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kpopfanfictrash · 11 months ago

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The Ten Days of Ex-Mas (M) (Pt. 2)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Holiday / Second Chance!AU / Hockey!AU

Pairing: Jimin / Reader (F)

Synopsis: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Word Count: 44,416 (19K in part 2)

Author’s Note: Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @yoonia, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora! Unfortunately, due to the new Tumblr text post limitations, this has to be published as multiple parts. THIS IS NOT THE START OF THE STORY. Please read Part 1 first, here.

Rating: 18+

NSFW Warnings: oral (F), multiple orgasms (F), fingering, sex in a semi-public area (brief), breast play, spanking, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, mention of toys

A/N: all collab fics incorporate the phrase, "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."

A/N: This is not part 1. Read part 1 here.

“Jimin!” Hana cries, plowing into his legs. “Y/N! We’re skates!”

Lifting your brows, you crouch to boop her red pom-pom hat. “Of course, you are!” you say. When Hana runs off, you stand and lean closer. “Do you think she meant they have skates, or that we’re pretending to be them?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Jimin chuckles, taking your hand to cross the street.

You seem surprised but continue, falling into step alongside him. If pressed, Jimin could say he’s holding your hand because you’re around his family but truthfully, that’s not why. He’s holding your hand because he hasn’t touched you for twelve hours, crumbling something vital deep in his chest.

Jimin’s mom waves you over to where they’ve occupied several benches. “Welcome,” she says, gesturing to the group. “The girls picked out skates for everyone – correct sizes, of course.”

Stifling a laugh, Jimin looks at the skates. Of course, the twins picked them out since they’ve chosen only the most ridiculous concepts. Each year, a main Garland attraction is the infamous holiday ice skates. Imagine a Christmas staple, and there’s an ice skate for it. Snowmen skates wait for Jimin, complete with tiny carrot noses.

“How did you know my favorites,” you gasp, bending to reach for your candy cane skates.

“Cuz we’re smart!” Ari yells, wriggling free of Hoseok’s arms.

Jisoo grabs her by the waist, picking her up to sit down on a bench. Jimin takes you by the hand again, leading you to a semi-secluded bench. Glancing over your shoulder, you watch as he drags you away from his family.

“Sit,” Jimin demands, and your eyes widen.

Somewhat flustered, you obey. “Jimin,” you hiss when he kneels before you. “No one is watching us. You don’t have to…”

He lifts a brow. “I don’t have to do anything, Y/N.”

You fall silent when he begins unlacing your boots, setting them aside on the cold ground. Jimin doesn’t miss the way you shiver when his hand curls around your ankle, nor the look on your face when he scoots even closer.

“Jimin…”

Flashing a wicked smile, he looks up. “Yes?”

A lump moves in your throat when you swallow. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Brows lifted, Jimin leans forward, pressing his shoulder against your inner knee. He begins tying the laces, taking his time to savor the closeness. By the time he’s finished, you’re glowering darkly.

“Up,” you demand, switching places.

Jimin shouldn’t be turned on by how easily you walk in skates, nor by the bossy edge to your voice as you kneel.

“Is this what you wanted?” you ask, your gaze burning. Placing both hands on his knees, you lean forward. “To tease me?”

“Tease you?” Jimin looks you up and down. “Right now, I feel like the victim here.”

Pushing yourself to stand, you nudge him with your foot. “You can put on your own skates, Park. Last I checked, you got paid to do this for a living.”

“Usually, they pay me to play in the skates. Not just look pretty.”

Your lips tilt. “Are you calling yourself pretty?”

Wordless, Jimin tosses his hair as he stands from the bench. Eyes wide, you realize your gaze drops to his skates, already tied. Leaning in, Jimin brushes your arm with his palm.

“That depends,” he says lowly. “What do you think?”

Your gaze focuses on him. “Your looks haven’t changed that much since September, Park.”

His eyes darken. “Stop calling me that.”

“What – Park?”

Brows lowered, Jimin steps closer. “You sound like you’re about to scold me.”

You snort. “Scold you? Who do you think I am?”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“What even is the subject?”

“What about my looks has changed since September?”

You pause to survey him. “You… well. Your hair,” you admit.

Uncertain, Jimin reaches up to touch it. “My hair?”

“Yeah.” You nod, transfixed by his fingers. “It’s longer. It–” Cutting yourself off, your lips press together. “It looks nice, that’s all.”

Jimin hovers a second, wishing you’d continue but the moment is interrupted by your names being called. Turning his head, he spots Jisoo and Hoseok stepping onto the ice. Hoseok has both of Ari’s hands, while Jisoo has Hana.

Heart dropping, Jimin pieces two and two together. When you arrived on Thursday, the oddest expression crossed over your face at the twins. And later, while making cookies, you often were silent. Jimin chalked this up to the strangeness of your arrangement, but only now realizes the full implication. Ari and Hana must remind you of the false pregnancy, and the events which came after.

On instinct, Jimin takes your hand again. You glance down, surprised, but Jimin is already walking, pulling you with.

Although you stumble a little, you follow. “How do you walk in these things every day?” you demand, gesturing vaguely.

“We usually wear them on ice, not the sidewalk.”

“Hilarious.”

Arriving at the rink, Jimin removes his skate guards and holds out a hand. Handing them off to his mom, Jimin opens the gate to step onto the ice.

For a moment, the world fades. This is the reason he plummeted when he wasn’t sure if he could skate again. This feeling, this rush of freedom – Jimin has felt it on the ice ever since he can remember. Your hand is grounding, keeping him steady through the inner turmoil. Taking a deep breath, Jimin pushes off on one skate to bring you with.

Across the rink, Hoseok and Jisoo lead their daughters around. Seeing them, Jimin can’t help but smile. Jisoo was raised on the rink and can skate circles around most of their friend group.

“They’re so cute,” you sigh, following his gaze.

“Who? Jisoo and Hoseok?”

“I mean, sure,” you laugh, eyes crinkling. “But I was talking about Hana and Ari. No matter what your dad says, Hana is definitely going pro.”

Jimin sees a moment of realization cross your face. A few months ago, the idea of his dad disapproving would have crippled him. Now, Jimin feels sad, but he knows he’ll get through it.

Tightening his grip, he moves closer. “Want to know a secret?” Jimin says, skating backwards to face you. Both your hands end in his, letting him pull you.

“Obviously.”

Jimin grins, spinning you in a circle. “I got her lessons for Christmas with my old teacher. Just for fun, but I think she’ll enjoy it.”

“She absolutely will,” you say, smiling so wide, Jimin’s heart hurts. “Speaking of…”

Turning his head, Jimin spots Hoseok skate past with Ari. They wave as they go, Ari’s scarf flapping in the wind.

“So slow!” Hoseok calls, as Ari laughs. “Seems like that NHL thing really was a fluke, Park…”

Jimin’s brows lower, enough that you laugh and let go of his hand. “Go on,” you tease, skating backwards. “Catch up to them.”

His gaze lingers on you as you leave, watching you glide across the rink with ease. Turning around, you weave between patrons as the ends of your scarf flutter behind you. Jimin remembers the first time he brought you home for the holidays. Until then, you’d given him nothing but a hard time with his hockey fame. Pretending not to know the rules, the players or even the sport – although he often caught you Googling what certain terms meant.

The first time you came home, Jimin’s parents were the ones who suggested ice skating. Jimin was hesitant, thinking you didn’t know how, but once you stepped onto the rink, his jaw dropped. Although you aren’t a professional, you took lessons as a kid and somehow maintained your graceful ease. Somewhat embarrassingly, that was the morning he caved and broke his no-sex-in-the-childhood-home rule.

Body tightening, Jimin locks in on you as you skate away. Similar to seeing you wearing a new cosplay, watching you skate circles is enough to draw blood to a very specific part of his body. Pushing off with one foot, Jimin starts slowly around the edge of the rink. Several heads turn, but he ignores them entirely. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice him watching and laugh, purposefully crouching to gain momentum.

Lips twitching, Jimin adopts a similar stance and goes faster. He barely outpaces his slowest round at practice, but that’s fine. To everyone else, Jimin is practically flying. As one of the shortest players in the NHL, Jimin makes up for what he lacks in stride with his speed. Offensive positions require agility, something which happens to be his main strength. Wind cuts his face as Jimin makes a turn that would send lesser skaters sprawling.

Leisurely, he approaches you from the opposite side. Glancing over your shoulder, you frown, losing visibility.

“Gotcha,” Jimin says, grabbing around your waist to speak in your ear.

You yelp, twisting around to avoid tangling skates. “No fair,” you laugh, still in his arms. “You’re a professional. You cheated!”

“Which one is it, princess?” he teases, prompting a startled breath.

Licking your lower lip, you glance sideways and Jimin feels his body lock. Continuing to skate with his arms wrapped around you, he can barely decipher his train of thought. You face forward quickly, but not fast enough – Jimin knows that look. Your pupils are dilated, eyes wide with lips slightly parted. That look connects with his lower half in a way that makes skating distinctly uncomfortable.

“You can’t call me that,” you say under your breath.

Despite this, your hand tightens in his, not letting him go.

Jimin leans closer. “Call you what?”

“Any name other than the one chosen at birth.”

“Oh, I see. So, if I say Y/N.” Jimin dips his tone. “That’s fine?”

He feels your shiver, sliding his thumb along the side of your palm, and–

“Y/N!”

You start, jerking upright when Hana skates by holding onto Jisoo. Jimin falls behind you, somewhat embarrassed he let things go so far. As much as he wants to call you princess and get you to admit that you want him – he wants more than simply desire. Something like that happening would only muddy the waters.

Ari skates past as well, begging you to join, which you do with a dutiful nod. Jimin watches you go, skating to the edge of the rink and stepping outside. Pulling on guards, he clomps towards the hot chocolate stand to buy you a cup. While he waits, a familiar hat sidles up alongside him.

“Hi, mom,” he says, smiling downward.

Jimin’s mom wraps an arm around his waist and squeezes. A lump forms in Jimin’s throat, one he manages to swallow. The past year has been hard, forcing tough conversations to be held over the phone. Worse than losing his health, Jimin felt that he lost the support of his family.

“You two looked good out there,” his mom says, moving up in line.

Jimin lifts a brow. His mom never says something she doesn’t mean – a fact that he envies. Bringing your relationship up means she has something to say.

“Thanks,” he says, waiting for the rest.

“I hope we didn’t make you or Y/N uncomfortable last night. You know the last thing your father and I want is to pressure you.”

Shaking his head, Jimin moves forward. “You didn’t – don’t worry.”

“Mm.” Her lips thin. “What were you doing, going out late with Hoseok?”

Jimin’s eyes widen. Shit. Exactly like his mom, to lead with something soft, then go for the kill. A hockey strategy Jimin has employed often, with great success.

“We… I, uh…”

His mom pats him on the arm. “Every couple has their difficulties, Jimin. I’m not going to pretend every obstacle is surmountable – only you can decide that – but running away will solve nothing.”

Stunned by her accuracy, Jimin shakes his head. “I thought she wanted space,” he admits. This much, at least, is true.

“Space is good,” she agrees. “But only when asked for.”

The couple before them in line finishes paying and leaves. Somewhat dazed, Jimin moves up and orders three hot chocolates. Stepping aside to wait, Jimin turns to face his mom.

“That’s good advice,” he says slowly.

“I know.” She smiles. “That wasn’t what I wanted to talk about, though.”

Jimin lifts a brow. “No? Could’ve fooled me.”

She laughs. “No,” she admits, linking arms. “I wanted to check in on you, dear. You’ve seemed a little… well, off lately. It’s been a while since we last talked.”

Jimin can hear her concern, the utmost care she’s taking in having this conversation. His heart aches, knowing she must have rehearsed this talk often. Truthfully, Jimin didn’t mean to pull away from his family. It became almost second nature to avoid having an argument.

“Well,” Jimin says. “This season has been tough. I wasn’t sure how it’d be… being back on the ice. And I didn’t think you or dad would want to hear about that.”

Gripping his elbow, his mom turns him to face her. Her gaze has turned serious, an indent between her brows. “Jimin. I always want to hear about your day. Okay?”

He blinks several times.

“I’m sorry,” she exhales. “I know I wasn’t… I was scared, seeing you so badly injured last year.”

Jimin presses his lips together. “I know.”

“But,” she adds, fierce light to her gaze. “That’s not an excuse for making you feel this way. Your career will always scare us, Jimin.” She holds up a hand at the look on his face. “No, I want to be truthful. Your career will always scare us, but darling, I’ve watched you skate since you were three years old. I see your face on the ice. I’m sorry for asking you to give that up. It was selfish.”

Something rent apart mends in his chest. Before Jimin can respond, three hot chocolates are placed on the counter. Smiling, his mom accepts one and hands him the rest.

“Don’t feel like you have to say anything back,” she chides, guiding him towards the rink. “I only wanted to make sure you knew.”

“No – no.” Jimin shakes his head. “I’m trying more often to express how I feel. Mom… the way you and dad acted hurt me. For a while, it felt like everyone in the world was against me, and I didn’t know how to convince them. Or myself.”

His mom blinks several times. “I understand that,” she says quietly. “And I’m sorry, dear. I’m here for you, whatever you decide – I promise.”

“And dad?”

Lips twisting, she glances across the rink, where his dad sits on a bench. Not skating, simply watching Hana and Ari be towed around. Seeing this, Jimin understands what she means. His dad still has a long way to go.

“It’s okay, mom,” he murmurs.

She frowns. “No, it’s not. But he’ll come around, Jimin – I know it.”

“Yeah.” Releasing his breath, Jimin looks across the rink and catches your eye.

You grin widely, hand in hand with Ari as Jimin smiles. Something Dr. Nygard once said comes to mind. He told Jimin it was normal to want the attention of others, but it wasn’t healthy to shape one’s entire reality from it. For a long time, Jimin only believed he was good if other people said so. Only thought he could want something when other people agreed.

The moment you asked if you could take a break, all Jimin heard was you didn’t want him. Rather than stay and fight for what he believed in, he left and now, it’s up to him to convince you things are different. Being without you cast things in perspective. No – Jimin doesn’t need your approval to live the life he wants.

But the life he wants to live has you in it.

“I can’t believe you didn’t bring pain meds this weekend,” you huff, digging around in the endless void you call a purse.

Sheepish, Jimin shrugs. “My tailbone felt better. And then, I don’t know… sitting for hours on a flight didn’t help.”

Stunned, you glance upward. “You’ve been hurt since the flight, Jimin?” you ask, failing to keep your anger in check. “Why are you only telling me now?”

Amused, he crosses both arms. “Y/N,” Jimin tsks. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you cared.”

Simultaneously annoyed and aroused, your gaze darts towards your purse. Yanking free a bottle of ibuprofen, you shake out two pills. “Here,” you insist, thrusting them forward. “Take these and be quiet.”

Partly, your dismay stems from this being your fault. Jimin mentioned he was injured outside the house, but you were too mad to hear and made him sleep on the couch. And now, you’ll be the reason for Chicago’s losing streak. You can already hear the disparaging Twitter comments.

“Be quiet.” Jimin accepts the pills to throw them back, dry. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You stare, horrified. “That’s disgusting.”

“You get used to it.”

“Nope,” you say as you turn away. “I don’t think I would.”

Jimin chuckles from behind, catching up when you push open the door to the shop. Once everyone had their fill of ice-skating, you went with Jimin’s family to a lovely place for lunch. Afterwards, everyone broke into pairs for late Christmas shopping. It seems everyone is missing one gift or another, resulting in a need for covert alliances. Jisoo went off with her mom, while Hoseok went off with their dad and the twins.

The fact that you ended up alone with Jimin hasn’t escaped you. Briefly, you wondered if Jimin’s mom was behind this to give you some privacy but banished the notion. If this were the case, she likely would have just said so. The thought makes your face heat as you enter the shop.

Things today have been… different when it comes to Jimin. First, there was his apology in the car and then, the whole skate-tying incident. Merely the memory makes you shiver, recalling the feel of his hand on your ankle. Not to mention his cryptic phrasing, insisting he should have stayed – last night. Or possibly more.

Frustrated, you glance around the stationary shop. For once, you wish Jimin would just say what he means. Then again, you suppose two can play at that game. You weren’t exactly honest when you asked for a break.

Covertly, you glance sideways and find Jimin’s cheeks reddened. Infuriatingly, he looks even better than the day before. Darkly, you wonder if he sold his soul to a witch or is involved in some sort of Dorian Gray situation.

Turning around, Jimin catches you staring. “What are you thinking?” he asks, moving closer.

Rather than fan his ego, you ask something that’s been bothering you the past hour. “I saw you talking to your mom at the hot chocolate stand. What was that about?”

Jimin stiffens slightly, and you stifle a sigh.

Six months prior, Jimin would have brushed aside the question. In the spring, when his arguments with his dad were at their worst, you tried to distract him, but nothing succeeded. Jimin didn’t want to talk about anything, but in every conversation, his mind was elsewhere. You shouldn’t be surprised this is still true but somehow, you hoped.

“Hockey,” Jimin answers, and your face jerks up. “My mom said she was always going to worry about me playing, but she apologized for asking me to give it up. I think…” He pauses. “She may have been giving me her blessing to re-sign? Not that I need it,” he adds, a bit thoughtful.

“Jimin,” you gasp. “That’s amazing!”

“I know, right?” He smiles. “There’s still my dad, but it means so much to me that she said that. And… I mean, I can’t wait around for them to approve of everything, can I? I need to do what’s best for myself.”

Slowly, you nod. “You do.”

He meets your gaze. “I wanted to thank you, actually.”

“Thank me?”

“Yeah. You told me that, and I didn’t agree. I just… I wasn’t ready to hear it. In a way, when you left, it forced me to examine some hard truths about myself.”

Again, your heart sinks. You’re glad Jimin has his therapist and they’re helping to change his outlook. On the other hand, it sounds as though your leaving was an uptick in his life.

“Ah,” you say faintly. “I see.”

Jimin cocks his head. “When you said you wanted a break, all I heard was that the last person to believe in me no longer did. I know that’s not fair,” he adds, seeing your face. “But that’s how I felt. It was easier to fall, to hit rock bottom… than to pull myself out.”

You consider this – and him – for a long moment. In September, you really weren’t in a position to listen. The rapid elation and depression of thinking you were pregnant, coupled with fear from a year of anxiety, resulted in a potentially harmful reaction. Jimin deserved more than what you gave.

“I shouldn’t have come to you like that,” you say quietly. “It wasn’t fair of me to just… spring that on you without explanation. I should have asked you to talk. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you, thinking I wouldn’t listen.”

“Maybe,” you say. “If I could go back though, I’d do things differently.”

“Me, too.”

For a while, you stand there and let the words sink in. Frequently since the break-up, you imagined what it would be like to see Jimin again. You wondered if he’d be angry, whether he’d ignore you or cast blame for what happened. Rarely did you imagine he’d apologize, or that he’d taken steps to address what happened this fall.

And maybe that was another mistake you both made – assuming the other person couldn’t change or wouldn’t want to.

Then, another thought occurs that makes your heart sink. Jimin’s mom is fine with him extending his contract. The entire reason you came here was to lessen the difficulty of two pieces of bad news at once. With one in the open, it’s not necessary to continue the charade.

For a moment, you debate whether to say something and instead, you turn smoothly and pluck a card from the pile.

“Look at this one,” you say, holding it up to the light. “Do you think Ari would like it?”

Glancing at this, Jimin tilts his head. The card is covered in glitter, to the point where the pictures and words are rendered obsolete.

“I think it’s perfect,” he says with a laugh. “Look, there’s another glitter one for Hana.”

Selecting them both, you head for the cashier. Jimin diverts to check out a large stack of board games in the back for his uncle.

“You check out,” he says, waving you onward. “I’ll meet you at the register in a minute.”

“All right,” you say, turning away.

Bypassing the colorful pens near the register, you place both cards on the counter. “Can I have a bag?” you ask as they ring you up.

The cashier nods, setting to work and you drum your finger against the counter. Outside, it’s started snowing. You can’t help but smile since it never seems to stop snowing in Garland for long. Hopefully, everything will clear up for tomorrow’s Christmas Eve party. Jimin’s family never misses, barring illness or high water.

Behind you, the bells above the door chime.

“Y/N?” A familiar – deeply grating – makes you go stiff. “Is that you? Oh my gosh!”

Smile frozen, you slowly turn. Vivian Wu shuts the door with one hand, casually unwinding a red scarf from her neck. Her hair is luscious and sleek, billowing over her perfect pea coat. When she walks towards the register, you notice cashmere gloves and boots that seem untouched by the salt on the roads.

Continuing to force a smile, you nod. “Hi, Vivian,” you say. “Yep, it’s me. Y/N.”

Coming to a stop, Vivian tilts her head. As the daughter of the former mayor and a politician herself, she’s practically royalty in a small town like Garland. Vivian also happens to be Jimin’s ex-girlfriend, dating him for three years in high school before they broke up when he was drafted. A fact Vivian never really accepted.

Her smile turns simpering. “How nice to see you,” she says, her tone suggesting the opposite. “Are you visiting the Parks for the holidays?”

You nod, suddenly glad for the charade. “Jimin and I are only here for a few days, unfortunately. Are you attending the Christmas Eve party tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. The Parks are such a wonderful family. It’s a shame you only get to see them once a year.”

Although your stomach twists, you remind yourself it’s not worth it. Vivian only acts this way because she’s not dating Jimin – but then again, neither are you. Your heart sinks, realizing you might be looking at your future. Vivian will be thrilled to discover you’re no longer together. You never learned why she disliked you, only that she’s the only other girl Jimin dated seriously.

Your very first visit, you were introduced to her at the Christmas Eve party. Jimin warned you his ex-girlfriend would be there but failed to mention how beautiful – and vindictive – she was. Apparently, the break-up was Jimin’s idea and Vivian loathed having a total loss of control.

That night ended in a harried fight between you and Jimin, becoming the first time he ever said he loved you. Remembering that night, you can’t help but smile – a gesture that widens when Vivian scowls.

“It’s a shame,” you sigh. “I’m sure they appreciate having you looking out for them, though.”

Vivian sniffs, unable to find the insult. “Of course. Anything for Jimin. Speaking of” – she leans in, her Chanel perfume tickling your nose – “I’ve been watching his games and haven’t seen you lately? Is everything okay?”

You instantly stiffen. Despite what you told Jimin, you genuinely hadn’t thought many people would notice. Of course, Vivian did.

“No,” you say sweetly. “Just busy with work.”

“That’s a shame,” she says, her voice implying that, if it were her, Vivian would make herself available, no matter the cost.

You can’t help but bristle, though the scenario is moot. Neither of you are dating Jimin, so there’s nothing to compare. Still, even when you were together, Jimin never expected you to attend every game. That was his job, not yours, he would joke all the time. Both of you were adults with careers.

Tossing her hair, Vivian nods at your hand. “And I’m surprised, Y/N – no ring? Jisoo and Hoseok got engaged after what, two years? And you’ve been dating Jimin for…?”

“Four years,” you say stiffly.

“That’s right.” Her frown deepens. “Four.”

Your tongue is in danger of bleeding from how hard you bite. Vivian’s words have little to do with you, and more to do with the circumstances, but you can’t help but feel frustrated. And hurt.

Smoothly, an arm slides around your waist. “There you are,” murmurs Jimin, pulling you close. He brushes a kiss to your hair, glancing at Vivian. “You can blame that on me, Viv,” he says easily. “Haven’t found the perfect ring yet. None big enough. Or expensive enough.”

Your lips twitch. “Exactly,” you sigh, laying a hand on his chest. “He keeps proposing and I keep saying, ‘nope, try again.’”

Jimin chuckles, nuzzling into your hair. Vivian glances between you, looking vaguely nauseated. You can’t say you blame her.

“How nice,” she mutters.

“Anyways.” Glancing around, Jimin grabs your bag from the counter. “We really should get going. It was nice seeing you, Vivian.”

“You, too,” she huffs, brushing past to the board games.

As soon as she’s gone, your smile drops. “Thanks,” you exhale, slipping out from his arm. “I… well, I wasn’t sure what to say to her.”

Jimin catches you around the wrist.

You hesitate a long moment, then turn. Two days ago, the rules of the game were clear. No kissing with tongue. Jimin sleeps on the couch. And no need to pretend when no one else is around.

Gaze drifting upwards, you find yourself unable to decipher his expression. Slowly, Jimin pulls you closer to casually fix the scarf around your neck.

“Let’s head home, okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, not trusting yourself to respond to him with words. Outside, on the street, Jimin comes to a stop. Exhaling briskly, he turns sideways to face you.

“I just…”

Dropping your wrist, Jimin shoves a hand through his hair.

“Jimin, it’s okay,” you say, stepping closer. “I don’t blame how she acted – really. Being on the other side, like this…” Lamely, you shrug. “I guess I understand how Vivian feels. That’s all.”

Jimin stares at you, wide-eyed. You think that must be it, and attempt to walk past, but he grabs your wrist again.

“Y/N,” he says sternly. “You are nothing like Vivian. Okay?”

You blink, glancing down at his hand. That’s twice in two minutes he’s touched you like this. Gaze snapping upward, you frown.

“Am I?” you demand. Stepping closer, you stand nearly nose-to-nose. “We’re both your exes, Jimin. I can’t imagine how much it would hurt to watch you parade someone else around town. God, just thinking about you with someone else drives me crazy. I’d be an asshole to future me, too.”

Dipping his head, Jimin inhales. “That’s not going to happen,” he murmurs into your ear. “I wouldn’t be worried about that, if I were you.”

“What does that –”

“Y/N! JIMIN!”

Adorable interruptions seem to be your curse this weekend. Tiny arms crush your knees as, looking down, you find Hana grinning.

Bending, you scoop her onto one hip. “What’s this?” you gasp when she hands you a bag. “Did you buy me a Christmas present all by yourself?”

“Mhm,” she says proudly. “We got you new gloves to wear when you watch Uncle Jimin play.”

Hoseok groans as he arrives. “Girls, that was supposed to be a secret. Remember? Y/N was going to unwrap the gloves on Christmas.”

Ari frowns, tugging on Hoseok’s coat. “But then the present would tell her, not us.”

You can’t help but laugh as Jisoo and her mom walk up behind you.

“What’d we miss?” Jisoo asks, taking Hana.

“Hoseok was explaining the concept of presents,” says Jimin.

“Oh, good. Any success?”

“No,” Hoseok grumbles.

Everyone laughs, and Jimin’s dad flips his keys. “Are we all set?” he asks. “I thought I’d make hot chocolate back at the house.”

“Yeahhh!” yell the twins, immediately taking off.

Snow starts to fall as you leave the town square. More holiday music plays on the drive, and you find yourself dutifully humming along. Despite what you said, there are several noticeable differences between you and Vivian. You might both be his exes, but Jimin only asked one of you home for Christmas.

And only one of you has the opportunity now to make things right.

By Saturday evening, Jimin regrets asking Hoseok for help. He might mean well, but Jimin’s brother-in-law is the least covert person on the face of the planet. Indeed, he’s done more to detract from Jimin’s goal than to add to it. All day, he’s tried to create alone time for you and Jimin with mixed results.

At dinner, Hoseok leaves a chair open next to Jimin – only for Ari to claim it. Afterwards, the family gathers to watch a movie and once again, Hoseok tries to set him up on the sofa. Unfortunately, Hoseok miscounts, and Jisoo is forced to squish between Jimin and the armrest. Little romance can happen sandwiched between you and his sister.

That’s not to say no romance, though. Ever since the stationary store, you seem to have forgotten your rule about physical contact. While watching the Grinch, you curl into Jimin’s side, holding his hand under a mountain of blankets. Jimin strokes his thumb over the back of your hand, trying and failing not to let his mind wander.

He can’t stop thinking about you and Vivian, knowing the situation is his doing. When he broke up with Vivian, he did it over the phone and barely gave her answers to the questions she posed. He didn’t know how to admit that he wasn’t in love, so instead, he made excuses about distance and hockey. It’s no wonder Vivian hovers now, waiting for you to make any misstep.

The thought of you returning to an ex is enough to make Jimin go wild. His arm tenses on the sofa, despite knowing there’s no reason for him to be mad. Still, it’s all he can think about when the movie ends and you get ready for bed. Bringing his stuff down the hall, Jimin lets you use the bathroom within his room.

The door remains shut when he returns, so Jimin busies himself with making the couch comfortable. He’s debating adding a third pillow when the bathroom door opens, and you step outside.

Jimin nearly drops the holiday pillow he holds. Honestly, he should receive awards for his self-control this weekend. Once again, you’ve decided to clothe yourself – or not clothe yourself – in the skimpiest nightgown known to man. Pink lace skims your generous curves, something you seem oblivious of while crossing the room.

Jimin’s jaw clenches. “What time do you want to wake up tomorrow?”

Gaze skipping past him, you land on the sofa. “You’re not seriously planning on sleeping there?” you demand, folding your arms over your chest.

He forces himself not to stare at your delicious cleavage. “This feels like a trick question.”

“Jimin!” You throw up both hands. “You’re injured! I feel bad enough you had to take painkillers this morning.”

“Oh. Well, don’t feel bad,” Jimin says, bending for the pillow.

“Jimin!”

“What?” He half-laughs as he straightens. “There’s only one bed in this room, and my parents would know if you slept anywhere else. This is fine, Y/N.”

Chewing your lower lip, you glance down. “Unless…”

He waits. “Are you offering to sleep on the couch?”

Your gaze snaps upward. “No.”

A tinge of awareness spreads down his spine as Jimin slowly glances between you and the bed. “Are you…” Jimin hesitates, not wanting to break the fragile truce between you. “Are you offering to break rule number one?”

“Technically, you were the one who offered to sleep on the couch,” you point out. “All I said was we didn’t have to pretend while we were alone.”

“Y/N.”

“Alright, fine!” you huff. “I don’t want to sleep in the same bed. But I’m… retracting that rule, for the good of humanity. Only the bed part,” you warn, shifting your weight.

Seeing you slightly flustered wakes a sleeping beast in his chest. Jimin takes a step closer, realizing you’re not immune to his proximity.

“Are you sure?” he asks, coming to a stop. “I don’t want to take advantage of the situation. I can sleep on the couch, Y/N, and be fine. I promise.”

“Oh?” you scoff, turning around. “And have me be blamed for injuring the ‘best offensive player in the NHL?’ No thanks.”

Jimin stares at your retreating backside. “Y/N Y/L/N,” he says, slowly following you towards the bed. “Have you been watching my games on TV?”

Your fingers freeze on the comforter. “I… I’ve seen a few,” you say, evasive as you pull back the sheets. Slipping beneath the covers, you pointedly avoid eye contact.

Unable to contain his grin, Jimin folds his arms. He doesn’t miss the way your gaze darts towards his biceps, lingering longer than is strictly necessary.

“How many?” Jimin demands, moving closer.

Gaze snapping upward, you scowl. “Enough to know you’re doing disgustingly well. And that every person with half a brain has a poster telling you so on the other side of the glass.”

Coming to a stop, his brows sketch upwards. “You’ve seen the posters?”

Jimin has seen the posters but then again, he’s the one stepping onto the ice every night. Some of the content has been downright suggestive, which it seems you know from your perturbed expression. Jimin knows it isn’t healthy to savor your jealousy – on the other hand, he’ll take anything he can get when it comes to you. Jealousy implies there’s something to be jealous of.

“They’re creative,” you mutter. “I’ll give them that.”

Jimin’s grin widens. Crossing to the opposite side, he pulls back the covers. “I’ve kept track of you, too,” he admits as he joins you.

Startled, you turn over to face him. “You did?”

“Yeah.” Turning off the light, Jimin rolls sideways. “I liked your last outfit. Sundry Sydney?” he says with a snort. “The sticker was brilliant.”

“Some people thought it wasn’t slutty enough.”

“Sundry Sydney is more than a pleasure bot,” Jimin says, quoting you word for word. “She can do everything – or anything, as she later revises.”

You laugh, delighted. “You remember.”

“Of course.” Jimin softens. “I remember everything when it comes to you.”

In the moonlight, he watches your features change. Hesitance follows want in a way that makes his heart ache. Jimin did that. He put this space between you and, almost unthinking, he shifts closer.

“Sorry,” Jimin murmurs when his knee brushes your shin.

You blink. “It’s okay.”

Jimin is aware of each time you inhale, the rise and fall of your chest. The last time he slept next to you, he took it for granted. Now, he memorizes every single detail – your lashes on your cheeks, the weight of your body, the scent of your conditioner from across the pillow. If this is the last night Jimin can lie with you, he wants to remember.

Slowly, the sound of your breathing lulls his eyes shut.

Then next time they open, Jimin only feels heat. Warm, silken heat as he opens one eye and is immediately accosted by the sight of your bare shoulder. Stiffening, Jimin realizes his arm is draped over the curve of your waist. Your face nestles in his chest, fingers curled neatly into the fabric of his t-shirt.

Worse, your nightgown has ridden upward during the night, and Jimin can feel your bare thigh pressed to his. Exhaling softly, he tries to pull back. Under no circumstances can you wake and find him draped over you like the worst kind of leech. You let him sleep in the bed, not sleep with you, which is a crucial difference.

Unfortunately, his attempt at removing his arm only succeeds in rolling you closer. Jimin pauses, reevaluating as your curves press to his. When a mumbled sigh leaves your lips, he nearly gives up.

There’s only so much a person can be expected to ignore. Pressed to your soft skin, memories of past mornings come pouring back. If you were dating, Jimin would be figuring out ways to wake you up with his tongue. As it is, all he can do is close his eyes and pray for his hard-on to die.

“Jimin,” you mumble, pressing closer.

His eyes open. The movement brings your thighs flush together, and there’s no mistaking now, that was his name on your lips. Staring downward, Jimin wonders what you’re dreaming of, and whether or not he’s made an appearance.

Mumbling something, your eyes open. When your gazes connect, Jimin expects you to recoil, waits for the moment you realize where you are and withdraw.

Instead, you blink in a sleepy haze. Tentative, you move your hand higher and – Jimin holds his breath – lightly stroke your thumb down the center of his chest. Jimin hardly dares move as your gaze drops to his lips. Slowly – so, so slowly – you shift your hips forward and part your thighs.

Exhaling roughly, Jimin’s fingers find your thigh to drag over his waist. His hard cock fits snugly against your warm core.

“Oh,” you whimper.

Losing all sense of composure, Jimin tightens his grip and rolls his hips against you.

“Oh,” you moan, your head tipping back.

Dipping his chin, Jimin drags his nose up the heat of your throat. Open-mouthed, he ghosts over the place where your neck meets your collarbone. Panting, you roll your hips as his grip on you tightens. Each line of your body melts against his, driving him crazy.

Moving lower, Jimin brushes the silk hem of your nightgown. Your breath catches when his thumb slips beneath, drawing teasing circles against your inner thigh. One of your hands entwines in his hair, tugging in a way that makes him see red.

“Ah, fuck,” Jimin groans. Grasping your ass with both hands, he rolls on his back and brings you with.

Surprised, you land on top of him. “Jimin – oh,” you breathe when he thrusts upward, pressing his cock against your underwear.

Gaze somewhat hazy, you push yourself upright. Jimin moans at the sight of your thighs spilled to either side, your delicious breasts barely contained by the silk. Not looking away, keeping your hands on his chest, you slowly begin to move your hips. Jimin’s hands slide up to frame your waist, helping you get yourself off on his cock.

It won’t take long, he realizes with some shock. Whatever dream you had got you halfway, based on the way your thighs tremble above him. Lips parting, you moan his name and rock your hips faster. Gripping you tightly, Jimin thrusts upward. His fingers slip down your thighs, edging towards your center, when –

The doorbell rings downstairs.

Instantly, you freeze, your chest rising and falling. Jimin opens his mouth, but before he can utter a single word, you swing your leg off him.

“I – sorry,” you blurt, scooting to stand. “That… shouldn’t have happened.”

Jimin’s mouth shuts. No, probably not, but he also can’t bring himself to regret what just happened. Unlike you, it seems.

“I’m… just going to change,” you rush, practically fleeing into his bathroom. The door slams shut behind you, leaving Jimin alone in the bed.

Wearily, he collapses. “Fuck,” he mutters.

The shower turns on, and his imagination runs wild, replaying the past five minutes. Groaning, Jimin rolls over to stiffly stand. Yanking a sweater and jeans from his closet, he heads for the other bathroom to take care of himself. It barely takes a minute before he comes against the shower wall, chest heaving to stare at the water droplets.

With a clear head, Jimin can feel the full weight of dread in his chest. He moved too fast. Even with you instigating, Jimin shouldn’t have pushed things as far as they went. If he knows you at all – and Jimin thinks that he does – you’re probably freaking out in a separate shower. He needs to assure you as soon as possible that he wants this. Well, he wants you. Not just the physical parts.

Exhaling deeply, Jimin finishes showering and turns off the spray. Toweling himself dry, Jimin dresses as fast as he can to head downstairs. He’s nearly at the kitchen when a hand grasps his elbow, yanking him sideways and shoving him in the front closet.

Stumbling slightly, Jimin turns around and finds himself face-first with Hoseok. Flicking the light switch, Hoseok shuts the door and exhales.

Jimin looks past him. “What are you doing?” he asks, faintly alarmed. “Is everything okay?”

Shaking his head, Hoseok folds his arms across his chest. “No – definitely not. Your dad knows, man.”

“Knows what?”

“He knows,” Hoseok says with a pointed look. “He knows you’re planning to extend your hockey contract.”

Jimin’s heart sinks to the floor.

Coming to his senses, he shakes his head. “How?” Jimin demands. “How does my dad know?”

“Not sure.” Hoseok’s lips twist. “I think he went into town this morning, and some of his buddies told him. Apparently, news of the extension leaked online.”

Jimin is utterly still, already coming up with choice words for his agent. He knew this could happen, despite his request to keep this quiet. Sometimes teams leak the news to increase the pressure on players. Other times, another team in the league does it to spur a trade. Jimin hoped he’d have until the new year but apparently, the choice has been made for him.

“Well, fuck,” he mutters.

Hoseok just nods. “Yeah. I heard your mom and dad talking about it when I came downstairs.”

Jimin pauses, glancing at the door. “Have you just… been waiting out in the hall for me?”

“Yeah. I kept pretending to forget things in our room. Jisoo may or may not have caught on.”

“Great.” Jimin decides to push past this. “Did he… I mean, how did my dad seem?”

Hoseok frowns. “Quiet. I don’t know. He went into his office and didn’t come out until your mom started breakfast.”

Shit. Running a hand through his hair, Jimin exhales. “Alright,” he says. “Well, I guess there’s no point in putting things off.”

“Probably not.”

Nodding, Jimin turns to pull open the door and Hoseok’s hand lands on his shoulder. “Yeah?” Jimin asks, turning around.

“Just letting you know that I’m here for you,” Hoseok says, stepping into the hall. “I may be married to your sister, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

“Thanks, Hobi,” Jimin says quietly.

Squaring his shoulders, he follows him down the hall and into the kitchen. All voices cease. His mom’s spatula clatters against the bowl, and Jisoo falls silent at the kitchen table. Even you turn to face him, a mug of coffee in hand.

Jimin moves forward. “Hey,” he says tentatively. “Good morning.”

“Morning, Jimin!” says his mom, shooting a look at his dad.

Jimin’s dad pushes himself up from the table. “Jimin, can we talk?” he asks, gesturing towards the door. Based on his tone, this isn’t so much a request as a statement.

Although his stomach twists, Jimin manages a nod. “Sure, dad.”

He leaves the room, not looking behind to see if Jimin follows. Taking a deep breath, Jimin follows. When he nears the door, he feels a hand on his elbow. Gripping him tightly, you turn Jimin to face you.

“Hey,” you murmur. “Whatever your dad says – I’m here, okay? I believe in you, Jimin. No matter what.”

There’s steel to your voice, making him believe every word. No hint of weirdness from this morning remains, unraveling an unknown knot in his chest.

“Thank you,” Jimin rasps, gaining the strength to follow his dad.

The door to his dad’s study is as familiar as Jimin’s childhood, known as the only place off-limits to play in. Entering now, Jimin shuts the door and turns around.

His dad sits on the edge of his desk, hands clasped, and face lined. Jimin steps closer, about to plead his case but his dad holds up a hand.

“I think it’s best if I spoke first,” he says quietly.

Jimin stops, then nods.

Exhaling lowly, his dad drags a hand down his face. For the first time, Jimin notices moisture in the corners of his eyes when he looks up. “I heard this morning your contract is up for extension.”

Jimin decides honesty is best. “It is, yeah.”

His dad swallows, and then nods. “When my friends told me… I told them they must be mistaken. I said you would’ve said if that was true, and then they showed me the article…” Steadying himself, his dad continues. “I spent a lot of time this morning thinking about this past year.”

“Oh?” Jimin finds his voice. “What, specifically?”

His dad’s expression shifts. “Jimin, I’m sorry. I never… I never wanted to create a relationship where you couldn’t tell me things. Of course, I don’t want you to get hurt on the ice” – his voice strengthens – “but I know you. I know my son, and you don’t start things you don’t finish. You worked hard this past year to prove everyone wrong – to prove me wrong, and I couldn’t be prouder.”

His voice breaks slightly and, hearing this, Jimin rushes forward. Pulling his dad into a tight hug, Jimin lets out a sigh that sounds more like a sob. They stay there like that, their first hug in nearly a year as Jimin slowly exhales.

For so long, he’s wanted to hear those words from his dad. They feel good, but oddly enough, it feels even better to know he didn’t need this. Jimin has worked hard this fall to divorce self-approval from others. It will always take effort to maintain, but progress has been made, and that makes Jimin happier than anything else.

Pulling back, Jimin’s dad smiles. “We can go back now,” he laughs. “I know your mother made waffles. I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you. And you can talk to me about the contract if you want. There’s no need to keep things from us any longer.”

“Thanks, dad,” Jimin says.

His dad nods once, pulling open the door to gesture at the hall. As Jimin follows him out, you’re the first person he thinks of. Your face, saying you’d support him no matter what. This morning when you sighed his name into his t-shirt. Jimin recalls all the seconds, minutes, days he wanted you by his side this fall and knows he needs to tell you what he wants.

Even if you break his heart, Jimin needs you to know that it’s yours.

Something has changed since this morning.

Well, obviously something has changed. You woke up with your body flush against Jimin, one of your thighs flung over his delicious ass. You nearly came just from dry humping him, already close from the dirty dream you were having – about Jimin, no less. Something has changed though, and that something is you – because you’re no longer concerned about what might happen. About what hurt might befall you if you confess and it fails.

You want Jimin. You love Jimin, you never stopped, and you need him to know that. You just have to figure out how.

That’s proving to be the hard part. Jimin returned with his dad at breakfast, looking relaxed for the first time all trip, and his mom immediately suggested wrapping the gifts. You helped the twins wrap all morning, glitter getting everywhere, and once lunch ended, you needed to get ready for the Christmas Eve party.

Trying to cut down on time, you got ready down the hall – which proved to be a mistake, since it meant you didn’t see Jimin until going downstairs. He went all out this year, and part of you wonders if he did it on purpose. His hair has been slicked, styled away from his face in a wholly devastating manner. He’s wearing a taupe suit he once wore for an interview, a dark turtleneck beneath hugging his pecs in a way that’s distracting.

You only drove two cars tonight, and somehow you ended up in a van with Jimin and his parents. Not that you mind their company – you love Jimin’s parents, but his outfit is rated NC-17. For twenty minutes, you’re forced to sit next to Jimin and not say how good he looks in that suit.

Even at the party, your attention is immediately monopolized by neighbors and friends. Forcing a smile, you nod at the appropriate times in conversation, but your attention is elsewhere. It’s not anyone’s fault, but they just can’t compete with your ex-boyfriend. Slash pretend boyfriend. Slash man you want to be your boyfriend.

An hour into the party, you excuse yourself for the bathroom, shutting yourself in a stall to lower the lid and sit down. From there, you pull out your phone and scroll through the texts.

Namjoon: you did WHAT?! [7:14 PM]

Yoongi: they dry humped, Namjoon [7:16 PM]

Namjoon: Yes, I ‘m aware – my exclamation was one of shock, not confusion [7:17 PM]

Namjoon: what does this mean?? [7:17 PM]

Yoongi: Isn’t it obvious? They’re getting back together. Why else would she fly halfway across the country for Christmas? [7:18 PM]

Scowling darkly, you text them both back.

Y/N: excuse me, I never said anything about getting back together [7:21 PM]

Namjoon: you didn’t need to – Yoongi is right, Y/N [7:21 PM]

Yoongi: per usual [7:22 PM]

Namjoon: you said when you left that you were scared to get hurt because you still had feelings for him [7:22 PM]

Namjoon: well, this is you, having feelings [7:22 PM]

Namjoon: and possibly getting hurt [7:22 PM]

Your scowl only deepens.

Y/N: I’m not going to get hurt [7:23 PM]

Yoongi: … has he said anything about getting back together? [7:23 PM]

You stare at the screen several moments before you respond.

Y/N: no… not exactly [7:24 PM]

Yoongi’s ellipses blink, then disappear and are replaced by Namjoon.

Namjoon: look – no one is saying he won’t ask you, okay? Just… maybe you should talk before dry humping him again. Make sure you’re both on the same page about what this all means [7:25 PM]

Yoongi: what Joon said [7:25 PM]

Yoongi: also – where are you? Hasn’t Jimin noticed you’re glued to your phone? [7:25 PM]

Y/N: no. I’m texting you from the bathroom, smartass [7:26 PM]

Namjoon: go back out there and have fun [7:27 PM]

Y/N: consider it done [7:27 PM]

Returning your phone to your purse, you use the bathroom and freshen up. Once you return to the party, you take a deep breath and scan the crowd.

This year’s Christmas Eve party is at the local ski lodge. The main lobby has been decorated within an inch of its life, the focal point being a gargantuan Christmas tree. Glass windows at the back overlook the ski slopes, butter-yellow light disappearing to shadows.

A waiter walks by with a tray of champagne, and you snag a glass for something to do with your hands.

“Y/N!”

A familiar voice calls, but before you can turn, Jungkook wraps you into a hug. Jungkook Jeon is both Jimin’s childhood friend and his NHL faux rival. Being from the same town, the media love to compare them at every turn – something that’s become a fun rivalry. The last time you hung out, his hair was much longer. Tonight though, he’s wearing all black with a sharp undercut.

“How have you been?” Jungkook grins, pulling back. He’s careful not to mess up your hair or dress, for which you’re grateful.

“Good,” you say with a laugh. “What about you? I hear the Kraken are leading the division – you must be happy.”

Jungkook’s smile disappears. “Not the conference, though.”

You can’t help but laugh, knowing his perfectionism rivals only Jimin. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“Someone’s got to be. And besides,” he adds, glancing over your shoulder. “It’s not like we have the best offensive player in the league,” Jungkook calls in a sing-songy voice.

A familiar arm wraps around your waist. “Did you two watch the same special, or something?” Jimin gripes, brushing his lips to your cheek. “There are so many good players, calling anyone ‘the best’ is kind of pointless.”

“I believe they totaled your points,” you say, much to Jungkook’s amusement.

“I leave you alone for five minutes,” Jimin sighs with a shake of his head. “And of course, Jungkook swoops in to steal you.”

“Can you blame me?” Jungkook winks, drinking from his champagne. “Look at Y/N! If he ever messes up, Y/N, give me a call,” he jokes, and you feel Jimin stiffen.

“That won’t be necessary,” you say, leaning your head on Jimin’s shoulder.

He relaxes ever so slightly, squeezing your waist with one hand. Jungkook grimaces at this, trading his nearly empty champagne glass for a full one.

“You two are annoyingly cute,” he says, but he grins. “Seriously, though, you’ve been putting in work, Jimin. It’s impressive.”

“Thanks.” Jimin nods, toasting his glass.

“Have you seen Tae and Seokjin?” Jungkook asks, standing on tiptoe. “I keep getting cornered by moms wanting me to date their daughters, and I could use some high ground.”

You can’t help but laugh as Jimin jerks his thumb. “Alcove off the balcony. Everyone is gathered there – I was just coming to get Y/N.”

“Perfect,” Jungkook says as he leaves. “I’ll meet you there.”

Once he’s gone, Jimin shakes his head. Taehyung and Seokjin are two of their closest high school friends. Seokjin is currently single, but Taehyung got married early this year. Unfortunately, you couldn’t attend their wedding, but the ceremony looked beautiful, and you sent a gift.

Setting down his champagne, Jimin grabs your hand and tugs you into a corner. Turning to face you, his cheeks flush slightly pink.

“Hey,” he murmurs, looking you up and down. “Have I said how beautiful you look tonight?”

Heat stirs in your belly. “Not yet, no.”

“Well, you do,” Jimin says, his gaze dark.

Admittedly, you were a bit unfair in packing this dress. Your original intention in buying it was to wear New Year’s Eve and post jealousy-inducing photos on Instagram. Instead, you’re wearing it here with Jimin on your arm. Silky and emerald, the dress clings like a second skin, dropping in the back to a point just above your ass. Slightly impractical, but you borrowed a coat from Jisoo.

Jimin’s fingers ghost over the silk. “You deserve to hear it again,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “You’re being kind of unfair to everyone else at this party.”

“How so?”

“Poor Jungkook will have to find someone else.”

Your upper lip twitches, stepping closer. “Is that what you’re worried about?” you coo, sliding a hand up his chest. “That I’ll take Jungkook up on his offer? Not interested,” you say, allowing your gaze to linger. “You, on the other hand – that suit is designed to ruin hearts.”

“Only hearts?”

“Mm.” Softly, your voice drops. “Why? Were you planning on ruining something else?”

“Only if you asked nicely.”

Your eyes widen, stunned and Jimin smiles. His hands grip your body, cedar and black pepper scent wrapping around you and doing its best to make you come undone.

“Come on.” Taking your hand, Jimin turns away. “Let’s go and say hi to my friends. Everyone was asking earlier where you were.”

Slightly dazed by his former implication, you nod and follow. Jimin leads you through the crowd, bypassing everyone who attempts small talk. By the time you reach the alcove, Jungkook is already seated.

“What happened to you two?” he asks, smushed between Taehyung and Seokjin on the couch. “Making out in a corner? Couples are the worst,” he mutters to Taehyung before realizing who he’s talking to. “Oh. Right. Never mind.”

Taehyung’s wife, Alya, laughs from her armchair. “No comment. We may have been making out in a corner earlier.”

A lone strand of hair falls over Taehyung’s forehead. “Guilty,” he says, raising his glass.

Seokjin pokes Jungkook in the side. “If you hate couples so much, why are you sitting here,” he groans. “This is a two-person sofa.”

“Exactly!” Jungkook says. “It’s weird for you and Taehyung to sit together, since he’s married. I’m actually saving you.”

Settling onto an armchair, Jimin pulls you down with him to sit on his lap. His arm snakes around your front, pulling you backwards to rest.

“Anyways.” Jimin looks around. “How is everyone?”

Hoseok and Jisoo appear from the hall. “Oh, thank god,” Jisoo says, sitting between you and Alya. “This area was a complete sausage fest the last time we swung by.”

“Hey!” Seokjin cries. “I offered you a drink.”

“You offered her your drink,” Hoseok says drily, sitting next to his wife. “Doesn’t count.”

Jisoo leans over her armrest. “Y/N,” she hisses. “Do you have a tampon? They didn’t fit in my purse, and of course, my body waited until now to announce we’re not pregnant.”

You stifle a laugh. “Yes, of course,” you say, handing her your purse. “Left inner pocket – go wild.”

“Thanks.” Flashing a smile, Jisoo stands from the chair and disappears down the hall.

Jimin holds you against him, his thumb lightly stroking the ridge of your hip. Your entire body melts, perception heightened at each point he touches.

“So.” Jungkook turns towards Taehyung. “What did you get Alya for Christmas, Tae? Aside from the wedding, obviously.”

Alya laughs and sips her champagne. “Go on, tell them.”

Taehyung turns red. “It’s embarrassing!”

“What is?” Jungkook asks, glancing between them.

“It’s not.” Alya shakes her head. “Taehyung was so excited about the gift he gave it to me early. This morning, he surprised me by having our wedding bands engraved. I wanted to do it last year, but it didn’t fit in our budget. Anyways, he borrowed my band to clean it and got it done! I didn’t suspect a thing!”

“That’s amazing,” you say. “I love that idea.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Taehyung smiles.

“What about you, Jimin?” Seokjin jostles Jungkook to face him. “What did you get Y/N this year? What is it – four years?”

Jimin tenses slightly, so you jump in. “Oh, we decided not to do gifts this year,” you hasten. “There’s been a lot going on, and we –”

“I got Y/N a gift,” Jimin interrupts. “But it’s a secret until tomorrow.”

Surprised, you crane your head sideways to see him. “You got me a gift?”

He nods. “Yeah. Is that alright?”

“Mhm.” You shift in his lap. “I, um… actually got you something, too.”

Tightening his grip on your waist, Jimin keeps you still. “Oh?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

You bought Jimin a gift months ago, and never returned it. When you were packing, you decided at the last minute to throw it inside – along with this dress and the skimpy night clothes.

“I want to know!” Seokjin blurts. “Just whisper it in my ear, Y/N. I won’t tell.”

You laugh, facing forward. “Sorry, Seokjin. That’s confidential. Mr. Kim” – you nod at Taehyung – “may not respect the sanctity of Santa Claus, but I’m not risking getting coal in my stocking.”

Softly, Jimin laughs, nuzzling your shoulder with his lips. It hasn’t escaped you that he stilled your hips to conceal his reaction to you on top. Something which distracts you more than it should.

“Get off,” Seokjin groans, pushing Jungkook upward. “I swear, you make this party worse every year.”

You grin, watching their antics as Jungkook walks off. Taller and heavier than Jimin, you know he only stood from the seat because he wanted to. Wandering to a free armchair, Jungkook flops down.

“Where’s your Christmas spirit?” he asks, waving his glass of champagne. “I was just about to tell you the holidays aren’t so bad with you around.”

Alya and Hoseok both laugh, and Taehyung shakes his head. Conversation then devolves to the Seattle Kraken, and Jimin’s fingers dig into the silk at your waist.

“Did you mean that?” he murmurs, lips at your ear. “Did you actually get me a present? Because it’s fine if you didn’t. I sprung this trip on you, and we’re not – well, you know…”

“I know,” you say back. “But yes, I got you a gift. Actually.” You pause. “I bought it for you a while ago and held onto it.”

“Ah.” Jimin pauses. Slipping his thumb beneath your chin, he turns you to face him. “Y/N. I just wanted to say –”

“Hey, Y/N, someone’s calling you,” announces Jisoo, walking into the room. Reaching into your purse, she pulls out your phone and frowns. “Who’s Mike?”

Your stomach drops through the floor.

Jimin’s body tenses beneath you, and you fight for a way out of the growing panic. Worse, everyone else seems to have heard, since all gazes lock on you. Struggling to breathe, you stand abruptly and snatch your phone.

“No one,” you blurt, grabbing your purse from a blinking Jisoo. “I mean, Mike’s a client. I should probably take this call outside.”

Before they can respond, you grab your phone and rush off. Brushing past Jisoo, you ignore her look of concern. Loudly, your heels click on the wooden floor. Whispers rise in your exit, but you ignore them, face burning as you turn your phone over in your hand.

Reaching the foyer, you stumble to a halt and glance overhead at the mistletoe. Purposefully side-stepping this, you see one missed call. In addition, there are several missed texts from Yoongi and Namjoon, but these you ignore.

Fingers trembling, you swipe open the text from Mike Davis.

Mike: hey, Y/N! I was doing laundry and found your Ventra card in my pocket. I think I grabbed yours by mistake. Want to meet up and exchange in the new year? [8:10 PM]

Mike: you know, I had a really great time meeting you the other night [8:13 PM]

You grip your phone tighter. He can’t be serious. The date ended so poorly, you were surprised the bartender didn’t film and put it on TikTok. Mike can’t actually want to hang out again. Orthink reaching out to you on Christmas Eve would be a good idea.

Brow lowered, your fingers punch the keyboard.

Y/N: Hey, Mike. You can keep the Ventra card, no worries [8:25 PM]

Deleting his number, you exhale in relief and turn around – only to run into Jimin, who stands right behind. Close enough to have seen every word on your phone.

Jimin’s fists clench, having read both the texts. There’s no reason to be jealous, he reminds himself with zero success. You aren’t dating, so it’s perfectly reasonable for you to text another guy. The fact that this Mike guy hasn’t come up is none of Jimin’s concern. And yet.

“So.” Voice cold, Jimin tilts his head. “Mike is…?”

He pauses for you to complete the blank, knowing you won’t say just a client.

“He’s…” Shifting, you avoid eye contact. “Someone I know.”

“Please.”

Your expression shifts, meeting his gaze. “Well, what do you want me to say?” you demand, stepping closer. “Tell your friends a client called me. They’ll buy it, it’ll be fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Jimin growls. “And I could care less what my friends think.”

Bewildered, you stare. “I don’t understand. That’s literally the entire reason you asked me to come here this weekend. So you wouldn’t have to admit we broke up.”

Jimin’s heart flatlines. “Is that really what you think?” he demands, reaching out. Catching your wrist, he pulls you even closer. “You thought I was so terrified of explaining my contract to my family, I couldn’t possibly tell them we broke up, as well?”

Your brows furrow deeper. “That’s what you told me, so, yes. That’s what I thought.”

“Right. And is it serious?”

“Is what serious?”

“This guy – Mike. Are you two serious?”

Your jaw hangs open a second before it snaps shut. “Are we – no, Jimin,” you say, the words dripping with derision. “We’re not serious. You and I broke up only three months ago! Do you really think I managed to move on so quickly?”

“I don’t know,” Jimin admits, even as his head spins. “I didn’t–”

“I mean, god,” you exhale, ripping your hand from his grasp. “I go on one date, and somehow, I’m the bad guy. Never mind that you’re the one who wanted to break up,” you add, whirling around to jab him in the chest. “You” – a second prod – “were the one who asked to break up!”

Closing his hand around your finger, Jimin tugs you forward. “I know,” he says hoarsely. “I know I messed up, Y/N. I know I have no right to be jealous, but I am. I’m jealous, and I’m wrong, and I don’t even fucking care because I miss you, Y/N. I know you’re right here, but I miss you.”

Something in your gaze breaks. “I miss you, too, Jimin.”

“I know I didn’t fight hard enough to keep you back then. I should have, and I can’t say how much I regret it.” Sliding his hands up your arms, Jimin grips your elbows. “I don’t care if you went out with one guy or a hundred. I asked you to come here this weekend because I wanted you. I was too afraid to ask you outright, so I used my career as an excuse.”

“An… excuse?”

Gripping you tighter, Jimin exhales. “I mean, everyone knows. My parents know I’m extending my contract, and they’re fine with it. I still don’t want to tell them we broke up.”

“Well, sure.” Your gaze darts across him. “Because you don’t want to spoil Christmas – right?”

“That’s not why.”

“Then, why?”

Before he can lose his nerve, Jimin slides his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. You inhale when your chests touch, the silk of your dress rucking beneath his palm.

“I think you know the reason,” he rasps, his gaze finding your lips.

“All the same” – somehow, your fingers curl into hair at the base of his neck – “I’d like to hear you say it.”

Bending, Jimin’s lips skim your throat. “I told you I don’t care what my family thinks. I just want you, Y/N.”

Inhaling sharply, you turn your head. Your lips briefly touch, then you still.

Jimin hesitates, his brain short-circuiting before he connects. Springing into motion, he slides both palms to either side of your face and kisses you deeply. Walking you backwards, he only stops when your spine hits the wall. Reaching lower, Jimin grabs your wrists with one hand to yank overhead.

You stare upward, eyes lidded, as your chest rises and falls. Jimin nearly groans, sliding his knee between your legs to widen your stance.

“God, you’re perfect,” he breathes, crushing your mouth with his.

All he knows is your scent, wrapped around him. The feel of your mouth, the curves of your body arching against him. Jimin loses himself in the moment – in you – to the point where nothing else seems to matter.

Releasing your wrists, Jimin grasps the hem of your dress with one hand to drag it upward. Inch by inch, your bare thigh is revealed to his touch.

“Oh,” you gasp, your head hitting the wall.

Taking advantage, Jimin kisses roughly down your exposed neckline. Each time you inhale, it reminds him of your chest against him. Withdrawing, Jimin glances down and nearly curses. Whatever bra you have on does little to conceal your hardened nipples, easily visible through the silk of your dress.

“Mm.” Jimin exhales, running a thumb over the tip. “Can’t have you returning to the party like this, can I?”

Your thighs clench. “People definitelywouldn’t suspect we broke up.”

Again, Jimin circles your nipple, making you moan. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “Like I said, though – this isn’t about the people out there. This is about you. What do you want, Y/N?”

Jimin holds his breath as he waits for an answer. Really, this is what it comes down to.

Your grip on him tightens. “I want you to take me home right now, Jimin.”

“Fuck, yes,” he breathes.

Grasping you by the hand, Jimin tugs you into the hall. You giggle, stumbling as you fix the strap of your dress, and he can’t keep a stupid grin from spreading over his face.

“We’re leaving now,” Jimin says, bringing you towards the exit. “Otherwise, I’m going to drag you into the bathroom and fuck you like that.”

Your heels dig into the floorboards, and he turns to look at you, concerned.

“Oh.” You blink innocently. “I’m sorry, was that supposed to be a threat?”

Jimin goes still, consumed by images he’d rather not face. Visions of your panties pulled down, bent over his knees while he fingers your dripping pussy. Or your hands, curled around a doorframe while he lowers himself to drag his tongue up your slit. Or pressed against a wall, your panties pushed aside for him to –

“Alright – enough,” Jimin growls, grabbing your hand.

You laugh when he pulls you onward, bringing you to the lodge doors. Reaching the front, Jimin pauses long enough to hand the valet his ticket. While you visit the coat closet, he pulls you close and runs his nose down your throat.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?” he murmurs, low in your ear. “Any idea just how many times I’ve jerked off in the shower this trip?”

“How sad,” you say, turning to face him. “Pray tell, what did you think about?”

Sliding his hand over the curve of your ass, Jimin presses you closer. “Lots of things,” he exhales. “Your pretty lips around my cock. Finger-fucking you slowly, making you take it. How wet you were beneath those ridiculous excuses for nightgowns.”

Your laugh is throaty. “I brought those specifically for you, you know.”

“Mission accomplished,” Jimin growls. Outside, he sees the valet arrive and releases your waist. “Now, let’s go.”

Slipping both arms into your coat, you follow Jimin outside to the car. He helps you in, shutting the door and traveling to the passenger side. Shoving a hand through his hair, he attempts to regain his composure. The two of you need to get home safely – that’s top priority.

Of course, by the time he sits down and glances over, all thoughts of safety fly out the window. You’ve left your coat unbuttoned, enough that he sees each sinful line of your body. Suddenly, his top priority is to get you home – now.

Shutting the door, Jimin puts the car in drive and pulls from the lodge. You exhale, somewhat breathless as you shift to face him.

“This is going to be fast,” you admit, a bit breathy. Jimin’s hands on the wheel tighten. “You said you’ve been jerking off in the shower? Well, I haven’t had any alone time. You’ve just been edging me for three days.”

“Don’t say edging,” Jimin groans. “I’m trying to concentrate on getting you home.”

“Oh?” Tilting your head, you lean closer. “Do you find that topic distracting?”

“Yes,” Jimin huffs, and then pauses. “Actually… I think you could use a little more distraction. Don’t you?”

He doesn’t miss the way your fingers still, your breath hitching beside him.

“Maybe,” you say.

Jimin glances in your direction. “Spread your legs.”

Without breaking eye contact, you spread your legs until the silk is stretched tautly over your thighs.

“Pull up your dress.”

Casually, you grip the hem to tug upward. Jimin tries not to look, watching the road, but the position is torturous. As soon as you come to a stop light, he turns.

Your thighs press against the edge of the seat, silken dress hitched over the top of your thighs. Jimin exhales, unable to see what he wants, but the shadows and skin are more than enticing.

“Touch yourself,” he instructs, and desire flares in your gaze.

Arching slightly, your hand inches lower to dip beneath your dress. Jimin keeps his eyes on you, watching and waiting for your reaction. When he hears the slip of your finger, your lips slowly part as your eyes fill with lust.

“Oh,” you exhale, and Jimin’s body tightens.

“That’s it,” he breathes, listening to your finger drag upward. “How wet are you, baby?”

“So wet,” you groan, eyelashes fluttering as you spread your legs further.

“No.” Jimin’s gaze drops to your hand. “Press your thighs together. Keep touching yourself.”

The light turns green, spurring him onward as the night changes. He watches you obey in the corner of one eye, legs pressed together with your hand trapped between them. Head hitting the headrest, your chest rises and falls with the motion of your fingers.

“That’s it, baby,” Jimin murmurs, switching lanes to go faster. “You’re doing so well. I want you to come once for me before we get home. Okay?”

Your eyes open. “You want me to come?”

“Just once.” Jimin lowly chuckles. “I know you, baby. I know you can come at least twice more tonight.”

“Fuck,” you groan, your need evident.

The record number of orgasms Jimin has given you in one night is five, but that was only one time. Jimin thought it’d be fun to see how many times he could make you come with only his tongue. Five, it turned out – or rather, that was the point you frankly begged for his cock.

A few minutes away from home, Jimin relents. “Alright,” he exhales. “Spread your legs again.”

You instantly obey, thighs spread as you groan, your fingers slipping lower.

“Can you stretch yourself for me, baby?” Jimin murmurs, the words low and thick. “Keep that other hand on your clit, now.”

Adding another hand, you arch on the seat. Every ounce of blood in Jimin’s body rushes towards his cock, enough to make things painful as you near the house. You push a finger inside, releasing a moan that makes his grip tighten.

“That’s it,” Jimin exhales, driving as carefully as possible over the dirt road.

“Ah,” you gasp when he hits a bump, jolting your fingers deeper.

Jimin clenches the wheel. “You liked that?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, glancing at him, your expression almost shy.

Fuck. Jimin does his best to angle the car, creating more friction as you rub your clit. He does his best to remain facing forward but is distracted every so often by the sight of your hips moving against the seat.

Throwing out a hand, you grasp his lower arm. “Jimin,” you groan, your head hitting the headrest. “I’m so, so close.”

Pulling to a stop in the driveway, Jimin puts the car in park and throws off his seatbelt. Shoving open the door, he goes to the passenger side. Your eyes widen when he yanks open your door, unbuckling you and dragging your hips to the edge of your seat.

“Eyes on me,” Jimin directs, gripping the seat on either side. “Just keep touching yourself like a good girl, Y/N. I know that pussy is so pretty and wet. Can’t wait to lick it clean later. Can you spread yourself wider? Add another finger?”

Your thighs fall on either side of his waist, enough for Jimin to know you can feel how hard he is. The dress continues to cover your waist, and he doesn’t lift it higher. Doesn’t so much as touch you, just keeps his gaze trained on yours.

“I need your fingers,” you whimper, and Jimin feels you grip his wrist, guiding his hand in between your slick legs.

“Shit,” he exhales, feeling how wet you are.

The slick core of heat, your hips arching against him, breaks his last scruple. Keeping his gaze steady, Jimin slowly slides two fingers into your perfect cunt. Relief washes over your face, your lips parting as fresh arousal coats Jimin’s hand.

“God,” he murmurs, twisting his fingers to pull out. Slowly, he pushes back in and watches you hiccup. “You really did need my fingers, didn’t you, baby?”

“Yes,” you whimper, scrambling to sit straighter. Pulling him closer, your thighs widen. “I need you inside me.”

“In what way?” Jimin muses, stretching you as he pulls out.

“Want your cock, Jimin,” you groan, your chest heaving.

Pushing aside your coat, his free hand yanks down the strap of your dress, revealing what can barely be construed as a bra. The tiniest silk triangle barely covers your nipple in a flimsy excuse for support.

“You’ll get my cock,” Jimin promises. Lowering his head, he sucks your nipple – silk and all – between his lips. “Want to taste you first.”

“Jimin,” you moan.

“Patience.” Yanking your hips closer, he leans over you on the seat. Using this angle, he works his fingers deeper as your body tightens. “Like that, yeah?” Jimin murmurs, brushing your g-spot. “Want to come like this?”

“Please,” you whimper, spreading your thighs.

Jimin loses himself in the haze of your body, the tight slick of your heat while he finger-fucks you. Each thrust of his forearm has your breasts bouncing, your tiny scrap of a bra doing nothing to hide the movement.

“Once we get upstairs” – Jimin thrusts harder – “I want this dress on the floor. I want you dripping wet and naked, ass in the air so I can push my cock inside you.”

“Jimin!” you gasp, your entire body shuddering.

“And then,” he adds, low in your ear, “I want you to ride me. Need these tits in my mouth, your ass bouncing on my dick as you come again.”

You cry out, head thrown back as you come apart. Continuing to thrust his fingers, Jimin slows his movement as your breathing lengthens. Slumping against him, you hold tight with both arms.

As gentle as possible, Jimin slips his fingers from your body to fix your dress and coat. Shifting your weight from the seat to his arms, he shuts the door with his heel and starts to walk up the drive.

Stirring, you look around. “Oh,” you exhale, seeing the front porch. “Are we home already?”

Jimin stops to stare at you in his arms. “Did you… think I just pulled aside on a random highway?” he asks, equal parts puzzled and amused.

Sheepish, you feel your face heat. “Maybe?”

“Fair enough.” Jimin chuckles and keeps moving. “You should know, though – I wouldn’t risk anyone else seeing you like that.” He pauses. “Unless you wanted them to.”

You squirm in his arms, somewhat embarrassed by how much you like the prospect. Seeing this, Jimin’s eyes gleam and he leans closer.

“Seems like you might want that,” he murmurs.

Unable to articulate, you nod and watch his lips curve.

“Noted.”

Reaching the front door, Jimin bends to set you down. Once inside, he strips from his coat and boots, turning around to face you.

God, just looking at him is enough to make you weak. He just gave one ridiculously satisfying orgasm – it should be too soon for another and yet, your traitorous body feels barely sated.

“Was I not clear?” Lifting a brow, Jimin walks closer. “I thought I said I wanted you naked.”

You lift your chin. “Wanting is different than getting.”

“Oh, I think you want that, too.”

Fuck. You absolutely do, but you know Jimin enjoys being teased, so you lift your chin in the air to walk past him. “Well?” you demand, placing one hand on the railing. “Are you coming?”

You let your coat drop to your elbows, stepping out of your heels to head upstairs. Jimin groans from behind, and you hear his footsteps follow.

Entering the bedroom, you drop your coat on the couch and turn. Jimin stands framed in the door, several buttons on his jacket already undone. He doesn’t come any closer, and you lift your thumbs to slip under the straps.

“Was this what you wanted?” you ask, innocently slipping them down your shoulders.

Jimin moves forward. Coming to a stop, he replaces your thumbs and casually tugs. The dress slips from your shoulders, catching on your chest, and he motions you to turn.

Obeying, you watch in the mirror as Jimin steps closer. He meets your gaze head-on, slipping a hand around your stomach to mold himself to you from behind. Finding your zipper with his other hand, he tugs down.

Both of you watch the dress fall, silk pooling at your feet to leave you naked. Well, mostly naked. A red, silk thong remains, along with your bra. Really, just two triangles of silk held up by thin straps. Your breasts spill around the materials, creating a tantalizing visual his gaze is locked on. Jimin fingers the clasp of your bra, then releases.

“Actually,” he says, his voice husky. “I want to play like this.”

Before you can fully digest his words, Jimin walks around and grasps your hand. Leading you to bed, he sets you down and urges you backwards.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, nudging your ankles apart. “Just like that.”

Releasing you, he takes a step back to run a hand through his hair. You stare upward, propped on your elbows, your chest rising and falling. Jimin stares like you’re something to be savored, then devoured. His gaze traces your body, starting at your ankles to work his way upward.

He takes in your spread legs, dripping pussy visible beneath the scrap of silk. By the time Jimin finds your breasts, your nipples are painfully hard, and he groans, reaching down to palm his cock. Your breath catches, seeing how hard he is in his pants.

“Jimin,” you moan, sliding one foot lower. “I want you.”

Lowering his knee to the bed, Jimin plants a hand on either side of your head. “Patience,” he murmurs, brushing his lips to yours.

You curl around him, fingers tangling in soft stands of his hair. His fully clothed body presses against you, nearly nude, and you shiver. The feel of his suit against skin is intoxicating. Jimin pulls back to nip your lower lip, grasping you by the waist to pin you fully.

Thrusting forward, he allows you to feel how badly he wants you. His achingly hard cock grinds against your center, and you arch beneath him.

“Jimin,” you pant, tightening your grip in his hair.

“Ah – fuck,” he groans, helplessly rutting between your spread thighs.

Your hands fumble, slipping beneath his suit jacket to cast this aside. Jimin sits up, helping you shed his dark turtleneck. Thrown to the ground, he lowers his mouth, eagerly flicking your chest with his tongue. You moan, hands fisting his hair to anchor him. Tugging the other silk cup down, Jimin switches to suck a hardened nipple.

“Get rid of it,” you pant, reaching underneath to unsnap your bra. Jimin grins, tossing your bra on top of his pile of clothes. Swiftly returning, he bends to lick and suck at your breasts.

Your hips roll beneath him, desperately searching for your release. Jimin knows how sensitive you are, knows you can come like this, but doesn’t seem inclined. Instead, he sits back and runs a hand through his hair.

You nearly come at the sight – Jimin, shirtless with mussed hair and reddened lips. Pushing yourself upward, you struggle to undo the first button of his pants.

Chuckling, Jimin replaces your hands with his. “I need these on,” he says, scooting backwards. “I need something to keep myself from coming.”

“But I want you to come,” you protest as Jimin lowers himself to his stomach.

“And I appreciate that.” Turning his head, his breath touches your knee. “But I’ve spent three months fantasizing about what to do if I ever got to touch you again. First things first.”

Lowering yourself to your elbows, your entire body throbs at the sight of Jimin between your thighs. He looks at you, reverent, before slowly dragging his thumb down your aching center.

“Oh,” you inhale, opening further.

Gaze dark, Jimin pulls the fabric of your panties aside. Your face burns, hearing your wetness, but all that dissolves at the first sweep of his tongue.

“Fu-ck, Jimin,” you groan, head tipping back.

He takes his time, working you open with long, tender strokes. No man has ever eaten you out so well, and you doubt anyone ever will again. As though driving this point home, Jimin switches from tender licks to sucking hard on your clit. You moan, helplessly splayed beneath his torture.

“Jimin,” you gasp, hands fisting in sheets.

Shifting closer, Jimin nudges one leg over his shoulders and grips your ass with both hands. Pulling you into his mouth, he devours, licking up and down in a way that’s obscene. A half-sob climbs in your throat, your back arching when he adds a finger.

“That’s it, Y/N,” Jimin pants, lifting his head. “Such a pretty pussy. Can you come for me, baby?”

“Y-yes,” you gasp.

Jimin lowers his mouth, adding a finger while slowly sucking your clit. Staring down your body at him, you feel your thighs tremble. Jimin’s shoulders flex while eating you out, his hips grinding into the sheets to get himself off. Imagining his cock pushing inside tips you over the edge, and you break apart. A wave of pleasure sweeps through you, seeing stars as Jimin curls his fingers.

Muscles limp, you collapse on the mattress. When your eyes open, your thigh is still flung over Jimin’s shoulder. Grinning, he pushes himself upward, taking your leg with him. Turning, Jimin presses a soft kiss to your calf.

“Fuck,” you groan, one arm flung over your face. “That was even better than I remember. And trust me, I’ve thought about that a lot.”

“Oh?” Jimin gently sets your leg down. “Do tell.”

You peek at him through your fingers. “Take off your pants.”

Jimin drops his hands to his belt. “Tell me” – he undoes the buckle – “in explicit detail” – he pulls the length through the straps – “what you thought about.” The belt is dropped on the floor.

Your tongue swipes your lower lip. “I thought about a lot of things.”

“Be specific.” Shoving his pants and briefs down, Jimin lingers at the point where his hips are exposed. “When you touched yourself, did you think of me?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Mm.” Jimin tilts his head. “What about when you used your toys?”

You whimper, spreading your thighs on his bed. “Yes.”

“And were they good enough? Did your pretty pink dildo stretch you as nicely?”

“No,” you whimper, watching him stand.

Still looking at you, Jimin pushes his slacks to the floor. Your heart pounds when his length is released, so hard it seems painful. The head of his cock glistens with pre-cum, the thick veins prominent. Wrapping a fist around himself, Jimin places one knee on the mattress.

“Take your panties off,” he rasps, and you hasten to obey.

Once they’re removed, you’re left naked before him. Gaze glinting, Jimin inclines his head. “Turn around. Lay on your stomach.”

Heat throbs between your legs as you do so, glancing over your shoulder. Jimin positions himself behind you, kneeling over your thighs with his cock in his fist.

“I’ve thought about this for so long,” he exhales, slipping two fingers into your pussy. Arching your back, you squirm to get closer. “When you come, I want to see you, but right now…”

You feel the head of cock nudging your thighs apart, getting wet with your slick. Leaning over, Jimin pulls open a drawer on his nightstand to retrieve a condom. Pulling this open, he rolls this onto himself and pushes between your thighs.

Each messy thrust rubs his cock against your clit, making you push your ass backwards. Jimin smacks your ass swiftly, then makes a low noise and rubs it.

“God, I missed you,” he exhales, pushing himself into your cunt.

You moan, burying your face in your arms to lift your ass higher. Jimin is thick, even more than you remember, and you feel your walls stretch with a pleasant burn. He pauses a few inches in to gently tug your hips upward.

Keeping your chest to the bed, he lifts you almost to your knees. Leaning forward, Jimin slips an arm underneath you to play with your clit. From behind, his hips slowly thrust in and out a few inches. Stretching you, yet barely sating the edge of your desire.

“Jimin,” you groan, turning your head to capture his mouth.

His fingers nudge your clit, tongue slipping past your lips as his cock gets even deeper. Each time he slowly thrusts and withdraws, you accept him a little more. Buried halfway, Jimin draws leisurely circles around your throbbing clit.

“More,” you moan, pushing back.

Jimin chuckles, retreating to grip your hips with both hands. He thrusts in slow, easy motions to work himself deeper. By the time he bottoms out, your hands are fisted in sheets.

“Fuck,” you exhale, thighs spread to accommodate him inside you.

Jimin stays there a moment, thumbs drifting over the shape of your ass. “Y/N,” he mutters. “You’re so goddamn perfect.”

Leisurely, he withdraws until only the head of his cock remains. Jimin thrusts forward slowly, making you feel every inch of him. Moaning, you bury your face in the sheets, and his hand comes down again.

“Louder,” Jimin demands, gripping your waist. “Don’t hide from me, baby. Want to hear you.”

Head thrown back, you pant as he sinks into you fully. All you do is take it, breathless and eager while he slowly fucks you. Casually, Jimin pushes your hips down so you lie flat on the bed. One foot on the mattress, he adjusts himself to push inside you like that.

“Oh,” you moan, toes curling.

Thighs pressed together, your clit rubs the sheets, making it messy and tight as he moves inside you. Gripping your ass with one hand, Jimin anchors himself to fuck you in slow, rolling movements. You arch underneath him, gaining friction but when you clench tighter, Jimin pulls out.

A strangled sound leaves your throat. “Excuse me,” you blurt, rolling sideways to face him. “I was enjoying that.”

“Oh, I know.” Jimin grins from the spot where he kneels. His cock is hard, glistening with evidence of your arousal. “But what I really want is to have you on my lap.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Turning over, you arch your back and watch Jimin’s eyes glaze. He reaches for you swiftly, helping you onto your knees. Seating himself against the headboard, Jimin arranges your body over his thighs.

Hovering above him, you grasp his shoulders. “Is this what you wanted?’

“Fuck, yes.” Jimin drinks in your body. His fingers swipe through your cunt, teasing as he bends to suck a hard nipple between his lips.

Spreading your ass with one hand, his fingers stroke up and down your aching pussy. Arching against him, you present your chest further as your grip on him tightens. Jimin slips a finger inside you, casually fucking like that until you moan.

“Jimin,” you whimper. “Please.”

Moving to grip his cock, Jimin positions himself at your entrance. “All you had to do was ask,” he says, guiding your hips.

The head of his cock pushes inside, then stops, waiting for you to take over. Greedy, you seat yourself in a single motion. One second, you’re empty and the next, you’re full of his cock. Jimin swears, gripping you tightly as you inhale. Chest pressed to his, you stay there, pussy throbbing as you grow accustomed to his girth.

“Fuck – Y/N,” Jimin chokes out.

“I thought you wanted this?” you tease, lifting your hips to swivel. Jimin’s eyelashes flutter when you start riding him, rising and falling on the length of his cock.

Thighs spread, you grip his shoulders to move up and down. Jimin groans, lowering his head to tease one of your nipples. He continues this while you fuck him, sucking and releasing with a lewd pop. Needing him deeper, you start to bounce up and down. His cock soothes a tight ache inside you, stretching your body like he was made for it.

Breathless, you press closer, curling your fingers into his hair. Jimin responds eagerly, widening your thighs to grip your ass with one hand. Tightly entwined, you move against him until he takes over, slamming your hips down again and again.

“Jimin,” you pant, your legs trembling. “I need more.”

“More?” Jimin pants, his expression truly fucked out. “Alright, baby.”

Lifting you off his cock, he ensures the condom is snug and positions himself on his knees. “Lie down,” Jimin demands, and you hasten to obey.

Settling on your back, you spread your thighs for Jimin to move between. Gripping your ankles, he lifts your legs upward. Pushing them towards your chest, he exposes you fully.

“So pretty,” Jimin murmurs, dragging his fingers through the slick of your folds. Switching your ankles to one hand, he lowers them to his shoulder and positions his cock at your entrance. When he pushes inside, you moan at the tightness. “Yeah, that’s it,” he coaxes, getting deeper. “You take me so well, baby.”

“Better than other girls?” you pant, the words out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Jimin goes still, then gently parts your thighs. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Jimin leans forward until your lips brush.

“What other girls?” he murmurs, thrusting into you slowly. “Y/N. You don’t seriously think I had any interest in fucking other girls while we were apart?”

Your heart hammers as you try – and fail – to squash your insecurities. With everyone else, you have no trouble saying what you want. With Jimin though, you’re aware he could crush you with a single word. It’s harder when the stakes are as high as they are.

“I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” you whisper. “We were… broken up, and –”

Jimin bends, rolling his hips to shove his cock deeper. Your words break on a moan, legs encircling him tighter.

“I don’t want to hear that again,” Jimin says, low in your ear. “You are the only person I want, Y/N. The only one in my bed. The only pussy wrapped around this cock. The only one coming beneath me,” he murmurs with another hard thrust.

Your thighs start to shake, but you fight to keep present. Hips lifting, you match him thrust for thrust as your fingers curl in his hair. Jimin moves faster, pounding you into the bed hard enough to see stars.

“I don’t care if you slept with someone else,” he says hoarsely, reaching between you. You tremble when he circles your swollen clit. “I just want you thinking of me from now on.”

“Y-yes, Jimin!” you cry out, not sure what you’re agreeing to, but knowing you don’t want this moment to end. You don’t want this to end when the weekend is over.

His mouth crushes yours, tongue sweeping forward to match every thrust. Jimin’s scent is all around you, within you as you begin to lose track of where you end, and he begins. Your focus narrows, becoming nothing but pinpricks of building pleasure. Jimin’s cock pounds into you harder, hands grasping, breath mingling as you come undone.

Gasping his name, you clutch him tight as your pleasure explodes. Jimin coaxes you through it, keeping his fingers on your clit to ride out the tremors. Once you’re slumped, fully sated, Jimin releases the hold he had on himself. Nearly withdrawing, Jimin slams his cock forward to fill your still-spasming cunt.

You cry out, thighs widening as he lets you have it. Fucking you with full abandon, Jimin hammers your g-spot in a punishing manner. Nearly as swift as the fall, you feel your climax building. This time, your body feels beyond your control, practically weightless beneath the force of his cock in your pussy. It’s all you can do to stay conscious when another orgasm rolls through you.

Jimin groans when you come, feeling your walls flutter around his thick cock. Burying his face in your neck, Jimin thrusts deeper to release. Clasped tightly around him, you feel the warm pulse as he fills the condom. Bittersweet, you wish this wasn’t there, so he could play with his slick. Breathless and panting, the two of you lie there until Jimin withdraws.

Gathering his strength, he sits back on his heels. Removing the condom, Jimin ties this in a knot and tosses it in the trash. When he heads for the bathroom, you stretch out both arms, feeling limp.

And happy.

By the time you and Jimin trade places, your eyelids are drooping. Exiting the bathroom, you find the lights off and Jimin already in bed. You attempt to grab his t-shirt from the floor and are met with a loud throat clear.

“What are you doing?” Jimin huffs.

Straightening, you find him already in bed, the sheets pulled down beside him. Jimin looks pointedly at that side, then at you.

“I was trying to wear your t-shirt to bed,” you say, slipping between the sheets to face him. “It’s Christmas Eve, I’ll have you know. December in Washington. Brr.”

Moving closer, Jimin slips an arm over your waist. “There,” he murmurs, pulling you towards him. “Use me to warm up.”

For this, you have no retort. In the back of your mind, a voice whispers you should talk to him, that there are important things to discuss, but everything fades in the warmth of his arms. Eyelids so heavy, you can barely keep them open, you fall asleep.

For the first time in months, you sleep through the night.

You wake the next morning with a start.

Eyes wide, you stare at the wall and feel Jimin’s arm on your waist. Rather than joy though, panic claws at your throat. There were so many things you should have asked him last night. So many things you should have said instead of immediately falling into bed with your ex.

As quietly as possible, you slip free of his arm and stand from the bed. Grasping a sweatshirt and jeans, you tiptoe down the hall to swiftly get dressed. Gripping the bathroom counter, you stare at yourself in the mirror and try to sort through your feelings. Twice, you pull out your phone only to hesitate, setting it down.

Today is Christmas, meaning Namjoon and Yoongi will be with their families. Dr. Germain, your therapist, is on vacation, although you know she would respond to an emergency. This could hardly be considered an emergency, though. This is just you, acting rashly and – your heart sinks, knowing this was exactly the opposite.

You want Jimin. You’ve wanted Jimin since the night you broke up, but were so near-sighted last night, you didn’t stop to ask if he wants the same. Abruptly, you turn and open the door to the hall. Heading downstairs, you sort through the facts.

Jimin apologized for this fall. He said he regretted not staying. He said he thinks of you often, and that he hadn’t been with anyone else. If this were last year, you might read between the lines and assume he still wanted you. This isn’t last year, though. Current you has experience with expecting Jimin to do one thing, and he does another.

Dragging a hand down your face, you stop by the kitchen for coffee. The only way you’ll be able to sort through this before opening presents is with massive amounts of caffeine.

Gazing outside, you see freshly fallen snow and wonder if it’d be crazy to go for a walk. Once your coffee is full, you pad down the hallway and slip on your boots. Your coat is halfway zipped when a throat clears behind you.

Whirling around, you nearly drop the mug as Jisoo appears.

“Oh my god,” you blurt, one hand on your chest. “You scared me. I didn’t realize anyone else was awake yet.”

“Are you kidding me?” she laughs, walking closer with her own mug. “Two three-year-old daughters on Christmas? They’ve been up since the crack of dawn.”

Nervous, you laugh as your hand falls. “Ah, right. Is Hoseok keeping them in their rooms?”

Jisoo shakes her head, coming to a stop. “They fell back asleep – Hoseok, too.” Curious, she glances past you at the door. “Going for a… walk?”

“Thinking about it.”

“It’s below freezing.”

“Yeah. I thought it might help… clear my mind.”

Her brows furrow, pensive enough that you nearly curse. You couldn’t be more obvious that you and Jimin are having trouble. There’s no other reason to be up this early, trying to escape into the wilderness rather than face your ex.

Plaintive, she takes a sip of her coffee. “You know, I know you two are broken up.”

Well, fuck. Someone will have to scrape your jaw from the floor. Stunned, you stare as Jimin’s sister takes another long sip of coffee.

Seeing your face, Jisoo steps closer. “You stopped talking in the group chat,” she explains softly, patting your arm. “And Jimin… well, he seems slightly better now, but we all saw how he was after the injury.”

“I don’t… we, we’re not,” you fumble, the words dying.

“It’s okay. I get why you didn’t want to tell us. Why he didn’t want to tell us.”

At this point, it’s too late to make any denial. Jisoo has already seen the truth in your face. You suppose the important part is she hasn’t told their parents – although part of you wonders if his mom knows, as well.

“It’s been a long year,” you admit finally, your voice cracking.

“Oh, Y/N.” Setting down her mug, Jisoo pulls you into her arms. “There, there,” she exhales, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry I brought that up. I just thought… well, I thought you might want to talk to someone not my brother.”

“Thanks,” you whisper.

Patting your arm, she pulls back. “So, do you? Want to talk?”

“I…” You trail off. “It’s complicated. We broke up last September, but Jimin asked if I’d help him break the news of his contract to your parents. Things have been different this weekend, but I don’t know if Jimin is on the same page as I am. I want to get back together, but… he’s the one who asked to break up.”

Jisoo’s eyes fill with sympathy. “You should talk to him.”

“I know,” you exhale. “I know, and I will. I just… I can’t stop thinking about the last time we had a serious conversation. How badly that went.”

Understanding crosses her face. “I get that, I do.”

“He seems different. But it’s only been three months. Jimin is playing hockey so well – he seems to have his shit together, and I’m just a mess. What if I want to get back together, and he says no? Maybe this whole thing – the holidays, the hot chocolate – was just a way to say goodbye.”

Jisoo’s gives you a look. “Y/N. Listen to me – I know my brother. I knew within two seconds that you’d broken up. And I’m equally certain he still loves you – partly because my husband is a terrible secret keeper.” She shakes her head. “Apparently, Jimin asked for Hoseok’s help to win you back.”

You blink. “That… that can’t possibly be –”

Footsteps clatter downstairs, and you both turn your heads.

“Y/N,” Jimin blurts, slipping a little. His sweatpants are only half on, hopping wildly to avoid Hana’s toy on the landing. “Thank god. I thought you left,” he admits, rushing forward to grab both your arms.

Jisoo pointedly clears her throat.

Jimin glances sideways, then does a double take. “Have you been there the whole time?”

Rolling her eyes, Jisoo grabs her coffee and turns. “Merry Christmas, Jimin. Go and make up with your girlfriend.”

He watches her leave, then shakes his head, and looks back. “Are you okay?” he breathes, scanning your frame. “I woke up and you were gone. I thought…”

Putting two and two together, your eyes widen. “You thought I left.”

Jimin seems a bit queasy, but he manages to nod.

Taking another step closer, you grip his elbows. “Jimin, no,” you say. “My suitcase was still there. Didn’t you see?”

“Oh.” He blinks. “I didn’t notice.”

Oddly enough, his panic gives you the courage to speak. “I wasn’t leaving. I just wanted a walk. You know… clear my head. Think about what happened last night.”

“Are you… having second thoughts?”

“Second thoughts?” you say in disbelief. “Jimin, we never discussed a first thought. You weren’t clear about what you wanted.”

“I wasn’t clear?” His brow furrows. “Y/N, I said I didn’t want anyone but you. That you were the only person for me. I apologized for September and said that I’m trying to change. What else could I have meant?”

Your heart hammers against your ribcage, but you push on. “I know,” you admit, voice catching. “It’s just… well, I thought I knew what you’d say in September, and I turned out to be wrong. I was scared, and I asked for a break, but you agreed.”

Sudden understanding dawns on his features. Jimin’s hands slide up your arms to cup your face, his gaze gentle.

“Y/N, no,” he murmurs. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have left. I just… didn’t want to hear what you were saying, which was that our relationship had problems. You wanted to fix those problems, and I ran away. I’m not running now, though.” Determination flickers in his gaze. “Y/N, I want to stay. Whether that’s as your boyfriend, fiancée, husband, or something else entirely – I don’t care. I just want you.”

Hearing him say this, your heart swells. Unbearable lightness spreads through you, and you take a step closer. Jimin pulls you against him, hands finding your back as he lowers his head.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he murmurs. “I should have been clearer last night. I was, uh, a little distracted.” Jimin huffs out a laugh.

“I’m sorry you woke up and found me gone,” you whisper, tightening your grip. “I just… didn’t want to assume, and I was scared.”

Jimin shakes his head. “It’s not assuming, Y/N. I love you. I never stopped loving you. And I will never stop,” he adds. “So, you might as well get used to this.”

“I never stopped loving you, either. I –”

Jimin cuts you off, crushing your mouth to his. Bending at the knees, he lifts you over one shoulder and heads for the stairs. You yelp, smacking his shoulder but Jimin doesn’t stop.

“Jimin,” you laugh. “It’s Christmas! We should –”

“Celebrate our relationship at least once before everyone else gets up? Yes, agreed.”

Breath catching, you briskly nod. “Yes, yes. Good point. That.”

Laughter rumbles in his chest, carrying you down the hall and for the rest of the morning – until the twins bang on your door – you lose yourself in blissful certainty. Jimin is yours, and you’re his.

With no end in sight.

Seated beside you on the loveseat, Jimin plays with your fingers, entwined in his lap. With his other arm, Jimin brings you closer to brush a kiss to your temple.

Smiling, you face him. “What’re you doing, Mr. Park?” you lowly scold. “You do know we’re not alone, right?”

Jimin lowers his nose to your hair. “More’s the pity,” he murmurs.

Heat flushes through you, but he sits back in his seat. The Christmas Eve party this year is at the ski lodge again, and all of his friends have gathered in the same spot. Tonight though, you sit beside him with a ring on your finger. Jimin barely made it to the playoffs before he proposed.

Thumb brushing over the stone in the center, Jimin can’t help but smile. From far across the room comes the sound of Jungkook booing.

“We get it,” he calls, hands cupped over his mouth. “You two are disgustingly happy. Get a room, why don’t you?”

“We will,” you call back, snuggling into Jimin’s side. “Later.”

Seokjin laughs and elbows Jungkook’s ribs. “You’re only annoyed because you’re the only single guy left.”

Jungkook pouts and sits back. “True. What’s that all about? Why’d you have to bring a super cool, amazing date to the party this year?”

Seokjin’s date, Nova, laughs. “Thanks? I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” Jungkook nods, then faces you and Jimin. “But seriously, you two seem very happy and I’m glad for you both.”

Jimin blinks. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” Jungkook casually crosses his arms. “Your current level of happiness will make it all the sweeter when I kick your ass in the playoffs this year, Park.”

When you snort-laugh, Jimin gives you a look. Said look makes you squirm against him on the sofa, though no one else seems to notice.

“Yeah.” Drily, Jimin looks at Jungkook. “Because that worked out so well for you last year.”

“Ohhh,” Hoseok calls, entering the room with Jisoo on his arm. She’s noticeably pregnant, with a due date next month. “He got you there, Kook. Remember when you lost and now, you and Jimin are tied for Stanley Cup wins?”

Jungkook stares at him blankly. “Hm, no. Don’t recall.”

The entire room laughs, conversation shifting to topics other than the NHL. Squeezing Jimin’s thigh, you snuggle closer and rest your head on his shoulder.

“I am, though,” he murmurs.

You glance upward. “You are what?”

“Happy.” Jimin meets your gaze. “Happy you gave me a second chance. Happy to choose you, again and again.”

Breath hitching, your fingers tighten in his. “Easiest choice I’ve ever made.”

#bangtanarmynet #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin smut #bts smut #jimin fic #bts fic #jimin au #bts au

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lizzy06 · 3 months ago

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Takami Keigo(Hawks) x Reader Fic Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

lay low (take it slow) ✨by @andypantsx3/andypantsx3(college student! reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut) What even was the right google search for this situation? How do I sew someone back together without passing out? How do I not barf on the pro hero I’m stitching up? Or, Hawks’ game of double agent lands him in the shaky hands of one (1) very unequipped English major.[COMPLETED]

Falling for You ✨by @flannel-cladpika (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)Every year, on your birthdays, you two will switch quirks.[COMPLETED]

Golden ✨by @meganshinsou-tm (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) When you touch yoursoulmate for the first time a thin gold line with be etched around your wrists.

Soul Chicken by @hitsuackerman (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) Soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate says to you are written on your wrist and while Hawks has an absolutely unhelpful phrase written on them, y/n has something….unique.

Bird Hunting | Pt.2:Bird's Nest✨ by @a-n-conrad (oneshot, soulmate au)In a world where your soulmate was found through a symbol appearing on your left forearm, hinting at the quirk of your soulmate, you had to admit that you were lucky. You already knew who your soulmate was. The only issue was that there was really no way for you, an ordinary person, to get anywhere near the number 2 hero.

Petals and Feather✨ by @a-n-conrad(oneshot, hanahaki au, angst with happy ending) You’ve finally gotten a job as a sidekick after graduating from UA about a year before. But after working with Hawks for a few months it starts to get a bit hard to breathe. How are you supposed to fix a case of Hanahaki disease when you happened to fall in love with the most emotionally unavailable hero alive? [COMPLETED]

BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 4: Save Your Soul by @writing-freak (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)part of soulmate au week; everyone has colorful marks on their skin where their soulmate touches them for the first time. you’re determined to hide your soulmarks: a pair of hands on your waist.[COMPLETED]

“you really have got nothing to do on a friday night” by @bakugohoex (oneshot, fluff)in which your friend keigo invites you to a pro hero event as his plus one, the event leads to a lot more than you expected.[COMPLETED]

Little Moments by @bnhascribbles (oneshot, fluff)Just Hawk's early morning visit.[COMPLETED]

lavender latte✨ by luxdeoro (coffee shop au, fluff, mutual pinning)You serve Hawks a lavender, oat milk latte. Not only is he hooked on your drinks, but he's hooked on you as well.[ONGOING]

a spoonful of sugar✨✨ by Mossful (fluff, angst) In which the Reader bakes and Hawks eats.[COMPLETED]

Pocket Full of Feathers✨ by forthesanityof1 (fluff, humor) You are an investigative journalist starting at a new agency. A chance meeting brings you and Hawks together and starts some odd behaviors on his part. You dismiss it, but end up meeting the hero again and again over time. Slowly, you start to realize things are occurring both within and outside of your control.[COMPLETED]

(Quirk)y Days✨✨ by wotefokizbrunch(fluff, angst, hurt/comfort) In a world where 80% of the population has some wacky power, it is expected for strange shit to happen on accident, or even on purpose, like that one time a villain hit Hawks with a deaging quirk; he left that morning for work his grown ass self and then you had to pick his 5-year-old-self up from the agency.[COMPLETED]

and i've gotta crow ✨by dashielldeveron(enemies to lovers, ) “We’re engaged to be married.” No, you are not. After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?[COMPLETED]

Color Blind✨ by HeroAssociation(soulmate au, fluff, angst with happy ending) Takami Keigo, otherwise known as the Winged Hero Hawks, had one such mark. He never expected, nor looked for, the person that would change it. Then he found you by accident.[COMPLETED]

The Harpy by romanceisdeadbutimnot(enemies to lovers, fantasy au, fluff) Desperate for adventure you volunteer to check the monster traps protecting your small village. To your surprise you catch a wounded half bird half man, and decide to nurse him back to health.[COMPLETED]

What's Got Your Feathers In A Bunch? by darkenedniqhts(oneshot, fluff, humor)When Hawks saves you from a villain attack, you hit it off surprisingly well, considering the circumstances. Everything is going great, until he meets your roommate.[COMPLETED]

Compelling/tumblr by @bnhascribbles/ ScatteredScribbles(oneshot, hurt/comfort) Hey listen, I’ve got a lot of baggage when it comes to my quirk. Could you repeat the word “yes” if you’re here of your own free will? Oh, and since you’ll probably say that either way and since I’m an emotionally compromised freak, just know that I’ll never actually feel secure in our relationship. This’ll definitely be a recurring thing, and it’s probably gonna be the reason why we end terribly.[COMPLETED]

Blush by @flannel-cladpika (oneshot, fluff)[COMPLETED]

Headlines✨ by @bnhascribbles(oneshot, fluff) Holding up the newspaper in plain view, you take steady, ominous steps towards his desk. “Any last words, birdbrain?”[COMPLETED]

Stuck In An Elavator With You by @yeahimaloser (oneshot, fluff)he hadn’t really dated anyone before (not seriously anyway), so when he began to develop feelings for a certain someone, he was surprised, to say the least.[COMPLETED]

The Sky is Everywhere by @dira333/Fogfire(oneshot, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending)Post-Break up is before the Break up…[COMPLETED]

Sometime Around Midnight✨ by 0weCrew(friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending) All you wanted to do was enjoy a quiet night looking up at the stars. But fate decided to mess with you instead, and Japan's favorite birdbrain crashed your pity party of one by scaring you shitless.[COMPLETED]

Preening✨ by royalwilds(oneshot, fluff)Hawks loves your hair, playing with it, brushing it, washing it. you realize that it comes from another instinctual nature of his. You try to figure out how to return the gesture.[COMPLETED]

Babybird by Pomenocti(oneshot, fluff)Just Hawks being a dad.[COMPLETED]

Crash✨ by ivan_glee(oneshot, fluff)In which Reader is sunbathing and gets an unexpected visit from the No. 2 hero.[COMPLETED]

A Lungful of Smoke✨ by UnluckyAmulet(oneshot, fluff) As if nearly dying today wasn't bad enough…now you have a crush, too. Damn it.[COMPLETED]

Little Bird by alaskasmonsters(oneshot, fluff) Hawks wasn’t just the charming number two pro-hero the world knew him as. No, he had other sides to him, sides only you, his roommate, had the privilege to uncover. Especially his more birdlike quirks. Like how much he relaxed when people took care of his wings…[COMPLETED]

crawl home to me✨ by Hawnks (supermintfluff)(oneshot, strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort) What is a hero besides determination and hunger? What is a lover if not a resting place?[COMPLETED]

Shiny Things by royalwilds(oneshot, fluff) Hawks has more bird-like tendencies than you initially thought. He likes to present you with odd items as gifts and finally you figure out why.[COMPLETED]

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery by galatiq(oneshot, fluff, humor. coffee shop au) When you put a coffee shop and a nasty storm together, apparently you get Big Bird from Sesame Street crashing into your window. [COMPLETED]

Flowers, Wings, Smirks and Quirks (Ingredients for Love) by ENDisI (oneshot, angst with happy ending, hanahaki disease au) Why was it when you joked about Hanahaki not being real, fate just slaps you awake and tells you "Oh, it's true. You didn't know?" [COMPLETED]

i am your salvation✨ by luxdeoro(oneshot, angst, hurt/comfort) Keigo loses his wings and most of himself, and you're around to try and pick up the pieces.[COMPLETED]

Balcony by RyeTarts(friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut<18+>) After saving you from an office building fire, Hawks thinks that your paths were no longer intertwined. Oh how wrong he would be.[COMPLETED]

Birds Of A Feather by CheerieCherrie(fluff, explicit skippable chp.6) You move to Japan for a change of pace in your hectic life. It doesn't happen, thanks to one chaotic bird man.[COMPLETED]

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carmyberzattosjournal · 1 month ago

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Entry 23: You Needed The Bear

GIF by: @hotch-girl

Bearblr Promptober Day 23: Dacryphilia

Summary: Carmy's has learned he likes seeing his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) cry when he makes her feel good enough. Smut.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of trauma, fem reader who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, finger sucking, oral sex (m receiving), Darling wants to choke on him, sir kink, Dom!Carmy, hair pulling (2203 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

23 Oct 2024

She tears up when she gets worked up enough.

It’s not even that hard to do. It’s funny how I didn’t even notice how easily I fucked her up; I was so wrapped up in my own head that the smallest amount of relief from that tangle of shorted cords meant that the world shifted abruptly. I liked finding the little things that were different. The things I didn’t notice before. Felt like I was in a new world.

Anyway, she’s not that hard to fuck up.

She’s not that hard to fuck up to tears.

And I’d say it’s a little unfortunate that I’m addicted to watching her get so wound up that she bursts into tears, but it’s a power trip knowing I’ve made her feel so good that the only way her body can respond is by making her cry.

She’s also a slightly different person now. Relaxed. Less careful. Fuck me, she was so fucking careful with me for so long, it must’ve been exhausting. I was determined to make her patience worthwhile in every way possible. And if that meant being the rock while she melted from having to hold it together at the hospital all day on her bad evenings, then I’d do everything in my power to be just that.

So, she sat in my lap, straddling my waist, hunting for kisses along my throat and jaw until finally planting a small one at the corner of my mouth.

“Carmy?” she whispered.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can you make me feel good? Work was awful, I just… I just wanna feel good.”

We are supposed to talk about these kinds of things. It’s an unspoken rule between us, that we talk when either of us are neck-deep; she wears her stress more gracefully than I do, but it doesn’t mean she’s bulletproof. She is just as prone to burying shit under keeping herself busy—crochet, sewing with her friends, busying herself in deciphering me. Caring for me. If I am going to talk to her, then she is going to talk to me.

She drummed her fingers on my chest to get my attention. “Please? Please, sweetheart?”

I squeezed her thighs, also to get her attention. “You don’t wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head, whined her next sentence. “Later? Can we talk later?” She slid a hand up and tugged on my hair, a gesture more out of impatience than anything else. “Please?”

It takes a few seconds for the switch to flip. For me to go from the usual wreck of a person that I am to the one who destroys her in minutes, tops. Being mentally prepared for it ahead of time helps a lot, but I can manage a quick switch every once in a while, as the situation demands. So, I was my usual self when I finger-combed through her hair, swept it out of her face. But when I tensioned a fistful of it and traced her lips with my fingertip, I was the other one.

“Open,” I murmured.

She obeyed immediately. Her eyes fluttered closed and a moan escaped her throat when I pressed two fingers to her tongue.

“Suck.”

She enclosed her lips around my fingers and hollowed her cheeks, tracing her tongue over the digits. She held my wrist and forearm while she bobbed her head up and down their length, traced her thumb along the tendons, the scars, the tattoos that she memorized. She made a discontented noise when I adjusted for my back, holding my arm tighter so I couldn’t pull away. It was cute.

“I’m not taking ‘em away, cutie,” I reassured her. “Look at me, hm?”

She squeezed her eyes closed tighter.

I tightened my grip in her hair and repeated, firmer, “Look at me.”

She met my gaze for a few seconds, then looked away.

Oh? “You wanna keep feeling good, princess?”

She held tighter and sucked my fingers deeper into her mouth. That’d be a yes.

“Then you better listen. Look at me.”

She did, and within seconds, her face started flooding fuchsia. Her cheeks, the tip of her nose, the tips of her ears, her neck—all started going pink. Her movements lost their fluidity. Her thumb trembled as it traced the pulse in my wrist.

“Good girl. Keep looking at me. I wanna see your pretty eyes.” Her blush deepened further. Breathing quickened. “Want more?”

She whimpered a pathetic sort of sound in the back of her throat.

“That’s not an answer.”

She gave me a jerky nod. I added my ring finger, and her eyes threatened to flutter closed again.

“Keep looking at me, baby girl.” She did. And now her face and neck were red and hot to the touch. “Good girl.”

Her eyes went glassy, and tears pooled at her eyelashes. Her grip on my arm was bruising, trembling, causing these shooting pains up into my elbow, but fuck if I wasn’t enthralled by those gorgeous eyes, by her being so ruined by just looking at me that she’d begun to cry. I gently pressed down on her tongue, and her eyes snapped shut, sending black-tinted tears down her cheeks. She immediately blinked them back open, hooked her hand in my shirt neckline in a wordless effort to both apologize and beg me to continue.

“Aw, that’s okay sweetheart. It’s just too much for you, huh?”

She hesitated, but then gave me the tiniest nod.

“What do you say to something a bit bigger, hm?”

She grabbed my shirt now and pulled. Yes, Carmen, please.

I slowly removed my fingers from her mouth. “Go ahead. Good girl.”

She slid off my lap onto the floor and fumbled with my jeans. I had to help her get my dick free, but the instant I did, she took the head into her mouth, and I fucking swear to God, she almost fucking ruined me. Her mouth was so hot, so wet, she was so eager to flick her tongue over the slit and hum and dig her nails into my thighs.

“Fucking hell, baby girl… you really need me, huh?”

She nodded, pulled off just enough to whisper, “I wanna choke on you,” and then took me back into her mouth.

A searing wave of arousal washed over me.

Excuse the fuck outta me?

“You wanna what?”

She hummed. The fuck did that mean?

I gripped a fistful of her hair to get her to look up at me. “I asked you a question.”

Her cheeks flushed red again. Eyes went glassy. She was still just mouthing at the head, running her tongue maddeningly over and around it. She seemed reluctant to pull off or repeat what she’d said, but the heat in my core burned hotter. If she wasn’t about to clarify, I was going to make her choke on me anyway.

She let my dick fall from her mouth when I tightened my grip even further.

“I-I wanna ch-choke on your dick, sir,” she whimpered. “Please? Please fuck my throat? I’ll-I’ll tap three times if I need you to stop.” She did the motion on my thigh.

Something otherworldly possessed me then. I’m not a rough lover—at least, I wasn’t, not until I met Darling. It’s not that I didn’t want to be—I wanted, pretty much from the jump for what I can remember of being a hormonal teenager, to be rough with someone. I wanted to pull hair, bite, scratch, choke, I wanted to feel powerful and in control of something, be allowed to act on the barely contained insanity, that beast that festered just under the terrified, stuttering kid. Half of the reason I was called Bear was because of the last name—Berzatto. The other half?

The other half is why I ended up in wrestling to begin with. Just somewhere to put violent energy that was structured and safe enough not to land me a prison sentence. Or at least, that was my experience. I was very much two sides of the same coin, but the only time I saw that other side represented was in horrible circumstances—so I learned to associate the need to be rough with something bad, vile, despicable, wrong. Darling was safe. She showed me ways to remain safe while still being able to act on those deep-seated impulses tattooed on my bones. She didn’t quite flip a switch in me so much as give me access to a switch I could flip myself. She was safe. She is safe.

Darling took me back into her mouth, but this time all the way to the back of her throat. Her eyes watered, but she kept at it, going slowly, giving me time to think. She wanted to choke on my dick, huh? You wanna choke on me? Need to feel so powerless and used like a fucktoy, do you? Need that cute little brain to take a backseat to raw, unadulterated pleasure for a little while the only way I know how to give you? Okay. Okay, baby girl.

I wove both hands in her hair and started fucking deeper into her throat. Her eyes rolled back. Tears spilled down her cheeks when she squeezed them shut.

“Like that, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl.

Didn’t plan it. Came out of nowhere. But both of us clearly liked it based on how it imprinted on my gray matter and the unrestrained, half-muffled, half-strangled, high-pitched whine she let out. She squeezed a fistful of my jeans with one hand, held my wrist loosely with the other.

Pretty girl. This is just what you needed huh? Me fucking your throat relentlessly while your eyes roll back, and you forget everything else that exists on this planet.

You needed The Bear tonight.

She snuck her hands under my shirt, traced the lines of my abdomen. It was as if she couldn’t gather enough coherence to do anything meaningful, but she wanted to get her hands on me. I moved her further off, almost all the way off, to give her jaw a bit of a break, but she quickly gripped at my hips, dug her fingernails into me, and whined loud enough that the corner neighbor definitely would’ve heard.

“Shhh, easy pretty girl.” I pet her face, brought her back down on my dick.

She hummed. Went right back to hollowing her cheeks and made another whiny sound until I started fucking her throat again. Then she settled down, eyes closed, bliss on her face despite the streaks of gray.

I couldn’t resist chuckling. “Oh, is it that good, pretty girl?”

She nodded.

“Just need to be fucked like a toy, do you?” What was I saying? Did I really just say that? “Used up like the pretty thing you are, huh?”

“Mmhm.” She nodded more emphatically this time, planted a hand on my sternum, turned those gorgeous, glassy eyes up to me. The sight seared into my memory. Fuck me, pretty girl. A look like that oughtta be illegal. Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you. I’ll make you forget all your worries, all the bad things that happened today.

I’ll fucking destroy you, and you will just come crawling back for more. You’re going to work with some fucking marks tomorrow; I’ll trade you a lipstick print, how about that, hm? How about Monique learn that you’re getting taken care of, and I’ll tell Richie to fuck off when he learns the same about me? Fuck this world, Darling, baby girl, pretty girl, I got shit to say to it about how it treated me, and I’ll start with showing it that you’re mine and I’m yours.

“Now be a good girl and choke on me.”

She obeyed, taking me further into her throat. Her throat spasmed around my dick—this fucking delirious tightness that pushed me abruptly over the edge of the orgasm I was teetering on. Heat exploded through my chest and up into my face, I couldn’t get air in fast enough, my head spun and swam and buzzed, my abdomen stung with the force of my core contracting. She gripped fistfuls of my jeans, then pushed against my hip, then pulled back just enough to let her swallow. Then the wave of cold set in. The merciful, blissful, benevolent wave of cold that started at my shoulders and washed down me like a Fall rain, taking with it all the tension I didn’t realize I’d been carrying up until then. My head dropped against the back of the couch. Hands went limp in her hair. Eyes refused to stay open.

Darling pulled off me slowly. Nuzzled my hand, kissed my palm.

“Come’ere,” I mumbled.

She climbed back into my lap and hunted for kisses again. I gave them willingly, now boneless, powerless to resist her in any capacity. The Bear’s been sated, princess, do what you want to me. I’m yours. I belong to you.

“What does my pretty girl want, hm?”

She kissed my neck just under the hinge of my jaw. Her voice was hoarse, more a crackly whisper than her normal speaking tone. “Eat me out? Three fingers?”

Anything, my love.

#cb journal #bearblrpromptober #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #the bear #carmen berzatto smut #carmy smut #carmy berzatto smut #I've been cookin y'all

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brights-place · 11 months ago

Note

Clay x sassy fem! Reader Nsfw and sfw headcannons?

When I say sassy I mean she’s bold, straight forward, annoyed easily and other stuff. She’s strong headed and doesn’t take no for a answer type of sassy, and maybe bratty during sex too👀…

Clay with an sassy S/O

Pairings: Clay X Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Smut and NSFW content MDNI! A/N: These are for those freaky people and clay simps I'm talking about me aswell yall... I love clay so much AHEM! Anyways I'm not gonna be on tumblr for alot cause yk Im prepping for some stuff for the next couple of weeks!

SFW

- You being sassy is so entertaining for him

- You being straight forward and bland makes him snicker especially when Viva tries to do something dumb with the two of you when hanging out You'd be most of the time voice of reason and clay also being an voice of reason for an slight amount before giving in so you are one who has to take control

- Loves how you can be bratty and rude towards people but can melt in his hands easily if he praises you for the smallest things

- When you get annoyed he soothes you easily by placing an hand on your arm or shoulder

- You two would be an power duo for work situations and just for your personal life - he tangles your and his hair and tail together as he tries to hold you back from going to insult or punch someone cause they talked smack about Clay and Viva (I headcannon they have tails, claws, fangs and paws cause its so cute)

- He loves when seeing you stand up for other trolls when needed and was so determined to make all putt putt trolls safe!

-he pretends that he hates when you act out and get pissed but secretly he loves when you're a brat and enjoys the sight

- He loves how bold and straight forward yet sassy you are but you are so different in bed (NEHEHHEHEHEHE *gremlin noises*)

NSFW

- OHOHOHOHO I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS

- He could be rough some days and soft on others it depends how you act but since your sassy and bratty he snickers. - When he was trying to work once you kept touching him groaning and whining about wanting him - When he said no to not letting in cause he was busy with work you literally left for an moment before appearing under his desk smirking up at him

- Clay wouldn’t admit it but when your bratty he enjoys it so much cause he can make you submit to him later on after he fucks the brains out of you

- When your being bratty and whine he likes to put you in your place

- biting hard and leaving hickeys as he grips onto your waist and thighs a bunch of times, whispering praises and degrading words against your ear

- Loves how he makes you whine after you kept trying to fight back for dominance but failing and you end up hiccuping in pleasure

- Overstimulates you so much

- Teases you he would just slowly thrust in and out of you or tease the tip of your member as you beg for him for more and cling to him sobbing

- When you continue being sassy he enjoys it so much and likes to place you in different positions while tugging your hair back

- decided to Mirror fuck you to show how he makes you feel this good and that you should obey him more while your drooling and he leaves marks on your skin

- He loves having control when you are doing it so he likes stopping his movements on purpose just to hear you whine and beg for him to go back to railing you

- He can be very cold, teasing you just to rile you up to see if you don't follow the rules and try be more straight forward and bratty.

- Uses overstimulation as punishment will force orgasm after orgasm until you are crying, begging for him to stop obviously you still wanna continue it though.

- Loved how he made you switch up so fast from being an bratty sassy troll to an drooling submissive person with how easily he man handles you

- Amazing at aftercare and make sure you feel special

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2024 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 10 months ago

Text

staged but i've never watched it and i'm drunk

hello mascot good omens mascot here okay so THE STAGED LIVESTREAAM IS ON SATURDAY BTW. That is a thing that is happening. So. You know. If you're above 18 because @thescholarlystrumpet (and I ig) are responaible adults come and like. Join us. Watch me react to staged and probably die. i'Ll probably share details when I'm not drunk and when it's not nearing midnight.

But until then I'm drinking battery acid (this red wine cost like the equivalent of 2.5 USD) and I am here to summarise staged.

It's about David Tennant and Michael Sheen, who, until barely a month ago, I had no idea existed (we don't talk about Michael sneakily being in Twilight and Passengers I'm actually pretending the Twilight thing didn't happen pklease respect my denial)

It started over Zoom and it's about them rehearsing a play during COVID but like it's scripted so it's a show about rehearsing a play and it stars the actors as themselves very meta very fourth wall

David has hair extensions and Michael does not

David keeps switching locations because he has to quote Michael "twenty children" and they're everywhere. Because of this hellsite that's obsessed with David to an unhealthy level I know that this is not true, he has five children and I can probably give you details and how is this my life

Michael stays in the kitcehn and some watchers think this is a poetic choice it's not David just has to shift because humans are everywhere in his house

Georgia who is David's wife and Anna who is Michael's wife which I also know because of this hellsite both also star in it

They're all neighbours now by the way which this really creepy hellsite was DETERMINED that I know about okay thank you tumblr I'm uh that's knowledge for sure I'm sure they're having fun

Judi Dench is involved and I'm not sure who she is but she's a Dame and she's a very good actress and she's kinda intimoidating and also for some weird reason I associate her with that Cats nightmare fuel even though I didn't watch it but yeah she probably had nothing to do with it

There are three seasons and FOR SOME REAOSN EVERYONE IS CRYING AT THE END. WHY ARE YOU ALL ALWAYS CRYING WHY HAVE YOU DRAGGED ME INTO THE CRYING TOO I'M STILL CRYING OVER GOOD OMENS WHAT IS THIS NOW.

it's uh it's a comedy but I've realised now that in Britain comedy = will make you sob harder than a tragedy but will be more subtle and sneaky about it

god this wine tastes like shit i really need to make money so i can afford better alcohol. any suggestions, maggots? wait this is a summary not a life update

uhhhh the silhouette of one of david's kids appears in one of the episodes

that's all i've got i'm sorry time to go make more bad decisions I love you all byebyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee stay rotten

#good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #good omens fandom #maggots #staged #bbc staged #michael sheen #david tennant #georgia tennant #anna lundberg #welsh seduction machine #david and michael #why are these the tags tumblr is suggesting to me #fuck it i'm too drunk for this #staged livestream

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rosesloveletters · 1 year ago

Text

all is fair in love.

Pairing: 1971 Willy Wonka x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 10,261

Warnings: sexual content / smut.

Summary: The holidays are Wonka's busiest season and his work keeps him away from reader much more than either of them would like. After hours, the two spend a passionate night together as they both make the necessary arrangements to be attentive to each other's needs and empathetic of the complexity of maintaining a healthy romantic relationship that neither reader nor Wonka are accustomed to.

Author's Note: my smut fics are always between 6-10k haha so enjoy. I edited this the best I could, but for some reason I kept switching between first person and second person pov for reader (I don't know why since I always write in second person pov.) I think I fixed most of it, so if there's any parts I missed, I'm sorry. Also, I'd like to mention that Christmas isn't inherently important to the events in this story. It is used as an element only to convey why Wonka is so busy during this time of year, because most people like to buy chocolate and candy as gifts. I know Gene was Jewish, even though I believe he said he wasn't exactly religious. I have no intention of trying to be offensive/belittle/make light of anyone's religion or beliefs and I apologize if it comes across that way because it is without a doubt not my intention.

Edited.

divider created by @/saradika on Tumblr.

You’ve always believed that if you truly love someone, then you keep it a secret.

You would let that feeling freeze me down to the core – to love the way a person is meant to, but it is that same love that, inevitably and irrevocably, suffocates.

You cannot satisfy that craving the same way one might satisfy a sweet tooth. Once given a taste, it seeps down into your skin, infecting both body and mind, pierces the heart and tears it wide open.

The thundering beat inside your chest cannot be silenced. The fingertips of fate trace the spider-like, lightning-strike veins that split your heart right down the middle.

A broken heart takes love like a beating.

It all comes boiling to the surface, bubbling up and out in the breath of a second.

The truth always comes out, one way or another.

Because if you don’t let the heart have its’ way, then it will tear itself right out of your chest.

***

The days were short, but the hours were long.

You spent much of your time by yourself, as this season kept Willy preoccupied. Time marched onward and the weeks themselves seemed to drag; it was nearing Christmastime and that meant very little to you in the grand scheme of things, except that you’d be seeing less and less of your lover.

Traditionally, the holidays were a time of celebration and joy, gifts and laughter shared between friends and families alike.

However, you lived a nontraditional life now, and Willy had unwittingly shown you that the life of a chocolatier was a solitary one. You knew that the busy holiday season was what pulled him away, but his lack of attentiveness made you wonder…

The only thing that kept these thoughts at bay was the way in which he looked at you when he was around.

Willy was a difficult man to read. Whether that was intentional or not, were you still trying to determine. The only dead giveaway were his eyes – startlingly intense and piercingly blue – that bore no resemblance to subtlety.

The vastness of the heavens, it seemed, were contained within those swirling galaxies. On dark nights when the cloud cover was too thick, you traced the constellations in his eyes to guide you into his morning light.

You could see yourself peeling back the layers of his heart to get to the source of how he truly felt.

Deflect from it all he might – “I’m a trifle deaf in this ear. Speak a little louder next time–” you saw right through him and sometimes that only made him steer clear of you for longer.

It wasn’t that he did not care for you; it was quite the opposite. Perhaps the extent to which he cared was a bit overwhelming for him at times. He immersed himself in his work during these times, else his mind inevitably carried him to places he would rather not visit.

Willy Wonka’s mind was not a place any person, sometimes even himself, should ever go without a guide or a distinct way back.

Though anyone with half a brain could tell that the amazing chocolatier was a troubled man on occasion, his true nature shone through in his creations. Something about this season’s batch of chocolate was a touch sweeter than ones previous. It would go undetected by those who did not have a refined palate, but like the saying goes, a true artist would put their blood, sweat and tears into their work and Willy Wonka was a mastermind.

He knew exactly what he was doing and what he meant to convey, if only between himself and one other: the world’s most famous chocolatier was in love.

***

You sat on the plush sofa in the personal wing of the factory, a book in one hand and a mug of hot chocolate in the other. You were nestled beneath a thick-knit, purple blanket as you read and waited on Willy to return to your den for the night.

You saw less and less of him the closer it got to the holidays, but such was the nature of his business. Christmastime was one of the busiest seasons and the one in which he made most of his money (the second being Valentine’s Day.) People bought exorbitant amounts of candies and chocolate during the holidays and so Willy was forced to expedite production (though never sacrificing quality) and work long, difficult hours preparing new and exciting treats for the public. In fact, it was no well-kept secret that Willy Wonka unveiled his newest creations around this time of year and that very news was plastered in every newspaper, magazine and bulletin across the world as people anticipated the exciting, brand-new sweets there would be to try.

You knew the excitement and rush of the season fed into Willy’s own excitement over his work. He was thrilled to be working on new ideas and expressing himself through his creativity and imagination. It meant the world to him and so you did your best to stay out of the way. You did not want to make the situation about you and, after all, he always made it up to you.

He was aware that his absence bothered you and he tried not to think about the fact that he may or may not be doing irreparable damage to your relationship.

Not every difficult time or situation was an attack against you. It wasn’t personal, nor was it anyone’s explicit fault. Willy had a factory to run, Oompa-Loompas to manage and ideas to manifest into reality. Sometimes, your relationship would take a backseat and if you were serious about being with him, then you would have to be alright with that and you were, although that did not mean that it didn’t hurt from time to time.

It would have been nice to relax and enjoy the season with your lover without his work getting in the way. You would have loved to curl up with him, sitting at opposite ends of the couch and enjoying lots of hot chocolate and hours of warm conversation. If you had your pick, you’d gladly have him here with you now, trading the book in your hands for his warm body, his fingers linked perfectly into the spaces between yours.

You reasoned that this was just how things would have to be for now. No sense in adding more pressure on him by complaining. He was aware of how you felt, but sadly there was nothing to be done about it. You never would have dreamed of asking him to pick between his work and you. That would not have been fair or right. You could handle this, for now, but deep down you missed him terribly.

Even if you chose to spend time with him inside the factory part of the building, he would be working the whole time. There simply was no time for much of anything else. He did like when you would drop by because you were his faithful little taste-tester. Better to try it out on you before selling it to the masses – that would seem cruel, knowing that his candies have had certain negative effects on people in the past, but rest assured, Willy had never given you anything that might harm you.

Any candy which made its way to you had been tested and re-tested to perfection before it ever passed between your lips.

He wanted feedback on his candy before it left the factory and you were more than happy to offer it to him, to which he was enthusiastically grateful. The only problem was, true to inventor fashion, he asked for feedback on everything. He wanted your opinion and was asking for it increasingly often these days. When you didn’t show up to the inventing room on certain days, he’d bring a whole box back to your shared living space and eagerly watch you with anticipation of your positive remarks as you were asked to try every piece.

He was always so grateful to you for that and, honestly, you didn’t mind. You liked candy and chocolate, so there was no reason you couldn’t afford him this act of kindness.

The only thing you really felt like you were missing was him and it plagued your mind most often while you were alone, which was of course very often. You kept yourself busy and occupied your thoughts with other things as much as you were able, but when you settled in for the night, your loneliness crept in and took up the space beside you that would have otherwise been occupied by your beloved chocolatier.

You didn’t mind your alone time, but too much of it was not ideal.

Too much of a good thing came with a price and now it seemed you were paying it with interest.

The sound of a door opening and shutting pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced down at your book to realize you’d just had it propped open against your knees this whole time and hadn’t read a bit. You marked your place and closed it with a huff, setting it down on the end table beside you, your mug of half-drank cocoa with it.

A quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall – thank God he hadn’t cut that one in half – showed that it was ten minutes after midnight.

It did not come as a surprise that Willy was so late. It was only your wildest guess as to what he had been working on, but that point was moot. You did not really care what he was working on.

That thought seemed harsh and you frowned; no, you were adamantly against resenting him for his work. That path was one you would not let yourself go down, a trap of codependence, you told yourself, but why couldn’t he just be a little more present with you? Surely it wasn’t too much to ask.

Perhaps you would ask.

It would make the most sense to be upfront with him about how you were feeling and to be as direct as possible.

You did not move from the couch. You waited on Willy to come and find you, unlike the many days and nights when you might have greeted him at the door.

Several quiet moments passed between yourself and your thoughts before Willy entered the room. He had shed his purple coat at the door, as well as his hat and cane, “there you are, my dear,” his gentle tone made your stomach clench as warmth pooled in your abdomen. Even troubled with doubts, you were still delighted to see him.

You watched as he approached and dropped himself on the opposite end of the couch. He nudged your knee with his, silently asking for a bit more space which you politely gave, “I would have been back sooner, but I’ve been so busy, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Yes, it is that time of year,” you replied coolly. You didn’t want to jump into the meat of the discussion too soon, otherwise he might take offense where there was none.

He seemed in a good enough mood that perhaps this would be the perfect time to strike.

“Yes, my dear, it’s the holiday season which does wonders for my business and I couldn’t be happier.”

His pride in the work he was doing warmed your heart. You listened to him for a while as he recounted what he had been working on that day.

He cared so much and spoke so passionately, yet your mind began to wander.

“Is everything alright, my dear?”

His tender voice captured your attention and you blinked slowly, “yes, I’m fine. But, there is something I would like to talk to you about.”

His lips hitched into a faint smile, then flattened into a serious line. It bothered you, not being able to read his face.

“There is? Well, you know that you can always talk to me about anything on your mind.”

You didn’t want to overwhelm him, not when he was already so fully immersed within his work. He needed time and space to focus. He did not need you hindering his creative flow by hanging all over him and demanding more attention. He already gave so much; how could you even dare to think that he owed you more?

“I know you’re busy this time of year, but do you think it would be possible for us to spend a little more time together?” My voice cracked as I added, “I…really miss you, Willy.”

You hadn’t meant to speak with words that were laced with such pain, but in fairness you did miss him terribly. By the time he made his way to you most nights, you were already in bed or heading there and in the mornings before you’d woken up, he would be gone. It bothered you to not see him and you wanted him to hear it. He needed to know the truth if you meant to be honest with him, you only hoped he’d be able to understand that you didn’t blame him.

Conversations like this always made you second guess yourself.

By this point, you realized that he had not responded. He was probably just thinking about what he would say, but usually it didn’t take him this long to reply.

“Willy?” you gently urged him, reaching out to place your hand on his arm.

Whenever he felt the gentle graze of your fingertips against the fabric of his shirt, he glanced down, admiring the tender touch with a wistful smile on his face before he looked up at you and the emotion held inside of those ice-blue eyes was almost enough to send you over the edge and into uncontrollable sobs of relief.

You felt the tension in your shoulders beginning to dissipate. Good, he felt the same way.

He was still staring at you like there was something more on his mind. That was the way things were with Wonka and you’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t thought on more than one occasion that it’s a good thing you weren’t a mind reader because there were things that went on inside his head that should stay there. It was better that you didn’t try to trace his Machiavellian ways or make sense of the enigmatic man who so frequently surprised you with small glimpses into how he really thought and viewed the world. It was fun getting to know who he was, but the true wonderment was in not knowing him at all.

He tested your mind and all your senses, but never pushed your boundaries. He could knock you off your stride in seconds, then act as if nothing had happened. You were playing his little chess game and he was already three or more moves ahead. It had only been a matter of time before you had fallen into his hands like this.

Things were as they were because Wonka wanted them to be. His quips and wisecracks often went over people’s heads, especially because of how well-versed he was in literature and culture. He could make the whole world fall in love with him at once, then forget him as soon as they were no longer in his presence, but you believed the world adored him much more than he liked to think it did.

“I didn’t say anything sooner because I didn’t want it to seem like I was being insensitive, since I know you’re not intentionally ignoring me.”

This statement made him smile for some reason, “where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; where little fears grow great, great love grows there.” (William Shakespeare, Hamlet.)

At first, you didn’t know what to say. You had a bit of trouble discerning what he meant sometimes, missing the larger picture for deciding why he chose a specific quote at a specific time.

Seeming to read your thoughts, he let out a polite chuckle, “This is to say, even in love do the smallest doubts scare you, but when you are afraid of such little things, you are still in love, too.”

His explanation seemed to help, if only for a second.

It was true that you had your doubts, but those doubts only stemmed from love. That fear which grew inside of you had taken root, but when enough time had passed, it was the love which had bloomed from it.

Both the fear and love would come with a connection as strong as this one.

In the beginning, Willy had never dreamed of having a romantic partner. His solitary lifestyle simply lacked the means necessary to cultivate a long-term relationship. He had never desired romance or human connection of any kind. He had his factory and the Oompa-Loompas to look after; he was stretched thin as it was.

It was with sickening rapture that he sought the reason for why his heart seemed so content within your hands. He had to know the true meaning behind what he felt, even if he had to wade out in to the wild, dark depths up to his neck. He was barely treading water, sinking still, feet kicking desperately and hands reaching, clawing for purchase but there was nothing for him to grab onto. No way to steady himself as his soul careened toward what he had been running from for so long, a runaway train on the track towards trust and away from self-preservation.

At first, you wanted to be the one in control. You had your fair share of demons and setting the pace for the relationship yourself was very important to you, but neither of you wanted to go too far too fast.

You became acclimated to his world quite quickly.

You just seemed to fit right in and, with time, Wonka found himself closer to you than he had ever been with another person.

The two of you had been together for quite some time now and the red string of fate binding your hearts together was pulled taut.

It seemed that you both knew you were in the right hands and the love that grew here was stronger than any fears or doubts which gripped you.

“What scares me the most is that you’re pulling away from me,” you confessed to him, and that revelation made his eyes widen perceptibly, “sometimes I think you don’t even realize that you’re doing it.”

The conversation had shifted and Wonka realized that you were no longer just discussing his absence in light of the holidays. There was deeper emotion and meaning laced within what you were saying to him now.

He was used to being alone, as were you. The only difference was that while you had never lost hope that the right person might come along, he had done everything he could to close himself off. His heart was a precious thing and that was what the world had been after. Yes, he had closed his factory because of theft, but he put his whole heart into his work and, if anyone were to steal his heart, then there would be nothing left for the one whom it belonged to.

He made sure he guarded his heart all these years, even if he didn’t know the reason for it. It was easier to deny the very fact that love was something every person desires, even ones who have become so layered and complex that it would be difficult to imagine what a true love might look like for them.

Wonka was not afraid of anything.

However, if one thing made him apprehensive it was the idea of anyone finding him out.

Not that there was any chance of that; no one was able to think quite like him. But if anyone came close, that meant he’d cling to them forever, holding on for dear love.

His gaze shifted down to your hands that were folded in your lap and reached for one. Long, delicate fingers gently wrapping around your right hand as he brought it to his mouth.

A kiss for each finger, you counted, one two three four five…

Then, his lips made contact with your inner wrist. The sudden and unexpected brush of lips against your sensitive skin made your breath hitch.

“I promise to be more attentive,” he whispered on your skin, his hot breath tickling the inner area of your wrist, “the only one pulling me anywhere is you and I am only moving forward.”

“You’ve got to go forwards to go back.”

He had believed that, in more ways than just one, in relation to his factory and to people, but there was no going back now. Even if that were an opinion, he wouldn’t have wanted to.

Within half a second, he dropped your hand and tilted his head, leaned in close and pressed his warm lips to yours in the most sensual, tender kiss your lips had ever known.

Your heart fluttered in your chest like butterfly wings beating against your ribcage, desperate to free itself and get to his. Your soul sought the kind of connection that your mouths were getting and jealousy was an understatement.

If this was his way of making it up to you, then let it be known that you wanted nothing else for Christmas this year than a clear mind and the taste of your lover left over on your cupid’s bow.

It was all electric, body and soul alight, glistening brighter than fairy lights strung up for the season.

He tasted sweeter than his own candy and you smiled into the kiss at the very thought. He ate a lot of his own sweets, if only to test the taste, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the sugared kisses, your sweet tooth craving satisfied only by his honeyed lips.

Somewhere in the haze you found the opportunity to grip handfuls of his tawny tresses, fingers digging into the soft curls that drove your heart mad with desire. You loved his hair and so infrequently did he let you touch or comb it. It was about as unruly as he was, wild, untamed and free, just like the man it belonged to.

Your gentle tugging on his hair elicited a soft grunt from him and his lips attacked yours more feverishly, taking on a more aggressive quality now that you had accepted and encouraged him.

There was no rhyme or reason for anything that occurred while you were with him, except what was happening now.

Wonka did everything on a whim. Sleeping, eating, working…no schedule, no routine, no nonsense.

“A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.”

Perhaps the most nonsensical thing that had ever happened in Wonka’s factory was your fear that he might leave you.

Strike that. Don’t reverse it.

You didn’t want anything to change. There were more twists and turns in this man’s head than there were in his factory and you had lost yourself trying to find your way out. You never left his mind, not once. Even while he worked or spent time alone, you were in his thoughts, whether it was subconscious or not.

Your own mind didn’t register your movement as you crawled closer and sought out more of his sugary sweetness which was more potent than any nectar of the gods. Your lips devoured his, tasting every inch of the same mouth that poured prose and poetry into your ear each night that you laid with him.

He hummed pleasantly against your lips. His gentle sounds teased you; so rare was it that he ever made a sound during these moments of intimacy. Oh, how you tried, and your futile attempts filled him with great satisfaction. He had more discipline than you ever imagined; living alone for so many years without the warmth of another had taught him to go without, but desperation clung to his bones and manifested through each fervent, heated kiss.

Willy wouldn’t have described himself as needy, but he appreciated physical intimacy when it occurred and sometimes it was as necessary as any other proper communication. He wanted more than a quick romp; he craved human connection. It was completely unfounded for someone like him to want to share a connection with anyone, but here he was asking for it with his mouth on yours and your reciprocation of that same need meant everything to him.

You tested the waters, grazing your teeth along his bottom lip to determine how far he might be willing to go. He didn’t stop you. His lips simply parted, allowing entry of your tongue.

The only sound he made was a little gasp, which you swallowed as your tongue delved in to taste the inside of his mouth. Your hands were still holding the sides of his head, fingers buried deep within his unruly curls.

He helped maneuver your body closer to his, unabashedly bringing you to sit on his lap. As you settled on top of him, one of his large hands moved down to the small of your back and held you firmly in place.

You could feel the heat of his hand through your shirt. You had no grasp of how long the two of you continued to kiss like that. The passage of time, though a precious thing, was unimportant in the current moment. The only thing you demanded more of was him and you would greedily take all that he had to offer you.

You were enchanted by him. He surprised you at every turn and, if it had been anyone else, you’d have questioned where you stood with them, but wasn’t that the point? The less anyone knew about Willy Wonka, the more exciting it felt to be in his presence.

It was impossible to know whether the things he revealed about himself were true or not and there was beauty in that alone. If beauty was in the eye of the beholder, then he had the upper hand here.

You did not stop to see why his hand had suddenly been removed from your back, but any questions you might’ve wished to voice were answered when you noticed him reaching for one of the top buttons on his vest.

The steady progression of events had led you here and you were too immersed within the moment to stop him, but you wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. You were entranced, enthralled, enraptured by the whole of him and his heart belonged to yours.

The wet graze of your tongue against his cupid’s bow spurred him further, lips tangled tantalizingly with yours as his fingers worked open the buttons on his vest.

The threshold had been breached.

The moment was yours for the taking, if you wanted it and you knew that you did.

Lost somewhere between drunk on lust and in love, you began to help him unbutton, starting at the bottom of his vest and continuing until your hands met in the middle of his chest. You followed this same pattern for both rows of buttons.

Coincidentally, this journey ended right above his heart, but another one was merely beginning.

Your hands were shaking with anticipation as you looked up to notice him already gazing at you lovingly. A tender smile curved his lips like a crescent moon and the sunlight bleeding out through the cracks in your soul made the stars in his eyes sparkle.

You cupped his cheek and pressed a gentle kiss onto the bridge of his nose. His arms encircled you, holding you flush against him and his shirtsleeves rode up on his forearms, exposing just a fraction of skin with a fine dusting of sand-colored hair.

You let him hold you to him as his lips attached to your neck. You imagined when he pulled back that there would be an imprint of lips, a tattoo of his love painted across your collarbone, signifying that you belonged to him alone.

You tilted your head to give him better access and he thanked you by delivering a loving nip to the column of your neck.

You hadn’t forgotten your intention.

With hands still shaking, you reached for his vest and pulled it open. His lips detached from your neck in an instant and long, elegant fingers wrapped around your wrist, effectively stopping you from undressing him.

His eyes were crystalline pools of skylight, airy and substantially quantified by the depths within them. They had a mirror-like quality and you could see yourself reflected in them as you held his gaze for a heartbeat too long.

“Only if…this is something that we both want…”

Willy’s words of brevity filled you with wonder.

“If I’m being honest with you, Willy…I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more than I want you now.”

That single sentence melded with and fused into his soul. In a breath-to-breath admission of consent, your words had tied his tongue with cursive letters.

He breathed a sigh of relief and held within that exhale was his own consent. You had granted him permission, assuring him that you were not offering yourself out of obligation or for complacency’s sake and that thrilled him perhaps as much as the act itself would. He felt the blood rush to his groin and he moved beneath you, shifting your body weight more onto his thigh.

Willy nuzzled your cheek, dragging his nose along your soft skin. His arms had yet to unravel themselves from around you; he wanted to take his time. However, he was increasingly aware of his own sense of desperation. It had been some time since he had last gotten into bed with a lover.

Actually, the last time he had gotten into bed with anyone was with you.

Willy had a low sex drive, but on occasion it would crop up and remind him that he was, in fact, human and had needs, whether it was simple biology or heightened by the desire to connect with the one he loved.

Whenever he thought of a lover and what had previously been just some nameless face at the forefront of his mind, that vision was now you. Yours was the love he sought; your hands were the ones meant to hold his heart.

He let go of you and shrugged off his vest.

Your lips captured his once again and he imagined this was what dreams tasted like.

He went to stand up and you quickly took the hint and moved off his lap. He got up and began unbuttoning his white undershirt while you watched. He could see the fire burning in your irises, your pupils dilated with desire as you watched his delicate fingers pop open each button.

You knew better than to rush him; a treat as sweet as him was meant to be savored.

You took this opportunity to slip your own shirt off your body. With your skin exposed, his eyes traveled across your midsection and his fingers hesitated, fumbling the button he was on. His breath hitched and you swore you heard him whisper the word “beautiful” as he gazed upon you.

Once he had recovered, the swiftness with which he finished removing his undershirt made your head spin. In his haste, he had forgotten to remove his bow tie and unbutton his sleeve cuffs, which made you giggle. He seemed flustered, his cheeks reddening once he realized, and perhaps this was the first time you had ever witnessed him with a blush on his cheeks.

You reached out to help him and a soft chuckle dripped from his lips like maple syrup, “It would appear I’ve gotten a bit ahead of myself, my dear.”

You chuckled as well as his bow tie and undershirt were removed, “well, I’ll take it as a compliment…that you seem so eager to have me.”

Your words were spoken as if in jest, but his response was anything but.

“Doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt that I love,” he quoted, his smooth baritone steeping you in the tea of his desire. (William Shakespeare, Hamlet.)

It was enough to quiet your mind and when he said it, you felt your entire world get a little smaller. Your heightened senses had inflated your soul and carried you to the clouds. You were a runaway balloon stuck in a tree and his words were the hand that enclosed around your string. You had seen vast lands and known love in its many forms, but never until this moment had you felt so much in the presence of one.

His heart knew yours better than it knew itself and the cracks left by heartbreak were filled in by your endless love for each other.

You moved in to kiss him again and his hands cupped your warm cheeks. His breath tasted as sweet as the chocolate he made, which only made sense because of how often you saw him sampling it. He kept a bit in his coat that he’d pull out and nibble upon and often would you go sifting through his pockets for little treasures and treats that he had left over. Sometimes you found such delights that it had to have been no accident that they had been left behind. No, he knew your guilty pleasure was his chocolate and he made sure to satisfy your cravings, both for chocolate and for him, as often as possible.

Your tongue slipped inside his mouth and he finally graced your ears with a very delicate moan.

His hands moved down the length of your arms to finally grab your hips. He pulled you in, your pelvis against his, and you could feel the hard press of his bulge against your thigh.

While you kissed, he began to walk you backwards toward your shared bedroom.

You could not have torn your lips apart to look where you were going even if you wanted to.

You trusted him to get you there safely, perhaps more than you had ever trusted another person or at least you hadn’t trusted anyone this deeply in a very long time. Too many others had taken a hammer to your jawbreaker heart and smashed it to more manageably sized pieces, but once broken, it could never be put back together without its’ once-pristine surface now marred with jagged cracks.

At least the breakage let the light of your soul pour out into his hands…

Willy was stained by your brokenness, his heart bruised the color of your trauma.

He had been burned before, broken in a very real way, and therefore it was never a question of if you would trust him, but how much and when. He knew how long it could take a person to truly open up if they wanted to, but for you, he was willing to wait an eternity and then some.

Time stood still and Willy had the presence of mind to remember how it felt to cradle your body to his when the only things that cemented your souls was an equal share of trust and love for one another and the mutual decision to take just one more chance.

You sighed with relief when the backs of your knees connected with the mattress.

Willy didn’t push you or press for more. His lips left yours in favor of your neck and several chaste yet sweet kisses were left along your collar bone as if his lips were asking for permission without the accompaniment of words.

In between you, you reached for his belt.

He felt your fingers wrap around the waistband of his trousers and a gentle smirk crossed his features, “after something, are we?”

His coy response made the tips of your ears get hot and you huffed, “well, it isn’t my fault that I’ve gone and gotten all excited…”

“I hope you’re not implying that it’s mine,” he replied as his smirk widened.

“I wasn’t implying anything,” your time spent with him had sharpened your wit, “I’m saying it.”

His eyes shared in your mirth, twinkling with laughter at your response. He wrapped an arm around your lower back and pulled you in. With his cheek to yours, lips near your ear, he whispered, “shall we make use of your excitement, then, dear?”

You felt a shudder run down your spine as he spoke to you, the dulcet undertones of his honeyed voice pierced you like a knife through the delicate flesh of an orange. You wanted to sink your fingers into his heart and peel it apart to devour the pieces, sustaining yourself on his love.

You nodded and he deemed it appropriate to continue. He gently pushed your hands from his belt and took on the task himself. He pulled it from the loops and laid it on the chair nearest to him.

When he turned back to you, you were already removing your pants. He smiled to himself, stopping in his tracks to admire you as you undressed. He almost wanted to help you, but held himself back. Mutual trust came at a price and he would not want to overstep any unspoken boundaries. You had not explicitly told him not to help, but you hadn’t told him to do it either and so he decided it was best to let you indicate what you wanted from him and how comfortable you were with the situation.

Neither you nor he were particularly trusting individuals. Your experiences with people who took advantage of others made you wary and skeptical, through no fault of your own. Maturity and wisdom came with age and while you had both grown and learned, you had built walls around yourselves both figuratively and literally, in Wonka’s case, to guard your hearts and protect them.

Now, you were bearing your souls to each other.

It was an unlikely thing, but you were both ready. You had known Wonka for a long time now and you had no doubt that you and he were meant to be in each other’s lives. There was a reason that you were here. Even though you might have needed a bit of reassurance from time to time, it was never because you truly thought he might leave you. Giving word to that unreasonable fear set you free, because in your heart of hearts you realized that you were not afraid at all.

You were lonely.

You had forced it down for years, but acknowledging it now was cathartic, because never again would you find yourself isolated like you had so many years before.

Willy was no stranger to isolation either. Though he had reasons other than your own, he empathized.

It was difficult, at times, for the two of you to find a rhythm. Both of you had been alone for so long that it took time to become acclimated to sharing your lives with each other, but in this moment you both knew that there was no person you would each rather share a life with than each other.

Willy was never at risk of pulling away. He was simply learning how to love you.

As soon as you pushed off your pants and stepped out of them, he was kissing you again. In a flourish of limbs and bare skin, you fell backwards onto the mattress with him. His hot lips descended over yours as his fingers linked into the spaces between your own. In all ways except for one, your two bodies were unified and, if either of you could help it, that would soon be remedied.

The mattress dipped and shifted beneath your shared weight as Willy crawled on top of you. You held his hands for as long as you were capable of doing before you needed to feel him more solidly at your fingertips. You dropped his hand, grabbed his shoulder and dug in your nails to hear him hiss into your ear and nip at your neck.

He couldn’t even finish undressing because you demanded every ounce of his attention.

Your spirits were engaged in this battle of carnality and you had consumed him, corrupted his mind and possessed him body and soul, but all’s fair in love and war, both of which you had waged fervently on his senses.

At risk of ruining the moment, he pulled away and got up to finish removing his trousers. Your chest heaved as you took a moment to catch your breath, propping yourself up on one arm.

“And here I thought…we were just getting to the good part,” I quipped. A teasing smile bloomed on my face as he turned to look down at me.

“And I thought you liked my kisses,” He replied without missing a beat.

His lopsided grin made you giggle, but the sound of his zipper being pulled down tore your attention away from the witty banter. The fire of fierce need had begun to burn bright inside your belly once again after being extinguished to mere embers only seconds ago.

You watched him kick off his trousers and make no move to pick them up.

He moved back down onto the bed and leaned into you. You met him halfway and pecked a chaste kiss onto his lips. Your bodies fit together like two immaculately chiseled sculptures whose delicate features appeared to be made of something much softer than stone.

You knew what he wanted from you now and you felt goosebumps rising on your flesh as you anticipated his caress.

He cupped your head, holding you to him as he lowered you back against the pillows. He liked to take charge of this part himself and you let him, despite the anxiety you felt at relinquishing control over yourself. You didn’t like feeling out of control, especially of your body and Willy knew this. He tried his best to make you feel comfortable and safe, never moving forward without verbal consent.

“Shall I touch you, dear?”

You reflected on his question before you nodded, swallowing thickly before you could make a sound, “yes.”

You knew that he would check in with you frequently to make certain you still wished to continue.

With your consent, his fingertips grazed the length of your arms. His warm touch sent pleasant shivers through you and you fought the urge to arch into him. He had a way of making you feel everything he wanted you to feel with just one touch. It was like magic, the control he had over your body and sometimes you wondered if his creative abilities branched into other realms as well.

His hands slid down your sides, massaging your warm skin and admiring your supple curves, the angles and indentations of your hips. Before he traveled lower, Willy wanted to devote some appreciation to the rest of your body first. His hands moved to your back, working underneath you to swiftly unclip your bra. He had a way of doing things so fast that you barely had time to register what he was doing before it was done. Perhaps it didn’t seem possible, but impossibility did not exist where Willy Wonka came from; if there was a way to do the impossible, he had already figured it out and told no one.

With your unclasped bra no longer pulled taut, he delicately pushed the straps off your shoulders and plucked the hindersome piece of fabric away from your chest. It dropped unceremoniously to the floor and his blue eyes glittered with mischief when he looked upon your exposed breasts.

You wanted to cover them, but he held your arms at your sides. True to the creative genius he was, he had to admire beauty where and when he saw it and you were a masterpiece. His tight smile had relaxed as he gazed down at you beneath him and he practically cooed with appreciation for your form.

“You’re very beautiful,” he whispered heatedly, like it was almost difficult for him to get the words out. He was overwhelmed with all his attention focused on the body before him.

You wanted to thank him for the compliment, but all that came out was a soft squeak.

He chuckled at your little sound and bent his head. He placed a firm kiss on your left breast and you sighed in pleasure at the gentle touch of his plush lips on your pillowy skin. His lips traced the curves of your breasts before encircling one of your nipples, suckling lightly as if it were a piece of candy.

You mewled and arched into his mouth, desiring more from him and as quickly as possible, but Willy liked to take his time with you. He never left you unsatisfied, but you could expect nothing to be fast paced.

His fingers wrapped around your hips to hold you in place as he moved to your other breast and did the same thing. His hot tongue teased your candy pieces to hardness and he hummed his appreciation, sending waves of pleasure down to your core.

You squirmed in his grasp and whimpered pathetically, “please, Willy,” you begged him, “I want you now.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have me, dear,” he reassured you, his thumbs rubbing placatingly against your hips, “when I’m ready for you to.”

His teasing remark made you huff in irritation until his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your cotton panties and paused you in your tracks.

You whined as his fingers barely breached the fabric barrier before he removed them. His hands moved to your inner thighs and spread your legs apart for him to nestle in between them.

All you could do was watch as he leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your navel, just below your belly button. His kisses traveled lower and lower down your pelvis to your pubic bone and finally to your core. You writhed in pleasure when his mouth found its way to where you wanted it, but your panties were still in the way and you groaned with frustration.

Heat emanated from your core due to your arousal and the crotch of your panties were damp with your wetness.

Your head dropped back against the pillow as he used the tip of his nose to brush lightly against your clit through your panties.

You were so pliant to his will and responsive to his touch that he almost felt powerful. If it had been anyone other than him, he would have, but all he felt in this moment was an overwhelming feeling of love. The fact that he could give you a comfortable experience of vulnerability and pleasure perhaps did enflame his ego a bit, but he loved you even more for it. To see you enjoying yourself because of him was almost too much for him to handle and he could feel his cock swell to attention.

He placed a couple of open-mouthed kisses to the crotch of your panties before he dragged them down your legs. He would have liked to tease you more, but he was already beginning to lose patience and he didn’t want to rush through too quickly.

With your panties removed, he could admire your glistening folds and the sweet juices that had dribbled out of you. His mouth watered as he delved in for a taste, his tongue tentatively flickering against your opening.

You let out a cry and bucked your hips, desperate for him to fill you. You needed friction and fullness to achieve release and Willy knew you couldn’t get either of those things without his compliance. He smirked at that and lowered his head between your thighs.

Your hot core pulsed as more of your honey leaked onto his tongue. He moaned in satisfaction, savoring the taste of your sweetness and the delicious sounds you were making for him. He had never tasted anything this sweet except for his chocolate and if he could have only one of those two things right now he would have picked you without a second thought.

It was almost too much for him to pull his mouth away, but he knew that he must if he were to indulge in the ultimate act of pleasure with you. You both wanted that more than you wanted air to breathe. A greater craving than candy, your existing love and soul connection a stronger aphrodisiac than chocolate.

With a final flick of his tongue against your clit, he dragged his mouth off you. You whimpered at the loss, but in the back of your lust-flavored cotton candy mind you knew that your shared night of pleasure was just beginning.

He got off the bed again and opened the nightstand drawer. He withdrew a small tinfoil packet and a small clear bottle of lubricant.

You were still sprawled out on the mattress, your hair a halo around your head. The darkened room made it difficult to see what he was doing, but your eyes had adjusted enough for you to see movement.

You felt eyes on you and before you glanced up from the object he was holding, his voice broke the silence, “are you comfortable continuing?”

Driven by lust and lover’s greed, you nodded your consent. Willy did not respond at first, waiting on your actual acknowledgement and proper agreement. Your voice was shaky as you replied to him, but you knew what you wanted and were certain in your response, “yes. I want this. I want you, Willy.”

The sincerity in your voice convinced him and he tore open the condom wrapper.

Excitement thrilled you and coursed through your veins, carried into your heart by blood. Your body was singing with sensation as you wanted nothing more than his solid body atop you, his hard length buried in your tight heat.

You watched him with barely-concealed enthusiasm – well, perhaps the only concealment was from the darkness in the bedroom – as he took off his underwear and rolled the condom on. He then squirted a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and coated his cock.

You could hear him jerking himself off and the obscenely slick sounds from the generous amount of lube. He had yet to give himself any physical stimulation up until this point and you were eager to repay the favor.

In the dark, your reached for him and he came to you, ready to meld together and fill you full of himself.

He positioned himself on top and guided your legs around his hips. He propped himself up with one forearm flat against the mattress so that he wouldn’t rest his entire body weight on you and the other guided his condom-covered tip to your entrance.

He gave your forehead a tender kiss as he pressed in. Your lips parted at your sharp intake of breath and your muscles tightened and seized around him. Willy kissed your face, calming you and keeping you still and relaxed until he bottomed out.

He nuzzled against your cheek and moved his free arm behind you to cradle your head.

You tilted your head back and captured his lips. The two of you kissed lazily for several moments as your bodies adjusted to one another. Your walls twitched around his cock, sending jolts of electricity down to his toes, into the pit of his stomach and behind his eyes. Everything felt fuzzy and seemed out of focus except for you.

The one thing that was clear to him was his love for you and the appreciation he had for you being a part of his life. If he could not trust a single soul with his legacy, he knew that he could trust you with himself and that was more than enough.

For once, nothing made you question Willy Wonka; his intentions were clear.

Your fears were just that: fear. It was irrational and based on nothing of consequence. However, the very fact that you were afraid let you and he both know how much you cared.

You would never take Willy, and he would never take you, for granted.

He would reassure you that though he was not used to sharing his world with another, that you were his world now and you would share in every aspect with him and reap the rewards of a unique and whimsical life with perhaps the greatest chocolatier who ever lived.

Take out all the fantasy and spectacle and you were left with only love and imagination.

All these people thought the most fantastical thing about Willy Wonka were his creations, but what took your breath away, and had since the beginning, was the man behind those creations.

You had fallen in love with him as much as you had with his brain and his intellect, his body, his soul. You wanted to dip your fingers into him like if he were made of melted chocolate. You would lick the essence of his existence off your fingertips to taste his candy-coated soul and sugared thoughts. There were not many candies or chocolates of the Wonka brand that you hadn’t tried, but none were sweeter than the man himself.

If he existed only in your mind, then your mind was alive with the thought of him.

All too soon, your thoughts abandoned you as you felt him begin to move.

He slowly pulled out, angled his hips and pushed back in.

The sudden movement jarred your body and you clung to him tighter.

As he began to set a pace, you rolled your hips down onto him each time that he pushed in. This seemed to please him, witnessing you thrusting with him, your bodies moving in unison toward a shared release and reciprocation of pleasure.

He grunted softly in your ear with the effort of thrusting into you. His soft curls tickled your cheek and you bit back a giggle. A particularly rough thrust ripped the sound from your throat and you laughed aloud.

His brows furrowed in amusement at your laughter, but he grinned with you nonetheless.

His thrusts became harsher, deepening as you adjusted and conformed to the rhythm and pace he set that was creating a delicious friction between your legs. You moaned shamelessly into his ear and he thrusted harder, encouraged by the sinful sounds you were making.

Willy kissed you, his lips feverishly moved against yours as he held you in his embrace and your skin blazed with red hot fervor. A thin sheen of sweat clung to your bodies and you could feel the heat rolled off him in waves. Sweat beaded on his upper lip, but it didn’t bother you as you kissed him harder, demanding more intensity out of your shared intimacy. Your core pulsed, muscles gripping and clenching tightly around his cock.

Your moans began to take on a higher pitch the closer you got to your release. Willy could tell that you were close now and he was eager to send you over the edge. Sex was, at least for him, about mutual enjoyment and gratification, not domination, exploitation or manipulation. It was about individuals who loved each other enough to put aside their individuality and become one, just for a moment of bliss.

His forehead pressed against yours as he thrusted into you harder than before, his pace becoming erratic the closer he came to his own release.

As he panted, you felt his breath fan across your face and he smelled of chocolate.

You balanced on the edge of oblivion as your feverish coupling would soon send you into orgasm.

After a few more hard thrusts, Willy slipped a hand between your legs and gently rubbed your clit. Your release seized you, your body shaking violently with hurricane force winds of equal parts pleasure and zest. It was as if the air had been knocked out of you and you were falling down into his waiting arms. Ecstasy radiated from your core, carried in waves throughout your body.

You were alone with your pleasure, waiting on your lover to join you in the afterglow.

You cried out his name as he thrusted into you through your orgasm. He lasted several moments after you came before he released, filling the condom with several hot bursts of his seed.

He had just enough strength left in his body to pull out and collapse beside you. His harsh panting soon turned to gentle sighs as his heartrate decreased and his body cooled. His strawberry blonde curls were plastered to his forehead with sweat and were sticking out at wild angles except for the top which was always a bit flattened from the way he wore his hat.

You reached out and petted his frizzy hair, your fingers delicately massaging his scalp. He let out a quiet little moan and you smiled at him.

With a deep inhale, he sat up and peeled the sticky condom off his softening prick. He tied it up and tossed it in the wastebin, then snatched his underwear off the ground. He picked yours up as well and handed them to you for you to slip on.

You got off the bed and put your panties back on, then crossed the room to the bathroom. A few moments later, when you returned after you had cleaned yourself up, you found him lying in bed waiting for you.

He smiled at you as you approached and extended an arm out to let you curl into his side as you got back on the bed with him. He already had a blanket laid out to pull across your nude bodies so that you could cuddle in modesty and without getting a chill.

He looked down to watch you settle in and you met his gaze for a moment, appreciating his features. His gorgeous blue eyes were like pools of galaxy speckled with stars. His aquiline nose, which most people thought was too big for his face, looked proportionate in your opinion and beautiful just the same. He had the softest features of any man you had ever seen, slightly chubby cheeks, a round face and curved jawline. He was exquisite in every sense of the word and just looking at him made you fall more deeply in love.

As attractive as he was to you, his personality spoke to yours in a language only the two of you spoke fluently.

His appreciation for literature and culture was unique and inspiring and, because it tied in with your own, you learned a lot from each other. His quick wit and casual snide remarks that often passed over other people’s heads made you laugh as though you were enjoying your own little joke with each other.

During your private appreciation for this man, you concluded that you had no reason to ever think he might be pulling away from you.

In surreal Willy Wonka fashion, he seemed to read your thoughts as he finally spoke, “I’d like to see you in the Inventing Room with me tomorrow. I want you to be as involved with the holiday busy season as I am.”

He addressed your insecurities by offering a solution to the problem and your heart felt a bit lighter. He wanted you to be involved in his work so that you didn’t feel so isolated or lonely. He had promised to be more attentive and he intended to do just that, but you could offer him aid and visit him while he worked. True love was buoyed by compromise; you’d see to it that you did your part to keep your relationship strong.

“Forgive me for not being as attentive as I should be,” he continued, “I’ve been so busy, not to excuse myself.”

“I understand,” you replied.

He seemed surprised for a moment, as if he half-expected you to still be upset, “and it isn’t entirely your fault. I should come around more if I’m missing you. We’ll find a solution. We have time.” Willy put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close so he could kiss your head, “time is a precious thing, my dear. Never waste it.”

Between his words, you heard what he was not saying.

And while he had a point, what you did have was now.

You could agree just to exist for a moment, sharing in the silence of the universe and listening to nothing but your dreams and the sounds of your hearts.

You would fall into each other the same way that you fell in love: accidentally and achingly slow.

One day you would both look up and see how far you had come, but for now, you still had a way to go.

You knew his heart belonged to yours and that was enough to keep trying. Once the busy season calmed down and you had more time to focus on the two of you, you would ease into it like lovers were meant to, but right now you had an obligation to yourselves not to let the fear of failure drive you apart.

It might seem fatalistic to ruin a relationship before it had run its course, but you’d seen it happen and the last thing you wanted was for that to be yours.

You knew deep down that it wouldn’t happen.

Your love was as strong as your imaginations were wild and no mind would ever dare dream the two of you apart.

#willy Wonka #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #willy wonka 1971 #wilder!wonka #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka imagine #willy wonka and the chocolate factory imagine #gene wilder #biblio :: 📖

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blueskylinesx · 5 months ago

Text

Tomato Red - Chapter Two

Parings: Jesse Cash x Female Reader

Warnings/Triggers: Language, talks about relationship traumas/abuse, mother/father relationships, mentions of cheating, anxiety, nervousness/panicky behavior, self doubt, fluff, sexual tension.

Summary: The local cafe/bookstore down the street was Jesse's usual hang out spot where he spent hours reading books and working on music. Until one day when he meets a new barista working the bookstore cafe. Suddenly, Jesse's reasons for visiting the bookstore down the road were no longer just for reading and work... but were suddenly meant for much more.

Author's Note: This GIF took me forever to get right.. Tumblr gave me the hardest time BUT I was determined to make it work. I feel like it really captures Jesse's fidgetiness and anxiety that I tried to portray in this chapter. This one was a super fun one to write and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do. The story is just beginning ya'll, buckle in! Please feel free to share your thoughts! :)

The orange scones were heavily inspired by @thefallennightmare 's story "Just Pretend." IF you somehow haven't read it yet, do yourself the favor and exit out of this and go read it right now. Seriously. Thank you SO much again Tina for giving me the okay to add Jesse's fruit addiction to Tomato Red. You're the sweetest ever and I'm honored to have a little piece of Just Pretend be apart of this story.

I'm also trying to work on putting together a little master list so that all these chapters will be in one place that's easier to navigate for everyone. Thank you all for baring with me while I fought to get this chapter up. <3

Tags: @thefallennightmare @thatchickwiththecamera @xxkittenkissesxx @arkiliastuff @lma1986 @cncohshit @collidewiththesav

If you would like to be added to the tags list please let me know! I would be happy to do so! Thank you all for your support and for reading these. <3

READER

I rolled over on my side to shut off the alarm that loudly echoed from my phone which sat on my bedside nightstand. Pulling the charger cord out and letting it fall onto the floor, I dismissed the alarm and let out a long sigh. 5:00 am right on the dot.

I had to be at the cafe early this morning to help Kate bake the first few rounds of pastries for the front display case. Normally Kate could handle the morning bake load by herself. But, with it being so busy lately she asked me to start coming in a few times a week to help out since having to increase the morning bake amount.

I brushed the messy strands of hair away from my face and pulled the covers off of me to fully sit up in bed. I let out a long yawn and rubbed my eyes before finally stepping out into the cold air of my bedroom.

Kate always kept the AC in the apartment on the temperature of Alaska and although I’ve lived with her for a little over a year, my Floridian blood still wasn’t used to it. Goosebumps lined both my arms and legs and I quickly rushed over to my dresser to remove the oversized shirt I had slept in. I then threw on a pair of black leggings followed by a pair of gray high socks, my white bra, and an oversized dark green sweatshirt.

I then made my way over to my bathroom within a few steps and ran my hand along the wall to find the light switch. With a loud click from flipping the switch up, the sudden brightness filled the room and caused my eyes to squint.

Taking a second for my eyes to adjust, I reached over to the side mirror on the wall and pulled out my toothbrush and toothpaste. With my toothbrush pushed to the side of my mouth I lazily threw my hair up in a messy bun. Not having the energy to put in the effort to do anything cute with it, other than potentially seeing the cutie from last night, and then finishing it off with a few sprays of dry shampoo, just in case.

Shaking the thought from my mind, I finished brushing my teeth with a quick gargle of mouthwash and then made my way back into my room to throw on my pair of black high top converse and sprayed myself with my usual coconut vanilla body mist.

I grabbed my purse off of the hook that hung on the back of my bedroom door, closing it behind me, and finally made my way out of the long hallway and into the front room of mine and Kate’s apartment.

Stopping right before the front door to grab my car keys from the small side table and double checking to make sure I had my phone and cafe key on me. With everything in place, I reached for the front door handle and stepped out into the gray, dim, overcast LA weather. Feeling the breeze blow around the loose strands of my bun while I turned to lock the door behind me.

Taking in the fresh cool air as it swept across my nose I headed down the two flights of stairs, making my way to the parking lot, and finally into my car. Before inserting my key into the ignition I lifted my butt slightly above my seat to pull my phone out from my back pocket. Sitting back down and unlocking the screen to search for Kate and mine’s thread of text messages.

I quickly typed out, “Hey, currently in the car and on my way now. I made sure to leave a few minutes early today so you wouldn’t put me in a chokehold the second I walked through the door if I was late again. See you soon. Love you.” and then clicked send before starting my car and finally heading out of the parking lot.

READER

I pulled into the back parking lot of the cafe and parked next to Kate’s blue Mini Cooper, which was the only other car in the lot. The cafe didn’t open until seven and since it was still pretty early the rest of the cafe crew hadn’t shown up yet.

I shut the car off and reached over to the passenger seat to grab my purse and the rest of my belongings before stepping out of the car. I then headed towards the back door of the cafe and clicked the lock button on my car remote twice as the two car beeps echoed through the parking lot back to me.

Inserting my cafe key into the lock and using a little bit of force to push the old wooden door open I was greeted by the warm heat that filled the air from the ovens and the sweet aroma of the fresh baked pastries Kate had been working on all morning.

“About time you showed up, I was wondering if you may have hit your snooze button a few extra times this morning.” I heard Kate call out from over by the bakers table.

Glancing down at my phone to check the time that now showed 5:47am, “What do you mean about time? I literally rushed out of the house so fast this morning you would have been proud. Plus you said to get here around six and I’m exactly thirteen minutes early, thank you very much”. I responded back while making my way over to her.

Flour, bowls of mixed pastry batter, baking utensils both clean and coated in all kinds of different pastry mix, and baking pans all covered the table before me. Kate had been here since four and it definitely showed from the mess that also coated her apron. She even managed to get some flour in the ends of her ponytail and on her face.

“Had a little accident this morning, did we?” I asked while swiping my finger across her cheek to scoop up some of the loose flower from her face.

“This mixer is crazy! I don’t know if it’s acting out in retaliation from the use and abuse I’ve been putting this thing through lately… but here I was rolling cinnamon rolls and when I had walked over to check the next batch of dough, the bowl about flew off the stand and threw flower all over the place, as you can clearly see.” Kate said while huffing her hair out of her face with a forceful sigh.

“Well I’ve come to your rescue! Where would you like me to start boss?” I replied with a snicker while pulling my apron strings into a tight knot around my waist.

“First and most importantly, can you bring me my iced coffee and hold it up to me so I can get a sip? I am in desperate need of rejuvenation.” Kate asked while continuing to roll out the cinnamon rolls before her. “Then if you could start on the orange scones I would be forever in your debt.”

“Wow the orange scones huh? Normally those are your babies, are you suuure you want me to be making the tried and true orange scones? Afterall, I mean I know how particular you are -”

“Oh shut up and just bring me my iced coffee you brat.” Kate said with a playful laugh.

I held the cup of iced coffee up to Kate’s mouth and she eagerly started sipping away at the half melted liquid inside. I went to set the cup back down on the table after she pulled away but not before noticing the strange look that she was suddenly giving me.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re oddly cheery this morning, normally when you come in you’re quiet and a little grumpy. But today you’re talkative and even have a sort of glow to you. You even texted me before you left home... Did I miss something somewhere from when I last saw you after yesterday’s crazy morning rush?” Kate replied while tapping her finger to her chin.

I could feel my cheeks suddenly getting warm and a rush of nervousness suddenly hit the inside of my stomach like a tsunami. Did Kristina say something to her about last night? I wondered.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying as your sister, I know when something is different about you. I even got a whiff of your dry shampoo while you were standing next to me with my coffee. Which for you to put dry shampoo in your hair at five in the morning… is a pretty big deal.”

Rolling my eyes and shifting in my shoes I adjusted my apron and smoothed it down over my waist and legs. I was hesitant to respond to Kate’s assumptions. Not because she was wrong or because she’s always had an annoyingly accurate attention to detail. But because I was scared of the reaction I might get from her.

Kate was older than me by five years and she always sort of took on a motherly role even when we were kids. Our mom was hardly present while we were growing up. Her and our father divorced and separated shortly after our dad started going out of town for months at a time for work. He was in the military and was constantly having to leave and would sometimes be gone for almost an entire year. Our mom did the best she could but couldn’t handle the stress of being the one to handle it all by herself while our dad was away.

When he was home, they were constantly fighting and my sister was always trying to pick up the pieces. Not only for both of our parents but for me as well. When our parents finally decided to divorce and our father moved to North Carolina, our mother quickly grew lonely and would often try to desperately fill the void of our father in whatever man she could at the time.

This resulted in her constantly bringing multiple men back to the house all throughout our childhood and her focus became more on whatever boyfriend she had for that short period of time, until something would happen and she’d be forced to move on to the next one. Which is probably why now both mine and Kate’s opinions on love is so fucked up.

…And is also probably why I stayed in my previous relationship for three years with my toxic ex boyfriend back in Florida. From the first month we were together, Kate picked up on all of Jake’s red flags while I was too mesmerized by the first boy that treated me with the bare minimum of what I thought was love.

The three years we lasted together Kate begged me throughout the entire relationship to cut things off but I was too scared of losing something that I thought I’d never find again. Regardless of how horrible it made me feel. It didn’t matter because I was young, dumb, and so blinded by the extremely little good moments me and Jake shared. Which casted such dark shadows over the actual reality of the entire relationship.

When Kate first moved to California to start college, I moved in with Jake shortly after graduating high school so I wouldn’t have to deal with living with our mother by myself. But it only lasted for about a year before I caught Jake cheating on me with some girl he worked with. Which resulted in a loud screaming fight and me kicking all his shit out of the apartment.

That same night after everything happened I broke down and called Kate and without zero hesitation she was on a plane to Florida the next day to help me pack my stuff to come move in with her in LA. Something that I’ll forever be grateful for, and the fact that she was always there to help me pick up the pieces when I couldn’t do it by myself.

But I knew if I mentioned my encounter with Jesse from last night, Kate would most likely give me shit for it. Which is why I was so nervous to mention it to her. I also knew that I couldn’t avoid her forever, especially when she was already picking up suspicions and I had just met the man last night.

But, deep down I was eager to share my excitement about meeting him and wanted to get a second opinion on the conversation we had.

Fuck it.

I let out a deep sigh and tucked the few pieces of loose stray hairs that clung to the side of my face behind my ear. “I hate how you always know everything. I swear you’re a witch or something.” I said nervously while clearing a space on the baking table so I could begin prepping the orange scones.

“I’m your sister and we’ve lived together for basically our entire lives Y/N. I know when something is up or when you’re acting differently. That’s how I knew it was always you who would drink my capri suns, even though you would always blame mom. It was all over your face and you’ve always been bad at hiding shit.” Kate replied with a light chuckle.

“Promise me you won’t be mad?”

Suddenly halting in place, Kate immediately turned her head in my direction. “Please tell me you’re not talking with Jake again.”

“Oh God no, definitely not.”

Letting out a long sigh of relief, Kate turned back down to finish icing the rest of the cinnamon rolls on the tray in front of her before grabbing another rack to work on.

“Thank the Heavens, you about gave me a damn heart attack. If it has nothing to do with that idiot, moron, piece of garbage, then I can’t think of a reason as to why I would be mad Y/N.”

“Okay soooo,” I started with a long pause. “A really, really, really cute guy came into the cafe last night while me and Kristina were closing. I probably wouldn’t have even known he was there if it wasn’t for Kristina calling me up to the register to help show her how to cash out a card transaction.”

I glanced over at Kate in an attempt to read her body language. She wasn’t giving off any signs that raised any flags yet so I continued to describe my interaction from last night.

“Well anyways, I had also seen him earlier in the day during our morning rush when I had to go out and refill the cinnamon rolls…”

“Was it the same guy who I caught checking out your ass when you walked past him by chance?” Kate suddenly interrupted.

Feeling the heat suddenly returning to my cheeks I glanced back over at Kate with wide eyes.

“Wait, you caught him staring at my ass?”

“Uh yeah, he wasn’t exactly discreet about it. Pretty sure he knew I busted him because when he came up to the register he was all fidgety and nervous. Handed me his debit card with shaky hands too.”

For some reason Kate telling me how she picked up on Jesse’s nervousness suddenly made me feel a bit more at ease. I was so nervous and embarrassed yesterday after he had mentioned my name tag being upside down that I spent the entire drive back home thinking of ways to permanently attach my nametag to my apron so that it always stays upright.

“Are you sure he was staring at my ass or are you just assuming he was because your big sister was showing?”

Either way, I wasn’t complaining.

“Y/N, he was staring at your ass, trust me. But anyways, continue about last night.” Kate said while waving me off.

“Oh yeah so anyways, we made some small talk. I may have been a tad bit flirty to which I think he may have been flirty back?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Kate mumbled under her breath.

Ignoring her comment I continued on with my description of last night, “Well, to keep a long story short I ended up asking him his name and he told me it was Jesse. We made some more flirty conversation and then I ended up telling him my name.”

I left the part out about me giving him the name tag. I knew Kate would have grown three gray hairs had I told her I was giving out name tags, especially after she went off on a tangent yesterday morning about how everyone keeps stealing all the backup name tags from her drawer up front.

“I unfortunately didn’t get much further than that with our conversation though. I still had a lot to show Kristina for the closing shift and wanted to make sure she was picking up on everything. So, I told him that I had hoped to see him around and that was pretty much that.” I said while grabbing a few metal baking pans from under the baking table so I could begin scooping the dough of the orange scones onto them.

Kate was finishing arranging the few plates of pastries she had finished baking earlier onto the plates for the pastry case. I tried to read her facial expression from the side to see if I could attempt to understand any of what she might be thinking. But, my detective skills weren’t nearly as up to par as hers.

“Well, just promise me you’ll take it slow. I know you’re older now and I’m trying hard not to mom you all the time. But, I just worry about you and the guys here in LA aren’t exactly much better than back home. If anything, I’d say they’re worse.”

Kate actually took it a lot better than I thought she would and I definitely understood her reasons for being concerned. It felt good to finally be getting a weight off of my shoulders and to have told her about Jesse.

“But despite me being your protective older sister it is nice to see you so glowy and happy, especially this early in the morning. Maybe I should thank Jesse myself if I see him again.” Kate said while making her way towards the silver door with a few plates of pastries in her hands.

Rolling my eyes I then motioned towards the trays of orange scones before me, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Before you head up front, come check these scones to see if they’re to your liking before I put them in the oven.”

Glancing over to the trays on the table a smile spread across Kate’s face.

“I taught you well. Now get started on the chocolate chip muffins while I start setting up out front. If your little crush comes in before you’re finished back here I’ll make sure to sound an alarm or something.” She said before finally stepping out from the back kitchen and making her way out to the cafe to begin setting up for the day.

JESSE

I sat on the kitchen countertop while swaying both my legs to the side as I was finishing up a bowl of oatmeal. I had spent the morning working on some more music for my band ERRA and also helping my roommates with some of their bands music as well.

I lived with my three best friends Michael, Noah, and Jolly ever since I moved from Nashville to California. Noah and Jolly were in a band called Bad Omens together and Michael was in a separate band called Chief. It was nice to live with three other musicians because we could always bounce back and forth ideas to one another.

Also if I ever needed advice or a second opinion on something, all I had to do was just take a few steps out into the hallway and I could knock on one of their bedroom doors regardless of whatever time it was.

With us all being in touring bands it also worked out because we were usually on opposite touring schedules. So even though it was four of us in one house, I was still able to have some time away for myself when I needed it.

“Would anyone know why the Crunchyroll login won’t work when I try to use it?” Noah’s voice suddenly echoing out from the front room.

“I don’t know man, I don’t watch those cartoons or whatever you guys call it. Maybe try logging in to the PBS Kids channel. You might have better luck.” Jolly responded back.

“Fuck off, they’re not cartoons man. The new Attack On Titan dropped and I was trying to watch it before my session with Ash. But for some reason all of a sudden I mysteriously can’t log in to my own account.” Noah said in an aggravated tone.

…“Ah, the TV disconnected from the wifi and that’s why it won’t let me log in.”

Hopping off the counter I brought my empty bowl over to the sink and rinsed it out before placing it in the dishwasher. I turned to head towards the front room where Jolly and Noah were sitting on the couch together.

“Aw, are my two boys over here having a little spiffle?” I asked as I entered the front room and then plopped down on the couch between them.

“Noah is just dumb and doesn’t know how to work a TV apparently.” Jolly responded in a joking tone.

“I know how to work a TV alright. It’s not my fault the wifi is faulty.”

“The wifi is faulty.” I repeated while laughing.

“I think it’s just user error.” Jolly retorted back.

Noah rolled his eyes and let out a long aggravated sigh. “Enough about the wifi. Where the hell were you last night? I came over to your room to see if you wanted to go grab something for dinner and when I knocked you weren’t in there. Michael had said you’d been gone all day?”

“Oh yeah, I got caught up at the cafe down the road working on some of the new ERRA songs.” I answered.

“All the way past 10:30?” Noah asked with a raised brow.

“Well I ended up having some friendly conversation with one of the girls who works at the cafe. So, I got a bit caught up and lost track of the time.”

Jolly and Noah both turned to each other. Both of them now having raised eyebrows as they returned their sight back to me.

“You got a bit caught up and lost track of the time? As in lost track of time with the girl from the cafe, if ya know what I’m sayin?” Jolly responded with a sly smirk while raising both his brows.

Noah now chiming back in, “Oh shit dude, is that why you were out so late? Good for you man.”

“No, no, no. You guys are getting way too ahead of yourselves. Plus you both know better than anyone that I’m not the kind of guy to just be going out on lust filled adventures especially with someone I just met.” I responded while nervously running my hands over the tan pants that hugged my thighs.

Oh shit man, I didn’t mean to throw out accusations. I just thought maybe you were finally starting to open up and explore the dating world again, especially after the whole situation with what's her name.” Noah replied while patting the back of my shoulder.

I felt my shoulders tense up from his response. I tried to push that whole situation to the back of my mind as far as possible. So when someone would occasionally bring it back up, the bad taste that lingered on my tongue for so long would overtake all my taste buds. Leaving me with a burning taste of despair and disappointment that I desperately fought so long to be rid of.

“Uh -” I started with a hard swallow. “Not that I’m exploring the dating world per say. But more like she definitely caught my attention and I couldn’t help myself from wanting to talk to her.”

“Well man, don’t be shy. Share the details!” Jolly excitedly responded while sitting further up on the couch.

Feeling a little more at ease with this new excitement about sharing my encounter with the beautiful girl from last night, I began sharing our interaction with my two friends.

“It actually all happened pretty suddenly. I went to the cafe like normal just to work on some shit for the band. Had myself a coffee and a croissant, yadda, yadda, yadda. When I went to go take my empty plate back up and to get another refill, that’s when I first saw her. She was putting a new plate of pastries in the little case thing up front and the sunlight that casted off her hair caught the corner of my eye.”

“Oh this sounds like some Titanic lovey dovey romance type shit.” Jolly said.

“Dude, did you even watch the movie? Did you see how it ended?” Noah responded with a click of his tongue.

“Uh yeah of course I’ve seen the movie, who hasn’t? That redhead girl and the blonde dude were smashing and then he drew that photo of her with her all naked on the chair and shit. Pretty romantic lovey dovey if you ask me.”

“Jesus.” Noah said while rubbing both his eyes. “Jesse, please continue before this idiot continues talking.”

Turning my gaze away from Jolly I began explaining mine and Y/N’s encounter again.

“Yeah, so anyways…” Trying to regain my focus after Jolly’s Titanic comment. “I saw her standing there and I just couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. She was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I honestly think I stood there in my own disbelief because I couldn’t comprehend how she was real. She was so effortlessly beautiful in the way she did something as simple as putting some baked goods behind a glass container. Then when she walked past me and I caught the vanilla coconut scent coming off of her and I was put into an even bigger trance.”

I looked back up and over at Noah, who was sitting beside me silently listening to what I had been saying with his arm stretched over the back of the couch. My friend looked back at me with friendly yet concerned eyes, and I enterlocked my hands together before continuing further.

Taking in a deep breath I went to begin again but Jolly had interrupted once again.

“But were you staring at the booty though? Be honest!”

My cheeks suddenly became hot and I could feel the saliva in my throat start to quickly dry.

Fuck. Even I couldn’t deny to myself that I maybe caught a glance or two of her lower half from underneath her apron strings.

Noah suddenly broke out with laughter, “The silence is very telling. My man, you just got busted and by Jolly at all costs.”

“Okay, whatever. So I may have glanced at her ass once or twice. Sue me.” I said as I threw my hands up. “But that wasn’t the reason for why she caught my attention. Something about this girl had me weak in the knees from just the first sight of her.”

“You’re fucked Jesse.” Jolly stated while crossing his arms over his chest.

“I hate to admit it, but I gotta agree with Jolly on this one. The way you’re describing this girl it sounds like you may be in love at first sight.” Noah added.

I also hated to admit it, but even I couldn’t help but agree with their statements. I was fucked. This girl had me hooked from just the first sight of her.

“Well, did you talk to her or what?” Noah asked while flipping up his hand.

“Later on in the night I did. I’m pretty sure she caught me staring at her while I was standing in line and I had to go work out my embarrassment before even thinking about facing her again. But once I calmed my nerves, I used wanting to get a refill on coffee as an excuse to try to talk to her again.”

“And? Did it work?” Jolly asked eagerly.

A smile now spread across my face and my heart began to pick up pace. “Yeah actually, it did. We exchanged some flirty banter and I think she was into me? It’s hard to tell though since it was just one conversation and she was working, so she may have just been being friendly. But we exchanged names and then I made a comment about her nametag being upside down and then she ended up making me my own upside down name tag. It was probably the cutest thing a girl has ever done for me.” I admitted.

“Is that what I saw this morning sitting on the counter by the coffee machine?” Michael asked, suddenly appearing out from the kitchen holding his leftover chipotle bowl.

“Wait, it's in the kitchen? Dude bring it in here so we can see it!” Jolly excitedly exclaimed.

Michael appeared back into the front room holding the name tag that Y/N had made for me last night and handed it over to Noah first.

“Dude, she’s definitely into you. No girl would take the time to do some shit like this if she was just being friendly.” Noah stated while holding the name tag in between his fingers.

“Oh definitely and look, she even added a little smiley face right next to his name”. Michael said with a mumbled tone from the chipotle he had shoved in his mouth.

Jolly now leaned over me so he could grab the name tag from Noah’s hand. “Oh fuck man, yeah she’s definitely feeling you. She took her time with this, look how much detail she added to the little frame around your name.”

I slunk back down into the couch, “You guys are embarrassing me.”

Ignoring my statement, “I think the real question now is, when are you going back to the cafe?” Noah turned to ask me.

I had been thinking about going back to the cafe the second I stepped out the front door of the cafe last night, from the entire drive back home, and up until this moment. That’s all I had been thinking about.

“I say we all go to the cafe now so we can see who’s got our boy all flustered like this.” Michael said with a grin.

“Hey I’m down. I don’t have to meet up with Ash until a few hours from now. Plus, I could use some caffeine before my session anyways.” Noah replied while pushing his hands off his knees to stand up from the couch.

“Do I have a say in any of this?” I asked with nerves suddenly building up in my stomach.

“Nope.” The three of them all responded back at the same time.

“Quit being a pussy and go put your shoes on. We’re just going to grab some coffee and potentially force you to get her number.” Michael said while walking back over to the kitchen to throw out his now empty chipotle bowl.

Fuck me.

KATE

This was the first time all morning that I was able to catch my breath. From the moment the cafe doors opened we were slammed back to back. We had a line that stretched almost all the way down to the bookstore registers.

Thankfully I staffed today’s shift with our strongest employees so everything went smoothly for the most part. Other than Kristina spilling an entire pot of hot coffee all over the floor. But, it could have gone worse I suppose. Plus, the floors were probably in need of a good scrubbing anyways.

I walked towards the silver door that separated the back of house from the front cafe and pushed it open to make my way back over towards the sink area to check on Y/N. With this being the first break we’ve had all morning she offered to go catch up on all the dishes from this morning's pastry bake.

Bringing Y/N to work at the cafe with me was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Even though we also lived together, me and Y/N very rarely ever got into arguments. Even as children, we would bicker and then we would always be able to patch it up right then and there. So I was so thankful when she finally agreed to come work with me after months of desperately begging every day.

Despite being my sister, Y/N was reliable and I could count on her. Plus she was a hard worker and I never had to worry if she would show up for her shifts or not.

Finally making my way to the sink I came up beside Y/N and put my hand on the back of her shoulder. “Thank you for coming in this morning to help me and for knocking out these dishes. I know I say it a lot but, I really am grateful you decided to come work here with me.”

Turning her head to meet my gaze, “You’re sucking up, what do you want?”

“Nothing.” I replied back with a laugh. “I just want you to know that I’m thankful and I’m happy to have you here is all. But, don’t let it go to your head. You still owe me a matcha latte for being late yesterday. Don’t think I forgot!”

“Ah, so it was a matcha latte you wanted.” Y/N replied back with a grin across her face. “Give me a few seconds to get cleaned up and I’ll be out there to make it for you, brat.”

“Did I ever mention that you’re the best sister ever?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, suuuuure.” Y/N responded while waving me off.

I turned to make my way back towards the cafe. Pushing the silver door open and checking the times on the pots of coffee. I bent down to the cabinet underneath the coffee pots and scooped out two cups of coffee beans and poured them into the grinder.

Once they were all grinded up I lined the coffee pot trays with coffee filters and then poured the ground coffee grinds inside and began brewing fresh pots of coffee for the afternoon. When I went to turn back around there was a gentleman standing at the register.

Holy mother of God.

This man was absolutely beautiful. His short brown hair framed his face perfectly and he was covered from neck to toe with tattoos. Not to mention the fact that he practically towered over the register, and those arms… Jesus those arms.

I took in a deep breath and tried to find my footing again before finally making my way over to the register. I licked my lips and had to do a double take to make sure I wasn’t drooling down my apron.

“Good afternoon, did you have any questions about the menu?” I asked.

“Oh no, I was just reading over everything you guys have here. I’m actually waiting for the rest of my friends to come up but they went to grab a table over in the book store first.”

Mmm, I’d like to grab something myself.

“Okay no worries, take your time and whenever you’re ready to order just holler.”

“Will do.” He responded back with a friendly smile while tucking his hands into his pockets.

I walked back over to the coffee pots to make it seem like I was doing something while peeking out from behind the coffee grinder so I could continue to stare at the man up at the register.

He was wearing a white shirt that appeared to have an image of Jesus playing basketball with Satan and a pair of black shorts that hugged his thighs perfectly. He had paired them with a pair of high white socks and all white vans.

Suddenly another man appeared beside him. He had long brown hair and was also covered in tattoos. He wore a black tee shirt paired with black sweatpants and had them tucked into a pair of yellow high top shoes.

What was in the air today? My God. These two men were gorgeous.

“Jesse’s being a pussy so Michael stayed back to try to work up his confidence.” The second man said to the short haired man.

He had an accent that I couldn’t exactly place my finger on. But whatever it was, it sounded beautiful and I wished he would whisper sweet nothings into my ears forever after hearing it.

“Uh Kate, what are you doing?”

Almost slamming face first into the coffee grinder I whipped my head around to see Jasmine standing at the food counter staring at me with a wild expression on her face.

“Oh, um, I was just listening to the grinder. It has been making a weird sound all morning and I just wanted to make sure the motor wasn’t going bad or anything.” I said with a shaky breath.

“Riiiiiiiight.” She responded with a sly smirk and then glanced over to the register. “Must really be making some concerning sounds then.”

Rolling my eyes at her comment I then brushed my hair back down with my hands and flattened out my apron double checking to make sure I didn’t have any food or coffee gunk on me.

Two more men suddenly appeared behind the two tall gentlemen who had been standing up at the register. One of them caught my attention immediately. I recognized the gray hat he was wearing that had a white flower embroidered on the front. He hung towards the back with his arms nervously crossed over his chest.

The man with the long brown hair turned over in my direction, “Excuse me ma'am, we are ready to order whenever you’re ready.” He called out with a smile.

Oh shit. I quickly turned over to Jasmine, “Hey can you do me a favor really quick? Can you go in the back and have Y/N come up front please. Tell her it’s urgent. I’m gonna need her to help me knock out these next orders of drinks.”

“Sure thing!” She responded and turned to head towards the silver door. But before she could place her hands on it to push it open it already began to push forward from the back. Y/N now stepping out into the cafe.

“Hey sorry I took so long, I ended up getting water all over the front of my apron so I had to go search for a new one.”

“No, it’s okay.” I quickly replied back. “You came at the perfect time. I’m going to need you at the register to help me take these four guys' orders, especially the one in the back.” Then winked my right eye at her.

Y/N quickly looked up and her eyes suddenly grew wide. I could see the pink starting to flush into her cheeks.

“I’m also going to need you to hold me upright while I have to talk to these two tall ones in the front.” I said while urging Y/N back towards the register with me.

JESSE

“I hate all of you.” I let out with a nervous sigh as I stood behind Noah, Michael, and Jesse in line.

“Oh stop being such a wuss. We are gonna keep conversation with the brunette girl because she clearly can’t keep her eyes off of Noah, and then you can slide on over and try to catch a conversation with your little crush.” Michael replied.

Jolly turned to look back at me, “I do see what you mean though Jesse, she is pretty cute.”

If you think she’s cute from this far back just wait until you're up close to her. She’s breathtaking. I thought.

“Oh shit dude, they’re walking over this way. Jesse get your ass up here.” Noah then turned to place his giant ass hand on my shoulder and pushed me up to the front between him and Jolly.

There she was, standing right before me once again. Her hair tied up in a messy bun while the loose strands hugged around her face. Her dark green sweater hugged her slender frame and her cheeks were flushed pink, highlighting the beautiful paleness of her skin.

“Alrighty, what can we get started for you guys?” Kate asked while Y/N stood still at her side.

“Do you guys know what you want?” Noah turned around to ask us all.

“Uhhh, let me just get a white mocha please.” Jolly responded.

“Okay, one white mocha. Anything else?”

“Oh it’s all gonna be together, todays a special occasion.” Noah answered back while bumping his shoulder into mine.

Just end me now please.

Y/N glanced up and I immediately made eye contact with her. I gave her a small smile to which she had returned.

Michael leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Now’s your chance man get your ass over there and go ask her for her number.”

Ignoring his comment and letting out a deep breath I inched a little bit closer to the side of the counter where Y/N stood.

“Can I have an iced sugar free vanilla latte with oat milk please.” Noah asked and then shifted over to let Michael come up between us to order next.

“Okay an iced sugar free vanilla latte for you and did you want anything else?” Kate asked with a shaky tone to her voice.

“Nah, he's gotta drink just his fancy little sugar free beverage because he’s gotta go get swole after this.” Michael blurted out with a chuckle.

“Man shut up.” Noah replied back with a long sigh.

“You do order like a girl”, Jolly chimed in with a playful smack to Noah’s arm.

“I’m sick of your guys shit. When we get back home I’m turning the AC down to 62.”

Kate and Y/N both let out a laugh at Noah’s comment. That was the first time I heard her laugh. It was just as beautiful as she was. Everything about this girl set my soul on fire. Every time I was near her my fingertips tingled with nerves and it was so hard to think straight.

I knew soon I was going to have to step out of my comfort zone before one of these idiots made a scene and embarrassed me even further. So, I took in a deep breath and came up close to the counter where Y/N was standing to be directly right in front of her.

Her eyes last night were tired and glossy but today, they shined brightly with the sunlight that shone in from the windows. I could probably stand here forever just getting lost in them.

“Hey you.” Y/N’s voice suddenly broke me from getting lost any further in thought.

“Hey yourself.” I replied back with a grin.

“What can I get started for you?” She asked, her smile now growing a little wider to show her teeth.

“I’m feeling adventurous and kind of want to stray away from my usual hot coffee order. What do you recommend?”

“Hmmm” she replied while tapping her fingers to her chin. “It depends, are you looking for something sweet or are you looking for something to wake you up?”

“How about both?”

“I think I can do that.” Y/N responded while reaching over to grab one of the white cups from out of the holder.

“Just the coffee then?” Kate asked.

Staring intently at the pastry case to the side, I caught sight of a plate that was filled with a stack of orange scones. My stomach suddenly growled and my mouth watered at the sight of the white icing and pieces of orange zest that lined the top of them.

“Can I also get one of those orange scones? I have a sweet spot for anything sweet and fruity.” I turned to look back over at Kate.

“Good choice. My sister actually made those fresh this morning.” She replied back while motioning over to Y/N who was working on making mine and the guys drinks.

Kate walked over to the pastry case and put on a pair of plastic gloves. She opened the door to the back of the case and grabbed the orange scone that rested on the top of the stack and then placed it inside of a brown pastry bag.

“I’d offer to warm it up for you but the icing melts and gets all hard on the top when we do.”

“Oh it’s no worries, I’m sure it will be delicious either way.” I responded back to her.

She handed me the bag that held the orange scone inside. I grabbed it from her and then turned around to face my three friends again. “Are you guys finished ordering?” I asked.

“Yeah I think so.” Jolly answered back.

I set the bag down on the counter and reached into my back pocket to pull my wallet out. But before I could finish pulling my debit card out of its slot Noah came up beside me and handed his debit card over to Kate.

“Hey man, what are you doing?” I asked.

“I told you, it’s a special day. So it’s my treat.”

“Noah, you didn’t have to do that, seriously.”

Retrieving his card from Kate, he then slid it into the holder he had on the back of his phone, and then shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. We put you through enough hell today so it’s the least I can do.” He replied quietly while patting my back.

“Thanks Noah, I appreciate it.” I grabbed the bag off the counter and looked back over to Y/N who had her back turned towards my direction. She was still working on finishing up our drinks. Noah and the rest of the guys turned to go head back over to the table they found earlier.

I knew this was their attempt at leaving me alone so I could talk with Y/N.

“You don’t have to stand and wait. I’ll have Y/N bring your drinks over if you want to go take a seat.” Kate said while motioning over to Noah, Jolly, and Michael.

“Oh, are you sure? I don’t mind waiting.”

“I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind at all.” She replied back with a wink.

READER

I really, really hope he likes this. I thought to myself while placing the lid on top of the drink I made for Jesse.

“What did you decide on?” Kate asked while leaning over my shoulder to look down at the drinks before me.

“You’re favorite, a vanilla matcha latte. I also made one for you, it’s the cup over there by the espresso machine. I didn’t forget about it.” I said while nudging her arm with my elbow.

“Good choice, after he takes one sip of that he’ll probably get down on one knee.” Kate eagerly turned to grab her matcha latte off the counter and brought it up to take a sip. “I told him to go take a seat while they waited for their drinks. I may have also told him that you’d personally bring it out to him.”

I slowly turned my head to her and shot her a look, “You what?”

“I figured you’d want some time to talk to him more one on one without having to worry about other people being around. I can handle the front by myself for now, plus Jasmine is still here so if we get a little pop we will be okay. Now go, before the coffee and your feet both get cold.”

I grabbed the tray that held the four coffees. My hands shook with nerves and I tried to focus my breathing before making my way around the counter. Trying to clear my thoughts so by the time I approached the table where he was sitting with his friends I would appear more confident than what I actually was.

Shifting in my shoes I quickly turned around to smile back at Kate, “Thank you, sis.” I said before finally turning around and walking over towards the corner table of the bookstore where the four guys all sat around exchanging smiles and laughter.

I took in a deep breath as I slowly made my way closer to them. Still trying to focus on my breathing and doing the best to shake out the nerves. I could pick up the smell from the coffees I was holding as I continued walking forward and as I appeared at the table Jesse immediately looked up to greet me with a smile.

“Okay I have all four coffees here and ready” I reached down to pull the first coffee out of the top left corner of the drink holder, picking it up and reading the description label and name Kate had written on the side. “Alright, I’ve got one white mocha for Jolly?.” I asked while holding up the beverage.

The man with long brown hair sitting furthest in the corner facing me lifted up a finger, “Ah yes, that would be mine.”

I reached across the table, Jesse now right at my side. I could feel his warm breath fan across the side of my arm and it gave me goosebumps. Trying not to focus too hard over it I reached out to hand Jolly, who sat directly next to Jesse, his beverage.

“Thank you so much.” He responded.

“You’re very welcome” I replied back with a smile. Now reaching over to grab the next drink, I lifted the clear cold cup out of the holder and turned it to the side to read the name and description. “Alright next up, I’ve got an iced sugar free vanilla latte with oat milk for Noah.” I said while holding out the cup.

The man sitting in the chair across from Jesse lifted his head up to look at me and with a soft smile he reached over to take the cup from me, “Yep, that's me. Thank you!” He kindly replied back.

“You’re also very welcome.” I answered back with a light chuckle. I reached back down to grab the next drink, making sure to save Jesse’s for last. I wrote something special on his cup so I knew which cup was his from before I walked over here.

“Okay next up, I’ve got a strawberry banana smoothie for Michael.” The man who sat next to Noah and across from Jolly raised his hand. “That one is for me” he said while dragging out the e playfully.

“You came to a bookstore coffee shop and ordered a smoothie?” Noah asked him with a sigh.

“Oh sorry, we can’t all be sugar free, oat milk, fancy getting swole, coffee drinkers like you Noah.” He responded back while taking the drink from me. Michael then looked back up from Noah, who was rolling his eyes, to thank me for handing him his beverage.

“Alright, last but certainly not least, I have a vanilla matcha latte for Jesse.” I said while pulling the last cup out of the holder and handing it to the man who was sitting directly next to me. He reached out to take it from me and his fingers brushed against mine. His hands were warm and a little rough. But I still shivered from his touch.

“Wow that’s fancy, probably the fanciest coffee I’ll ever drink in my life.” Jesse replied back with a laugh. “Thank you very much, Y/N. For not only making all of our drinks but for also bringing them over here to us. I told your sister I think it was? That I didn’t mind waiting for them but she insisted that you wouldn’t mind bringing them out.” His gaze continued to linger on me.

I could feel all four of them staring at me now and I knew my cheeks were probably putting my nervousness right on display. I placed my hand on the back of my neck and with a hard swallow I replied back, “Yeah it's no problem at all, my sister Kate likes everyone to be able to relax and grab a book while they wait. That’s her inner manager coming out.”

“Oh shit, she’s your sister and your manager? Do you guys ever duke it out back there?” Jolly asked while taking a sip of his coffee.

“Surprisingly no, me and Kate actually get along really well together, for the most part. When she isn’t keeping our apartment in the temperatures of Alaska.” I responded back with a chuckle.

“Well, your sister and Noah have something in common.” Jesse said while motioning towards Noah.

“Do you guys all live together?” I asked.

“Unfortunately.” Noah responded in a joking tone.

“He doesn’t mean that. I know your ass misses me when I’m gone.” Jesse replied while giving Noah a light kick under the table.

I laughed in response to their interaction. I could tell just from the few moments standing here conversing with them that they were all very close. It reminded me a lot of mine and Kate’s relationship and it made me feel safe to be around in their presence. Something that was very rare, especially around a group of guys in LA.

“Did you want to sit down? If you’re not busy that is.” Jesse asked while tapping at the chair next to him.

Suddenly all of my focus was on Jesse and I turned back over to make direct eye contact with him. His eyes were a beautiful golden brown. They were sweet and shined like honey from the sunlight that laid across his face which casted in from the windows.

His voice was soft and kind and his lips were a warm shade of pink from which his teeth peaked out from behind. I traced his face down to his neck that met at his off white tee shirt, then down his tattoo covered arm, and finally over to his hand which was covered with a red mandala tattoo that was tapping against the seat.

I would have rather taken a seat right on his lap but for now, the chair will have to do.

He scooched over the orange scone that was sitting on the table on top of one of the brown bags from the cafe. There were two bites taken out of it and crumbs lined the top of the bag. I made my way over to the chair next to him and sat down right beside him.

I glanced back up to meet his face, and my eyes lingered on his lips. They looked soft and warm and I found myself thinking about what they would taste like. Possibly from the vanilla matcha latte that lingered on his breath, or the hints of orange scone he had eaten from earlier.

Jesse shifted a bit closer to me and now our thighs were touching. I could feel my heart beat pick up and I opened my mouth slightly to breathe in some air to prevent myself from getting light headed. My leg brushed up against his and I could feel him lean into the touch.

He sat up and leaned in closer to me putting his elbow on the table, “By the way your sister told me you had baked the orange scones and I must say they’re quite delicious. I have a sweet spot for all things fruit flavored but especially anything citrusy.” His warm breath fanned across my face.

I was so dazed by this man that I forgot there were three other people sitting at the same table with us. If they weren’t sitting here I probably would have leaned in to taste his lips by now.

I leaned in closer to him, our lips just a few inches apart now. “Well now that I know you enjoy them so much I’ll be sure to always keep a few extra in the back just for you.”

“Is that an attempt to keep me coming back?” He asked with a raised brow.

“If it was, would you say it was working?” I asked him back.

“If I’m being honest, the orange scones wouldn’t be the reason to keep me coming back. Although they are quite tasty, It would be the girl who made them that would keep bringing me back.”

Holy hell. Holy shit. Holy fuck.

I laid my arm down on the table and brought my hand closer to his elbow. I let my finger rest up against the side of his arm and Jesse brought his arm down to place his hand on top of mine.

“If it’s alright with you and if I’m not coming off too strong, I am experiencing a wave of confidence I normally don’t carry. So I would really like to take advantage of it and ask you for your number.”

A wide smile spread across my face and I looked down at the table to hide my bright red cheeks. I felt like a little girl in a candy store with the way this man flooded my heart and my stomach with butterflies.

He took his finger and gently placed it under my chin to lift my face back up to him. Our eyes greeted and it took everything in me to hold restraint and not kiss him. I knew Kate was probably watching and if she caught me sucking face with this guy at work and in my work uniform I would never hear the end of it.

I reached over to his now empty cup and picked it up, “I had already written a little message on here for you earlier but since you asked so nicely..” I took out one of the sharpies from my apron, using my teeth to take the lid off, and began writing my phone number onto the cup.

I placed the cup back in front of him, “I went ahead and added my number here on the bottom.” I spun the cup around where the message I had written earlier and my phone number was now facing Jesse.

With a giant smile spreading across his face he picked it up and I could see his cheeks begin to lightly flush pink. “I’m a very happy boy right now.” He responded while setting the cup back down on the table before us.

#jesse cash #ghost atlas #jesse cash fic #jesse cash x reader #jesse cash fanfiction #jesse thomas cash #tomato red

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