and inserts a finger inside, his other hands playing with your breasts.

The sensation making you moan in pleasure, the back of your hand covering your mouth in embarrassment. The moans continue when he starts thrusting the finger in a moderate motion. After a few seconds of adjusting, he shoves another finger in.

The sounds of his fingers fucking your wet pussy fill the air. He feels your walls clench and sees your body start to arch. He sees the way you were making a mess already just with his fingers. Your moans get whinier and he loses it.

He grunts and shoves the robe of his body and your eyes widen. You stare at his two cocks twitching in the air, gulping at its huge size. "S-Sukuna..."

"You want to stop?" you whine and shook your head immediately, "That's what I thought. Now come here, princess."

Not giving you enough time to process, he picks you up and puts him in the stradling position you were earlier in, the tip of his cock goes in and he thrusts inside.

"Ngh- Ah~ S-Sukuna." He grunts in reply, feeling your pussy clench in his hard cock.

"Fuck, princess."

The pleasure was nothing you ever felt before. You look down and see his other cock twitching against your stomach. You reach your hand to grab his length which causes his head to roll back in pleasure and let out a deep moan.

You pump his cock, while adjusting to the other cock that was already inside you. "Prince- Agh, Shit." Your hand going faster and faster, the sounds of his groans making your walls clench, making him groan even louder.

He grabs your hand to stop you. "I can't hold it anymore. I'm gonna destroy this tight little pussy, yeah?"

He grabs your hips and starts bouncing you up and down, his cock thrusting inside of you without mercy.

"Ah... Suku- Agh~" You were drowning in pleasure, eyes rolling back as you listen to the sounds of your wetness and both of your skins slapping against each other.

He was thrusting into you mercilessly, your mewls just making his climax come closer. He feels your walls clench uncontrollably and he moans your name.

"Y/N. Fuck- I'm going crazy" he huffs, acting like an animal in heat.

He pushes you back into the soft grass into a new position, bringing your knees to your chest, his cock thrusting into you sloppily. A visible bump in your belly when he thrusts inside. Two hands behind your knees. One hand rubbing your clit. One hand pumping his other cock.

"Agh~ T-There... Sukuna-"

He hits a certain spot causing your body to twitch and making your eyes water up from the pleasure.

Sukuna pounds faster into your pussy, his precum smeared along your soaked walls. You were letting him use your body and it felt so good.

You feel something building up inside of you, and you whine. "Ah- wait! Sukuna~ I- I-" you whine in pleasure as your body arches, your juices spilling into his cock.

"That's right, princess. Let it out." he coos into your ear. "My turn."

You gasp for air as he thrusts again into your sensitive pussy, making your mewl echo into the air. Your juices increase the sound of the wetness as he slaps his skin into yours, the mix of your arousals filling the air.

"Fuck- I should fill you up, huh? Breed my precious princess?"

"Agh- P-Please!~ I-"

He moans as he shoots his load into you and fill up your pussy, having both of your juices mixed up. His other cock also shooting cum onto your stomach. Your body twitches at the feeling of his seed inside you, grabbing both of his arms for support. He sighs in pleasure and pulls out, watching as the juices ooze out of your aching pussy.

"You did so good, Princess." is the last thing you hear before you pass out.

You flutter your eyes open to see a room that wasn't yours. Sukuna lying down next to you in bed. You look down on your clothed body to see you were cleaned up and well taken care of after.

"Sukuna..." you mutter, eyes still droopy "I can't move my legs~"

"Heh, you're gonna get used to it."

"Hm?" You tilt your head.

"You're mine now. This is the consequence of your actions, right? You can't escape now." He smirks as he picks you up and puts you on top of him.

You stare at him in shock then laugh, "Now why would I dare leave my king, he'll get lonely without me~"

You plant a sweet kiss on his lips and pull away to see a smile on his face. His smile making you feel warm inside as your cheeks tint. You giggle and snuggle into his arms and you enjoy each other's warm, and will continue to enjoy each other's presence in the future.

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #heian era

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ybklix · 4 months ago

Text

the party

PART TWO OF THE PROJECT / part one ⭑.ᐟ ★ pairing: softdom!bangchan x inexperiencedfem!reader

✦summary: The inevitable closeness and attraction with Chan is still there, once he can finally touch you, it only remains for him to show you slowly a little bit of his world.

♡ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, college au, grinding, clitplay, fingering, handjob, mutual masturbation, piv, pet names, hints of fluff.

word count: 8.2k

miniplaylist: house of balloons by the weeknd / 2 on by tinashe / collide by justine skye / lost in the fire by the weeknd / connected by bang chan

masterlist - taglist ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

a/n: i made it fluffier than it should be oops

After that night of released tensions, there was nothing but an obvious closeness between you and Chan, moments after you finished with your first oral sex, he saw you, so confused with such a sweet expression for him, tired, trying to recover, so wet between your orgasm and his saliva, so he held back, held back so much from not fucking you at that very moment, from pulling his cock out and waiting to be satisfied, so he only admired your exposed pussy once more, your body moving and closing your legs slightly slowly, him with such a sweet but arrogant smile. Chan wiped his mouth to approach you and give you a small kiss on your forehead, feeling close to him your agitated complexion and heavy breathing, you couldn't think of anything else but to regain your stability, but at the same time you wondered anxiously if after all the foreplay Chan would dare to fuck you. But you forgot it all once you felt a tender kiss on your face instead.

“Get some rest, baby, let's finish tomorrow, okay?” he whispered to you, shuddering every part of your sensitive body.

You assumed he was talking about the project. You obeyed him, cleaning up your little mess and did something you never thought you would do, at least not now, as unexpectedly as your hot encounter was, you offered him to sleep over at your apartment, a proposal which Chan accepted with much joy, his heart beating out of his chest, simply because he liked you too much, seeing him in such a sweet act as he read your shy movements when you told him that, beyond seeing himself as he used to before: spending the night at a woman's home since he wanted to fuck her all night but you… with your cheeks still hot, Chan knew perfectly well that your intentions were pure and out of kindness, and that drove him even crazier, out of tenderness.

He insisted on sleeping on the couch to not make you uncomfortable since you had an extra room but there was no other bed and you… swallowing all your pride persuading him that it was more than okay for him to sleep with you since you suddenly needed his body close to yours, you didn't tell him any of that, you just argued that he must be tired and that your bed was even more comfortable. He agreed, wearing your most oversized sweatpants you had, still fitting his muscular body, and you slept comfortably in his arms, after giving you a very pleasant experience.

He never acted weird afterward for any second, beyond simple giggles every time he saw you as he had in his mind the image of you so surrendered to him letting yourself be touched. However, other than that, Chan still behaved as normal, the small details for you were the hickeys you suddenly had to cover up, but he even became more attached to you, confusing you so much as you were starting to see a side of him that you had never felt or shown interest in knowing about anyone else. The project was a stressful success, Chan had it all, he was smart and attentive so for once in your life you didn't carry absolutely all the weight of academic work. After that day he sat near you every day, just talked and talked, went to lunch with you, and was so cute being genuinely interested in you in general.

Unlike him you had no other activity outside of college, he kept busy during the day, but being with a little more confidence towards you since that night, Chan was really managing to be able to make time off and see you off campus without it being too late, he would endeavor to sit and eat with you, ask you where you were and if he could take you to your apartment, where you invited him in and stayed for a while exclusively talking, in a slightly so tense atmosphere as the tension of both of you was so tangible; and so it went for the rest of the week. His closeness was so evident as he was not someone who went unnoticed around the university and you knew that there were already countless rumors that for Chan to be around you, so strangely behind you was because somehow you had already had sex or Chan was waiting to have it with you soon. Chan knew it too, the silly and immature rumors he didn't care unless he saw that they were bothering you, that's when he would act and stop everything… until then, the rumors weren't that bad, at least he thought so, he thought they were ridiculous and didn't care about them since at the end of the day he was with you.

On the other hand, your small circle of friends was severely puzzled as to what was going on between you and Chan, although not even you knew it clearly because you were really starting to like him, he was so cute and showed a genuine interest in you that it suddenly drove you crazy. You couldn't confess to them that you were considering him seriously, in such a short time.

It didn't bother you, your dirty little secret was that you enjoyed a wonderful night with Chan, so the little rumors made you a little proud as you had never experienced such a thing.

But you seriously liked Chan, he was so cute with you and a part of you didn't want him to only want you for sex, as you recognized he had a reputation, but you wanted to ignore it at all costs, you didn't want to be able to believe that all his kindness and attention was only focused on having sex afterwards, as all the rumors claimed, you had no idea how crazy you had Chan at your disposal and power.

And once again, Chan walked out of class with you, on a Friday, he looked so cute following you with a smile, just showing that he was so happy and comfortable to be with you. You both walked around the campus comfortably until he suddenly blurts out:

“Mmm what are you doing today?”

He was so busy, but he would always make sure to make room for you, he really wanted to ask you out, he wanted you to hang out with him seriously, but he was suddenly so shy at the also new sensations for him, he had never liked someone of that magnitude, so purely that sometimes it came to scare him.

You looked into his eyes, his slitted, shining dark eyes, waiting for an answer. You were so confused, you wanted him all of a sudden, just for you, but you were so afraid of interpreting things and that at the end of the day… he only wanted you for pleasure. Sadly, just today you were going to see some friends, but you had already spent the rest of the week together, Chan seemed to just want to be with you.

“Mmm, I'll see some friends.”

You saw his excited expression soften a little, somewhat disappointed.

“Oh, I see. Can we meet tomorrow?”

You smiled at him, analyzing every detail of his face, suddenly questioning all the typical questions a delusional woman at that precise moment could ask herself, wondering if all the little moments you saw each other and spent together he counted as a date or if he ever really asked you out more formally, you honestly had no idea how that dating system worked, so you needed a little help from your friends as soon as possible, you were losing your breath just at the sight of him...

You were about to happily answer him a yes, glad to hear what his proposal would be to spend time together, but a boy interrupted you, walked around to meet Chan and squeezed him amicably by the shoulder.

“Hey, dude, see you tomorrow, don't skip, okay?” the boy said to Chan with a smile, pointing at him amicably and just walking away.

The both of you were surprised by his sudden action and appearance and watched the muscular boy walk away. You decided to play a little.

“I guess you already had plans tomorrow.”

“They don't matter. I can cancel anything to see you” he quickly replied, making it look slightly intense, causing you to get a heat in your cheeks, quickly understanding what he meant.

Since when had you become so important to him?

You both paused for a few moments to get a better look at each other. His answer was so obvious but you still had your doubts.

You blinked in puzzlement, still with your cheeks red, which Chan found adorable and realized the tone his earlier comment may have sounded in, embarrassing him and turning his ears red, he was crazy about you, he needed you, he wanted to be with you and do all the sweet cheesy things, at the same time he wanted to balance it with the most amazing sex.

“What were your plans?” you asked again, still embarrassed and without thinking, averting the subject and your eyes from his gaze.

“Ah it's nothing, a party at a club for one of the frat boys' birthday.”

You nodded, listening to him intently, as he mentioned it with such disinterest. Chan knew that a party was not your ideal environment and place, so he simply deflected that kind of event from you and wanted to do more kinds of things that would come in your mood.

You again appreciated the details of his face and suddenly thought of all the things you did that were related to you… but you didn't do things that were more like him, so without thinking once more you said, looking him in the eye:

“You should go.”

Once again Chan's face showed disappointment, but that wasn't where you wanted to go.

“You want me to go…?”

“We can go together” you added suddenly, wanting to wipe the disappointment off his pretty face.

He was shocked by your decision, it wasn't that he didn't want to invite you, he just never considered that it would be something you wanted to do. Chan wasn't a party guy either, but he had to do it for the sake of the fraternity and for hanging out with his friends, giving him the reputation of a famous guy who liked to party.

“Ah, sure, I'd love to” he smiled at you, “I didn't suggest it because I didn't think you'd want to go…”

You smiled back, feeling proud to turn the tables a little. It was a party, nothing out of this world, you didn't attend many regularly but you were slightly familiar, at least with the context and image of what it could be like, since honestly, you hadn't attended one ever and you felt a bit pathetic and nerdy every time you were with Chan, someone so knowledgeable and wonderful in all areas, you wanted to try new things, him and his little world.

“I want to go” you replied confidently and suddenly fell into embarrassment, “Oh I'm sorry, can I go?”

Chan licked his lips happily, somewhat strangely at your sudden enthusiasm for attending a college party, but genuinely happy. He didn't want to stay with the image of a partying college boy and part of a fraternity all his life, he wanted to be someone serious, he wanted you to take him seriously and see him with eyes that he was just a guy studying physics who liked a girl in his class and both of them could come up with a lot of things.

“Sure you can” he looked at you tenderly ”Well, then how about if I pick you up tomorrow at 9?”

You nodded, your heart racing, not knowing where your boldness and bravery had come from so suddenly. Chan was impressed too but he liked you and just hoped you wouldn't be so disappointed, he recognized that college parties you could take as unusual, weird and boring. And it was true, they had never caught your attention, until Chan lightly involved you in them.

You didn't know what to expect, but you were slightly excited. And once again, Chan made sure to walk you to the place where you would meet your friend, raising glances from her and when you told her that you would go out with him for a party tomorrow she called you crazy, in a good way, and convinced you to buy a nice dress.

[…]

You were nervous, as much as Chan was about taking you to his side, not as something official, but certainly taking such a big step, making everyone assume that you are that plus one to take everywhere, he wanted you like that, always close, his little crush was bearing more and more fruit and was even developing so many true and genuine feelings for you, he felt ridiculous, falling in love at his age… he was not a faithful believer of love until he met you, he wanted to be with you, to take care of you and dedicate his days to you.

All day long you were texting until the real moment came when he knocked on your door.

Your best friend gave you instructions and advice on what to drink, what to wear and what was the right makeup for such a night. Then you opened the door, leaving Chris engrossed, caught up in your perfume and as if he was in a movie, all in slow motion, in the typical scene where the guy recognizes that she's the girl and suddenly sees her ten times more attractive, that was partly the case, he always found you so attractive, both inside and out, but today, you looked in a way that even in his deepest fantasy he couldn't have imagined, in a tight black dress, without your glasses, your pretty eyes highlighted in shimmering makeup eyeshadow, your eyelashes long and curly, a blush that looked perfect on you and glossy lipstick on your lips that Chan suddenly wanted to kiss so badly.

Needless to say, you stole his breath away.

“You look beautiful” he mentioned.

Your cheeks naturally started to turn red. He wasn't far behind, he was so handsome, with his outfit, black shirt and pants with a cool design, his short brushed hair and a long chain decorating his neck and falling down his chest.

“You look good too” you could say.

Chan chuckled. And proposed walking out to his car where he opened the door for you. He had his own car, but that first time the two of you met, he was so nervous that he walked to the coffee shop to see you. But now he controlled his nerves, but he didn't know exactly how to react or what to do to have you in intimacy again, not that he always idealized that, but it was a recurring thought in his head every time he thought of you, he thought of you and everything he loved about you, but also of that wonderful night when he made you see stars, in your bodies needing each other, he wanted so badly to repeat it, but he didn't want to pressure you as he didn't want you to see him as someone just looking for sex, when he really desired a connection with you.

Chan licked his lips, watching you out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't help it, he wanted you in so many ways, first it was the sweet moment when he cherished every inch of you innocently, now he wanted to worship every inch of you so dirty, he wanted to possess you right there now, suddenly his clothes were so tight, just like your dress, he was lost and he would give it all just to touch you again, caress your thigh on the way, kiss you, but he had decided to be so cute with you and set all those limits until you spoke up, confirming to him what you wanted, if you wanted a relationship where you were just friends for pleasure, it would be painful for him, he would involve feelings, but he would be fine with that, but you were so shy and just pretended nothing had happened that night.

Chan cleared his throat, at the same time he had so many questions for you.

“Mmm, you brought your ID, didn't you?” he spoke to break the silence.

You nodded. You were ready but as you got closer to your destination you regretted it more and more, but it was worth it to be close to Chan.

“Are you sure you want to go? Any time you want to leave we can do it” he spoke again, slightly concerned.

You looked at him. Chan stopped the car at a red light. You recognized once again how handsome he looked, his strong arms on the steering wheel, all of him, you wanted to feel his lips again.

“I'll be fine. You think I'm a spoilsport?”

Chan laughed, looking you straight in the eye.

“It's not that… it's just that,” he decided to be honest, “I never thought a club would be your kind of fun.”

You examined his face, flooding you with the ideas that he had you in a concept of an innocent studious girl, it was true, you didn't go to parties much and stayed in your apartment studying or just locked up watching some movie, but that Chan had you in that concept somehow caused you insecurity, you wanted to be for him everything he was looking for and you were so inexperienced with men that you didn't know clearly what it was he wanted. Whether the boring little version of you, or someone more outgoing that he might consider taking with his friends.

“It's not,” you confessed, “But a little party never hurt someone.”

Chan smiled and the green light illuminated his face. It wasn't a small party, it was a crowded club and his friend would be celebrating his birthday in a small VIP area. He just hoped you were ready.

And when you arrived everything was fine. Chan grabbed you by the waist, going straight to the security guy and showing some kind of card and let him in without waiting in line. You blinked in bewilderment, as the man didn't question anything at all and without realizing it, you were slowly making your way into the place. It was dark, smelled of air freshener and cigarettes and as you entered the music got louder, like Chan's grip on you.

You were inside, the lights illuminated both of you. For a second you forgot to recharge your social battery, but you would be fine, you convinced yourself, you would drink and at the end of the night you hoped to at least return to kiss Chan and you would have the silly excuse that the situation warranted it.

“Let's go to the VIP” Chan shouted in your ear, which didn't sound like a shout, it sounded normal because of the volume of the music.

You tried to look at him, he looked so relaxed, like it was something he did often. You didn't know what he was talking about but you held your bag tighter and he kept holding you tightly by the waist and walking along with you, passing between groups of people, Chan was making sure you didn't bump into anyone, that no one touched or brushed against you, his face was so focused, almost as if it was his job, like a bodyguard, putting you more in a strange mood, liking him even more.

You noticed Chan stopped and changed the direction of his steps when he saw someone, you both walked up a few stairs and met a group of people away from the main dance floor.

Chan approached to a slim blond guy, with a drink in his hand and enjoying the loud music, Chan questioned him something inaudible to you, to which he responded with an exaggerated gesture with his arms, as if indicating that everyone was there. Chan looked around, while you felt lost, almost like a fish out of water, so exposed on a surface that wasn't yours, you didn't want to go home, but you just wanted to relax, stop tensing up and enjoy the moment.

“Well, everyone's here” Chan spoke loudly in your ear again. You nodded, “It's Minho's party, another frat boy, Changbin dragged him here, but he's fun. I live with three other guys, I never told you before? Don't think it's twenty guys locked up in a house.”

You laughed, you were so focused on listening to him and he would suddenly come out with his comments.

“I'll introduce you to them” he said again.

Moments later Chan introduced you to each of his friends, seven in total, the others just made comments on the air with their names. Chan was a gentleman but he never introduced a girl to his friends, not in such a formal way and between giggles showing his nervousness.

You tried to adjust and before you knew it you were comfortably engaged in a conversation with Hyunjin, Chan's friend and roommate. Then he showed up, somewhat jealous that you wouldn't stop talking to Hyunjin, but happy that you were getting along so well with someone close to him and adjusting to what can be an overwhelming environment, Chan asked you if you wanted something to drink to which you nodded saying whatever was fine, then you remembered about not trusting drinks to men, but it was Chan, you trusted him blindly. Chan wanted to spare you the fatigue of going through people to get a drink so he offered to bring it to you, plus you were comfortably seated, away from Hyunjin, but talking to him.

Within minutes of Chan leaving as he was confident you were fine with his close friend, Hyunjin left with regret as a girl called him on the phone and he claimed she had just arrived and he would go get her, he apologized and left, leaving you sitting and feeling strange. Half of Chan's friends were lost on the dance floor, you suddenly felt stranded, you were about to stand up, but you felt someone sit near you which you thought for a microsecond it would be Chan but your expression and excitement changed as you realized it was a stranger, boldly looking at your cleavage.

“College girl, right? A lot of college students tend to come here often, but someone like you I've never seen before…. I'm Changwook, by the way.”

You sketched an awkward smile, you felt him unnecessarily close to you. You saw him, he looked older, he wasn't ugly, but his strange behavior completely displeased you. You didn't know what to say, you had nothing else to say but to get out of the situation.

“Are you here by yourself? Or are any of your friends around? And you're not drinking, honey, I'll buy you drinks, it would be a pl--”

“Excuse me.”

It was what you both could hear over the loud music, the voice was so familiar to you, it came out in such a loud and demanding tone, feeling so suddenly the presence of someone right in front of you. You felt so relieved to see Chan, just when you needed him. He was carrying a drink for the ones he went for but left it on the small table in front of the elongated couch you were sitting on. Chan could see your discomfort and your relief reflected on your face at the sight of him. The unknown boy just smirked at you and ignored you completely, despite noticing the obvious and obvious pout Chan was making at him.

“Well, what drink would you like to try, cutie?” he leaned close to your ear for you to hear, his thigh brushing against yours, you were uncomfortable.

Chan warmed his body furiously.

For some reason you were motionless, not knowing what exactly to do, you didn't want to be a girl in distress and helpless but it was all so new and sudden, the atmosphere of a club, a strange and dischargeable guy approaching you without leaving you space and seeing you dirty….

“Didn't you fucking hear me? Get away from her.”

This time Chan repeated more annoyed seeing his attitude and that he had completely ignored him, plus he couldn't tolerate seeing you like that. The man looked up in annoyance and Chan gently took your arm so you could stand up, you took his hand and approached him almost like a helpless child in fear, relieved to be able to feel the warmth of his body close and him close in general.

The man was puzzled and understood everything, or at least he thought he did with an incredulous smile.

“Ahh, you were coming with your boyfriend?” he commented and stood up, standing dangerously in front of Chan, you stood behind him, still holding on to his arm and hand, “Why would you leave your cute little girlfriend alone, with a dress like that it's so dangerous…”

Chan wanted them to call you his girlfriend but not coming from some weird guy, he was furious, he clenched his free fist but you noticed the muscles in the left arm you were holding, tense up, his nostrils flared angrily, the man looked so defiant and Chan was already glaring at him, clenching his jaw, unable to believe he was making comments about you and what you were wearing which you are free to do, he was disgusted to even have him around, he wanted to beat him to a pulp. But he decided to calm down, a fight would get him nowhere, but he would really break everything for you.

“Just get lost, man. Leave her alone, she's with me” he mumbled, annoyed and choosing to calm down.

You watched the scene with some uncertainty, you didn't know the guy and you didn't know what he was capable of, and suddenly you didn't know about Chan either as he really looked annoyed and so domineering. It was a bad tension, you'd hate it if they started fighting.

The man saw Chan more defiant, clenching his fist, you saw it and you were scared that at any moment he might hit Chan.

“Alright alright I get it, fine.”

The guy left, annoyed and glaring at both of you, you could breathe easy, Chan fixedly watched him walk away until he was lost in the crowd, waiting for small seconds when something unexpected will happen again, when he lost sight of him and he felt inside that the area was clear and free of him, he abruptly turned to you, taking you by the face and seeing you so concerned, softening his eyebrows and looking at you as if you were the most fragile creature in the world and spoke to you softly in contrast to his annoyed tone and tense body just seconds ago.

“Are you all right? What did he do to you? Why were you alone? Hyunjin left you? That damn motherf…"

You saw him slightly upset as he filled you with comments and by his heavy but tender gaze on you, he looked so worried about you.

“I'm fine, really, he didn't do anything to me-”

“But he was a mother fucking creep. Where's Hyunjin? Sorry sorry for leaving you, I should never have done that, do you want to go home now? Do you want me to take you?”

He was still talking so worried that now you felt tender. His face was close to yours and you stared into his bright eyes amidst the darkness of the place.

“I'm fine, it wasn't Hyunjin's responsibility to take care of me anyway-”

“You're right” he interrupted you again, ”I should have been there, I never meant to leave you. Shall we go home?”

You smiled softly at him, enjoying his hand on your face and how serious he sounded about it.

“Mmm, we just got here, don't let this bad timing ruin everything, yeah?”

Chan smiled at your response. He couldn't let something happen to you because of something he felt was dragging you down. He nodded, beginning to believe you were liking being there at least a little.

“What drink did you bring?” you deflected the subject.

Chan slowly let go of you making you blush since you were so close immersed in your bubble.

“Mmm want to taste it?” he commented, picking up the drink again to hand it to you.

“Just one?” you said amused.

“You can only have one today” he replied playing along.

“What about yours?”

“I won't drink, doll, I'm driving and I have to get you home safely.”

You nodded once again blushing at his comment as you took a sip of the drink, it was sweet, but you couldn't deny that the bitter taste of alcohol was there. There were so many things about Chan that could surprise you, like the fact that he hardly ever drank, that he hardly ever attended parties but maintained a complete opposite image somehow.

After the bad moment, once again Chan approached his friends who were in an area of the dance floor on the borders, Felix and Hyunjin were having fun while the rest were there and others were lost somewhere else. It was a public space evidently and the stares were so common, but for some reason you felt them ten times heavier than in other places and it was inevitable, you were glowing and Chan could also tell how many eyes were focused on you.

But 5 drinks later you were starting to see the fun and join the dance along with Felix, you had such a short tolerance for alcohol, you didn't try it regularly, you were losing control and getting drunk. Chan assigned Han to bring you drinks in order not to leave you alone even for a second, Chan authorized your second drink but discreetly after the second one you kept telling him if he could bring you another one, and another and another one. You tried different drinks which was not the best idea, in combination with the strong lights on your face, making you even more dizzy.

Chan was looking at you funny from afar, watching you having a good time with Felix and Han as he was a bit shy to join the dance floor, but suddenly, his tender look changed completely when he saw a complete stranger approaching you again, slyly wanting to dance with you, sticking to your body, you were already slightly confused enough that you thought the guy was just another friend of Chan, but Chan acted fast and didn't let him get close to you at all, or rather, touch you.

Chan wasn't the kind of guy who blamed the way you dressed… but it was inevitable to deny that your short and tight dress with that cleavage could arouse something in more people and he hated it, he was jealous that more people were seeing you, that some are doing it with such a dirty look, lusting after you.

“Chaaan” you said animatedly, obviously a little drunk, with the alcohol having more and more effect on you.

Seeing Chan under the dizziness brought on by the alcohol was like a dream, as if he only existed, you were liking it strangely.

He noticed your condition, he thought for a second that you looked so cute, so free and loose, with an expression of happiness on your face that he hadn't seen before… but he knew exactly that it was because you were under the effects of alcohol.

You stood in front of him, trying to dance, not reasoning exactly what you were doing, just standing there, feeling somehow pleasantly light-headed, something you had never felt before.

“I think someone's had too much to drink already. How much have you had to drink? We should go home” he mentioned seriously.

One of the reasons he was serious was that he found no amusement when you were being devoured by the gaze of more men.

“What, you're not going to dance? Why don't you teach me how to do it?”

You pouted, Chan was just standing somewhat stiffly in the middle of the dance floor. He shook his head softly.

“You still don't want to go home?” he said.

You had no notion of time. You didn't answer, when another guy didn't respect that you were together, heading towards you.

“Hey, cutie, can I get your insta?”

Chan opened his wide, confused by the situation. You looked at the guy without knowing who he was or understanding what he said, but Chan stepped forward to say.

“No, she can't, she's with me, go away.”

Chan didn't know what to say, he was so upset for the moment with his heart racing from so many emotions in a short time because of you.

The guy left and you smiled at Chan, laughing softly as if you had been told a joke, this time hugging him and raising your eyes to see him, in such a perfect position to kiss him, the reality was you were losing your balance and wanted to hold on to something, but somehow he was surprised by your act and swallowed nervously, acting as shy as if you had never touched each other before, however, he wrapped his arms around your waist and let them rest on your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

“You keep saying that…” you began to slur your words.

“What?” he said softly, lost in you, aware that you might not have heard him.

“She's with me” you mimicked his serious tone, in a playful way, ”Am I with you, Chan…? Why haven't you made it clear to me all week? You haven't kissed me again, don't you want to?”

He looked at you puzzled, thinking that just now you must be too drunk to start saying such things, but at the same time, he was aware of your honesty. Chan questioned feeling pathetic if you waited all those days for him to make the first move.

“Y/n…” he was about to come clean with you, even though you were drunk, but you interrupted him.

The magical moment existed only for him.

“Aren't you going to dance? Dance with me or I'll dance with Felix.”

Chan felt stupidly in love and took care of you, you started to dance tenderly and he let himself go.

After minutes, an amused Felix approached his friend to say:

“She asked me how to make a boy jealous.”

You heard him and blushed, remembering that you had told him that when you were still sober and wanted to make Chan jealous so he would approach you on the dance floor and not leave you alone. Besides you wanted to see him upset again, since you thought his expression was so fucking hot a few moments ago, you had to admit it.

“Felix” you reproached him.

The blond walked away laughing, only provoking you both.

“So you want to make someone jealous, huh?” Chan said in a harsh voice close to your ear as he held you by the waist.

Your little moment of alcohol fun was gone, now it was a different kind of fun as you were sobering up, the memory of you dancing so Chan could approach you was humiliating that lowered your drunkenness, but somehow the plan worked as a guy approached you and he came to you almost running.

“Who did you want to make jealous, huh babygirl?”

You didn't respond, you were paralyzed at his touch, shyness taking over you again. Chan's ego grew knowing you wanted to come up with something to make him jealous.

“I'll show you” he said speaking seductively, “You have to show the other guy that he must come to claim what is his, so you will provoke him, being so loose and feeling yourself, like you don't care about anything else and letting yourself go” Chan turned your body with ease, “And dance like the other person doesn't exist, do it, tease them both and win.”

Now you couldn't move, you were processing the alcohol leaving your system and having Chan in such a sexy way.

“Dance” he ordered softly.

You tried to move, he grabbed your waist again and pressed you to your body, you could feel the rubbing of both bodies, little by little you let yourself go until you ground such a strategic area on him and making him aroused.

Chan couldn't take it anymore, your adjusted ass in that dress, rubbing on his cock… he didn't know at what point he achieved that, but he just knew he was fucking turned on right now. You noticed his bulge, bit your lip and turned abruptly to see him with a twinge of arousal in your pussy, you both had enough of the party now, it was time to take the fun somewhere else more private.

“Chan. Can we. Leave?” you spoke, shyly watching him with wide eyes.

He nodded in relief as his erection was only growing.

Chan awkwardly said goodbye to his friends, trying to hide his erection and finally you both walked to his car, which you got into and Chan started off not knowing exactly where to go, but he did know he needed you just now, taking care of him because his cock was hurting more and more and your apartment was farther away than his home…

You too were with an excitement growing in your body, but you didn't know how to communicate it.

Chan didn't resist and acted:

“Mmm well, there's no one at my place, all the guys are still at the club, do you want to go?”

He was desperate and his house was only 8 minutes away from the club. And he could also easily tell how much you wanted him too.

You nodded nervously, waiting for him to touch you again and slyly saw his big bulge. You almost sighed, thinking how much you wanted to sit on him again and move on it.

You tried to bring up a gentle topic of conversation, making both of you hold out all the way to his house and not let him touch you right there in the car. You asked little questions about which of his friends was the most likely to leave the club early but your voice only made Chan's poor swollen cock twitch and cry, his poor tip weeping drops of precum living off the fantasy of being able to have you again.

You were wet, it was enough for you to watch his handsome figure drive, his big hands squeeze the steering wheel, you were both to some extent comically aroused, filling the car with sighs and frustration until you finally reached your destination.

You knew Chan was excited, but you found it so hard to make the first bold and daring move that you only limited yourself to saying once you were inside and surveyed the place:

“Wow, it looks pretty neat for a boys-only house.”

Chan laughed. With his cock hard, amazed that you were back to being the same tender, shy girl, pretending he didn't have a big bulge between his pants that only indicated one thing.

“Mmm, and my room is even tidier, let's go see it.”

He unexpectedly took you by the hand, leading you up the stairs and into his room. You were stunned and excited, you knew exactly what was in store for you.

His whole room was in perfect order, it smelled nice and you suddenly felt your body warm knowing you were now in his space.

“Nice” you said.

Chan looked at you for a few seconds, an incredulous smile on his face. You were still there, excited but not coming any closer.

“You need to stop being so shy” he confessed, stepping in front of you, finally taking the initiative, “And start telling me exactly what you're thinking about. Do you want this?”

He grabbed your waist, pulling your body closer to his, feeling his erection against you. You nodded and your innocence only succeeded in making him harder. He began to caress your ass and your whole body sensually.

“And why don't you say it?” he spoke again.

You bit your lip, thinking about the right words, you were only thinking about how much you would want him to fuck you, but saying it so explicitly wasn't your thing, not even telling someone you want them to fuck you.

“Chan… you can, you know…”

He laughed softly, leaning down to take your lips sweetly, enjoying and savoring since he hadn't kissed you in long days, because he'd wanted to for a long time in every way possible. You closed your eyes, pleasantly surprised and lost in him.

“You know…” he spoke close to your lips, his nose brushing against yours, “It's not just about sex, I really want to take you on dates and get to know you if you'll let me.”

You were entranced in him. Unable to process any information very well, other than his name in your head over and over again.

“Okay” you whispered and he caught your lips again, “Let's go out…” you whispered.

The truth was you couldn't have been more excited by his comment. It was everything you wanted to hear and everything you wanted to do about to happen, he had it all.

Chan grabbed your face, glad to be on the same page and this time the kiss was getting more passionate and desperate, suddenly he had left maturity behind and being a young and horny mess, thinking about how much he wanted to satisfy his cock already. He began to touch you, thrusting his tongue into your mouth, teasing you slightly hard against your lips. His naughty fingers went all the way to your center, eager to feel you, to know you were feeling what he was feeling.

It was more than obvious, your little panties were wet with just the manly presence of Bang Chan, to know what he was capable of and how he could treat you, you were with your heart racing and your mind working quickly in all the dirty and delicious scenarios, both of you needed each other already in desperation.

Chan almost moaned between kisses as he slipped his hand under your dress and pulled the fabric of your pussy aside and felt the softness of your womanhood, so docile and manipulable in his fingers, your sensitive, throbbing clit ready for his touch, your snug labia in your folds, Chan fantasized so much about you, about the feel of his cock buried in your core, of your mouth on his shaft, of the ways he wanted to settle your body into sex, everything, but right now he was so needy that he even wanted to act like a hormonal college boy who would only seek his own pleasure by sticking his cock in you, but no, he wasn't like that.

His long finger found the perfect way to stimulate your clit by pressing it and gently circling it while the rest of his fingers slowly lost themselves in your folds. You were about to lose your balance as you were extremely sensitive down there, eager for attention. Chan lowered his kisses to your neck inhaling your scent, hypnotized on your skin, he couldn't take any more, he was so stimulated with his cock throbbing in desperation.

“Fuck, baby, are you ready now? I need to fuck you now” he whispered almost babbling into your neck in an indescribable tone of voice, he was so excited that his deep voice made you shudder.

Chan sought your entrance, gently inserting his finger to check exactly what he needed, that you were wet, ready to take his cock at last. You moaned, his finger was teasing shallowly inside you, spreading your fluid, you got nervous again, you wanted to enjoy it and do it right for Chan, there were so many things you had to be the best at without having any experience, you hated not being the best at everything.

He noticed your tense body and worried expression.

“It's okay baby, relax, I'll make you feel good.”

You looked into his eyes, this time with two fingers inside you, deep and exploring your insides, you moaned in pleasure and pain, it was such a new and delightful surprise, and you wanted to let go of the fact that you were obviously so inexperienced. Chan felt his fingers being squeezed inside you, driving him crazy with the idea of how his hard cock was going to feel in you.

“Oh fuck, do you want me to do it now or do you want me to eat you again, baby girl?”

His indirectly direct questions shocked your excited, needy, inexperienced body as if he wasn't fucking you with his fingers just now. You lowered your gaze to his pants, thinking of all the time he may have had to hold back, thinking of how intimidatingly big and appetizing he looked, thinking of the sensation of feeling full.

“Do it, Chan, please, I need it.”

His fingers worked magically on you, but fantasizing about the idea of feeling even fuller wouldn't leave your head.

Chan smiled haughtily and began unbuttoning his pants desperately with his free hand.

“Pull them down, princess” he ordered you, pointing his head down.

You saw him and then at his open pants, your pussy throbbed again and you quickly obeyed him, exposing his vulnerable hard cock.

“Mm baby, touch it, feel how hard I am for you” Chan teased you.

He saw your slightly shocked expression at the sight of his erect member and you tentatively took his cock in your hands, not sure what to do but out of curiosity and desire you felt every inch of him, confirming his stiffness, feeling a boy's cock for the first time.

You began to masturbate him, running your hands over the thin, rigid skin of his penis, pushing Chan to the limit. He couldn't take it anymore, he would either fuck you or cum in your hand, it was time to act.

Chan removed his fingers from you, he deftly and easily turned you around, slowly pulling your panties down, he was so eager and ready to do it, to fuck you and have you all to himself.

You trembled softly in nervousness sure of what awaited you, not sure of the new sensation, but you were desperate in pleasure, you needed him, filling you, you wanted him for completeness in you. Chan hurried, quickly taking a condom from his nightstand right off his bed, putting it on with agility, as you witnessed the latex slipping down his length, awakening in you more impatience and a great sexual desire, finally he returned to you.

You looked at yourself in the full length mirror in front of, your panties down, your expression with ruddy cheeks, waiting for him to approach.

“Are you okay here, baby? Or do you want to do it on the bed… because honestly I want to fuck you while I see your pretty face in the mirror, huh” Chan said in a deep voice, standing behind you and holding your cheeks tightly with his hand.

You watched him from the mirror, his position behind you… he looked so fucking good, thinking you wanted to witness him too.

“It's okay like that, Ch-chan.”

“Good girl” he gasped, unable to resist any longer.

Chan lifted your dress, exposing your ass, massaged it, admiring it for a moment and then placed his hand on your lower back gently pushing you, indicating you to bend over a little, Chan held you by your belly with his left hand while with his right he took his cock, lining it up with your entrance and slowly inserting it, making him suck air between his teeth and moan audibly in relief, you squealed, resenting the incredible and timely change in your anatomy, of his cock sliding inside you and settling into your walls, you were going crazy with every inch he entered at the same time Chan was losing his mind at the sensation of your tightness.

Chan watched the erotic act of your entrance open up for his cock, then saw your sweet expression in his mirror as he babbled softly, “There you go, there you go, baby girl, gooood girl, it's almost all in, god you're taking it so well, you feel so good, fuck, please.”

You both whimpered as he was already deep in you, filling you up, pounding your cervix, but the fun was just beginning, Chan took you by the hips and started to penetrate you slowly and deeply to get you used to his size, then he stretched your body, to stick your back to his chest and started to ram you quickly, crashing against your skin, lost with the feeling of his cock in your walls, your moans and the expression of disaster on your face, so flustered.

Chan continued to pound your pussy until he was breathless, the sensation for both of you was magical, both of you suddenly seeing stars as he kept babbling things in your ear. He loved every second of your face being fucked hard, Chan wanted to have the image of you etched in his mind forever. And your dress suddenly became tighter, you were exasperated by the moment, looking for a release, looking for that culmination of your pleasure that was taking over every inch of you.

You dared to look at yourself in his mirror, Chan was so focused on making you feel good, collapsing his skin with yours, filling every corner of you until you were delightfully sore. He looked so good in that position, you thought, taking you and fucking you hard, both bodies struggling between moans and gasps, culminating in orgasm. You felt a huge knot in your stomach and an uncontrollable tide of emotions at the same time.

You were deliciously wrecked, tired and Chan sweetly offered to let you sleep right after the act. He was happy to finally make the move.

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